#and if youre wondering if he has a lot of followers the answer is absolutely not

[ofthecaravel]

Hey so like what if one of the boys turned into a ghost or something

what if 3 of them turned into a ghost or something

[fastandcarlos]

Soft Launch : ̗̀➛ Charles LeClerc

summary: follow along to see the journey of charles’ soft launch to reveal your relationship…

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

liked by carlossainz55, landonorris and 2,493,172 others

charles_leclerc: another week and another race, looking forward to heading to montreal with the team for another race ✈️

139,058 comments

username1: did you think you could just post those legs and we wouldn’t say anything??

arthur_leclerc: it’s taken you long enough to start dropping some clues 😂

oscarpiastri: @/arthur_leclerc this feels like something a member of the family would know about??

username2: is this a stupid way of telling us you’re in a relationship 🤔

landonorris: I’m not gonna leave you alone until you tell me all about this at the race just so you know

username3: no idea who the person is but I’m already insanely jealous that they got to rest their legs in your lap…

alex_albon: let’s all now guess what charles’ media questions are gonna be about this weekend 🤔

carlossainz55: and here I was thinking that I was the only love in your life 💔

charles_leclerc: @/carlossainz55 please don’t get jealous sweetie 💕

username4: please don’t go all soft launch on us leclerc 😭

username5: wishing it was me getting to fly around the world with you instead!

pierregasly: wait you’ve not just kept this a secret from the world but a secret from me too 😱

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

liked by lewishamilton, georgerussell63 and 2,038,604 others

charles_leclerc: I think these photos are what the cool kids call living my best life ☺️

127,431 comments

username6: I wonder if there’s a certain someone that’s suddenly made him live his best life!?

landonorris: you would never know you’ve never been cool in your life 😉

username7: you need to explain yourself mr leclerc!!!

olliebearman: we get it, you’ve got a girlfriend now, quit bragging 😂

username8: there are so many questions in my mind right now that need answering 😂

carlossainz55: 😊😊😊😊

username9: we should put a ban on soft launches they’re the cruelest things

maxverstappen1: that second photo you were secretly smiling at me across the media pen I’m sure!

charles_leclerc: @/maxverstappen1 whatever helps you sleep at night my friend

username10: you just know he’s absolutely loving the fact he knows he’s winding us all up rn too ☺️

oscarpiastri: as a cool kid, I can assure you that the cool kids have moved on from this phrase now 😝

username11: at least charles has finally realised that he’s not cool anymore 😂 danielricciardo: can’t believe you’ve finally decided to make our

relationship public!!

charles_leclerc: @/danielricciardo I just couldn’t hide my love for you any longer 😂

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

liked by oscarpiastri, arthur_leclerc and 2,473,081 others

charles_leclerc: somewhere new with someone new. life doesn’t get any better than this 🌴🌊

129,573 comments

username12: even from behind they look like such a good match 🥺

carlossainz55: I remember before you got a girlfriend and you used to go on holiday with me 😔

charles_leclerc: @/carlossainz55 forgetting like we’re not going away at the end of the season??

username13: how much longer does he plan on keeping these games up for!?

georgerussell63: I feel like a fan hanging on to find out more about your girlfriend too 😂

iamrebeccad: I want to meet her and tell her lots of embarrassing stories about you!!

username14: I want to hate him for doing this to us but it’s impossible…

pierregasly: I’d argue that life would be better if I was there with you guys too ☺️

username15: notice how there’s three beers, I wonder who else is with them??

lewishamilton: I refuse to believe you rode that bike in those jeans 😂

charles_leclerc: @/lewishamilton fashion first and comfort second 💯

username16: can we all agree if he doesn’t reveal soon we’ll all just unfollow and leave him to post to no one??

arthur_leclerc: not you leaving the family waiting like the fans to actually meet her properly 🙄

username17: have I ever told you charles how damn impatient I am??

alex_albon: nothing like impressing a new girlfriend with a holiday 😂

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

liked by landonorris, danielricciardo and 2,493,072 others

charles_leclerc: introducing my beautiful girl to the beautiful sunsets that monaco has to offer 🌅

218,407 comments

username18: ofc charles would make it too dark so we can’t actually see her 😔

danielricciardo: this might be the most aesthetic group of photos I’ve ever seen from you!

charles_leclerc: @/danielricciardo I’ve been getting lessons from the best 🥺

username19: the way they look at each other I don’t need to see anymore to know they’re happy together!

maxverstappen1: you’ve got a girlfriend??? you should’ve mentioned it!

charles_leclerc: @/maxverstappen1 one day I’m gonna block you!

username20: I’m already in love I don’t need to be tormented anymore 😂

oscarpiastri: you gotta gimme some tips charles so I can up my game if these are the sorts of dates you’re organising

username21: im more jealous that she got to go on a boat date with him than anything else!!

lewishamilton: you guys are such a good couple, annoyingly adorable all weekend at the race

carlossainz55: told you a sunset was a good date idea 😉

username22: I hate how most of the drivers know about her now…they’re probably enjoying teasing us too 😭

landonorris: welcome back romantic charles leclerc, we missed you 💞

username23: what spy tricks is he using to be able to take her to races and have absolutely no one realise!?!?

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

liked by maxverstappen1, pierregasly and 2,429,013 others

charles_leclerc: no one else I would rather adventure around the world with than you 🌎✨

189,472 comments

username24: ah we finally got a proper reveal, she’s stunning charles!!

landonorris: nothing like flexing just how strong you are for the gram 💪🏻

charles_leclerc: @/landonorris no problem for these guns 🔥

username25: look at how perfect they are together ✨

carlossainz55: feel like you’ve grown up right before my very eyes 🤧

maxverstappen1: I remember when you used to moan to me about how badly you wanted a girlfriend 😂

username26: the day we’ve waited for so long has arrived, goodbye soft launch era 👋🏻

georgerussell63: I along with all your fans thank you for finally giving us what we want 😂

alex_albon: you’ve become as soft as your launches with these captions of yours

username27: I’m officially obsessed with the two of them together omg

arthur_leclerc: stop gatekeeping your girlfriend and bring her home to all of us too!!

username28: I knew she was gonna be beautiful but this is something else 🥺

oscarpiastri: idk about that, I can take you on some pretty cool adventures too charles 😉

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

liked by carlossainz55, scuderiaferrari and 2,894,162 others

charles_leclerc: feeling beyond lucky to finally bring my girl to her very first podium and deliver a trophy back home with us too 🏆🏎️

249,482 comments

username29: we’re all so happy for you charles, congrats on the win!!

scuderiaferrari: congratulations charles, the whole team is so proud of you ❤️

username30: we finally get to see her in the paddock too this is so exciting 🥳

iamrebeccad: it was so lovely to finally meet her this weekend charles, you’ve got yourself a good one there!

charles_leclerc: @/iamrebeccad I don’t plan on letting her go anytime soon either 🥺

username31: okay can we officially agree that she’s a good luck charm and needs to be there forever!?

carlossainz55: can you leave your celebrations with her for when I’m out of my driver’s room please 🔇

charles_leclerc: @/carlossainz55 stfu we weren’t even doing anything 🙄

username32: that third photo was from when charles found her in the crowd…look at his little smile!

landonorris: thought we’d be nice and give you the win seeing as your girlfriend was there 😝

username33: that was an incredible drive charles, right back in contention for the championship 🎉

maxverstappen1: forgetting the part where ferrari steal your trophy and take it back to base with them 😂

pierregasly: no pressure now but she’s got high standards of you on race weekends!

username34: the way he ran over to her when he got outta the car, I can’t 😭

danielricciardo: huge drive my friend, I would say enjoy the celebrations but it sounds like you already are 🤫

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

liked by arthur_leclerc, oscarpiastri and 2,583,203 others

charles_leclerc: introducing my angel to the family, safe to say she’s definitely got the seal of approval ✅

238,492 comments

username35: ahhh I can’t believe she met the fam, this must be serious!!

arthur_leclerc: we absolutely loved meeting her, you guys are the cutest 🥺

username36: they’re still all smiling so they must’ve loved her ☺️

carlossainz55: you’re family are adorable so ofc she fits right in 😂

username37: how could they not fall in love with her, she’s adorable!?

oscarpiastri: I don’t think she’s quite met all the family yet…has she??

charles_leclerc: @/oscarpiastri you’re not letting this go are you??

username38: finally arthur got exactly what he’s wanted for so long 🥺

username39: I’m so happy that this all went well, I’ve got a good feeling about these two…

landonorris: don’t remember you posting when she got our seal of approval 🤔

charles_leclerc: @/landonorris don’t remember you ever being as important as my family 😂

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

liked by landonorris, pierregasly and 3,092,174 others

charles_leclerc: seeing as you guys have been thirsting over my girl for so long, I’ll finally give you what you want. a whole post dedicated to my love, isn’t she just perfect!? 💞✨

318,575 comments

username40: she really is perfect, you’ve got yourself a good egg charles!!

danielricciardo: I feel like a proud father seeing these photos 😭

username41: how dare he suggest we’ve been thirsting over her 😂

maxverstappen1: I don’t think it’s just the fans who have been thirsting (@/georgerussell63)

georgerussell63: @/maxverstappen1 no idea what you’re talking about 🤭

username42: charles always knows how to deliver exactly what we want!

pierregasly: thank goodness we don’t have to listen to you moan about being single anymore!!

username43: I don’t think charles could’ve found a more perfect girl if he tried…

carlossainz55: as much as it pains me to say it…you guys are pretty cute ❤️

username44: forever obsessed with these two and forever praying for more content from them too 🙏🏻

iamrebeccad: 10/10 agree that she is in fact perfect!

landonorris: you’d look cuter with me by your side, but I guess she’ll do 😂

username45: we hate you for soft launching but we love you for the fact that you’re just so happy 💕

ynusername: 🥺🥺🥺

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

˗ˏˋ 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 ! ´ˎ˗

[plasticferal]

can u plsss write a Matt smut where the reader is like obsessed with his teeth and then she kind of jokes ab licking his teeth but shes not actually joking and then u know the rest

take it or leave it | matt sturniolo.

authors note: this was so fun to write. here’s some kind of soft, lust filled bff!matt turned lovers.

warnings: fem reader, not obscene or 18+ but read at your own discretion. a lot of dialogue, light biting, mark leaving, explicit language.

you just can't stop staring at your best friend. all he's doing is chewing on a paper straw, swirling it around his soft drink. his eyes are glued to his screen, scrolling through his phone, both of his elbows planted on the dining table.

"i can feel you staring," matt talks with the straw still in his mouth, flashing his perfect teeth with a conceited smirk. you scoff, digging your fork back into the dessert that sits in front of you, to avoid the interrogation you feel coming your way.

"i didn't say stop," you feel his eyes burn holes into you, tone earnest and deep, just waiting for you to glance up at him again.

"wasn't even staring," you speak through a muffled mouthful of cake, not caring if he sees the food in your mouth. he's the closest person in your life, he's probably seen worse.

"real sexy, kid" he teases, staring at your mouth and chuckling as you cover it to swallow your food, flipping him off from across the table.

"no for real, what were you looking at? like be specific," he asks, placing his phone screen down on the table, shuffling in his chair and adjusting his posture. you raise an eyebrow at him, wondering what the hell he's on about.

"i can't just admire my best friend?" you sarcastically smile and bat your eyelashes at him, resting your chin into the palm of your hands.

"specifics, go." matt isn't having it, and you drop the act fast.

you ponder on your answer for a moment, or at least pretend to. you know exactly what you want to say but you don't need him getting a big head. well, bigger. he's a walking, talking, humble brag. especially around you.

"ah, okaaaay," you pout your lips with contemplation.

"your eyes i guess. they're pretty. you know that, though" you shrug, prodding at your dessert again, not having any intention on finishing it at this point. matt has you cornered with his new train of thought.

"boring, next." he deadpans, throwing his head back with an eye roll before looking at you again. he folds his arms over his chest, leaning back leisurely.

"fine. ah, your teeth. i'm like obsessed with them. is that a better answer?" you quip, grabbing your plate and pushing away from the table to make your way to the sink.

you hear matt behind you let out an audible "huh?" and can picture the confusion on his face. you don't know what it is about his teeth, or his smile in general. you just get stunned at how perfect they are, the way they just suit his face so much.

they just look like they could form the perfect bite in your skin. he's always chewing a new flavoured gum, flashing them subtly past his perfectly pink lips, and his breath always smells nice. it's weirdly inviting. all thoughts you absolutely shouldn't be having about matthew.

"hang on, rewind. my teeth?" there's an amused underlining to his response, and you just wish you could take back what you said, joke or not.

you rinse the plate off and immediately ignore him, drying your hands with paper towel before bee-lining for the bin in the small dark corner of the room.

"you got your answer, matthew. get over it," you exhale, tossing it into the black rubbish bag.

"no no, i'm not done with you yet," you hear his chair make a disturbing scratchy squeak against the vinyl floors with how fast he pushes his chair back, following where your body is moving.

you walk around the dining table in the opposite direction of him, but he changes directions to match yours. you collapse onto the couch, sitting cross legged and he falls into the spot right next to you, despite having the entire couch. your shoulders are touching and his knee his touching yours.

"you were staring at my teeth and now i need to know why," matt requests, leaning one elbow up on the back of the couch, facing you completely.

"i can't answer tha-"

"y/n" he cuts you off seriously.

"i don't know, okay? drop it, matthew." you push back with frustration, not understanding why he can't. it's either he's pushing your buttons on purpose or he can sense the subject easily taking a turn in a different direction.

"i'm not trying to piss you off. i just wanted know. sorry" his voice softens, and he shifts so he's facing the t.v.

you almost feel bad snapping at him, considering you instigated his reaction in the first place by not justifying it straight away.

you bite your nails, trying to avoid talking. it's so hard with matt. he just always brings it out of you. looking at him while he watches the screen ahead of you just makes you yearn to hear his voice again. he's so quiet for the most part that when you get him out of his shell you don't ever want him to stop.

"i've always liked your teeth. i don't know what it is. i wish i could explain it but i can't," you speak shyly, a very rare feeling around him.

you have literally shared every waking thought with this man. it just feels so different when it involves him personally. on a physical descriptive level. matt leans his head back on the massive couch cushion, giving you a lazy half grin, looking up at you through hooded eyes.

"do you just like staring at them or do you wanna like, touch them?" he flashes his teeth like a vampire, and you push his face away with a laugh, knowing he's teasing with good intention. he chuckles, pushing your own hand back into your body.

"you're never gonna let me live this down, are you?"

"not until i can wrap my head around it, no" he folds his arms over his chest, tucking his hands into his armpits and they disappear under his oversized hoodie, snickering at his own defence.

he looks you in the eyes, the same fiery stare he gives you when he's about to say something out of pocket, you can read him like a book.

"you wanna touch 'em?"

"matt," you scold, knowing whatever he has planned is just to keep this joke lingering. or what you think is a joke to him.

"i'm serious, let's see if we can get to the bottom of this little fetish of yours" he's so pleased with his words, grinning like an idiot as he nestles his face closer to yours.

"i'd get more pleasure out of it with my tongue," you chortle, then pause suddenly, not believing what you just said out loud.

you force your face to plaster a look on it that says 'i'm joking' but there's no part of what you just said that matt is taking comically.

"go on." matt replies.

"what's gotten into you, tonight?" you have a half simper half befuddled look as you lean back to make sure you're seeing him right.

making sure you're speaking to matt, not someone posing as him with how bold and absurd he's been acting for the past few minutes. he's always being flirtatious, in a bantering and unalloyed manner. this felt different, he's being a lot more direct. a lot less blithe.

"i am literally giving you one chance to do this and then i'm never bringing it up again. take it or leave it, y/n"

"open your mouth, then.” you say in a ‘i bet you won’t’ tone, not believing he actually will. you’re taken aback when he tilts his head up lightly, an innocent look on his face when he parts his mouth, creating a perfect oval.

“you’re seriously okay with this?” you ask, beginning to lean forward, tempting and just waiting for the moment he pulls away, or snaps his mouth closed. he nods, mouth still open.

you know him well enough by now to understand that when matt says he’ll never mention it again, he means it. he’s petty like that.

“fuck it, m’god” you mumble, cupping the side of his jaw, fingertips resting under his ear and being tickled by his hair, pulling him to you.

your breaths intertwine as you hover over his mouth, your lips don’t touch when you poke your tongue out and let it slide behind his top teeth and trail across the sharp edge, slowly, left to right. when you pull away, you observe him.

matt closes his mouth, sucking his teeth and plastering a thoughtful look on his face. you wait for his response.

“well?” you can only wait for so long before you’re trying to entice him to say something, anything.

he adjusts himself on the lounge, full body facing you at this point, if he was pushed up any closer he’d be on top of you.

“just like, out of curiosity. can you do it again?” he asks bashfully. he did say take it or leave it. so you take it, while he’s dangling it in front of you.

this time, you curve your hand gently around the back of his neck to guide his face. tilting your head slightly before pulling him in. you lick the back of the teeth again, even slower than the first time. you can feel matt holding his breath, and the taste of the root beer he just had still lingering.

matt takes a deep breath when you part from him again, flaring his nostrils slightly and sucking on the inside of his cheek. he looks confused, in a content way. but confused nonetheless.

you stare at him, memorising this look on his face. without breaking his stare with you, matt reaches for a pillow and throws it over his lower body, holding it in place. before he has a chance to set it onto his lap, you glance down to see the bulge forming under his black shorts.

“did you like my tongue in your mouth, matthew?” your words are jovial, but he turns away from you after you question him, looking quite literally anywhere else.

“no-i,i mean. fuck, i don't know. no." he rambles, response being faster than his brain can even register, not pulling out the best choice of words from his vocabulary.

“no? is that why you let me do it twice?” you tease, turning the table on him.

"you're right," he pauses.

"maybe we should make it three. for good luck." he looks back at you with a red hue on his cheeks, simpering smile pulling at the corner of his mouth as he hugs the pillow on his lap.

"only if you ask nicely," you squint your eyes, and he rolls his.

"i'm not beggin' for it. no way." he shakes his head, boston accent coming through a lot thicker when he's defensive. it happens a lot, and that's how you know you have him cornered.

"your call, matty. take it or leave it." the front you're putting on for him is a fraud, having a gut feeling that it's the only cue he needs to surrender. he's silent for a solid minute.

"fuck, jesus, okay." he finishes, grabbing your face this time. he caresses your jaw, and his touch is so firm and so warm.

the pillow between your bodies is like a barrier, but he pushes up against it hard to bring you as close to his face as you can. you brace yourself for him to open his mouth again, but instead, your lips collide.

your eyes close instinctively and his soft, wet lips move with yours, taking your bottom lip between the kiss, and letting his tongue slide in and dance across your own. slowly he pulls away, fluttering inches over your mouth instead of distancing himself.

"i don't know, i don't know why i just-" matt is still touching your face through his panic-stricken words.

you don't even counter his sentence before grabbing the collar of his hoodie and pulling him back to your mouth. you shove the pillow off the lounge in-between your bodies with your knee while shifting your body weight onto his lap, an easy transition considering how close you've been the whole time.

matt grabs your waist immediately, securing you on top of him and deepening the kiss. you feel your throat shake with his small, desirous moan into your mouth. you sink all of your body weight onto him and can feel his dick underneath you growing harder, heat radiating from between his legs.

the kiss becomes heavier, more desperate and messy, missing each others mouths and clashing your teeth, taking breaths for a split second before attacking each other's lips again. your nails dig into his shoulders and matt's hands lower, stationing on your upper thigh.

you're in such a state of disbelief but ignore every doubt or worry you're forcing yourself to have. you've mentally convinced yourself this is a dream. you're not actually grinding into your bestfriend's groin, making out with him and having his thumbs get closer and closer to your heat, feeling wet already at the friction.

matt kisses the corner of your mouth, your cheek bone, the tip of your nose, then your jaw. he trails the kisses on your jaw lower and lower, grazing his teeth along your delicate skin until he reaches he crease of your neck just under your ear, and you lean into him as much as you possibly can.

"you like my teeth so much, wait until you see what they can do to your neck," he forces deeply against your skin, biting at your earlobe.

"god, matt," you exhale.

you feel a sharp, stinging suck to your neck, making you gasp. he pulls your skin into his mouth, tongue rubbing the area that he's suffocating in his bite. he pulls away, making a sharp sound when he lets go. he repeats the same thing just underneath his first bite, and your body is twisting and distorting in his arms. you tug at his hair with a warning.

"you’re gonna have to explain those marks." you tremble, yet not stopping him. he taunts a stifled laugh.

"don't care," he starts, pulling your shirt off your shoulder and sucking another deep purple mark on your collar bone.

"i'll spell my name out on your skin if i have to." it’s like he’s a trance, trailing his middle finger along the bites he just left before looking up at you with a dazed smile.

his chest is rising and falling prominently, both of you catching your breath after the intense session. matt gently presses his lips to yours again, and you lean your forehead against his. he grips at the bottom hem of your shirt, toying with the fabric.

"if i knew my teeth would get you on top of me, i would have let you lick em' sooner," he has a crooked, dopey grin on his face. you blush, flustered at his words.

"is this is insane? you don't think you're gonna regret it?" you're cautious with your words, voice gentle, head still leaning against his and your fingers playing with the hair creeping on the nape of his neck.

"i could never regret you." he shakes his head softly, making you smile and peck another gentle kiss on his lips. you know he means his words, and they make you want to melt into a puddle.

"smile for me quickly," you banter, holding onto his shoulders but pulling back to look at his face properly.

he covers his face with his big hands and you let out a hearty laugh, attempting to pry them off and begging him to stop hiding.

"matt! you'll let me shove my tongue down your throat but can't smile for me?" your stomach hurts with the laughter caused by the sheer fight he's putting up covering his face.

when you finally get him to drop his hands he has the biggest, cheesiest grin on his face. smiling ear to ear, and eyes closed shut, putting on a show for you. he drops his face quickly once you've had your time to look, and has those signature tired and heavy eyes make an appearance once again.

you lean in, slowly, so slow. your face is drawing him in like a magnet, him following your moves to meet in the middle. he flashes his teeth once again, and you run the tip of your tongue across his bottom lip, feeling his teeth too, budging his mouth open.

"now you're just taking advantage of it," his raspy voice speaks, pulling you back to his mouth by your neck and leading with his tongue, letting it slide in and moaning into your parted lips. they finally sink into each others after teasing each other, seeing who falls into the kiss first.

your tongues fight for dominance and matt grabs the back of your neck hard, forcing you to stay where you are. you're tilting left and he's tilting right as you focus on breathing through your nose to stay attached to each other as long as you can.

you can literally feel matt take his time to explore your mouth, circling every inch he possibly can. he takes your bottom lip between his teeth and bites hard, making you gasp before pulling back and letting go, both of your mouths wet and glistening with each others saliva.

matt wipes your mouth with his thumb, applying enough pressure but still being gentle. he's staring at your skin before his eyes fixate on those marks he left earlier.

"oh fuck, they're pretty bad" he giggles, and you roll off his lap with a groan, slapping your hand over your neck as if to hide them from him. your legs drape over his thighs and you can feel him looking at you.

you hide from him by sinking into the lounge for no good reason other than you think somehow it'll make the marks disappear, or manifest that it does.

"i didn't even bring makeup to cover it," you fake cry, seeing how bad it could make him feel, but he doesn't budge. matt slaps your thigh as if to say 'i'm not buying it' then rubs your legs soothingly.

"you're not covering them up. i won't let you leave the house if you do, no other option." matt is demanding but lighthearted in his words.

"oh no, i can't leave, what a shame," you dramatically flail your hand to your temple like an old school movie scene, and matt pokes your rib to get you to snap out of it.

"if you ever want to see my teeth again i'd watch the dramatics, honey" and those words coming from him alone make you cut the act, flushing red and sitting up properly.

you don't know how he's managed to whip you into line, usually being the other way around, but you're not risking it.

you've somehow taken more than you could ever ask for from him, and you're still anxious that you've bitten off more than you can chew. no pun intended.

regardless, you're in ignorant bliss. you'll take everything you can get from matt, and more, if he's willing to give it to you. which at this point, you're sure he is.

[gay-dorito-dust]

Dick loves your plushie collection.

He doesn’t find it embarrassing in the slightest! If anything he finds it more offensive that you’d think it embarrassing having plushies as an adult. After he himself has a plush bunny dressed in his nightwing attire -escrima sticks and all- that he won at an arcade game a while back perched on the top of his bed back home.

He calls it dick jr and cuddles it when he has a rough night of crime fighting.

So he’s the last person to ever cast judgment on your plush collection.

If anything he lets his imagination run wild with them and takes full advantage of them. So if the instance came where you weren’t home, Dick would always send you photos and mini videos of him taking excellent care of a plush hare called Sir John Roderick Wellington the third by tucking him in bed at night, pretending to brush his teeth, etc

Or he’d make enact a photo shoot with a couple of them and send the results to you as your left asking where’d he manage to get all sorts of accessories for them…you’re still awaiting the answer to this day. Another thing he’d do with them is take them with him as company while he’s doing mundane chores in the apartment and act as though the plush is helping him.

You were quick to catch on that Dick having a hell of blast with it with how often he spammed your phone with a plethora of photos and videos that kept you up to date with the daily misadventures of your plushy. And yet you weren’t any better either as you kept them all in a album in your phone and are still wondering why your phone keeps informing you that you are running low on space…

Your favourite picture of your plushy was one where Dick had it tucked in bed, a picture of you on its lap, meanwhile Dick’s face could be seen peaking up from the bottom corner of the screen followed by the caption; ‘he misses you and can’t wait for you to come home and cuddle him. Oh and also me. :(

It’s became your Home Screen now and it was the best decision you’ve been made because it never failed to make you smile even on a bad day.

Jason loves it when you wear his clothes.

It’s free therapy for the man seeing you in his clothes and you can quote me on that.

He fucking loved coming home to see you do your own thing while looking all comfortable and relaxed in his shirts or hoodies doing so. For all Jason could ever want for you was for you to feel comfortable with him however you saw fit.

Also it gives him the more reason to stare at you shamelessly, well more than he did already, but you get the point. Jason is a simple man who’s not above letting it known how much he absolutely adores you.

So you wearing his clothes only added onto that adoration that he had for you. No one else could be more perfect in his eyes then you and he stands by that that statement.

‘You look perfect.’ -Jason

‘Jason, I’m wearing sweats and one of your shirts while eating pizza.’ -you

‘Yeah, perfect.’ -Jason

‘Doofus.’ -you, smiling.

Some days Jason would even go out of his way to leave his clothes on your side of the bed as a hint that he wants you to wear it for the day. Other days however he would be outright and blunt with the fact that he’d rather have you in his clothes than your own at this point.

‘Why are you wearing your clothes?’ - Jason

‘Because they’re my clothes and I feel bad wearing all of yours all the time.’ -you

‘Well I on the other hand don’t, take this shirt and go back into our bedroom and change.’ - Jason says as he takes off the shirt he was wearing and hands it to you, uncaring of the fact that he was shirtless in the living room.

‘You’re being dramatic Jason.’ - you as you take the warm shirt from his hands.

‘No I’m not, I just like you in my clothes a lot better than anything else.’ - Jason said, crossing his arms over his chest.

‘You’re getting jealous over clothes now?’ - you asked, raising a brow.

‘Yes.’ Jason responds instantly. ‘Now for the sake of my sanity go back and put my shirt on please.’

You kiss his cheek before leaving for the bedroom to change. ‘If you insist.’

‘I heavily insist chipmunk.’ - Jason says as he watched you walk away before following after to grab another shirt.

Jason loves it when you’re in his clothes. It’s his greatest strength and his greatest weakness.

[leviraaaaaa]

“Daaa-ddy.”

Levi startles, looking up. The little girl stood before him, all wide eyes and beaming at him.

“Yes? Shouldn’t you be at school?”

She shrugs, then thrusts out a hair brush and a set of scrunchies. “Do my hair today!” She grins.

Levi is taken aback slightly, not at all expecting such a request. It’s not that he had a bad relationship with his daughter really, if anything Levi spends every second that he can spare with her. But even so, it was so sudden and specific, not to mention she has never asked him to do it before. It was you who helped her get ready.

“Doesn’t mommy usually do that?” He asks slowly. “Is she busy?”

She shakes her head quickly. “I just want you to do it today.” She smiles, holding the brush out to him, waiting for him to take it.

Levi glances at it then looks back up. How could he say no to that?

So, without a word, he motions her to turn around which she follows happily, pulling a stool nearby to sit between Levi’s legs. Levi takes the brush, though slightly hard to hold without his missing fingers, he manages, combing through the black silky strands.

Like his.

Though, his own hair was stranded with gray now, a sign of the long years he had lived. Even Ackermans don’t stay young forever.

But it’s still so strange to him, having her here, right in front of him. He still freezes a little when she smiles at him, watching her with awe. She looked almost exactly identical to him, starting from the shape of her face to the color of her eyes, just the exact shade of the silvery blue that his own eyes hold. But there was a brightness in those eyes that Levi doesn't think he ever had. She was like this little ball of sunshine, always so bright.

And her smile, that came from you.

She was his. Yours. Theirs.

A part of him and a part of you. A whole other human being. A child. A blessing.

It was the hardest at thr beginning. For him to get used to it. Despite the 9 months of pregnancy, it was when he first held her that the realization finally hit him. That she was his daughter. His.

And the moment his eyes locked with the newborn, he knew he was doomed.

That there was nothing he wouldn’t do for this small, small, absolutely tiny person that came to earth no more than half an hour ago. That he had just met.

It was crazy how it only took him only a moment for him to swear his life for her, to become so protective. It was actually ridiculous, how he felt anxious even when it was the nurses holding her, he’d been so rigid, so poised. Even when handing her over to someone else’s arms, he had his hand outstretched because just in case. It took a shit load of convincing from you for him to let Jean and Connie hold her.

It was crazier watching her grow up. Never had he felt this ridiculous amount of pure joy and excitement ever. Only to hear her first words, to watch her take her first steps, holding his hand. He swears it was only yesterday.

His chain of thought was cut off as she started to happily chatter about things. Unlike Levi, she talks. A lot. Levi doesn’t mind, he listens quietly. Every once in a while, inserting a comment.

“I’ve read about you. In the history books. Our teacher taught us.”

“Yeah?” He mumbles, brushing softly. “What’d you learn?”

“They called you humanity’s strongest.” She stumbles on the word a little, which was a bit heavy for her usual vocabulary. She turns around to look at him with awe and wonder, wide eyes asking for confirmation. “That’s so cool!”

He only lets out a small hum in response.

"Will I be as strong as you one day?"

"Sure. You already are." He hopes she never needs to be.

“I saw your picture too. And mommy’s. Also, Uncle Connie used to be bald back then.” She finishes with a giggle, the idea of Connie’s lack of hair amusing her. “You were like a superhero, weren’t you daddy?”

“I wouldn’t shoot that far.” He answers with a small smile.

Back then, Levi had never imagined the idea of having a family. There, caged between the walls, surrounded by those tremendous monsters. When there was no guarantee that you’d come back alive once you’re out there. How could he even think of bringing a child to the world, if he couldn’t even do the least that is to promise their safety?

But now, here she runs and plays outside, without a worry in the world, tirelessly. She doesn’t have to starve like Levi had to, she grows up with only all the good the world has to offer. She doesn’t know the worst of how things could be and Levi hopes she never does. She doesn’t yet understand the role Levi and you had played in creating this world, but she does understand the value of it. She asks questions sometimes, about the wheelchair and the eye and the hand. About your scars and why somedays you can't get yourself from bed. He doesn’t answer. He doesn’t know how to answer. And Levi knows, one day, he’ll have to tell her all of it, life back then and the life he had. But for now, he prays, let her grow up with only love and pureness. Let her see the world in her rose colored glasses. Something he never got to do.

She taps Levi’s leg as he bunches the hair to tie a ponytail. “Do braids.” She says.

“Braids? Don’t you always wear a ponytail?” Levi asks.

“Yes, but,” She tries to explain, stumbling for words. “Tash always pulls by it.”

Tash was one of her classmates, Levi knew from her frustrated rants about him. From what he could gather, neither liked each other much. “Next time he bothers you, you do the thing that I taught you.” He tells her.

“The thing with my hands?” She asked brightly, balling her hands to show him.

“Hey, no beating up kids at school. Levi!” You appear in the doorway, only catching the last bit of the conversation. “Don’t give her ideas. And you,” You look at your daughter who was smiling smugly. “I’ve been looking for you–wait, is Levi doing your hair?” You say, finally noticing and very surprised.

‘Yes!” She replies excitedly, “He’s doing braids! He’s very slow though.”

Levi playfully pats her head. “It’s because you keep moving.” He sighs. “Must you need braids? I’m not sure if I can–”

“Yes.”

Levi was about to say something else until she turned around, giving him the most adorable pout ever, eyes all round and needy, her brows pinched together. “Please?” She asks sweetly.

Well damn.

Levi tries, he really tries. But the word no somehow managed to disappear from his vocabulary, along with all of its synonyms. So he sighs, nodding.

“Levi, I can–” You start.

“It’s okay.” He puts up a hand, stopping you. He doesn’t know much about the process, but he’s spent enough time watching you do her hair. So he thinks he can manage it. “I can do it. Probably.” He says uncertainty.

It was slightly difficult to manage multiple sections of hair when you’re missing two fingers, but even surprising himself, he does manage it, after a few attempts. A little uneven, but works.

"Happy?" He asks her, patting her head.

It was good enough for the girl, who jumped up right after it was finished and cheered happily as an answer to Levi. She jumps to his arms, pulling him by the neck to plant a big smooch in his cheek.

“You're the best.” She beams at him, then running off to grab her bag which was by the door.

“Wow, mommy’s nonexistent now?” You fold your arms in mock offense.

She doesn’t answer, only picks up her bag and runs to hug you full speed, wrapping herself around your knees. “I love you.” She calls out, then turns to Levi. “And I love you too! I'm leaving now!”

Then she was out the door before you could say I love you back.

“Don’t run, you’ll fall.” Levi calls out to her, who was already far out of hearing range.

You closed the door. Then leaned against it, staring at Levi.

Levi looked away, cheeks heating up slightly, noticing the strange way you were staring at him, already knowing what comes after.

“So.” You said.

“So, what?” He said, glancing at you.

“Where'd you learn how to do braids?"

He huffs. "From you. I watched you do it.''

"Really?' It was so cute you could melt.

“Stop looking at me like that.” He grunts. “She’s my girl. I can do her hair sometimes, it’s not that big of a deal.”

“So, I’m not your girl?” You pout, exactly the same expression your daughter made just moments ago. “How come I don't I get braids?”

“I–” Levi starts, then huffing frustratedly. He can’t even say no to his daughter, who was he to say no to the mother? He tries nevertheless.

“I’m not doing it. Stop looking at me like that.”

You did not look away, pouting out your lips more.

“I won’t.”

You blinked, turning your expression sadder.

Levi gives up.

“C’mere.” He sighs.

[lune-redd]

Hello, it's Lelly.

As you may know, I have recently deactivated my Twitter account. A lot of people are speculating I left because I was being harassed for drawing my older depiction of Bubbles from The Powerpuff Girls as chubby. However... that's not the direct reason I left. In fact, I didn't really see much of the comments of folks on there getting riled up about it as I muted the tweet the morning I saw that it blew up. I was only merely aware of it all by being told about it from friends, with there being some other users on the site making other really fuckin' stupid comments about my art.

This does however lead into why I actually left Twitter, and it's because of Twitter's overall toxic nature. Overtime, I've really gotten sick of how absolutely revolting Twitter has become to experience. The site is basically built around dunk culture and doom scrolling. You know that one tweet of someone making an example of Twitter's utter stupidity by using pancakes and waffles as an example?

I bring this up because I think this fits my point about how Twitter has this thing of assuming the absolute worst about the most insignificant things, even the most innocuous. The "Bubbles obesity" comments weren't the only stupid comments that came out of that post. I also got a quote retweet that I was "forcefully feminizing Buttercup", even though the whole fucking point of that drawing was to depict a usually tough character in an unusual situation for her. I have also gotten stupid comments on other drawings though, like the one where Mitch pushes Buttercup down for trying to look taller than she is and I got called a misogynist for it, though I'm pretty sure that one was bait (Twitter users have a tough time figuring out what is and isn't bait, it's dunk culture that I'm about to talk about really doesn't help this).

The site's dunk culture is also really fuckin' bad. Quote retweets are a disease, as unlike Tumblr's reblog comments, quote retweets count as a different post. Someone disagrees with you? Show your audience how stupid they are on your page! Hey, are you trying not to see the most abhorrent racist statement imaginable? Well TOO BAD FUCK YOU here's a le epic own giving them all the attention in the world even though one of the most common internet rules are DON'T FEED THE FUCKIN' TROLLS YOU IDIOT. Oh hey, are you trying to explain how you prefer a certain artistic choice over another in something you like? Well you're a deranged ungrateful whiny nitpicker, get owned!

I've seen so many of my friends be belittled for simply discussing their artistic preferences of things they're passionate about. I had a friend who said he prefers the original Crash Bandicoot design over his redesigned look in Crash 4, and had legitimate reasons for why he felt that way (even if he didn't really explain them clearly), and he got dunked for it which made me mad. I'm sick and tired of it all. The reaction to my art is only a mere example of the shit I despise about that site.

I had been planning on leaving Twitter for quite some time, as my follower count was growing nearer and nearer to 10K. I had planned on leaving after 10K followers because that amount was wayyyy too fuckin big for me to handle. I'm a young and growing lad, and I felt it wouldn't be good for my mental sanity to handle all that, so I dipped. The amount of attention I've been getting is simultaneously both wonderful and extremely overwhelming. Even the explosion of new followers and asks on here is quite the load! (Seriously, calm the fuck down y'all) I am very grateful for all the supportive asks I've gotten even though I won't be able to answer them all, thank you all so very much.

tl;dr I didn't leave Twitter because I was being harassed or anything, but rather because of the site's overall toxic and belittling environment.

Adios.

-Lelly

[sarahsartistportfolio]

SAGAU: A Rumor Spreads

Forewarns: Female reader, real self indulgent shit, not cult au or imposter au, reader is a virgin, reader is soft and feminine, ok honestly this is straight up virginity kink I'm going call it what it is lol, Kazuha having a bittt of a corruption kink, Wanderer's section turned out really romantic? lol, this bit isn't 18+ but future chapters might be, Cyno on his knees for us👀, Xiao yearning hard,

AO3

Kazuha - Cyno - Xiao - Heizou - Zhongli - Childe - Wanderer - Maybeeee Lyney and Albedo

“Ei I’m thinking of planning a girls only getaway at an Inazuma hot springs? Would you and Yae Miko like to help me out?” 

The two are immediately beaming and receptive to the idea. Any chance for you to spend more time in Inazuma is quickly snatched up. As you sit with the two lovely ladies, planning out who to invite, where to host the outing, you explain to them that you’d rather keep this event private. If word got around(especially to the other nations) that you were holding an exclusive get together in Inazuma(at an hot springs no less) you’re afraid some nosy guests might try to peep in on the conversation. The two swear to you they’ll keep their lips shut but as your invites go out rumors just tend to spread. Now every woman in the nation of eternity would love to attend this private get away, just to get an opportunity to speak to you their goddess one on one. And of course there are those with a little more devious intentions of seeing their beloved goddess in such an exposed state. 

Oh and of course once the word gets around to the boys, the absolute disappointment on their faces plus the swirling curiosity. A trip with just the girls? What will you speak about that you don't want any male ears to hear? Is it about them? Are you going to speak about them in private?

(Heizou not so subtly asking Sara what was said on this trip. Thoma sneakily listens in to conversations any of the women have on the estate that even mention your name. Itto loudly and desperately begging Shinobu to tell him where you are holding this outing so he can just, you know, not subtly spy on your conversations.) 

Despite the rumors still floating around, you follow through with this little getaway plan. With extra reassurance from Yae Miko that if she catches any peeping toms she'll be sure to zap them. 

And despite some of the girls being more nervous to be so up close and personal with you, others are just jumping at the chance to see you so laid back and vulnerable. And the steam from the hot springs just seems to melt away your walls, as the night goes on you find the conversation drifting to…romance. You tell Yae Miko how you love to write sappy cheesy romance novels and she’s more than happy to give some of your rough drafts a read. You playfully start to run your hands through Kirara’s damp hair just to hear her purr and now suddenly Yoimiya is asking “Me next! Me next!”

It isn't until you sheepishly say “Ah well despite writing about romance a lot I’ve never actually been in love or slept with anybody.” that an audible pause washes over the group. The deer scare making a loud echoing “clink”.

Now they all begin to coo and question you. 

“There’s no way no one hasn’t fallen head over heels for your Grace yet?! You must be like thousands of years old, surely you’ve stolen someone’s heart” Yomiya loudly proclaims.

“Aww so you’re saving yourself for your one true love, how cute.” Yae Miko insinuated.

“When you say it out loud its embarrassing-”

“Has anyone caught your eye yet your Grace?” Sara asks a bit too calmly as she and Ei eye you down with anticipation. 

The girls continue to grill you with nosy questions “What’s your ideal type?” “Do you prefer men or women more?” 

And you answer them with giddiness, happy to spill your life long dreams of getting married and having a family of your own one day.

“Ah, so you desire to get married and become a mother?...” Yae Miko vocalized aloud, wondering what this would mean for the whole of Tayvet. 

“I know it's a silly little dream of mine…”

“It's not silly at all, your Grace!” Yomiya cheerfully chimes in. “If you have your heart set on someone let me know and maybe I can set up a huge fireworks display that spells out I love you.” She giggles and Kirara nods in agreement.

Thanks but I don't really want anyone to play matchmaker…

The rest of the night goes on with laughter and drinks. The women feeling blessed to see this vulnerable side of you. You assume the conversations you had with the ladies will remain private but…it seems like someone has loose lips.

Soon days after the trip, rumors start to pop up.

“Ah didn't you hear our dear goddess is still a virgin, as pure as a lily kissing the sun’s rays for the first time.” “I aspire to have the same chastity as her.” “I heard she’s specifically looking for a husband because she wants to have kids.” “Surely if she chooses a man from our nation that means she’ll permanently reside here right?”

When you meet up with Venti again he’s a little more gleeful than usual. And when you part to say goodbye he leans in, eyes close but you abruptly stop him with a hand covering his mouth.

“What are you doing?”

“I wanted to kiss you before anyone else does.” He says with disappointed eyes, voice still muffled by your hand. When you allow him to speak more it's then that you know. Somebody in at that hot springs squealed. 

And there’s no stopping these nosy rumors once they start going. What happens when they reach the ear of...?

[pedgito]

Hi Ali!! I love your writing and I was wondering if I can request dom Joel punishing you by riding his boot??

𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐒𝐄 𝐁𝐎𝐎𝐓𝐒 𝐖𝐄𝐑𝐄 𝐌𝐀𝐃𝐄 𝐅𝐎𝐑 𝐑𝐈𝐃𝐈𝐍𝐆

summary | joel doesn't like gifts, you gift him new boots. [3k]

pairing | joel miller x fem!reader

content warning | 18+ content, as always: no use of y/n, soft dom/sub dynamic, boot-riding, degradation kink, unprotected piv, one (1) face slap, porn with absolutely no plot.

author’s note | original working title for this was new boot goofin' because i can't take myself seriously, idk what this is but enjoy. kel (@beskarandblasters) suggested the actual title for this so thank you babe ♡

↝ other fics | requests? | ao3 | update blog | fic recs

Three things about Joel you were intensely sure of—he was a strong lover. He loved hard and he cared even harder, always willing to put your needs before his own, even to an unhealthy degree in some cases. Two, he liked to be in charge. With his willingness to put you before him, it also lended him to enjoy the role of being dominant in the right situations. He kept a lot of himself locked up around everyone but you. Through the few years you two have become close and started this relationship—if you could call it that—there’s a solid understanding of each other’s needs. He provides the domineering nature you crave and you subdued yourself to him willingly when he puts the facade on.

At first, it never left the bedroom. You both enjoyed the disguise of the dynamics to make things flow easier, not allow things to stall out so quickly and you had all the proper safety precautions in place to allow you both the happiness you seeked out. But, as most things in your life, they seeped through the cracks and bled out, intermingling with the rest of your daily life.

Sometimes it was just a look when you’d say something in public that was indecent or a comment that made Joel’s face go hot, knowing that despite his openness in public, he was still a very private man. He reserved that side for you and only you. And he did so much for you—not just around Jackson, but in your own home. With him being the lead guy for patrols and having such a…special relationship with him, it lended for more leniency when you weren’t feeling great or needed a break from the hectic energy that patrolling liked to suffocate people with, always on the brink of danger. And Joel was always too handy for his own good—always finding a reason to fix up a broken something in your own small house on the outskirts of Jackson. 

Broken pipe? Fixed. Chair broken? Joel could shape you out a new one in a couple weeks.

Last week he had repainted then entirety of your kitchen cabinets because he thought they were looking a little dull—as if they weren’t run down from years of abandonment and like this wasn’t the fucking apocalypse. Despite that, you felt the urge to thank Joel. And not just thank him.

Properly. With a gift.

But—oh. Third thing, Joel hated gifts.

Despised them.

But, you weren’t always the best listener or rule follower.

A patrol with Tommy had you both scheming up an idea when you bring up the option of gifting something to Joel as a proper offering of appreciation, his hand resting loosely on the rifle slung around his chest, fingers tapping against the butt. 

“Well—you know, there’s a clothing store a few miles east,” Tommy tells you, “Ellie and I found it when we cleared out that hoard a few months back—lotsa clothes and shoes, mostly untouched. We could check that out? I need to grab a few things myself anyways.”

You nod easily, “Yeah—that pair he has is falling apart. It drives me insane.”

“Joel doesn’t like to let go of things easily,” Tommy comments broadly, “He’ll make do with what he’s got until it falls apart.”

“Well, he doesn’t take no for an answer when I tell him to stop helpin’ me so he’s gonna have to suck it up just this once.” You smile slightly, earning a soft chuckle from Tommy.

You hoped it would go over well—because Joel did need new boots and there was little harm in an innocent gift…right?

–

Joel is brimming with an energy that only accompanied him after long patrols, the ones that lasted a few days and kept him away. Away from his home, away from you. He doesn’t even attempt the trek toward his own house, rather taking the first right and beelining for your small house at the end of the neighborhood, squeezing his leather covered hands into fists.

He’s anxious, pent up—not with anger or rage, but just a need to release some built up stress. Fortunately, he knew the perfect way to do that. His boots squeak against the hardwood of your front deck, the tattered rubber around the toe of his boot hanging on by a thread as he kicks it gently into the base of the door softly, idle as he busies his mind and prays that you’re still awake.

You’ve been waiting for him all day, his gift hidden away safely as you yank the door open excitedly, nearly tripping over your own pair of haphazardly thrown shoes on the floor.

Joel lets out a soft oof as he catches you, chuckling at your bright and beaming smile.

“Someone’s excited,” Joel chides playfully, though his voice is gruff. He sounds tired, looks it too, “been missin’ me, baby?”

You nod immediately, “So much,” You press a gentle kiss to his lips as he kicks the front door closed with his foot, slowly removing his layers—thick coat falling first, then his thinner jacket he wore underneath to leave him in a thick thermal, his skin still prickling with the winter chill but quickly warming underneath your touch, “everything go okay?”

“Yeah—just a bad storm comin’ in,” Joel explains, ignoring how distracted you were, allowing the soft pecks to his skin as you pulled away, slowly inserting yourself into his line of sight, mischievous grin plastered across your face, “—what are you up to, darlin’?

“Got a surprise for you,” You tease playfully, feeling his thick, calloused fingers slip under the thin material of your shirt, subconsciously seeking some contact with you, “can you go sit on the couch and close your eyes?”

Joel didn’t take too well to surprises, but he trusts you. So, he nods quietly, though there’s a slight hesitance to him as he takes a seat on the couch, slowly unlacing his boots in your absence to relieve some pressure but not taking them off completely, the tongue of the boot hanging lifelessly over his even more pathetic looking laces.

He can hear your soft footsteps as they approach, bare feet against the wood flooring as the couch dips slightly and he feels something hard and solid pressed into his hands.

“Okay, open ‘em,” You tell him gently, watching as he blinks his eyes open, expression mostly unchanging—it wasn’t unlike him to have little reaction, but it did worry you slightly, “—surprise?”

Okay, terrible idea. Got it.

“Darlin’,” God, you’ve heard that tone before, body tensing slightly, “I thought I told you I don’t need nothin’ in return from you.”

“Joel—you’re constantly helping me,” You argue softly, “it’s the least I could do. Plus, you need a new pair.”

“That’s not the point,” Joel tells you, “I do that stuff ‘cause I like knowin’ you’re comfortable, that you don’t have anything to worry about while I’m away.”

“And I worry about you too,” You interject quickly, “Joel—it’s just a gift, it’s okay.”

Joel places them on the table in front of him silently, contemplating thoughtfully.

He’s made it clear on several occasions that he doesn’t like things in return. That he does these things without the expectation of anything in return, but he appreciates the gesture. Joel isn’t used to people caring for him and it feels odd to allow it. And he sees the nervous energy inside of you brimming, like you’ve made a bad choice and you deserve the punishment.

 Almost begged for it. 

Your fists curl nervously in your lap, waiting for any sign that Joel had to offer.

And when he doesn’t respond, you find yourself curling into him out of instinct. Thighs spreading out over his lap as his hands follow the trail from your knees, up your thighs, until his thumbs are settling in the crease of your pelvis. You attempt a gentle kiss, but he’s reluctant to return it.

“Did I do something wrong?” You ask quietly, a genuine curiosity in your voice.

Joel shakes his head slightly, but the hand guiding its way around your neck tells a different story, his fingertips rubbing against the softness of your jawline, forcing you to look at him properly.

“Nothin’ wrong, but I do think I need to remind you of somethin’,” Joel explains in a soft, but demeaning tone, “that when I tell you I can provide for you and don’t need anything in return—that I mean that.”

You wait with baited breath, blinking rapidly at how hot his breath feels against your skin, feeling your cunt throb with need, with an insatiable want for him.

“And since you wanna buy me a new pair of boots—well,” Joel chuckles darkly, feeling your fingers tighten into the thick fabric of his thermal, “you’re gonna have to help me break ‘em in.”

You look at him, perplexed. But, his pupils dilate under your gaze, the subtle shifting as he kicks off his old, tattered boots as nods subtly to the new pair behind you.

You sigh breathily, “Huh—Oh, you want me to—”

“Ride my boot, baby,” He tells you clearly, “Seein’ as it is my gift and all.”

There wasn’t even a moment of hesitation as you slipped from his lap, table skidding back deftly in the process—you grab for the new pair of work boots but Joel is quickly grabbing your face again, squeezing your cheeks sharply.

“Undress first.” Joel says, waiting for your nod of acknowledgement before he lets you go.

So, you do—layer by layer until you reach your bra, unhooking it with nimble fingers as he slips on his new boots. If this were anyone else, you would feel ridiculous. But, with Joel, there was something there, brewing on the surface. He respected you, but he also needed you to understand.

It was a little humiliating, but it wasn’t the worst thing.

Your fingers edge along the hem of your underwear when Joel stops your hands, “Keep those on.” He utters, his fingers dragging softly against the front of the cotton material until he’s cupping your pussy in his palm, soft wet spot growing in the fabric where his fingertips drag across—you’re enjoying this, clearly.

You lower yourself slowly, straddling his left leg with your knees tucked against the bottom of the couch he sat on, pressing your cunt against the cold leather of his steel-toed boot.

Joel relaxes then, arms spread wide over the back of the couch, fingers gripping loosely into the cushion. “Don’t be shy, sweetheart.” Joel comforts, sensing your brimming nervousness as your fingers trailed along his calf, the hard press of his boot right against your core and if you tried hard enough, it wouldn’t take long at all—knowing that even just a little bit of encouragement from Joel and friction could have you coming undone. But, he wants you to work for it.

You start slow, a subtle grind of your hips that shouldn’t feel as good as it does. You sigh softly at the relief, noticing the slowly growing smirk on Joel’s face that you’re trying to avoid, eyes falling shut slowly as you tip your head back, allowing a slow rhythm to start.

“Feels good?” Joel wonders, “Like the idea of me carryin’ somethin’ of you around with me?”

In more ways than one—by a simple gift from the kindness of your heart, but also the desperation of the slick that damped your underwear and painted a perfect mess over his boot.

You nod quietly, moaning softly as you angle your hips to allow the drag of your clit over the solidness of the boot, friction sending your eyes rolling back in your head, hands fisting into the thick denim and selfishly using it for leverage as you quickened your pace. 

“That’s right, baby—want you to think about coming all over my boot for me,” Joel encourages, “can you do that?”

Truthfully, you were holding back. Seeing just how much you could get out of him.

But, Joel catches onto your game.

“You need a little encouragement?” Joel asks curiously, chin cupped in his strong grip, nodding obediently. “Think you deserve that, baby?”

“Please—please, Joel.” You beg, “Fuck—please, I’ll do—”

“Don’t say anything, darlin’.” He warns, “Not when you don’t know what that means for you.”

He keeps your eyes locked on his, squeezing your cheeks gently when you start to fade, the slowly building tingle in your core that wasn’t as easily ignorable now, coiled in your belly and ready to explode. You lose yourself for a brief second, hand fisting into the slack bunch of denim atop his thigh, earning a dull but stern slap to your cheek to bring your attention back to him.

“Eyes on me, baby,” Joel coos, fisting the hard line of his cock under the strained denim with his free hand, looking slightly pained at how much he was holding back himself, “look at you—always eager to please, huh?”

You roll your eyes slightly—and Joel really doesn’t like that. His hand cradling the base of your neck as he holds you still, body pulled just centimeters away from his boot, leaving your pussy throbbing with a lack of contact that your body craved.

“Now you just look a little pathetic, don’t you?” Joel asks, “All needy for my fuckin’ boot—got her beggin’ for it, don’t I?” And you know he’s not addressing you directly, rather the pool of your own slick, shiny wetness on the toe of his boot that gives you away.

 He nudges it against your clit gently, earning a soft whine as you hips instinctively seek for friction—Joel takes a slightly more firmer stance, head cradling both of his hands as he holds you prisoner in his gaze, two thick fingers slipping into your open mouth and grinning at how pathetically and greedily you suck on the digits without having to be told, removing them with a loud pop and a thin string of spit that connects you to him.

And if he was a stronger man, he could hold off. But, he’s so weak around you he can’t even hide it. He lets go in an instant, reaching for the front of his own jeans as he shoves them down his hips until he can manage to slip his cock out over his underwear, fisting himself in an instant.

Staving himself on patrols was torture when all he could think about was you—so he knows it won’t take much. Hell, he’s surprised with how long he’s been able to hold off now.

You admire with a haughty gaze, slowly resting back against the base of his boot, watching his free hand slip under his heavy sack, massaging as he jerks his fist without much rhythm, blinded by his own selfish need for release.

“Keep goin’,” He encourages through a tight breath, “but don’t fuckin’ come, darlin’.”

Your hole clenches and flutters around nothing, wishing that it was his cock stuffed inside of you rather than the plane of his boot pressed against your pussy, the thickness of his fingers alongside the girthiness of his cock a blatant reminder of how deeply you felt him in the mornings and even days after, always fucked so throughly it had you reeling and constantly crawling back for more.

He jerks himself selfishly, eyes falling shut as he feels himself dragging too close to the edge, your moans gaining in intensity, knowing how pathetic you would both look to anyone else. But, there was no one to judge you here—and Joel was beyond feeling the need to be assertive, rather just needing you, to be inside you and have you snug around him and crying on his cock.

Joel pulls you out of your daze hastily, manhandling you until you’re back is flat against the couch, quickly shoving his jeans down far enough that they don’t become a hindrance as he pulls your underwear aside and slips inside of you with a solid push of his hips, the slickness of your cunt allowing no resistance as you both groan at how good it feels, eyes connecting for a brief moment before everything goes black…or white. 

Joel isn’t sure what he sees, but it only takes a few minutes of some hurried and desperate pumps of his hips as his cock nudges that particular spot deep inside of you that has you clawing at the bare skin you could reach, leaving red marks on his neck as he snaps his hips with a finality, coming with a low groan that has your legs shaking, bent nearly in half as he still manages to see through his own haze and drag his fingers over your clit—it doesn’t take more than a couple seconds before you're there, spasming around his cock with a sob, gasping at his overstimulating touch as he continues to press and circle your clit until you’re begging him to stop, his hips slowly pumping his cum inside of you.

Joel finds himself laying slack against you, pants down at his ankles as he allows your fingers to thread through his grown out curls from where his head rests against your chest, trying to calm his rapidly beating heart.

“I appreciate the boots,” He says after a while, “if that wasn’t already obvious.”

“Oh, I’m aware.” You giggle softly.

“Seriously, no more gifts, though.” Joel says sternly, “I mean it.”

You pout slightly and Joel catches it, his eyes flicking up to look at you.

“I’m makin’ no promises to that.” You tell him truthfully.

Joel chuckles softly, “Can’t say I expected you to, either.”

[myzticbean]

Cat!Dad Series: You're My "Maine" Squeeze

Pairing: Qin Che | Sylus / MC (fem! reader) Tags: Super fluff, established relationship, cute cats, domestic bliss Can also read at A03

Previous posts in the Cat!Dad series:

Zayne: Quit kitten around - let's celebrate

Title: You’re My “Maine” Squeeze

Wrapping my arms around Sylus, I rest my hands against the motorcycle’s tank as it rockets down the dark street. I slip a hand under his leather jacket as we both lean into the tight corner, disappearing into the condo’s underground private entrance. The motorcycles that had been following us blew past, unaware we had already made our getaway. 

I laugh, a little giddy from the rush of adrenaline at the chase and successful escape (ahem, joyride), hugging his broad back and resting my helmet between his shoulder blades as he slows and parks the bike. 

“I told you it would be fun,” Sylus says calmly after he pulls off his helmet. I tug mine off as well, my bun squished to my head and tangled flyaway hairs sticking to my face, but I know I’m still grinning from ear to ear. 

“Another successful mission with my criminal mastermind partner,” I chuckle, shaking my hair out of the hair tie before throwing it back up into a ponytail. I swing my leg over and hop off the bike, and he stands as well, wrapping me in his arms in a quick hug. 

We wear matching black leather jackets, my curb stomping boots laced up over black jeans, and a custom thigh holster holding my (not-quite-legal) gun. I lean into his embrace, lifting my face to smile smugly at him.

“Admit it, I definitely helped you a lot this time.”

“You literally started a fight and got us thrown out -- of my own club,” he answers sardonically, tightening his grip around my shoulders and waist. But he can’t hide the lip twitch of amusement and the softness in his gaze as he stares down at me. 

“You needed to hire better help anyways,” I say airily, stepping out of his embrace and flicking a strand of my ponytail back over my shoulder saucily. “That they didn’t even recognize their boss…tut.”

“You do realize most people shouldn’t recognize me, otherwise it defeats the purpose of being the mysterious leader of an underground organization,” he responds dryly, locking the steering on his bike and grabbing the straps of our helmets in one hand. 

“That they didn’t even recognize your dark, dangerous, and sensual aura and let you do whatever you wanted is just a crime against nature,” I answer cheekily. I open my mouth to continue my teasing despite his grimace, when the hissing and howling of cats interrupts me.

As we neared the elevators, I saw a couple of cats brawling, two smaller dark colored tomcats wrestling a dirty, fluffy, absolute monster of a cat. Even while clearly outnumbered, it was holding its own and about to turn the tide of the fight when another cat appeared, intent on jumping into the fray. 

“Oh no,” I say, taking an unconscious step forward. I wasn’t sure how to intervene without getting scratched to holy hell when an empty can was suddenly thrown from behind, clattering as it pelted one of the dark cats on top. 

It screamed, not that it was actually hurt, but more in surprise as it backed off of the giant cat on the bottom. Without waiting, the big cat sprang to its feet, roaring like a tiny lion and racing forward aggressively. 

The tomcat didn’t bother waiting around to see if it could take the big cat on - it scrambled to its feet and raced away, the other cats following close behind. The bigger cat stopped, sitting on the ground in exhaustion, bloody scratch marks on its face, back and ears. 

“You poor thing,” I murmur, squatting down to try to get a closer look. It would probably be pretty skittish, especially if it has been a feral, unneutered male used to roaming the streets of the N109 zone and surviving. 

It turns to look at me at the sound of my voice, its tail flicking back and forth as it surveys me from where it sits on the cold concrete. “I wonder if he’ll let us take care of his wounds,” I say to Sylus who stands behind me, his hand propped casually on one hip as he looks between me and the cat.

“It’s a tom, probably not,” he answers.

“I tamed you,” I say a little tongue-and-cheek as I glance at him slyly over my shoulder. 

“Hmm,” he hums thoughtfully. “I might argue it was the other way around, kitten.”

“Here kitty, kitty,” I whisper, flicking my fingers at him. I moved to kneel down on one knee, not moving closer, but holding my hand out in case he wants to come over for a sniff.

The cat didn’t deign to move closer, but also doesn’t seem afraid or inclined to scamper away from us. He just peers at me with intent yellow eyes, his fluffy tail flipping back and forth as if to lure me in with the promise of touching it.

I can’t help myself -- I shuffle forward a little bit, my hand still outreached, wanting to see if he’ll let me get close enough to at least take a better look at his scrapes. He’s certainly not afraid - his watchful eyes are flickering all around. 

“Look at this handsome boy,” I croon, voice pitched a little lower, trying to entice him to take a step towards me. I wish I had some food for him. 

Sylus just sighs behind me. 

“Ignore him, kitty,” I suggest, trying to stifle a giggle when I see the cat’s yellow eyes briefly dart behind me before locking back onto mine. “You are definitely the biggest, most handsome cat on the block. If you come juuuust a little closer, I want to make sure you haven’t been hurt.”

The cat yawns, his sharp teeth on full display before he licks his nose and gives me a blink. 

“That’s right, big guy. You know I won’t hurt you.” 

Sylus suddenly chuckles behind me. “Let’s do this a little faster, shall we?” Without pausing, he activates his Evol, wrapping the cat in red and black swirls of color and lifting it into the air. It yowls in immediate displeasure, thrashing and kicking.

“Oh, don’t-” I try to say, before Sylus deposits it in my arms, though still wrapped up and held immobile by his power.

It freezes, looking up into my face, while I peer down at him. “It’s okay, kitty, I won’t hurt you,” I say soothingly. I resist the urge to pet it - it’s trapped and can’t escape, and my touch could do more harm than good. Instead I hold him close against me, cradling him gently in my arms as Sylus guides me towards our private elevator. 

We ascend to the penthouse as I’m trying to look over his wounds - with his thick hair, it doesn’t seem like he sustained too much damage, but I wouldn’t be sure until I could investigate more thoroughly. He is, however, extremely dirty and covered in fleas, which I can see crawling through the dirty fuzz. 

“He needs a bath,” I say, looking him over. “Do you think we should take him to a vet instead?”

Sylus scoffs quietly behind me as we enter our private floor. “I’ll make a call.” 

“My rich boyfriend is so strong and powerful,” I laugh, walking further into the condo and heading towards the bathroom. 

“Do we have any of that blue dish soap?” I call out as I settle the cat down in the shower. I need to grab a towel, and with Sylus’ Evol still activated, he won’t be able to move too much. I kick off my shoes and socks and grab a few fluffy dark towels from underneath the sink, whispering to the cat as I reach for one of the handheld shower heads. Since the shower is big enough for 10 people, the cat is safely outside of the spray as I test out the water and let it warm up.

“What a good boy you are,” I croon, kneeling down by the cat once the temperature has been adjusted, gently allowing the warm water to soak into his fur. The cat gives a grimace and gnashes his teeth, but otherwise doesn’t fight it. 

“Yes, you’re so smart, what a sweet kitty you are. You were definitely going to win. It was three-on-one, and look how strong and brave you were…” I ramble on and on as I soak him from the neck down, gently carding my fingers through his fur to try to get him completely wetted. 

Sylus walks in with a bottle of the dish soap, rolling his eyes a little at my running commentary. “I’m worried about you, sweetie,” he says lightly, squatting by the shower entrance and setting down the soap bottle. 

“Hush,” I say, fighting back a smile as I throw a mock-glare over my shoulder. “Squeeze me,” I say, holding out one palm.

“I wish,” he mutters before he obliges, squirting a heaping handful of soap.

I soap my palms together and get to work, thoroughly (but gently) cleaning up the poor, battered cat. His cuts and scrapes aren’t bad, but I’m careful to avoid getting too much soap in those areas to avoid any stinging. I keep speaking to the cat, voice low and calm, and he doesn’t otherwise flinch at being doused in water and soap.

“I wonder if he was someone’s pet?” I question thoughtfully. “He’s too well behaved for a feral cat.”

Sylus just hums but doesn’t say anything, his Evol still containing the cat though it’s obvious the animal isn’t fighting it. I make sure to wash off as much of the dirt and fleas as I can, rinsing and repeating one more time, and the amount of dirt pooling beneath the two of us turned the pale gray tile completely black. 

But as the cat emerges, clean and victorious, I’m astounded to see a pure white beauty in its majestic display. “He’s so handsome,” I gasp, gently drying him off with a soft towel. 

“I know, you’ve already mentioned it many times,” Sylus says dryly, but the humor glinting in his ruby-colored eyes is obvious. “I always knew you’d be a cat person.”

“You call me kitten often enough, I thought it was obvious,” I say, smiling playfully. 

It’s quiet again for a moment as I finish drying the cat off, before noting, “I don’t think he’s seriously hurt, but he had fleas and could use a check up.” 

As if waiting for my remark, the doorbell chimes, announcing a visitor. I look over at Sylus, who has climbed to his feet and casually strolls out of the bathroom. 

I reach out, cradling the cat in a new clean towel and exit the bathroom and into the living room where a man with a black kit is waiting for us. Without much expression and with almost no conversation, he takes the cat from my arms and begins his check up, and the cat -- who is still held by the black strands -- immediately begins to meow and scream non-stop.

“Oh, poor baby,” I whisper, clenching my hands but unable to help. I look on in concern, trying not to react as the impersonal vet quickly doctors the cat’s wounds and gives him a few shots. 

“He’ll be fine in a few days. I’ve given him his vaccinations, and a pill that will help kill off the remaining fleas.” 

“What kind of cat is he?” I ask, the cat looking even larger as the fur dries.

“I’d guess Maine Coon based on his size and features,” the vet says. “You can do a DNA test if you want to know for sure.”

“Will he get bigger or is he fully grown?”

The man lifted the cat’s lips, checking his teeth. “He’s a young cat, maybe still under a year old, so I would guess he’s still growing. Maine Coons can keep growing until they are around two years old.”

He gives me a few instructions on how to continue caring for the animal, and without much fanfare, leaves. 

“Let’s let him free now,” I murmur to Sylus after setting him down on the floor. Sylus releases his Evol, and the cat slowly stands, taking a few steps and sniffing the air. 

“He’s so cute,” I sigh, watching him tentatively explore his new surroundings. 

“He better not pee on anything until we can get him neutered,” Sylus mutters. “We’ll never get the smell out.”

I reach out, wrapping my arms around his waist and nuzzling into his chest. “You’re so wonderful,” I say, content and a little tired. The doorbell rings again, and I lift my head off his chest to look up at his face, puzzled. 

He motions for me to go, saying, “Get in the shower, I’ll get him settled. The twins brought some supplies.”

I smile in relief, giving him another squeeze, and silently beg for a kiss as I stand on my toes and lift my face. He cups my chin, brushing warm lips over mine in a chaste kiss. He gives me a second kiss on my forehead.

“Go on,” he murmurs. “I’ll join you soon.”

More than a week has passed since we rescued the cat. I’ve had to travel to and from Linkon for work, but Sylus never asks if I am going to take the cat with me or drop it off at the shelter. Instead, the cat seems to settle into the plush penthouse as if he had never lived a life on the outside, his kingly attitude right at home in the dark, romantic surroundings. 

After arriving a little later than I expected, I put my overnight bag away in the bedroom before I grab one of the new cat toys lying about. It’s a stick with a feather dangling from a string, and I flick it around on the floor and up in the air, laughing aloud as the cat makes a daring leap trying to catch it. 

“You can do it, Junior,” I cheer as he stretches out his paws, dagger-like nails exposed. Mephisto caws angrily in the corner, pacing back and forth on his stand as he watches the playful cat. They’ve been sassing each other all week, with the kitty missing chunks of hair and Mephisto decidedly more ruffled looking with mechanical feathers lying twisted on the ground. 

The door opens and Sylus walks in just in time to hear me, raising his eyebrows as he comes towards me carrying a couple of shopping and garment bags. 

“Please don’t tell me that name means what I think it means?” he sighs.

I start giggling and the cat takes a flying leap, tackling me to the ground. I ooph out a rush of air, his heavy body colliding with mine as I clutch him to my belly and roll backwards. Sylus drops the bags into the couch and strides over, grabbing the cat by the scruff of the neck and tossing him (somewhat gently) onto the coffee table. He reaches down, helping me to my feet as I fight off a giddy laugh. 

“It’s exactly what you think,” I answer, a sly smile twisting my lips as I reach down to pat Junior on the top of his head, his large, fuzzy ears twisting to catch our voices. “He looks just like his daddy, after all…”

“I did not, in fact, sire a cat. But if my little kitten is so inclined to have her own litter, I could be persuaded.”

I burst out laughing, pushing at his shoulder (he didn’t budge). “I’m not ready for a baby right now. Baby making, however…”

His eyes glint in the light, strangely dark as he locks his gaze onto mine, tugging me closer and into a tight embrace. He leans down, nuzzling his face into my neck, arms wrapped around my waist. “Let’s go practice now,” he suggests, teeth nipping gently at my skin in blatant invitation. 

I sigh, languid from the pleasure that courses up my spine as he trails long fingers down my back in a slow caress. He kisses me tenderly, tongue tracing the seam of my mouth before I open to let him in, our tongues pressing against each other in unhurried exploration. We’ve kissed hundreds of times, but each press of his lips to mine brings a fresh wash of affection and excitement.

I lift my arms to wrap around his neck, falling deeper into his kiss, but a demanding howl from the coffee table shatters the moment. I look down, meeting the irritated eyes of the cat staring back at me. “Sorry, Junior. You shouldn’t be watching mommy and daddy like this.”

Sylus stifles a long exhale before he reaches down, adjusting himself, and steps away back towards the bags. I follow along with interest, trying to peek into the bags, but he covers it up. 

“You can open this one now,” he says, holding out a shopping bag. “I’ll show you the others later.”

I look with interest at the other handful of bags and garment bags, but don’t press. I’ve learned that any surprise from Sylus is well worth the wait. Instead, I tear open the bag and read the brand name on the box. “Evol CommuniCollar?” I question, looking up at him in surprise. “Aren’t these ridiculously expensive?”

He scoffs, waving a hand dismissively. “Maybe if you’re not me.”

I roll my eyes. “You are such a snob sometimes.” I eagerly read the description. “It says here that it can translate everything your pet says into human language. This is so cool!”

I sit down and start fumbling to open the box, tearing off the flap corners in my haste to get it open. “Oops, I hope we don’t need to return this,” I say. He looks completely unconcerned as he settles on the couch next to me, as Junior perches politely on the coffee table near my knee, tail swishing back and forth. 

Reading the instructions, I open my phone and download the app as Sylus checks the battery charge on the collar. I fill in Junior’s information, noting his suggested breed and age in the settings. While Sylus isn’t watching, I set the AI voice to one of my favorite male celebrities that is (surprisingly) available in the list. 

Sylus gently adjusts it around the cat’s neck, making sure his fur isn’t being pulled or tangled, and gives him a single pat on the head.

Junior is still watching Sylus and gives a tiny meow, and the collar suddenly beeps, a deep, masculine AI-voice is clearly projecting from the collar. “Father.”

I gasp, practically swooning on the couch. “He knows you’re his dad,” I squeal, covering my mouth to hide the huge grin. Sylus looks taken aback, one eyebrow raised as he stares down at the cat that is still looking up at him. He obviously recognizes the voice when I see his sidelong glance at me. 

I hurriedly continue reading the instructions. “While animals may not experience the same family bonds, environmental stimulus, language or emotional capacity that humans do, they’ve been able to map the closest electrical triggers to feelings that we can understand.”

I laugh a little. “So I guess he knows you aren’t his birth father. Maybe you’re his step-dad.”

The kitty looks at me chuckling on the couch, attention flicking back and forth, and as he looks at me directly, he gives a single, long blink. “Wife.” The masculine voice is low and rumbly as he purrs a little.

My mouth drops open, and I don’t dare to look at Sylus. I’m trying desperately to stifle a cackle of mischievous delight, and I reach out to stroke my hand along his back. 

“No,” Sylus says, reaching out to catch my hand. “Don’t reward him for bad behavior.”

“How is he being bad?” I ask, choking on my laughter. I’m trying not to cry, eyes welling up as I gasp for breath.

“This collar is defective. Let’s throw it away,” he says resolutely, reaching out a hand to unclasp the collar from the cat before I bat his hand away.

“Don’t you dare. This is priceless.” I try to be stern, but my quivering lips and definitely giving it away.

He looks slightly irritated but does take his hands away and folds his arms across his chest. I turn back to the cat, giving him a little scritch behind one fluffy ear, and he closes his eyes, rumbling in pleasure. 

“Feels good. It’s itchy,” the cat collar says in its low, dulcet tones. “Wife. Wife.” The purrs get a little louder when I switch to the other ear.

“No, I’m your mom,” I correct, and the collar gives another little beep with tiny rumbling noises as if to translate what I said.

“No, not mother. Wife,” the cat collar responds, and the cat blinks up at me again, holding eye contact. 

I cover my mouth to hide my laughter when I see Sylus stiffen up beside me. “No, I’m your mother. And this is your dad,” I say, pointing to Sylus. “I’m his wife.”

I pretend I don’t see Sylus whip his head around to look at me. I’m trying to make a point to a cat, and this is the easiest way to get it across. How would a cat understand human dating behavior? 

The cat looks obviously disgruntled as the collar makes more translation noises. His tail lashes angrily back and forth, and he turns his head away from me, obviously not agreeing to my words. 

I lean forward, giving him a little kiss on his forehead, ignoring his mew of unhappiness. “I love you so much, my handsome little guy. You’re the bestest boy, aren’t you?” 

“Yes, I’m the best cat. Better than the bird,” the collar agrees, and the cat turns to nuzzle his head into my chin.

I pepper little kisses all over his cute little cat face. “Are you hungry?”

“Yes, I’m hungry. I’d like dinner, please. I want the fish one. The wet food, not the crunch food.” 

“Oh, you like the tuna more than the chicken? You should really eat the kibble too, it’s better for your teeth if you can eat some crunchy food,” I say, and we walk into the kitchen, chatting together. 

Sylus leans back against the couch cushions, sighing as scrubs one hand over his face before climbing to his feet and going to store away the bags.

Junior and I chatter back and forth, his sentences slowly becoming longer and more in-depth the more the collar was used. 

He finally finishes his food and I ask to gently wipe his face and whiskers with a clean towel, and he happily obliges, purring loudly as I clean him up. We walk together back into the living room, where Sylus has once more taken a seat on the couch, the fireplace crackling and the low throb of classical music coming from the record player. 

“Father,” Junior murmurs, leaping onto the couch and then clambering into Sylus’ lap (uninvited, but also undeterred). I smile, nestling into his side as he raises an arm and pulls me in closer. 

“Father, play with me. Play with me,” the cat begs, raising one paw and tapping it against Sylus’ chest. 

I try to bite back a smile, shifting away slightly so I can quickly snap a photo. Sylus resigns himself, reaching down to flick one furry ear before he tugs gently at a whisker. The cat grows ever more exasperated as he tries to bat away Sylus’ hand, who snaps his fingers and conjures up a handful of black feathers dusting along Junior’s head and back. 

“You wanted to play, and now you’re mad?” Sylus asks, listening to the cat muttering profanities (with the help of the collar) and hiding a small smile. 

Finally the cat huffs and flops down, and the feathers immediately disappear. We both look down at the large cat stretching himself along the length of Sylus’ thighs, Junior’s head resting closer to his stomach. I reach out, giving him a scritch as I nuzzle into Sylus’ broad shoulder.

Sylus presses a tender kiss to my forehead as he sweeps one long-fingered hand down the back of the cat in a soothing, absent-minded stroke. He drops his head, feathering kisses across the bridge of my nose and cheeks, before pressing a deeper, sweeter kiss to my lips. 

“So about that litter of kittens you mentioned…” I pull away to whisper into his ear as Junior finally settles and little snores start to emerge. 

Activating his Evol, he carries that cat over to his bed, settling him into the cushions lightly while he stands and hefts me over his shoulder. “Practice makes perfect, sweetie,” he purrs, striding into the bedroom and shutting the door while I try to muffle my giggles.

Junior licks his lips, snuggling deeper into his bed and drifting off into an even deeper, satisfied sleep.

Cat image source

[roosterforme]

The Younger Kind Part 12 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: You and Bradley both know you need to have a conversation and define your relationship. Bradley is excited to get home to you and do just that... and then maybe take you to bed for the rest of the night. But when Meredith crashes the scene, and someone gets hurt, he has to change his plans.

Warnings: Smut, angst, swearing, fluff, and age gap (18+)

Length: 4500 words

Pairing: Single dad!Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x babysitter!female reader

Check out my masterlist for more!

After Bradley dropped Noah off early at daycare on Friday morning, he had an hour until he needed to be on base. He wanted to get to you as soon as he could, but he stopped to get your coffee on the way. 

It was funny, because the baristas really did know him by this point, and they knew what his regular order was. He was probably the only person in the history of the coffee shop who asked to write the names on the cups himself. So he scrawled Princess and peasant on the two cups and handed the marker back to the barista, making sure to leave a tip. 

He knew where you lived, because it was very close to Penny's house, and he wondered if you were going to let him inside your place. He parked behind your car and made his way up to the front door of the small cottage that needed a lot of work. It was smaller than his house, which had more than enough room for three people. Bradley juggled both coffee cups into one hand and knocked.

And when you answered the door in your scrubs, fresh from the shower, he knew he was gaping at you. But you were no better as your eyes went a little wide at the sight of him in his flight suit with the sleeves tied around his waist. 

"Morning, Princess," he crooned softly, and you were smiling up at him as he handed you your coffee. "Give me your keys, and I'll move Noah's carseat into your car."

"You want to come in first?" you asked, and Bradley slipped willingly inside your living space. Everything had a dreamlike quality; he hadn't quite been able to imagine what your place would be like. When he was your age, he had owned nothing and had no one. Strangely enough, you seemed similar to how he had been, but it didn't come with a sense of sadness. You seemed independent and smart, and as you slipped your hand into his and pulled him further inside, Bradley leaned down to kiss your cheek.

"I would give you a tour, but there's nothing really to see," you told him, shrugging as you looked between your small living room and your small kitchen. 

"You gonna show me your secret Skittles stash?" he asked, earning a laugh. 

"Absolutely not," you replied. "You seem like the type who would have no self control if you knew the location. You'd eat them all in one sitting."

"That's not true," he promised, running his thumb along the back of your hand. "I'd save you half and you know it." He loved that smug smile on your lips, couldn't get enough, really. Then he looked around a little more, inhaling your sweet scent. He eyed a hoodie with Greek letters hanging on one of the hooks next to the door. "Were you in a sorority?" he asked, running his fingers along the fabric. 

With a soft laugh, you shook your head. "Uh, no. That belongs to my ex, Greyson. I keep forgetting to take it over to his apartment and drop it off."

Bradley eyed your pretty face and glossy lips. He knew all about college guys and cute girls, and he didn't want you going anywhere near Greyson's place anymore. "I could drop it off for you, Princess."

You released his hand and let your palm come to rest against his abs while you casually sipped your coffee. "You jealous, Daddy?"

Bradley hauled you against his body with a soft yelp, setting his coffee down on the table followed by yours. "Why don't you show me your bedroom?"

You wrapped your hands around the back of his neck and kissed him softly. "Won't you be late for work?"

"I don't care," he growled, letting his hands slide down your body until he was grabbing your ass and rubbing against you through the thin fabric of your scrubs. You were making soft sounds as you kissed him, and Bradley knew nothing except the desire to take care of you in every way.

"Okay, Daddy." You were leading him up the stairs, holding his hand and looking back at him as you led him into a room with a double bed and a dresser. Everything was tidy and it smelled so fucking good, Bradley was getting harder my the second. 

You looked at him expectantly as he started to untie your pants. Fuck. He was thinking about calling out of work and spending the day in your bed, showing you everything he could and would love to do to you. 

He licked his lips. "If we make this quick, I don't want you to think it's because I didn't want to spend hours with my face and cock buried inside you."

"Oh," you whimpered before you bit your lip. Bradley slipped his hand inside your underwear. You were soaking wet already, and so sensitive that you shook before him. 

He kissed your lips as he let his fingers glide through your silky wetness. Your hands were exploring his shoulders through his undershirt, and Bradley couldn't remember wanting anyone like this before. 

"Turn around, baby," he whispered, and you did just as you were told, bending over and bracing your hands on your bed. When he knelt behind you and yanked your pants and underwear down to your feet, he moaned at the gorgeous view he was treated to. 

"You okay?" you asked, since he had stopped touching you except to stroke your thighs with his thumbs. Bradley responded by nudging your legs a little further apart and kissing your pussy until his lips and mustache were all wet. You smelled and tasted so good. He wanted to smell like you for the rest of the day. You were whimpering softly, stuttering on his name, and as Bradley stood and unzipped his flight suit a few more inches, he basked in the genuinely needy noises you made.

You met his eyes over his shoulder, and he leaned down to kiss your cheek as he lined himself up with your tight pussy. "I just want to make you feel so good, Princess," he promised, pushing himself deep inside you with a groan. "You're too perfect for anything else."

"Bradley," you whined as he planted his hands next to yours on the bed. He covered your body with his larger one, wanting to protect you and make you feel like you belonged with him even while he fucked you. Maybe especially when he was fucking you.

"Princess," he whispered, kissing along the back of your neck and burying his nose in your hair. The slapping of his thighs against yours was filling the room, and Bradley had to bite his lip against the sensation of how damn tight you felt. He could cum now, he was certain of that, but he wanted to make everything good for you. "I want you to cum for me."

You took Bradley's right hand in yours and kissed his fingertips before guiding his hand so he was touching your clit. He groaned next to your ear and you turned to kiss the corner of his lips. "Touch me?" 

Bradley sucked on your neck while he spread you open and circled your clit with his middle finger. You were panting, exposing more of your neck for him to nibble on as you bucked back into his thrusts. But that first squeeze had him seeing stars as you keened. And then you got louder and louder until you were whining Daddy at full volume, back arched as you came for him.

When he finished a moment later, he let his hand drift up your body over your perfect skin until he was stroking you gently through your bra. "I can't wait to see you later tonight, Princess."

"Mmm," you sighed as he withdrew from your body. Then you stood and pulled your clothing back into place, and Bradley knew he would be thinking about your cum soaked underwear until he saw you later and got to do it all over again. 

"I think you earned your very own bag of Skittles," you whispered, running your hands along his chest and up to his shoulders. 

Bradley took your chin between his thumb and fingers. "I'm curious to know what you're going to give me after I spread you out on my bed later and really take my time."

Your eyes fluttered closed as he kissed you until you whimpered. 

"Shit, I need to go, Princess. Let me put the car seat in your car."

You took his hand and led him back downstairs, grabbing a bag of Skittles from a kitchen drawer and handing it to him while he looked at Greyson's hoodie again. "Thanks, baby. You know... I meant it. I can drop that off for you if you want me to." Simply the idea of letting your twenty three year old ex boyfriend know that you were currently getting fucked by him had Bradley grinning.

You pressed your lips together and tucked the Skittles into the pocket of Bradley's flight suit before saying, "That sounds like something a boyfriend would do."

He sucked in a breath, because you were fucking right. Flipping your ex the proverbial bird was boyfriend behavior, and he wanted to do it anyway. As it was, he already wanted you with him and Noah all the time. He knew he needed to talk to you about defining what was going on, because the app was off his phone now, and he'd been wanting you for weeks.

The expectant look in your eyes had him kissing your lips, and you had the audacity to lick his still damp mustache and moan. Would he get in trouble with Maverick if he stayed longer and had you again? But then his phone rang, and he discreetly silenced it as soon as he saw that it was Meredith.

"You and I are going to have a conversation later. Okay, Princess? Now where is your car key?"

--------------------------------

Before you left for class, you bundled up Greyson's hoodie and shoved it into a shopping bag. You'd drop it by his place one day next week, so there was no sense in leaving it hanging around with your other things. 

Just seeing Noah's carseat in your backseat had you smiling. And that smile lasted all day while you were in class and filling out information for your clinical research work. You loved being the one who Bradley knew he could trust with his son. You loved spending time with Noah and making snacks for him. You had the All About the Letter N! coloring book tucked in your bag along with your textbooks, and after you took Noah to the park, you and he could color. And then Bradley would come home. And you and he could talk. And then hopefully you would be willingly spreading yourself out on his bed for the rest of the night.

With a soft moan, you pulled up the address of Noah's daycare in your phone's GPS and headed toward your car. It was only twenty minutes away. He would probably be hungry when you got there, which was fine, because you had some ants on logs in a cooler in your trunk just for him.

But the look on Noah's face when you were the one who arrived to pick him up made you smile so much, it hurt your face. "Did you have fun today?" you asked him as he climbed up into your arms and hugged you.

"Yeah! Did you bring a coloring book?"

"I sure did, Noah. And I brought you a snack. Do you want to go to the park and have your snack on a picnic table?"

As he nodded against your shoulder, you decided to just head right for the park in Bradley's neighborhood. You could change out of your scrubs later when you took Noah home for dinner. You brought something cute to change into, but Bradley wouldn't be home until closer to Noah's bedtime anyway. So you parked near the picnic tables, not too far from the playground equipment, and took the cooler out of your trunk before scooping Noah out of his carseat.

"Ready?" you asked, taking his tiny hand in yours as you slipped your sunglasses into place. "Let's have a snack first, and then we can go on the swings."

The playground was not crowded, but the kids that were there were running around, laughing and screaming with parents and grandparents. The picnic tables were empty, and you helped Noah climb up onto one of the benches and kissed his head.

"Have some ants," you told him, lining several carrots up on a napkin for him. You crunched into one as you settled onto the bench beside him. He ate the rest of them, leaving a mess of peanut butter on his face and hands, but you had wipes inside the cooler. 

"Were they good?" you asked, laughing as he looked inside the cooler for more as you wiped his cheek clean. "You want more?"

"Yes," he replied, turning toward you with wide eyes, looking so much like his dad that you had to laugh. You could probably cook nonstop for the two of them, and they would just keep eating. 

You kissed his forehead and scooped him up from the bench. You tucked your trash inside the cooler along with the ice pack and led him to the swings. "I'll make you more after dinner if you're still hungry."

"Promise?"

"Of course, I promise!" you replied. The breeze was picking up a bit, but it was still a beautiful day. And as you pushed him higher and higher at his request, you smiled at the dad next to you as he chased a toddler around. You briefly thought about what you might be able to cook at Bradley's house, then you sighed realizing you should have grabbed his credit card for groceries just in case. 

You inadvertently made eye contact with a woman who was standing alone near the far end of the swings before looking away. She looked familiar, although you were also sure you'd never seen her before. After a few seconds, you could tell out of the corner of your eye that she hadn't moved, so you glanced her way again. She was looking intently at Noah, and you could feel goosebumps tingle along the back of your neck. 

The woman took out her phone, and you tried to slow the swing down and block her view of Noah, but then you felt apprehensive about turning your back toward her. The swings were too far away from your car. The picnic tables were blocking your path. 

"Let's go down the slide," you told Noah quickly, scooping him out of the swing as he complained and asked you to push him more. 

When you turned back to check, the woman had started to walk along the swings, closer to the slide as you helped Noah climb up. Suddenly you felt unsafe. The park was nearly empty. That guy with the toddler was gone now. Your heart rate picked up.   

You pushed Noah down the slide and then ran to help catch him at the bottom. And now the woman was creeping even closer with her phone out.  

"Again!" he chanted. With a deep breath, you walked him back to the ladder, helped him climb, and then made a quick decision. You had your phone and keys in your pocket, and you could leave the cooler behind. When you scooped him up at the bottom of the slide, you wrapped your arms around him and made a quick dash toward your car. 

It was a good distance away, and as soon as you started moving, you saw her moving too. She was rushing toward you now, but you had a clear shot at the parking lot. Your heart was thudding in your chest, and the feeling of panic that washed over you had you squeezing Noah closer. 

"What's wrong?" he asked, looking concerned as you ran as fast as you could with him in your arms. 

"It's okay," you gasped, glancing back to see that she was still right there. And now she was calling out to you. Ignoring what she was saying, you unlocked your car as you approached, nearly tripping on the curb as you flung your back door open. Your sunglasses slipped off, and you stepped on them, crunching them under your sneaker.

"Wait!" the woman called out. "It's okay!"

You shoved Noah a little roughly into his carseat, tightening the straps with one hand as you glanced over your shoulder and slammed the back door shut.

"Shit!" she called out, also nearly tripping over the curb. "I won't hurt him!" 

You needed to get in the car, but as you reached for your door, you tripped and landed on the pavement, and the searing pain that shot through your arm had you gasping. But you didn't have time to check yourself as this insane woman closed in on you.

"Stay the fuck away from me!" you screamed, realizing your pepper spray was sitting in your cup holder. You opened your door and climbed in, locking the doors and cranking the engine to life just as she approached Noah's window and cupped her hands to look inside your car. "You psycho!" you cried out, slamming your car into drive and peeling out of the parking lot.

You drove in the opposite direction of Bradley's house in case she tried to follow, but you didn't see anyone else pull out of the parking lot. When you glanced in your mirror at Noah, he looked like he was going to cry. 

"It's okay!" you tried to reassure him, but your own voice was shaking. "Let's sing." After you cleared your throat a few times, you led him in the dinosaur song that you and he made up last month, and that seemed to cheer him up and calm him down. 

You drove miles out of your way before you started to head back to Bradley's house. When you finally pulled into his driveway, you noticed that your right arm was scraped up and dripping blood, but at least Noah was safe. And as you carried him inside, firmly locking the door and leaning against it, you realized who that must have been.

----------------------------

Bradley was exhausted. He and Nat had been working with the simulation for hours. It was late, and he was starving, and he decided to skip the locker room and head right home. He wanted to see you and Noah, wanted to talk to you. If he didn't at least try to figure out what was happening with you, he was going to lose his mind. 

He wanted you. Noah already loved you. Of course, you'd be crazy to actually want to date Bradley, but he figured he should at least try. Test those waters with you. He couldn't ever remember being nervous that a woman might just want him around to hook up with. Although he supposed he could just keep doing that with you, if that's all you really wanted.

Bradley's stomach was growling as he tied his sleeves around his waist again. The sun had already set, and as he climbed into the Bronco, he scrolled through missed calls from Meredith and texted you. 

Be home soon.

You didn't respond, but his house wasn't too far from base, and you were probably playing with Noah. Maybe you'd be wearing your crown when he got back. Maybe you had made dinner. Maybe you'd kiss him when he got there. He found himself driving a little faster, smiling when your car in his driveway came into view.

But as soon as he unlocked the door and strolled into the kitchen, he knew something was wrong. Your back was tense, and you were coloring with your left hand. Noah was in his pajamas, and when he looked at Bradley his eyes lit up. But Bradley's gaze fell to your arm, and he rushed over to you. 

"What happened?" he asked, gently taking you by the wrist and examining you. "Tell me."

You looked at him, lips parted, but you remained silent for a beat. "I fell."

"You fell?" he asked, wondering why your voice sounded so strange.You looked tired and worried, but Noah was okay. And your arm looked like it would heal eventually. "Baby, tell me what happened." He was kneeling on the floor next to your seat, and you nodded slightly as he kissed your cheek.

"After Noah gets in bed," you whispered. "I'll tell you."

"Sure," Bradley replied, still worried as he scooped his son up and took him to the bathroom to brush his teeth. When he got him tucked in bed, Bradley kissed his forehead. "Go right to sleep, bub. I love you."

Noah looked at him with wide eyes as he turned on the nightlight. Bradley rubbed his shoulder as his eyes finally started to drift closed, and then he was dashing back out to the kitchen. You were washing dishes with one good arm, and Bradley reached around you to take the plate out of your hand and turn the faucet off. 

"Hey, don't worry about that, Princess," he whispered, turning you gently to face him. "What happened?"

You finally met his eyes. He pressed his lips to yours, but you didn't return the kiss. Bradley pulled away and examined your arm again. He needed to get you cleaned up, get the dirt out of the wound. "Will you talk to me?" he asked.

You cleared your throat and asked, "What does Meredith look like?"

Bradley cocked his head a bit but described his ex to you. The look in your eyes was making him nervous as he reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone. "I have a picture of her," he told you, scrolling through a photo album. "She's in the first picture I ever took of Noah. So I saved it." When Bradley held his phone out for you, he saw you swallow hard before meeting his eyes again.

"I took Noah to the park," you whispered. "After I picked him up from daycare. And there was a woman there. She kept looking at Noah. Looked like she was trying to take his picture."

"Shit," Bradley gasped, stroking your cheek with his thumb.

You nodded. "She made me nervous. Really upset me. So I grabbed Noah and ran for my car. After I got Noah in, I tripped and fell when I was trying to get the driver's door open. I guess I fucked up my arm pretty good. But I sped out of the parking lot away from her. Away from Meredith."

You had protected Noah. From his own mother. What the hell was Meredith doing?

Bradley pushed your hair back away from your face and examined your eyes. You looked upset but not like you were in shock. He let his fingers drift down to your neck and found your pulse was slightly elevated but not erratic. "I'm okay," you told him softly. "Promise."

He kissed your forehead, inhaling your scent. "Let me get your arm cleaned up, Princess." 

------------------------

You sat on the edge of Bradley's bathtub as he knelt on the floor and very gently and patiently cleaned your arm. You watched silently as he used tweezers to remove bits of asphalt from your skin before guiding you back so he could rinse your arm.

"You would make a good nurse," you muttered, and he glanced up at you. 

"Well, that means a lot coming from you," he replied, kissing your fingers before he guided your arm back under the water. "I'm sure you would have done a better job if it wasn't your dominant arm."

You just shrugged as he carefully dried you off and wrapped your arm up in gauze. Neither of you were smiling. He stood and gently helped you to your feet as well, and you buried your face into his warm neck and chest, trying to hold back tears. Because you knew without a doubt that the conversation you and Bradley were supposed to have tonight wouldn't be happening now. 

"Princess," he whispered, and your eyes fluttered closed as his mustache brushed your cheek. "I need to call Meredith."

You nodded, inhaling the smell of sweat and jet fuel from his skin. You liked to think he had skipped the showers so he could rush home to see you. You liked to think he missed you as much as he missed Noah when you weren't around. You wanted to hold onto that.

"I understand," you promised, letting your fingers settle on his abs for a beat before you turned to leave the bathroom. You felt like crying as you sat on the couch and tried to clumsily put your shoes on. But Bradley helped you, looking up at you with a serious expression.

"Thank you."

"For what?" you asked. All you had managed to do was get hurt and turn into an emotional mess over knowing Meredith had been the one to scare you at the park. You felt like an idiot.

"Thank you for protecting Noah, Princess," he replied, rubbing soft circles in your calves through your scrubs. "You don't know what that means to me." 

It was hard to believe that earlier this morning, you and he had been fucking in your bedroom. You leaned forward to kiss him, and he reached up to pull you gently to the floor onto his lap. Very carefully, Bradley helped you wrap your arms around his neck, and he kissed you for a while. 

When he pressed his forehead to yours and stood with you in his arms, you cautiously asked him, "Will you call me?"

"Of course." 

Bradley walked you out to your car and retrieved Noah's carseat. Then he kissed you goodbye as he made you promise to text him when you got home. 

--------------------------

Bradley sat on his couch, running his fingers through his hair. Meredith was apparently hanging around his neighborhood. You got hurt. Noah could have been hurt. Bradley needed to figure this out.

As soon as your text came through, he sighed.

Babysitter: I'm safe at home. I miss you already. You and Noah.

Instead of responding to you like he wanted to, Bradley squared his shoulders and looked at his missed calls. When he tapped on Meredith's name, she answered almost immediately, and Bradley's anger flared inside him.

"Well," she said with a laugh, "I figured I had your attention now. Thank you so much for calling me back, Bradley."

"Meredith," he muttered through clenched teeth. "What do you want?"

"I just want to talk to you. In person. I'll come by in the morning."

-----------------------

She's going to come by in the morning!! Ahhh! Enjoy your babysitter fic which you help me write, @beyondthesefourwalls And thank you @mak-32 !

PART 13

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[for-those-who-wait]

it hurts me to ask this, but how would blorbo!Hunter respond to the death of flapjack…

Blorbo Hunter has cat brain where he doesn't really have a complex thought process (there's another ask about this in my inbox that I'll answer once I doodle some more, I'll try to go more in-depth about it then) so I think it would be that situation where one of your pets passes and the other is confused about why their buddy isn't around anymore and why their owner is suddenly very sad

I would really like to make a comic about it but it would take a while and my brain is mush so, taking crack seriously, I think it would happen like this (very limited memory of what happens in the beginning of For the Future):

Blorbo Hunter is probably in somebody's pocket or bag for the whole altercation with Belos in Thanks to Them, so he didn't actually witness anything. Everyone is very torn up about it after they go through the portal, the blorbo is a little confused about why Hunter looks sad and weird, but he's just kind of chilling. Hunter can't really stand to look at the blorbo for a bit (something about anxiety about loss and wanting to distance himself emotionally as a coping mechanism) so he passes him off to Luz and the gang to watch over while he broods in the corner at the Owl House like normal. Blorbo Hunter is just hanging out, he's kind of wondering what's up since I think Flapjack would be as constant a presence for blorbo Hunter as he is for regular Hunter and he's similarly not used to not having that presence nearby. They are friends, they love each other, and he wants to know where his friend is!

I think blorbo Hunter has a little bit of a signal thing going where he'll make little gestures about things he wants (he just learned that Flapjack is more likely to interact with him if he opens his arms like he wants a hug, and he kept doing it). So the gang is familiar by now that when he splays his little arms out, he's referencing Flapjack. And he doesn't actually do that until they're all calming down, slowly trying to fall asleep at the Owl House, and he finally wriggles away to find Hunter (because he follows him absolutely freaking everywhere and he might as well have a natural homing beacon for that boy)

Hunter's not really trying to sleep, he's been Irreparably Traumatized, and blorbo Hunter climbs onto him and splays his arms out like "Where's Flapjack?" since Hunter usually knows where he is, and blorbo Hunter has associated Hunter with Flapjack appearing. Hunter isn't even sure if he should respond to that, because he knows by now that the blorbo just can't really understand the concept of loss like that. Hunter's probably tearing up a bit by now because of all the stress and emotions he's shoving down, and now he's got this innocent little thing looking up at him for guidance that he feels he's incapable of providing because Flapjack, the one thing the blorbo is asking for, is gone in a way that Hunter can't explain and the blorbo can't understand.

Blorbo Hunter, ever the cat, at least recognizes that Hunter's upset. The blorbo climbs up onto his chest, probably lays right up against his chin, and just sits there for the sake of closeness and an attempt at comfort. And for his part, I think Hunter would just grieve a lot about it because Flapjack was probably there to help him process even accepting blorbo Hunter in the first place (I think Flapjack would immediately love the blorbo and would have to spend a long time convincing Hunter to give him a chance as well), and now he's left with the guilt of having initially disliked the blorbo and also killing his friend. Like "I killed Flapjack with the hand that I am currently using to try and comfort this weird clone-cat-creature he was friends with, I'm so incredibly messed up and terrible for this."

This child can fit so much trauma and self-hatred in him holy crap

ANYWAY sorry for the ramble, hopefully that answers the question, thank you for asking it :))

[jirsungs]

ep 6: the latte lounge incident

word count: 2.1k words (i write a lot...)

Much time has passed since Jaemin's last text, and you were almost done putting the finishing touches to your makeup and appearance. Once you were done, you walked outside of your apartment and locked the door shut behind you.

Not even a minute later, a car honks from behind you, and you turn around to see your dark-haired friend as the culprit, sitting in the driver's seat of his white Honda Civic. You walk down to Jaemin's car, stopping in front of the passenger car door, which he opens for you.

The second you sit down and shut the door, you notice the many decorations around Jaemin's car. You forgot how decorative the man is.

A Kawaii plushie hanging on his rearview mirror catches your attention the most, you hold in a laugh seeing it.

"Um, since when did you have that?" Jaemin doesn't get what you're referring to until he follows your eyes and finds them eyeing his light pink bunny plushie hung by a darker pink sparkly chain.

Your friend claps his hand in realization, "Ahhh, that!" He sees you still attempting to hold in your laugh, "Ning bought it for me, and don't laugh! There's nothing wrong with a man loving and enjoying cute plushies!"

You ignore his plea and start giggling at his protest, "Just drive, Jaem."

He doesn't scold you for laughing. But before he starts the car's ignition, you see him jut out his bottom lip in a pout, making you giggle even more.

“Holy shit, that's Latte Lounge?” Jaemin makes a hum of affirmation in response to your amazed question. He continues to pass the coffee shop to find a parking space while you are busy, admiring the place. It's decorated cutely with two round tan-colored tables with matching umbrellas out front, an espresso-colored awning to help with the shade, and two lanterns on both sides of the awning. What amazed you the most was the string of people lining up outside the door.

Jaemin puts the car in park when he answers your question again, “I heard it's even prettier inside. I think the manager's a woman too.”

“That explains the nice decorations.” is the last thing you say before you and Jaemin exit the car to walk up to the line and join the wait.

Turns out Jaemin was right, the coffee shop was somehow decorated ten times prettier than the outside. The aroma of coffee beans and the chatter of customers welcomed you and it somehow felt comforting. You observe customers all around, your eyes skim through the room as you see a group of four sitting on the bean bags placed in the corner of the shop as they chat amongst themselves, a couple playing Connect 4 on one of the coffee tables near the board games area, and when you look up to the ceiling, you found it to be lit up with multiple hanging fairy lights. No wonder this place gained popularity two weeks after opening. 

Fortunately for both of you, the wait ended up shorter than you thought. For the number of people waiting, you and Jaemin guessed it would be a twenty-minute wait until it got to your turn, but here you were, already one person away from the cashier.

Your eyes slightly widen when you see who it is. Haechan? Rockway's lead singer? The man who absolutely rocked MJ's P.Y.T.?

It was different seeing him in a barista uniform. You’ve only seen him in his casual attire. But it wasn't a bad difference, it was different in a good way. 

As you’re both signaled for your turn, you notice how he's busy clearing out the previous order to look up at the both of you. 

Haechan's still pressing on the pad when he says, “Hi, welcome to Latte Lounge, how can I–” But pauses when he looks up and recognizes Jaemin. “What the hell, Jaemin! How’s it going, dude?” His once forced happy posture was now comfortably bright.

You found the sudden happiness plastered on Haechan’s face upon seeing Jaemin to be endearing. 

He leans over the counter to bring your friend in for one of those dap-and-hug guys always do and Jaemin immediately returns it with a tap on the guy’s back. With you now feeling awkward, you clear your throat in hopes Jaemin will get your mental signal and formally introduce you to his friend.

And thank god he does. Upon hearing your cough, Jaemin then turns to you, “Oh! By the way, Haechan, this is Y/N. She’s one of the friends I brought to your guys’ performance last Friday.” 

“Ohhh… so you’re Y/N.” Haechan, as you remember, says with a teasing tone. But just as you're about to question it, another guy who's preparing drinks in the back cuts you off with a yell to Haechan to focus on working. 

“Yeah yeah, I got it, Jeno!” Haechan yells back before giving you and Jaemin an apologetic look, mouthing a “sorry.”

Jeno… Jeno… Like, Jeno the bass player Jeno?! Since when did they all work at Latte Lounge? You think.

Wait. That doesn't include him, right?

Haechan, finally asking for your orders, interrupts your mental dilemma, and you don’t seem to remember what you were stressing about after you get your order number.

“Haechan, are you seriously sure this is gonna work?” Jeno doubtfully asks his friend for the seventh time.

The both of them were hiding in the employee's area after Haechan whined for Jisung to take his place at the cashier. When the younger one finally gave in, Haechan immediately pushed Jeno inside, leading them here, stuck in an area that reeked of coffee bean bags and dairy products so Haechan could discuss his plan with his friend for the—oh wait, he doesn’t remember the number—of times.

Haechan lets out an exasperated sigh at the repeated question, “Jeno, you’re stressing for no reason. Trust me, it’ll work. We’ll just have Jisung give Y/N and Jaemin their drinks and once he’s at their table, I’ll bump myself into him and—”

“Just don’t make it obvious or overdo it.”

Haechan frowns at the response, “I’m hurt that you really don’t trust me with this plan. I won’t do either of those things because once I push him into Y/N, her latte will spill on her shirt, PTSD, am I right?” He jokingly elbows Jeno’s side but stops when he sees no reaction from him so he continues, “Okay, after that, you party pooper, that’ll give Jisung the opportunity to fix what happened the first time and apologize by helping her out! See, isn't it a great plan?”

“Well… a great plan wouldn't include making it worse for him because now she'll end up with a second stained outfit and no caramel latte which may I remind you, Jaemin paid for that. Also, shouldn't we at least let Jisung in about this?”

Annoyed with Jeno's constant protests, Haechan shoves the round black serving tray in his friend's arms and pushes him outside the swinging doors in Jisung's direction, “That'll just ruin the authentic reaction, so just trust me, he's gonna thank us for this. Now, go get ‘em, tiger!”

“But I really think we sh—”

Once pushed outside, Jeno is suddenly met with Jisung's front and his sentence never gets finished. The younger one jumps at the close proximity.

“God! Geez, Jeno!” 

The older one only gives a small smile, almost resembling a puppy before apologizing, “My bad, Ji. Hey, uh—” Jeno's eyes shift to the round tray which Jisung follows, “Order number 89 is ready, can you serve their drinks to their table for me?”

Jeno tries his best to stay convincing but it only makes Jisung raise one of his eyebrows in suspicion, “And why can't you serve it?”

That one simple question causes Jeno's brain cogs to stop working because his attempt to be convincing is now replaced with hesitant stutters.

“Uh, well, you see…”

Back in the employee's area, Haechan is watching Jeno's performance behind the swinging doors and is left impatient because of how bad he's doing. He lets out a quiet groan before walking out to help him. He stands behind the helpless man and puts his hands on his shoulders as a show of support.

“It's time for Jeno's break, Sungie. That's why he needs you to take his place.” 

Haechan's tone sounds a little bit too casual and it leads Jisung to glance back and forth between both of his friends. Though he's still confused by Jeno’s sudden change in behavior, Haechan sounded normal and that was enough to convince him.

“Oh. Okay. Jeno, why couldn't you just say that then?”

Jeno shrugs instead of giving a verbal answer out of fear that he’ll make the situation more obvious.

Jisung gets the round tray from Jeno’s hands and walks over to the metal counter and places the finished caramel latte and iced Americano on the tray. Just before he’s about to walk out of the working station, he eyes his friends once more. Jeno’s still anxious while Haechan gives a tight-lipped smile. 

They're acting weird. But then again, that's normal.

He scans the place for a table with table number 89, once spotting it, he begins to walk over, his hands carefully holding the tray to avoid it spilling. As he’s walking up to the table, he recognizes Jaemin but sees he’s accompanied by a woman. Your back is facing him and your hair isn’t familiar to him.

Is he… on a date? Jisung thinks.

But right when he reaches the table, you and Jaemin look over, and the next thing you know, your drinks spill on it… and your outfit. Again. 

Neither of you has time to react because Jisung’s panicked placing of napkins and apologies distract you. “I am… so sorry. You guys can have drinks for free. I’ll pay for—” That’s when he finally sees you. Y/N.

Oh shit. 

And you snap. “Great, another ruined outfit. Are you doing this on purpose, like, do you enjoy this or something?” You bitterly dab the multiple napkins in your hand, trying your best to lessen the spill from spreading on your outfit. Your malice tone from Johnny’s party makes its appearance once again.

Similar to what happened during your interaction at Johnny’s, Jisung is just as confused as to why you’re being so difficult when his attempt to help you is purely an act done out of generosity.

“What the hell is your problem? Do you seriously think that lowly of me?”

You take your focus away from your shirt to look at the now defensive young man in front of you in disbelief, “Yeah, I do. This is your second time doing this, and the first time, you didn’t even apologize!”

Jisung rubs his forehead with his hand in distress, he becomes more visibly fed up the more your anger spews out at him, “Y/N, I’m sorry, alright? Just let me help you, please stop fighting it.” 

But his eagerness to help is what leads you to crack even more.

“Jisung, can you just leave?! I don’t want or need your help.”

And you guess, him too, because the thing you know, he can’t take it anymore and spits out his anger right there in the middle of the coffee shop, “You know what, fine. I tried to be nice and somehow gain your kindness back but you are making this so difficult. If you wanna stay stubborn, then have it your way. Stay fucking stubborn.” 

He ends with the slam of the semi-latte-drenched napkins on your and Jaemin’s table before storming out to the back of the shop, his mind completely shutting out the murmurs from the watching customers. Your breathing stops when you watch him walk away, and in the peripheral of your eye, you see Jaemin looking at you. Why does this feel embarrassing? Why are you regretting yelling at him?

“Jisung!” 

Your world blurs out again, the only sounds heard are from the swinging doors opening in and out along with the shouts and movement from Haechan and Jeno as they chase after the stupid drummer boy. For your benefit, it gives you time to fully indulge in what the heck just happened and ignore those talking around you. 

You mentally replay him getting mad at you over and over. He said it in such a manner that results in you having a guilty lump in your throat and your brain almost tells you to run after him and apologize. You’ve never seen that side of him before, though, you haven’t seen much with your small number of interactions. 

But your pride matters more. If he wants stubborn, then you’ll show him stubborn.

previous ☆ masterlist ☆ next

note: RAAHAHA their hatred is finally deep. thank the lord!! i had sm writer's block w coming up with this chapter but i'm honestly really happy w how this turned out :)) we welcome their enemies era with love and open arms

🎫: @idkwhatursayinh @sunghoonsgfreal @multifandomania @nanaxwi @odxrilove @sourrpatched @hancafe @chaellaa @dojaejunging @jising-jisang-jisung @heheheeral @haechansbbg @renjunsversion @seunghancore @woshixinqgiu @jiiieun @pinknjm

[straylightdream]

what am I missing

act nine: “Do I have your permission to touch you anyway I would like?”

feat: bang chan x f.reader, seo changbin x f.reader, han jisung x f.reader

↳ in your mid to late twenties you’re left wondering if you missed your sexual awakening. With a the help of friends you start to really find yourself.

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: for the story as a whole angst, a little fluff, body image issues, and self doubt, cussing all smut warnings listed below for what is in this story.

series masterlist

𝐟𝐞𝐞𝐝𝐛𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐫𝐞𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐠 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐬 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐠𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐥𝐲 𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝 𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐦𝐲 𝐟𝐢𝐜𝐬.

𝐚𝐧: I’m dying to know what everyone thinks about Jisung and what they think will happen in the future.

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: nipple play, clit and vaginal fingering, lots of dry humping and some dirty talk. for the story as a whole, oral (fem & male receiving), piv, unprotected sex, groping, threesome, use or traffic light system, choking, and spanking, the mc calls herself a slut more warning to come. Soft but dominant jisung, kinda sub reader for jisung. Being tied up during sex.

Your body feels warm and fuzzy as you makeout with Jisung laying on the couch. This is so much better than the secret drunken kisses you’ve shared in the past.

When he pulls away from you and stands up you can’t help but pout.

“Oh princess don’t be sad I just need to move you to your bed,” he smiles holding his hand out. Without saying anything you take his hand. He picks up his backpack off the floor and leads you off to your bedroom.

Once in your room he drops your hand. “We’re gonna try something today. I’m going to be dominant with you. I’m not gonna be extra rough or mean or anything like that. But I want you to listen to me and do as I say. I ask for your full communication. If you ever feel uncomfortable you have to let me know.”

“Okay,” you respond. You’ve never experienced anything like this before.

“I want you to strip naked and then sit on the edge of the bed.”

You don’t think twice, you just follow his instructions. He strips down to his boxers and looks through his backpack before pulling out silk straps. You aren’t sure what he has planned but you’re excited.

“Have you ever been tied down during sex?”

You’ve never done anything remotely kinkly. Your ex never wanted to do anything like that. Silently you shake your head.

He sets forward putting his hand under your chin. His eyes narrow in on yours. “Baby you have to use your words and answer any questions I have.” His words send a shiver down your spine. The way he’s speaking to you turns you on.

“No,” you say quickly.

“Good job,” he smiles. “Now lay down and place your hands above your head.”

Everything feels like a blur as he slowly ties each of your hands to your bedpost with the silk ties. Your eyes are trained on him as he strips away his clothes. He stands at the foot of the bed already very hard. His body is absolutely mouth watering. His thin waist is reminding you that your curvy body is bigger than him. There is this feeling of embarrassment that washes over you. You don’t know why but you feel very aware of how exposed you are.

“What’s wrong?” His face softens as he stares at you. He sits on the edge of the bed and gently rubs your thigh.

“I feel very exposed and I’m not super comfortable with my own body.”

“Baby you’re beautiful. If I wasn’t attracted to you I wouldn’t have you tied to this bed.”

You can’t help but smile suddenly. Even behind this dominant facade you can see the shy boy who drunkenly loves cuddling with you.

“Are you sure you want to do this? I need you to be honest with me,” his hand is still gently rubbing your thigh.

“Yes I want to do this.”

He stands up and gives you a gentle smile. “Spread your legs. We’re gonna use the traffic light system. Green means good, yellow means let’s take a moment to see how you’re feeling and red means stop immediately.” He’s sitting back on his hunches between your legs. The whole time you’ve known Jisung you’ve never seen him act this dominant before. There’s something thrilling about the way he’s looking at you. It’s a switch that goes off with him where one moment he’s gentle Jisung and the next minute he’s the man in control.

You nod silently awestruck by him.

“Baby you have to use your words,” he gives you a wicked grin.

“Okay.”

“Do I have your permission to touch you anyway I would like?”

“Yes.”

He lays on his stomach and licks his lips as he stares at your exposed core. You’re probably wet from the amount of dry humping you did on the couch. He runs his finger through your slit causing a silent gasp to cross your lips.

“I can’t tell you how long I have wondered what you taste like. Or what it would feel like to have your lips around me.” You would be lying to yourself if you said you hadn’t wondered what it would be like to see each of the boys fall apart in your mouth. The moment his lips connect to your core you can’t help but moan. You tug on your wrist desperately wishing you could tangle your fingers in his hair. Your thighs move in slightly but before you could close your thighs his head pulls back and shakes his head at you.

“Baby you have to listen to me. Keep your legs spread wide for me,” he tone is firm.

“Okay,” you say, feeling embarrassed.

He dive back into your core this time not only using his tongue but his fingers. He is like a man drunk on your pussy. You fall apart on his tongue before he pumps his fingers into you. He starts pumping two fingers helping you ride out your high.

You try to pull away from him as the overstimulation starts to become too much.

“Color?” He asked.

“Green,” you quickly respond.

“Is it too much for baby?” He’s mocking you and it shouldn’t turn you on but it does.

“Yes,” you whine.

“Princess, what do you want?” He sits back on his hunches.

“I want you,” you tug on your wrist again.

“What do you want from me?” He’s going to make you say it. You know he won’t go easy on you.

“I want your cock,” you whine.

“All you had to do was ask,” he smiles. “Where are your condoms?”

“Top drawer.” You’re thankful you moved your pink vibrator that Changbin asked you to save for him. You don’t think you could tell Jisung no if he pulled it out.

He hops off the bed and quickly slides the rubber down his length. He’s back between your legs within a minute. He runs length between your folds collecting your release. He taps his tip against your sensitive clit earning a moan.

“Needy aren’t we?”

“I want you to fill me so bad,” you play along because you know what’s going to happen if you do.

He fills you in one quick thrust. His hands grip your hips tightly. He bottoms out and holds still, “color?” He’s similar in size as Chan and dick curves up slightly so he’s brushing the perfect part inside you.

“Green,” you moan.

“That’s my girl.”

He slams his hips into yours at a quick but firm pace. You can’t even stay quiet if you try. Thank god you live alone. The feeling of his quick pace while he’s stretching you out isn’t like anything you have ever experienced before. One of his hands stays locked on your hip while the other grope your breast. He pinches your nipple hard, earning a moan. “One day I’m going to spend hours just playing with your tits,” he groans. “God you feel fucking amazing,” he groans snapping his hips.

His hand snakes up resting on your throat without applying any pressure. Eyes lock on yours as a warmth takes over you. “Can I choke you princess?”

“Yes,” you moan.

He applies pressure and your head feels like it’s spinning. He’s ever so slightly cutting off your circulation.

“Fuck,” his moans are intoxicating.

Your high hits you like a hot wave. You see stars as you fall apart moaning his name. His hips never stop as you ride out your high. He moans your name as you can tell he’s approaching his own release. He pulls out of you quickly and pulls the rubber off tossing it in the bin next to your bed. He pumps his length until he shoots his milky ropes onto your thigh.

He sits back on his hunches as he breathing slowly starts to even out. He jumps off the bed and walks into the bathroom. He comes back with warm wash clothes and cleans up his release before he unties your hands. He gently massages each of your wrist before he presses a soft kiss to the inside of each of your wrist.

You haven’t said anything, you just watch him and observe him as he switches into his aftercare mode.

“How are you feeling?” He asked softly.

“I feel great” you give him a soft smile.

“Was any of that too much?”

“Not at all.”

“Am I allowed to stay the night? I’m not sure if Bin or Chan did.”

He hadn’t brought up the other boys in a while and him mentioning them for some reason made you feel a little dirty. You try to push the feeling away. “They both stayed and I would really like you to.”

You get up to use the bathroom and brush your teeth. Once back in your room you lay down in bed not bothering to get dressed. Jisung is spooning you, not missing a chance to be close to you.

“Are you always like this?” You ask as he holds onto you tight. His body is pressed up behind yours.

“No I’m not. I can be gentle and give up control if you want,” he presses his lips to your shoulder.

“I like you in control. I just wonder what it’s like to be able to freely touch you during sex.”

“Next time I’ll let you touch me however you like.”

Regarding my tag list:

I have decided to pause my taglist for this story at least for now. It was getting extremely overwhelming tagging over 350. The taglist was taking over 30 minutes for me to tag everyone and it was quite discouraging barely getting interactions on my post for this story. I might open it up again. But now if you follow my taglist @straylightwrites you can turn on notifications there. I only reblog stories I post to over. There.

Thank you to anyone who has reblogged or left responses on this story.

[wolvesofinnistrad]

Now Expanded on AO3 here

The bed is hard and cold, not anything he isn't used to, but uncomfortable all the same. Especially with the way his body aches right now.

He wasn't even supposed to be on the ground, running into burning buildings wasn't really his main job description anymore. It was just...

The woman was screaming for her cat. And Tommy loves cats, he has his own, Missy. She's probably wondering where daddy is right now.

Who is he kidding, she probably didn't even notice he left for work.

No one is probably noticing he's missing. He likes the people at harbor, his coworkers, but they aren't family like the 118, Evan has told him how half the station will be sitting bedside vigil when any of them get injured. It must be nice to have that. After his childhood, shipped from one foster home to another, kicked out at 18, a family like that is something he's always wanted; fuck he acted like an absolute asshole just to try to get the old 118 to like him.

He's just mulling over whether calling Eddie and asking him to pick him up whenever they discharge him is too much when he hears the squeak of sneakers on the hospital floor and glances towards the door.

In stumbles Evan, looking scared and adorable and making Tommy's heart beat so fast the monitor actually beeps a few times in warning.

"Tommy, hey, are you okay?" He says, scrambling towards him, dragging a chair over with a loud scrape that has Tommy wincing at the sound.

For a moment all he can do is stare over at this human ball of sunshine, something in his chest unknotting. Fuck he really didn't think anyone would come, how did he...

"I, I'm okay," he says, trying to put on a brave face for Evan. He's older, more experienced, he should try to be calm and not get emotional.

"You look like shit," Evan says in that earnest way he has, sitting there and taking Tommy's hand in his own. His thumb brushes over Tommy's bruised knuckles, his concerned expression staring straight into Tommy's soul.

"Oh..." he says as he feels something crack open in him. Because Evan is here, he's holding his hand, he's worried for him he... He wants to take care of him, its written all over that adorable face. And well, that's, its not really something Tommy ever has anymore. "I'll be okay," he amends, and his hand squeezes Evan's even if it hurts a little. "How did you even?"

"The hospital called me. Apparently I'm your emergency contact?" Evan asks, and there's confusion there, but also something that looks like that same giddy contentment that Evan gets whenever Tommy does something to make him happy.

Fuck. He forgot he'd done that. That looked crazy and desperate, they'd only been dating a couple months.

"Uh, yeah it was either you or Chimney," he said, and fuck if that didn't sound pathetic. It wasn't like he didn't have friends. He had a lot actually, but none that he trusted implicitly like that. To see him weak and vulnerable. Chimney had saved his life though, and Evan well...

Evan leans in and kisses him. "Well I'm glad you did because I might not have known otherwise. Chim is at work right now so."

They sit for a while, Him recounting how he saved the cat but got blasted out a first floor window by the explosion. There wasn't any serious damage but he hurt like shit and had a lot of bruises and scrapes.

"Would you want to, y'know, come home with me and I can take care of you? Or I can stay at your place," Evan asks and fuck, fuck he is Not going to cry, he is not that kind of guy. But then, before he can answer.

Eddie rounds the corner, followed closely by Chim and Hen. Eddie's in plain clothes but Hen and Chim look like they came directly from the station.

"Tommy, shit, you okay?" Eddie asks, and Hen and Chim are looking at his chart by the bed and this is. Its too much. Its exactly what he wanted but wasn't at all expecting.

"I'm," he starts, looking at Evan for a moment before deciding, "I feel about as bad as I look, yeah." Evan squeezes his hand and his heart starts racing again and the monitor is beeping a little and he feels a tear going down his cheek. Evan wipes the tear away and then they're all talking. About what happened as Evan explains it for him, about a call where Hen saved a dog a few months back, about whatever. And fuck if Tommy doesn't feel safe, feel like he belongs.

Later that night, laying in his own bed, Evan having dragged him onto his broad chest in the same way Tommy usually does to him, he starts to think he could get used to this. He really hopes he can keep Evan, keep all of this for himself. Missy curls at the foot of the bed and purrs and he thinks, yeah, I feel like purring in contentment too.

[cringe-but-proud]

Hello! I noticed that your requests are open.

I was wondering if I could request a (2023) Wonka x Fem! Reader where she’s a writer who had/has been writing about the happenings with the startup of Willy’s chocolate shop, and writes about chocolate but has yet to find a chocolate she really likes so Willy makes it his mission to create something perfect for her, which leads to the two of them falling in love?

No pressure if you can’t! Have a great day!

Yea

Willy Wonka x Fem! Interviewer!Reader (Wonka 2023)

A/n: Just wanna say thanks for all the support! I was really nervous about posting my writing, but y'all have been nothing but supportive 😽 My requests are open (see pinned post for info) feel free to request any character 😛

After the sudden success of Wonka's chocolate and the downfall of the chocolate cartel, there were a lot of publishers around wanting to get the story of exactly how this all occured.

Willy was getting a lot of requests for one on one interviews from a lot of different people. But, he decided to do one with the only interviewer he'd met before.

Y/n.

She'd talked to him before all of his success, back when he was still hiding from the chocolate cartel and having to do his business in secret.

She was one of the few people who had taken him seriously while also not seeing him as a threat.

He was a bit excited to get to see her again.

The interview was happening in the part of his factory that was considered his office (he didn't like that title, because it sounded "too serious"). When Y/n arrived for the interview Willy sat right next to her.

"Thanks for letting me talk with you." She started. "I can imagine you've gotten a lot of offers from different publishers to talk about everything that's been happening lately."

Willy nodded. "There have. But, I wanted to see you." He replied, offering her a soft smile.

"Oh?" She tilted her head. "Is there a reason for that?"

"For wanting to see you? Of course there is. It's because I already know who great you are at this." He stated. "After the last time we talked, Noodle read me the part of the paper that our interview was in."

"Noodle?"

"Oh, Noodle's sort of like my business partner. The brains of the operation."

She nodded. "Could you tell me more about that?"

"Absolutely."

Willy went on talking about Noodle, how she'd helped him, the adventures they'd gone on, and how close they'd gotten. Y/n continued asking questions, Willy gave adequate answers, and eventually, Y/n closed the notebook she was writing in with a satisfied nod.

"I think that'll be enough for now." She said. "Is there anything else you wanted to talk about?"

"Yes, actually." Willy leaned forward in his seat. "I wanted to ask you a few questions."

She blinked. "Oh?"

"I feel like you know a lot about me, but I don't know anything about you." He explains. "And I think I'd like to learn about you."

She was a bit flattered by that and gave him a faint smile. "Alright... Feel free to ask me your questions."

"Why'd you become an interviewer?" He asked.

"I think everyone's story is worth telling." She began. "And what better way is there to learn about someone's story than by asking them directly?"

Willy liked that answer. "How long have you been an interviewer?"

She thought for a moment. "The first time I interviewed someone was for a school project when I was 15. So, technically... 7 years."

He liked doing this. He liked learning about her. Maybe he just liked talking to her.

"What's your favorite chocolate?" He asked.

"I don't have one."

"What?!" His eyes widened. "Everyone has a favorite chocolate!"

She shrugged. "I don't."

"Do you not like chocolate?"

"It's not that I don't like it. I've just never tried a chocolate that stuck out to me."

Willy couldn't believe what he was hearing. How could someone not have a favorite chocolate?! "Well, we've gotta change that." He said as he got out of his seat.

"Wha-"

"Follow me!" He took her hand and began leading her down the halls of his factory.

She was about to protest, but she realized she didn't have anywhere she needed to be. And why would she pass up the opportunity to spend more time with a guy who was this cute?

He led her through the factory, stopping in different rooms to let her try the many variations of chocolate he'd made. And each time she said the same thing.

"It's good."

He was glad she didn't hate anything he'd given her, but he wanted to impress her! He didn't know why he wanted to impress her so badly, he just knew this was something he needed to do.

After several more attempts at wowing her, Willy sighed, feeling a bit defeated.

"Well, Y/n..." He said. "I guess you really don't have a favorite chocolate..."

Oh god, now she felt bad. She thought for a moment before speaking again. "Y'know, now that I'm thinking about it," She said. "I really liked the third one that you let me try."

His eyes lit up. "Really?"

"Yeah."

"Do you think that one's your favorite?"

"Definitely."

He beamed. "That's great! That's amazing! I'm so glad you found one you liked!"

Y/n smiled at his excitement. Truthfully, she couldn't even remember what the third chocolate she'd eaten was. But, if saying it was her favorite made Willy this happy, then it was definitely her favorite.

She finally left the factory, surprised to see that the sun was starting to go down which meant she'd probably spent a good 4 hours with Willy. She'd barely gotten 2 steps down the street when she was stopped.

"Wait!" She turned to see Willy running toward her holding a jar of... Something. He stopped in front of her and caught his breath for a moment before handing her the jar. "This is for you."

Y/n looked at Willy, at the jar, and then back at Willy. "Why?"

"Because it's your favorite." He smiled at her.

"Oh!" He was giving her a gift. That made sense. "Right. I knew that. Thank you."

"It's no problem. We should... Talk again soon." Willy suggested.

"For another interview?"

"Just to talk with each other." He smiled at her. "I think you're fun to talk to."

"Oh." A blush creeped on to her cheeks at that. "I'd like that."

His smile widened. "Great! I'll be looking forward to it." He began to step backwards toward his factory. "Till next time, Y/n."

Y/n gave him a small wave goodbye before finally continuing to walk away.

A couple minutes into her walk she opened the jar he'd given her and popped one of the chocolates into her mouth.

Maybe this one really was her favorite.

[floralcyanidee]

ᴊᴜsᴛ ᴀ ɢᴀᴍᴇ - ɴᴇɪʟ ʟᴇᴡɪs

Neil Lewis x AFAB!Reader (NSFW)

After a fateful game night between your two rival video stores, Neil proposes a new way of playing your favorite games. Will this new idea lead to something more than playful rivalry?

warnings: smut, face-riding, oral (f and m receiving), throat/ facefucking, cum swallowing, drinking, mentions of alcohol, strip poker/game

word count: 3632

author’s note: still shadowbanned on my main account yay /j but I'm so glad to have so much support and love on this new tumblr! thank you all for the follows and feedback. I didn't proofread some of this (but what's new), so if it flows weird I'm sorry >.< lol please enjoy!! I've had a few requests for Neil so (:

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ᴅᴏ ɴᴏᴛ ᴄᴏᴘʏ, ʀᴇᴘʀᴏᴅᴜᴄᴇ, ᴏʀ ᴄʟᴀɪᴍ ᴍʏ ᴡᴏʀᴋ ᴀs ʏᴏᴜʀs ᴏɴ ᴛᴜᴍʙʟʀ, ᴀᴏ3, ᴡᴀᴛᴛᴘᴀᴅ, ᴏʀ ᴀɴʏ ᴡᴇʙsɪᴛᴇ. ʏᴏᴜ ᴅᴏ ɴᴏᴛ ʜᴀᴠᴇ ᴘᴇʀᴍɪssɪᴏɴ ᴛᴏ ᴜsᴇ ᴍʏ ᴡᴏʀᴋs ɪɴ ᴀɪ ɢᴇɴᴇʀᴀᴛᴏʀs ᴏʀ ᴀɴʏᴛʜɪɴɢ ᴛᴏ ᴅᴏ ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴀʀᴛɪғɪᴄɪᴀʟ ɪɴᴛᴇʟʟɪɢᴇɴᴄᴇ. ʏᴏᴜ ᴍᴀʏ ɴᴏᴛ ᴜsᴇ ᴍʏ ᴡᴏʀᴋs ᴛᴏ sᴇʟʟ ғᴏʀ ᴀs ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴏᴡɴ ᴄʀᴇᴀᴛɪᴏɴ

“That’s it! You’ve got to be cheating.”

“I am not cheating, Neil. Jesus.”

“There’s just no way you’re better at this game than me.”

“There’s a lot that I’m better at than you.”

“Woah, woah, woah,” Jonathan pipes up, coming in between you and Neil, “Let’s calm down here, guys.”

You glare at Neil, tossing your cards back into the pile. You had been playing UNO. It was tradition for your two movie stores to play against one another every first weekend of every month. And tonight, the players dwindled down to you and Neil as per usual, to which you won the final game of the night. Neil was obviously not happy about it. But lately, Neil hasn’t been happy about a lot of things. You chalk it up to his breakup with Violet. A sick, twisted part of you was glad he and Violet had finally broken up. Not because you didn’t like Neil or anything- it was quite the opposite. You were rivals, of course, but the tension between you was unmatched and intense. Every time game night came around, that tension became even more taut and thicker. But it’s not like you could tell Neil or anyone else you like him. Absolutely not. It would ruin the healthy competition between Gumshoe and your video store. And it would make you look hypocritical, considering how much you lightly bully Neil, especially when he wore those weird costumes at work.

“Two out of three?” Neil crosses his arms, sitting back in his chair, eyebrows raised.

“I think I’m gonna turn in, actually,” you start collecting the cards, neatly stacking them before putting them back in their respective package.

Neil mumbles a defeated, “Fine.” 

As you get up from the poker table, Lucien gives you an apologetic look from the ragged old couch sitting adjacent to it. Jonathan urges Neil to get up and accept his loss for the month. Meanwhile, your best friend and coworker Nina is busy aimlessly walking around the store, taking in the interesting scenery of Gumshoe Video. She acts as if she’s never been in here before, taking in various movies and movie posters. You walk over to her, card games in hand.

“Ready to go?” you ask her, and she looks up at you, only for her eyes to advert behind you as she becomes visibly flustered.

You turn to see Jonathan helping Neil pack up the games, smiling at your best friend.

“Does someone have a crush?” you coo, and Nina shoves your shoulder playfully.

“Me? Have a crush? You’re delusional!” she throws her hands in the air dramatically as she walks toward the door, you trailing behind her.

Nina goes into a rant about how she’d never date a guy from this city, much less a guy from our rival video store. You glance behind your shoulder, saluting Lucien and Jonathan as you leave. Neil doesn’t look at you.

The next few weeks are relatively slow at your movie store. You wonder if Gumshoe is doing any better. Judging by the new and more dramatic costumes that Neil has come up with, you’d say the answer is probably no. When you and Nina occasionally stop in there to casually scope out the place, you make sure to make a witty comment about whatever getup Neil is in that day. It always came with a frown from him and a laugh from you. Lucien would just act like he didn’t hear anything, a knowing smirk on his face when you meet gazes. You’d glare at him until he eventually went to do something else. You and Lucien are pretty cool with each other, and he figured out how you feel about Neil pretty quickly. Lucien wasn’t stupid by any means. Jonathan was too busy stupidly flirting with Nina to notice how your stare would sometimes linger on Neil for too long. Nina knew, of course, but she didn’t care much. She always figured you and Neil had something going on whether you two knew it or not.

It’s nearing the end of the month, which means another game night soon. You hope Neil has gotten over whatever animosity he felt toward you for winning the last game. How he reacted was odd- he usually didn’t make such a fuss. Once again, you figure it has to do with his breakup. But then again, he’s been kind of grouchy even before the split and well after it so far. You’re in your office at your video store gathering the games you’re bringing, along with a bottle of alcohol to spice things up. Maybe Neil could loosen up a little. Nina knocks on the door as she walks in, ready to go.

“Got the stuff?” she asks.

“Yep,” you say, popping the ‘p’ as you turn out your office light.

The two of you begin walking to Gumshoe as the sun sets. Nina starts talking about something Jonathan said the last time you were at their video store, to which you roll your eyes. Definitely not a crush at all, you think to yourself. You arrive at the store, knocking on the glass as you wait for one of the boys to unlock the door. Neil approaches and opens the door, allowing you and Nina in. You walk over to the poker table, where Lucien and Jonathan are already seated.

“So tonight we’re gonna try something new,” Neil claps, rubbing his hands together as he grins deviously.

“And what’s that?” you wonder, sitting down the bottle of alcohol in the middle of the table.

“Strip poker,” Neil smirks, grabbing the bottle, “And this will definitely make it more interesting.”

“Strip poker?” you raise an eyebrow.

“Yeah, or, well, strip UNO and whatnot,” Neil shrugs.

“Uhh,” Lucien chuckles nervously, “I’m good. I’ll just be the moderator tonight.”

“Oh, come on, Luc,” you pout, “Don’t make me suffer alone.”

“You won’t be suffering alone. Jonathan and Nina will be here with you, right guys?”

Jonathan opens his mouth and then closes it, looking to Nina for her response.

“Uhh, sure. I guess. But I’m not getting naked, that’s for sure,” Nina scoffs, falling into a poker chair.

“Thank you,” you throw your head back in relief, sitting beside Nina. Neil sits across from you as Jonathan takes the seat to your right, already grabbing the bottle of alcohol from Nina and taking a swig.

“Let’s get this started.”

You run your hands through your hair. Tonight was going to be a long night.

“Any article of clothing counts, right?” Nina asks after the first round of 21 is completed, meaning everyone but Jonathan, who had won, had to take something off.

“Correct,” Neil answers.

“Cool. Take my shoe and shove it up your ass, then, Neil,” Nina pulls off her shoe, pushing it into Neil’s chest.

He rolls his eyes, “Whatever.”

You decide to remove a shoe, and Neil does the same, tossing it behind him. 

“Another round?” Jonathan asks, sipping the whiskey that he brought.

You thought about taking a swig yourself but decided to wait until it was absolutely needed. 

“Sure,” Neil drawls, reshuffling the cards before dealing them.

This time, you win, and everyone begrudgingly removes another shoe or a sock. Nina snatches the vodka bottle from the table, taking a large gulp of it before slamming it back down. 

“Gonna chicken out already?” Neil taunts, gathering the cards to shuffle once more.

“No,” Nina says pensively, “It’s just lame that everyone else has to be involved in your weirdly sexual revenge plot against my favorite coworker over losing a stupid game.”

“I’m your only coworker,” you glare at Nina.

“Exactly. Now, if I will dip if it comes down to me flashing you guys my tits. Unless this alcohol starts setting in soon, then we’ll see.”

You raise your almost empty first cup, “Cheers to that.”

“Let’s get back to the game,” Neil grumbles.

No one says anything about Nina’s comment. After two more rounds of 21, you’re without a sock and shoe on your right foot and a shoe missing on your left. Neil has no socks or shoes, while Nina is just shoeless. Jonathan already took one for the team and removed his shirt and his other shoe after everyone lost to Nina twice in a row. Lucien cheered and clapped dramatically when Jonathan stripped his shirt, Lucien snatching the shirt and whipping it around like a lasso. It’s the first time tonight you see Neil crack a smile. 

“How about we switch to a board game now? Something quick, of course,” Nina shrugs.

“Be my guest,” Neil says, and Nina chooses Connect 4.

“Jonathan and I can go first,” she grins wickedly.

“Good luck, dude. She’s a master at this game,” you warn Jonathan, who cracks his knuckles.

“Nothing I can’t handle. I beat Lucien at this all the time,” he says, and Lucien protests.

“Only because you cheat,” Lucien says matter-of-factly.

“Well, since you're the moderator, you can make sure I don’t, huh?” Jonathan bites back.

Neil cackles while Lucien purses his lips together into a line, wordlessly watching as Nina separates the color pieces.

After 3 rounds of Connect 4, Jonathan has won one and Nina the other. You beat Neil once already, and now it was time to see if he’d win or lose this final round. You’re nervous because if you lose, you have to remove a pretty vital item of clothing. It didn’t matter if it was pants, your shirt, or whatever- it would be embarrassing. You carefully calculate your moves, studying Neil’s determined and methodical facial expression. He catches you in a trap, letting his color piece fall on top of yours, blocking you from your final winning move.

“Fuck,” you seethe, dropping your head onto your arms.

“Fuck is right, my dear,” Neil slides the lever, letting all the pieces fall onto the table, “Now strip.”

You scowl, reaching behind your back to unclasp your bra, pulling the straps over your arms, and tossing it to the floor. Neil watches, his eyebrows raised. Jonathan scoffs, and Lucien is distracted by the music video playing on TV. Nina laughs at Neil’s face.

“Neil, my guy, you look like a tomato,” Nina teases.

“Do not,” he protests childishly, gathering the colored pieces and putting them back into their little bag.

Jonathan checks his watch, “Shit. Gotta head to bed. Double shift tomorrow,” he frowns.

Lucien also checks his watch, “Yeah, I oughta go too. Early morning.”

Neil sighs, “Well, if you guys are up for it,” he motions to you and Nina, “I’ll still play.”

“I actually am getting sleepy, but I think Y/N is totally down to stay,” Nina volunteers you with a smile. 

You go to protest, but everyone is already heading out the door, leaving you with Neil.

“Well, shit. I guess it’s just you and I,” you scratch your neck.

“Yep,” Neil nods, pulling out UNO, “Wanna rematch?”

“Sure,” you chuckle, “But you can’t pout when I beat your ass again.”

You’re nearing the end of the first round, and your heart is starting to beat out of your chest. Both of you have one card left. And you’re going to have to remove your pants if you lose. You aren’t sure if you want to cross that line with Neil or not, but a game is a game. And you aren’t about to turn down your win streak and look like a fool. You draw a blue 9, to which Neil slams down his final card. A blue 5. 

“Noo,” you drawl, and Neil cheers.

You put your head down on the table in defeat.

“Time to-”

“Strip. Yeah, I know,” you sigh, lifting your head.

You reach down and hesitantly undo your pants, pulling them past your thighs and down your legs before kicking them away. Neil doesn’t look anywhere but your face as he shuffles the cards, his cheeks turning red. You nervously keep your legs closed, scooting closer to the table. 

In the next round, Neil loses, removing his shirt. His torso is slim yet fit for his size, and you can’t help but stare. Neil clears his throat, and you quickly look away. Now, the tension was thick enough to cut with a knife. It was way more intense than your usual tension. Especially since if you lose this next round, you’ll be showing something very revealing. Thankfully, Neil loses again, having to strip his pants this time. But it only makes you more anxious.

“We don’t have to continue if you don’t feel comfortable,” Neil says.

You shake your head, “I’m fine. I’m not pussying out.”

“Alright,” Neil puts his hands up.

You watch him unwaveringly as he shuffles the cards, distributing 7 for each of you. As the game progresses, you and Neil exchange increasingly heated glances. You catch yourself pressing your thighs together, biting your lip when you catch Neil staring at your nipples poking through your shirt. It’s time for the final draw, and to your horror, you lose again. Sighing, you begrudgingly grab the vodka and chug it. When you put the bottle down, you look at Neil, and he looks at you. Hesitantly, you grab the hem of your shirt, pulling it up and over your head. Neil keeps his eyes on yours, visibly trying not to look at your breasts. He clears his throat and shuffles the cards, focusing intently on them. Neil tosses the cards between the two of you, his eyes nervously flickering between your tits and the cards. Neil gathers his cards, neatly stacking them and putting them face down before standing up from his seat.

“I’ll, uh, be right back. Don’t look at my cards,” he says, his voice strained.

When he stands, you notice the painful bulge in his jeans, and the alcohol gives you a moment of bravery.

“Neil. Stay.”

Neil stops in his tracks, not turning to look at you, “Can’t.”

“Why is that? Never seen a pair of tits before?”

Neil rolls his eyes at your joke, turning back to you, “It’s not that. I just-”

You grab Neil’s hand, pulling him down harshly so his face is level enough with yours to kiss him.

“You’re not helping,” Neil whines after he pulls away, uncomfortably shifting around. 

“I mean, I could if you let me,” you say, biting your lip nervously, worried he’d reject you.

But maybe he won’t. Maybe he needs you badly enough that he won’t pass up your opportunity. You hope he doesn’t.

“Wouldn’t it be, I don’t know, weird?” Neil grimaces.

“Not if you don’t make it weird,” you say sassily, your hand now in his hair, gently pulling at his locks. 

“Fine,” Neil closes his eyes, exhaling shakily, “Let’s go to the couch.”

He walks over to the beat-up sofa, letting himself fall into the cushions. You get up from your chair, moving quickly to kneel on the floor in front of Neil. He stares down at you, gulping as you fumble with the fly of his jeans. You aren’t going to lie, you’ve been waiting for this moment for some time. Granted, it wasn’t here in the video store, but you’ll take what you can get. You pull Neil out from the confines of his pants and underwear, immediately marveling at his size and girth. He groans at the contact of your hand around him and spreads his thighs apart as you kitten lick his tip. You take Neil into your mouth, hollowing your cheeks as you slide your head down into his lap. Your nose touches his pelvis, his hair tickling it as you let him hit the back of your throat. Gagging around him momentarily, you take a deep breath and focus on the feeling of him filling you up.

“Just like that,” Neil praises, his fingers carding through your hair.

A swirl of your tongue sends his head lolling back on the couch, and he glances down through his lashes to watch you bob your head along his length. Your hands grip his thighs to hold him steady as you gain a rhythm, letting his hand guide your head back and forth. Neil’s hips stutter as he involuntarily thrusts into your mouth, and you gasp through your nose as you try not to gag. 

“Sorry,” Neil cringes, a moan leaving him immediately after you keep him deeper in your throat, letting it pulse around his head.

You stare into Neil’s intense blue eyes, now overtaken by his dilated pupils. Both of his hands are in your hair, gripping harshly as you move your head up and down even faster. Neil curses, hissing as you play with his balls with one of your hands, urging him closer to the edge. You can feel him twitching inside your mouth, letting you know he’s close. Suddenly, you pull off him.

“Fuck my throat,” you say breathlessly, jerking his wet cock with your hand as you wait for his answer.

“Are you sure?” Neil asks.

“Yes,” you say before putting him back into your mouth. 

When you let his tip hit the back of your throat again, Neil then pulls out, slamming back into your mouth with a strangled cry. Slowly, he starts finding a good pace, not thrusting enough to hurt you but enough for your throat to be sore tomorrow. Spit and precum are spilling out of the sides of your mouth, tears streaming down your cheeks as you gag and moan around him. You wish you could see the situation from a different point of view just to see how Neil is wrecking you right now. 

“You like me fucking your face like this, sweetheart?” Neil grunts, his hands holding your face and wiping away your tears.

You attempt a nod but fail, letting out a hum of content instead. 

“Gonna cum in your pretty mouth,” Neil moans.

You let him continue fucking into your face until he twitches a final time, his cum shooting down your tongue and throat. You allow Neil to pull out of you, and you close your mouth to swallow his load. You open your mouth to show him it’s all gone, to which he lets out a weak groan.

“That’s hot. I didn’t know you could do that with that sassy mouth of yours.”

You shrug, “There’s lots of things I can do with it. Now, lay down.”

Neil obeys, scrambling to lie down on the couch. You stand up, peeling off your soaking underwear and moving it away with your toe. You climb above Neil, “Ever had anyone sit on your face?”

“No,” he exhales, shaking his head.

“Would you like to?”

Neil nods vigorously, and you move up enough to rest your foot on the couch's armrest and press your knee next to Neil’s head, spreading open enough for him to have plenty of access. He marvels at the sight of your arousal and the fact it was all for him. He reaches tentatively to your folds, spreading them further as you lower yourself to his face.

Neil then drags his tongue up your wet slit, avoiding your clit entirely as he gathers your slick. You whimper at the feeling of the contact of his warm tongue on you, your pussy sensitive from lack of touch and being incredibly turned on. Neil then flicks the tip of his tongue along your clit, circling and teasing it. You cry out, gripping the couch with one hand and his hair with the other. You buck your hips as he swirls his wet tongue around your cunt, lapping up everything you’re giving him. 

“Fuck, you’re so good at this,” you moan, meeting Neil’s eyes below you.

Neil doesn’t respond but instead dips his tongue into your entrance, twisting it as he starts fucking you with it. Your grip on his hair tightens as you start rocking your hips on his tongue. 

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” you seethe, feeling warmth spreading in your belly.

Neil replaces his tongue with two fingers, moving his focus back to your clit as he sucks on it, pounding his fingers into you. He finds your G spot relatively quickly, considering you nearly jump out of your skin when he rubs his fingertips against it. You’re a mess, sweating, moaning, and swiveling your hips shakily on Neil’s mouth and fingers. 

“I’m close,” you warn, the tight knot in your stomach threatening to come undone any moment.

Neil picks up his speed on flicking his tongue and harshly suckling your bundle of nerves, letting his teeth graze against it as he adds a third finger. He lets you fuck yourself on his fingers hard as he lets his teeth bite into your clit softly, sending you over the edge. Your body shakes, your legs nearly giving out on you as Neil guides you through your orgasm. He holds onto your hips, keeping you steady as you buck them wildly. When you slow down, panting, he removes his fingers and sucks off your juices from them.

“You’re a filthy little fucker,” you chuckle, running a hand through your hair as you dismount from Neil’s face.

Everything about Neil acting weird and ornery around you suddenly makes sense. From the sneaky glances during game nights to him occasionally stopping in your video store to snoop for no reason, it was all for you. Just like everything you did was all for him as well. 

“So who wins this round, hm?” he asks jokingly, wiping his face with the back of his arm.

“Truce?” you ask sweetly, moving to sit on Neil’s fully clothed thighs.

Neil sighs, a weak smile on his lips, “Sure.”

“Now take off your pants,” you urge, “It’s time for round two of this game.”

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