#enjoying chocolate alone t-shirt

[spirity0]

There is no We in Chocolate t-shirt

Funny Chocolate Quote is a funny design with the saying There is no we in chocolate. Funny Chocolate Lover Saying Designs can be perfect for anyone who loves eating chocolates.

[joelmillerisapunk]

Divide my legs like a mathematician

Dbf!Joel x virgin!reader

Masterlist

Wordcount: 4K

Summary: you find yourself drawn to Joel's confidence and charm, unable to resist the forbidden fruit. After sharing an intimate moment by the pool, you're left feeling both guilty and exhilarated, eager for more.

Warnings: 18+, virginity loss, reader has first kiss, age gap (reader is early 20's and Joel is however old you need him to be.) Reader has hair and breasts, and wears a bikini, unprotected p in v, m&f oral receiving, fingering, Joel comes twice. Joel, being a typical middle-aged man, saying "you know.."

Notes: please do not read if this kind of dynamic or situation is offputting or something you do not like or enjoy or object to. Please be responsible for yourself and your fic reading. Love you bye 💝 and don't ask about the title unless you wanna hear and see something weird 😂

The sun beats down relentlessly, its fiery rays reflecting off the shimmering surface of the pool. You've sought refuge by its side, lying on a vibrant, floral towel, your swimsuit clinging to your skin. Your eyes flutter closed, and you breathe in the scent of chlorine and sunscreen, letting the warmth of the day lull you into a state of peaceful relaxation.

Out of the corner of your eye, you notice a shadow eclipsing the sun. You squint up, the brightness giving way to the familiar face of Joel Miller, your dad's old buddy. The one you haven't seen in a few years.

His salt-and-pepper hair, flecked with silver, is styled in a casual yet purposeful way. His muscular build is evident through his t-shirt and swim trunks. Joel's eyes, a stunning shade of chocolate brown, crinkle at the corners as he turns his attention to you, a smirk playing on his lips. "Well, well, well, who do we have here?" he asks, his gaze sweeping over your body in a way that makes you feel a bit nervous.

You shield your eyes from the sun with your hand before you reply, "Hey Joel, my dad's not here. He had to run some errands."

Joel chuckles, a small smile playing on his lips. "Well, good thing you're here to keep me company while I wait for him.”

You roll your eyes, but you can't help the heat that rises to your face. "I'm not here to entertain you," you say, trying to sound stern.

Joel chuckles, his eyes sparkling with amusement. "You know you've sure grown up since I last saw ya, more beautiful than ever."

You can't help but feel a little flattered by his words, even if you try to hide it. You've always had a bit of a crush on Joel, but you know that he's off-limits, the forbidden fruit. He's your dad's friend, and he's much older than you. You've never even had a boyfriend, but there's something about him that you find irresistible. Maybe it's his confidence, or his sense of humor, or the way he makes you feel when he looks at you. Whatever it is, you can't help but be drawn to him.

You try to play it cool. "Oh, please, you're just saying that because you feel awkward being alone with me and you're trying to be nice."

"Maybe, maybe not," he admits. "But that doesn't change the fact that you're beautiful."

You feel your heart flutter at the way the word rolls off his tongue, but you try to hide your reaction. "Prove it," you say, challenging him.

Joel raises an eyebrow, chuckling. "Prove it?" he repeats. "How do you propose I do that?"

You shrug, trying to act nonchalant. "I dunno, race me to the other side of the pool, maybe?"

Joel's laughter rings out, his eyes gleaming with a hint of mischief as he accepts the challenge. "You're on.” With a swift and fluid motion, he peels off his shirt, revealing his muscular chest and arms. The garment lands carelessly on a nearby chair, but you barely notice as your gaze follows the contours of his physique. You notice how broad he is and how beautiful in return you think he is.

Joel dives into the pool, cutting through the water with surprising grace and agility. The splash startles you, breaking your reverie, and you take a deep breath diving into the pool swimming as fast as you can towards the other side of the pool.

The cool water feels refreshing against your skin, but you're determined to win the race. You swim with all your might, your legs kicking furiously behind you. But despite your best efforts, Joel reaches the other side just before you do.

You come up for air, panting slightly, and Joel grins at you. "I win."

You stick your tongue out at him. "Fine, you win," you concede. "But that doesn't mean you're right about me being beautiful."

Joel's expression softens, and he looks at you with a seriousness that takes you by surprise. "You know darlin, I'm not just sayin' it to flatter you," he says as he gets out of the pool and then helps you out. "I've always thought you were beautiful. But now, you're all grown up, and I can't help but notice the way you move, the way you challenge me, it's all so - intoxicating."

His words make you feel self-conscious, but also excited. You've never had anyone talk to you like this before, and it's both scary and thrilling.

Joel notices your reaction and takes a step closer to you. "I know this is unexpected, and maybe even a little inappropriate," he says. "But, I can't help the way I feel. And I think you feel it too, don'tcha darlin?”

"I-I don't know," you stammer.

Joel's expression softens, and he reaches out to gently brush a strand of hair away from your face. "It's okay, take your time. I'm not goin’ anywhere." You take a deep breath, trying to gather your thoughts. You've never felt this way before, and you're not sure what to do. "It's okay," he repeats. "I know it’s a lot to take in.” Joel moves so his body mere inches away from yours. "You ever done anythin' before, you got a boyfriend?”

You pause, feeling the air get tense. You can't believe how abrupt he is to just ask like this. You shake your head, feeling a bit ashamed you've never even kissed a boy before, let alone have a boyfriend.

Joel can see the uncertainty in your eyes, but he also sees curiosity and desire. He takes a deep breath, and his eyes never leave yours. "You know, I can teach you how to please a man, how to be pleasured. I wanna make sure that when you do decide to be with someone, you're not so inexperienced."

Your eyes flitter around, never fully meeting Joel's gaze. "I dunno I've never done anything like this before," you admit.

Joel's expression softens, and he reaches out to gently take your hand. "I know babygirl," he says. "And I'm not going to push you into anything. But I want you to know that I'm here for you, if you want me to be."

You take a deep breath, trying to gather your thoughts. You know that what Joel is suggesting is wrong, but you can't help feeling like a snake, trying to convince yourself to take a bite of the juiciest looking apple you’ve ever seen. He's always been so helpful, and now that he's offering to show you the ways of intimacy, you can't help but be tempted. You really don't want to be so inexperienced when it's your real first time. "I want you to teach me Joel," you whisper.

Joel's face lights up, "I promise to make this a learning experience for you, somethin’ you'll never forget."

He takes your hand and leads you to a secluded spot by the pool, sits down on the grass, and pulls you down next to him. "First things first, let's start with the basics. You ever touch yourself?"

You shake your head, feeling yourself fill with embarrassment.

"S'okay," he says. "This is all new to you. Just do what I do, okay?"

He takes your hand and guides it to your bottoms, helping you to slip your fingers under the fabric. You can feel the heat radiating from your core, and you gasp as Joel's and your fingers brush against your clit.

"Just relax," he says, his voice soothing. "S’all about pleasure."

As you continue to touch yourself, you can feel something building inside of you. It's a strange, unfamiliar sensation, but it's also incredibly pleasurable. You moan softly as Joel continues to guide your hand, his lips close to your ear.

"That's it," he murmurs, his lips close to your ear. "Just relax and enjoy the sensation." You can feel the heat radiating from your core, and you can feel your body tensing as you get closer and closer to your first orgasm. Joel can sense this too, and he places a hand on your belly, feeling each jolt and tremor as it passes through you.

"Just let go, baby," he whispers. "I've got you. You're safe."

But suddenly, you pull your hand away, your breath coming in short, sharp gasps.

"I can't," you say, your voice shaking. "It feels too weird."

Joel can see the look of fear and uncertainty in your eyes, and he pulls you against his chest.

"Yes, you can, I promise," he says, his voice soothing and reassuring. "Just let yourself feel the pleasure. Let me help you, baby. Tell me what you're feeling, baby," he says, his voice gentle and coaxing. "What does it feel like when I touch you like this?" He starts rubbing circles on your clit again.

You take a deep breath, trying to put your feelings into words. "It feels...good," you say, your voice hesitant. "But it's also scary. I've never done this before."

"I know, baby," Joel coos. "But there's nothing to be afraid of. I'm here with you, and I'll never let anything bad happen to you."

Joel can see that you need a different approach, something that will help you to relax and let go of your inhibitions.

He pulls away from you, his eyes meeting yours. "Let's try something a little different," he says with a gentle voice. Before you can protest, Joel is moving down your body, his lips pressing gentle kisses against your skin. When he reaches your thighs he gently guides them further apart, leaving kisses all the way until he reaches your swimsuit bottoms, he pulls them to the side, exposing your clit. You gasp as you feel his tongue flick against your clit, the sensation almost too much to bear.

"Just relax," Joel murmurs, his voice soothing. "Let me show you how good this can feel."

He continues to lick and suck at your clit, his fingers slipping inside of you to stroke your G-spot. You can feel pleasure building inside of you, more intense than anything you've ever felt before.

"Yes, just like that," Joel murmurs, his voice low and husky. "Let go, babygirl. Let yourself feel it."

And suddenly, you do. The orgasm crashes over you like a wave, so intense that you can barely breathe. You cry out whatever vowels and constants your brain can, and your body shakes with the force of it. Joel doesn't stop, his tongue and fingers continuing to work their magic. Another orgasm builds inside of you, even more intense than the first. You can feel yourself on the edge, your body trembling with pleasure.

"Come on, babygirl, come again, such a good girl."

And you do. This orgasm tears through you like a lightning bolt, so intense that you see stars behind your closed eyes.

Finally, the orgasm subsides, and you collapse back onto the grass, your breath coming in short, sharp gasps. Joel moves beside you, his arms wrapped around you as he holds you close to his body.

"How do you feel?" he murmurs, his lips close to your ear.

You take a deep breath, trying to gather your thoughts. "I feel...amazing," you say, quietly.

Joel smiles, his eyes meeting yours. "I'm glad," he says. "That's exactly how I wanted you to feel." Joel's expression is gentle as he looks at you, gauging your reaction. He then reaches down and slowly starts to undo the drawstring of his swim trunks. "You ever seen a cock before?"

You shake your head, feeling a mix of curiosity and nervousness. Joel seems to sense your apprehension, and he takes his time as he pulls down his swim trunks, revealing his erect length. Your eyes widen as you take in the sight before you, the way the sunlight dances off his smooth, taut skin, the way the veins protrude just slightly, creating a roadmap. Your gaze drifts down to the base, where the same salt and peppered hair that graces his head dusts his pelvis. Joel gives you a moment to take it all in before speaking again, his voice barely above a whisper, "Do you wanna touch it?" The question hangs in the air.

You nod, feeling a surge of excitement and curiosity. Joel's hand finds yours, guiding it towards his stiffening cock. You can feel the heat radiating off of him. As you wrap your fingers around his shaft, you marvel at the weight and firmness of it in your hand.

"Mmm, that feels so good," Joel moans, his eyes fluttering closed as he relaxes into your touch.

Encouraged by his reaction, you begin to explore his cock more fully. You stroke your hand up and down its length, feeling it twitch and throb beneath your fingertips. Joel helps guide your movements, his hand covering yours as he shows you the rhythm he likes best.

"Tighten your grip a little... yeah, just like that," he murmurs, his breath hitching as you increase the pressure. Joel's moans become louder and more frequent, and you can feel him grow even harder in your hand. It takes no time at all for Joel to reach his peak.

"Fuck baby, I'm gonna come," Joel gasps, his hips thrusting forward.

You pull your hand away, unsure of what to do. Joel opens his eyes and looks at you. You look like a deer in headlights, and the sight almost makes him come without help. "It's okay, baby," he says with a gentle voice. "You don't have to do anything. Just wanted to give you an idea of what it feels like, what it looks like, what it tastes like," he says softly, "But, if you're curious, I can show you how to pleasure a man with your mouth."

You nod, your curiosity getting the better of you. "I want to, I wanna learn."

Joel smiles, his eyes softening. "Okay, just remember to take it slow. There's no rush."

Joel takes your hand and guides it down to his cock, which is already rock-hard and pulsing with desire. You can feel the heat radiating off of him, and you're eager to explore him further. With a gentle nudge, he encourages you to take him into your mouth.

At first, you're hesitant. You've never done this before, and you're not sure what to do. But Joel is patient and kind, gently stroking your hair and murmuring words of encouragement.

"That's it, baby," he whispers. "Just relax and take your time. Mmm, yeah, just like that."

Emboldened by his words, you begin to explore him more fully. You wrap your lips around the head of his cock, swirling your tongue around the sensitive tip. Joel lets out a low moan of pleasure, and you can feel his hips bucking up towards you.

Encouraged you take him deeper into your mouth. You suck harder, your cheeks hollowing out as you work him over. Joel's moans grow louder and more frequent. Suddenly, he grabs a handful of your hair, guiding your head up and down in a steady rhythm.

"Fuck, baby, I'm gonna come," he gasps, his voice tight with pleasure.

You pull back, letting his cock slip out of your mouth with a wet pop. Joel opens his eyes and looks at you, his breath coming in short, sharp gasps. "Keep goin’ like you were, just swallow if you can, it's natural."

Joel's eyes flutter closed as he helps guide your head back down to his cock, savoring the feeling of him growing hard in your mouth once more. You wrap your lips around him, taking him in slowly, and begin to move your head in a gentle rhythm. Joel's breathing grows heavy as he lets out a low moan, his fingers finding their way into your hair.

You can feel him tensing up, and then, with a shudder, he comes, filling your mouth with warmth. The taste is strange and unfamiliar, but you swallow, determined to please him. You pull your mouth away from him quickly, probably a little too quickly. "Joel," you say, your voice hesitant as you look over at him, catching his breath. "Can we... do it?"

Joel looks at you, his expression serious. "Do what, babygirl?" he asks, puffing out a response through caught breathes even though he knows what you're asking.

"You know...have sex," you whisper.

Joel's eyes widen, and he looks at you with a mix of surprise and desire. "Baby, I just came," he says, his voice gentle. "Let me catch my breath for a bit, and then we can figure somethin' out."

Joel's eyes meet yours, and he can see the slight hint of disappointment in them. But he understands, and he takes your face gently in his hands, leaning in close so that his mouth is almost touching yours. "Don't worry, babygirl," he says, his voice soft and soothing. "I'll make it worth your while." You can feel your heart flutter at his words, and you can't help but smile. Joel's breathing begins to return to normal, and he pulls back slightly, looking at you with a serious expression. "I think I have a couple of ideas," he says. "But, it's gonna take some effort on both our parts."

You nod, eager to please him and experience more of the pleasure he's shown you.

Joel takes a deep breath, looking at you with a serious expression. "I want you to take your top off."

You look at him in surprise, your hands instinctively going to cover your chest. "What? Why?" You ask, your voice hesitant.

Joel reaches out to take your hands in his, his eyes meeting yours. "Because it's a natural part of a woman's body, and it's one of the things that turns me on the most," he explains. "And I want to be able to pleasure you fully, without any barriers between us."

You bite your lower lip, you've never been naked in front of anyone before, and the thought of doing so with Joel is both terrifying and thrilling. But you trust him, and you want to please him. Taking a deep breath, you nod your head, signaling your agreement. Joel's eyes softened as he smiled, his hands moving to gently guide you onto his lap. You feel a flutter in your stomach as you straddle him, your thighs brushing against his. His fingers deftly undo the knot that holds your bikini top in place, and the fabric falls away, leaving your breasts exposed to the warm summer air. You feel a shiver run down your spine, your nipples hardening in response to the exposure.

Joel's eyes darken as he takes in the sight of your bare chest, his breath hitching in his throat.

"Mmm, so perfect baby.” Before you can respond, Joel leans in, his mouth capturing one of your nipples. You gasp at the sensation, your hands instinctively going to his hair as he sucks and licks at your breast. Joel's hands come up to cup your other breast, his fingers teasing your nipple. You had never felt anything like this before, the sensation of his mouth on your breast, his hands caressing your body. It's intoxicating.

Joel's hands start to wander down your body, his fingers tracing patterns on your skin. He reaches your bikini bottoms, and you can feel him tugging at the fabric. "Lift up for me, baby,"

You do as he asks, lifting your hips off the ground as he pulls your bikini bottoms down your legs. You're completely naked now, exposed to Joel's gaze, but instead of feeling embarrassed, you feel a thrill run through your body. Joel's eyes are dark with desire as he takes in the sight of your bare body.

"Fuck, babygirl, you are so damn delicious," his hands reach out to touch you. He runs his fingers along your inner thighs, teasing you. "Spread your legs for me, baby, nice and wide," he says, his voice low and commanding.

You comply, spreading your legs apart.

He leans in close, his lips brushing against your ear. "You have no idea how fucking sexy you are, do you? I've been dreaming about this for years, imagining what it would be like to touch you, to taste you."

You gasp as Joel's hand slips between your legs, his fingers finding your clit. "You're so wet," he growls, his fingers circling your clit in slow, deliberate movements. "I can feel how much you want me, how much you need me. You think you're ready, baby?"

You nod, feeling a surge of excitement and nervousness. Joel moves between your legs, his body hovering over yours. He looks into your eyes, searching for any signs of doubt or hesitation.

"If you want to stop at any time, just tell me," he says. "I won't be upset."

You nod and shyly say, “I'm ready.”

Joel positions himself at your entrance, his tip pressing gently against your opening. He looks into your eyes, searching for any signs of discomfort or fear. "Just breathe, babygirl," his voice soothes you a bit. "It might feel a little uncomfortable at first, but I promise it'll feel good real soon."

You nod, taking a deep breath as Joel starts to push inside of you. You feel a sharp pain as he breaks through your barrier, and you can't help but gasp at the sensation. “Ah, Joel, it hurts," you whimper, your eyes watering.

Joel curses under his breath, his eyes filled with concern. "I'm sorry, babygirl," he says, his voice gentle. "I know, I know, I gotcha.” He continues to move slowly, giving your body time to adjust to the intrusion. You can feel yourself stretching to accommodate him, and you can't help but wince at the discomfort. Joel leans down, almost kissing you, his lips soft and gentle against yours. "It's okay, babygirl," he murmurs. "Just relax and let me take care of you."

As he continues to move, the pain starts to fade, replaced by a strange, unfamiliar sensation. It's not entirely unpleasant, but it's not exactly comfortable either. Joel seems to sense your confusion, and he starts to move his hips in a slow, circular motion. "Feel that, babygirl?" he touches your lower belly where you can feel his cock hitting. "That's your body gettin’ used to me. It's gonna feel good soon, I promise."

And he's right. As he continues to move, the sensation begins to shift, becoming something more pleasurable. You can feel yourself getting wetter, your body responding to Joel's movements. "That's it, babygirl," Joel murmurs, his voice low and husky. "Let yourself feel it. Let yourself feel me."

He starts to move faster, his hips thrusting harder against yours. You think you can feel yourself getting closer to another orgasm and Joel can sense it too. "You like that, babygirl? You like feeling my cock inside of you? You like feeling me stretch you open, fill you up?"

You nod, a small whimper coming from the back of your throat.

"Good," he breathes, pushing his hips deeper into yours, the friction making him groan. "Tell me when you're gonna come, sweetheart."

You feel yourself getting closer and closer to the edge, your breath coming in short, sharp gasps. "I-I'm gonna come," you gasp.

Joel's eyes widen, and he nods, his hips thrusting harder against yours. "Come for me, babygirl," he growls, his voice low and commanding. "Come on my cock."

The orgasm crashes over you like a tidal wave, so powerful that it feels like every nerve in your body is firing at once. You can't help but cry out, a loud, primal sound that probably alerts everyone in close proximity to what's happening. Your body convulses with pleasure, every muscle tensing and then releasing as waves of ecstasy wash over you.

Joel's thrusts become more erratic, his hips slamming against yours with a fierce urgency as he chases his own release. His breath comes in short, sharp gasps, each one hot and moist against your ear. "Fuck, babygirl," he groans. "I'm so close. I'm gonna come too." You can feel him throbbing inside of you, each pulse of his cock sending another shiver of pleasure through your body. You wrap your legs around him, pulling him deeper inside of you, wanting to feel every inch of him as he fills you up with his warmth.

And then he's there, his body tensing as he reaches his own peak. "Fuck, babygirl," he groans. "Oh fuck!" He collapses on top of you, his breath hot and heavy against your neck.

You can feel his heart pounding against your chest. For a moment, neither of you say anything, both of you too caught up in the afterglow of what just happened.

Finally, Joel lifts his head, looking down at you with a mixture of awe and desire. "Fuck, babygirl," he murmurs, his voice still low and husky. "That was...incredible."

You wrap your arms around him, feeling a surge of affection and gratitude. "Thank you," you whisper into his ear as you instinctively start stroking his hair.

Joel looks up at you, "What are you thankin’ me for?"

You feel a mix of embarrassment and shyness. "For showing me how good it can feel."

Joel smiles. "You're welcome, baby girl. I'm glad I could be the one to show you." He leans in, his lips capturing yours in a soft, gentle kiss. You can feel yourself getting lost in the moment, in the feeling of Joel's lips on yours, in the warmth of his body pressed against yours.

Your first kiss.

But all too soon, the bliss comes to an end. Joel pulls away, his eyes meeting yours. "I better get goin'," he says. "Your dad will be back soon."

You nod, feeling a surge of disappointment. "Okay," you say kinda pouty.

Joel smirks and lifts your chin in his hand so you're looking at him. "Don't look so sad, babygirl," he says, his voice gentle. "This is just the beginning. I promise to show you so much more."

With that, he gives you a quick kiss on the forehead and he gets up, putting his swim trunks back on. You watch as he walks away, your heart heavy in your chest. You know that what just happened was wrong, that it's not something that should have happened. But you can't help the way you feel, the way your body responds to Joel's touch. You take a deep breath, trying to gather your thoughts. You know that you should feel guilty, that you should be ashamed of what just happened. But all you can feel is a sense of excitement, of anticipation. You know that this is just the beginning.

And you can't wait.

[repulsiveliquidation]

Special Instructions || María León & Ingrid Engen

warnings : smut, body writing, cunnilingus, strap-on, double-ended dildos, biting, choking, anal, and our dear friend, double penetration.

summary : you've left some detailed instructions on your person for your lovers to find and follow.

“Brand new sharpies…check,” you mutter, “more lube…check.” 

Mapi and Ingrid were at training and it was beginning to be a bore to stay in the house all alone. You’d been doom scrolling on X when you stumbled upon some interesting content. 

Already very thoroughly satisfied in the bedroom, you were eager to bring in more activities that you were certain the girls would enjoy wholeheartedly. 

Picking up a coffee and pastries for snacks, you head home and happily bring your new toys into the house. Dumping the food on the counter and ripping the sharpies open, you take one and practically run into the bedroom to steal a shirt from Mapi.

Your best lingerie was air-drying in the bathroom while you took a warm shower to clean up. You stood in front of the mirror stark naked, marker in hand. You shook a little, a light blush growing on your cheeks. 

“What do I write?” you wonder to yourself, grabbing your phone off the counter to check your bookmarks. This was going to be fun. 

Ingrid scolds Mapi as they walk into the house, the jingle of their keys sends a shiver down your spine. You’re all set by the bedroom door, heart swelling with love as you hear the two of them bicker. 

“Ingrid, you have to be diabolical to enjoy mint chocolate chip ice-cream when there are so many other flavors to enjoy?”

“Mapi, if I cared, I would argue. But I don’t. Especially when you’re the only adult in the world who likes cherry.” 

“Excuse me, don’t you dare- what do we have here?” 

You’re sitting on your knees, hands neatly folded in your lap and a hilariously big t-shirt falling off your shoulders. They stand at the door, Mapi’s eyes looking slightly concerned while, to your surprise, Ingrid’s look almost predatory. She slowly circles you, eyes trying to undress you. Mapi kneels before you, tilting your head up to look at her. You take your shirt off and they both audibly gasp, sending a shiver down your spine. 

“What’s this amor?” Mapi asks, finger touching the black ink that glowed on your milky skin.

You giggle and bite your lip, head spinning. You watch as Ingrid’s eyes take in all the words that spell out detailed descriptions about what you wanted her and Mapi to do to you.

“Breed here?” Ingrid asks dismissively, finger pointing right at your core as she stood above you. 

“Si,” you nod, “want you two to use me however you want.”

“However we want?” Mapi asks, in a little disbelief. You remain solid in your decision. 

“Yes,” you say confidently. You look Ingrid in the eyes when you say the next bit.

“I want you to fuck me like you mean it,” you stand, “and i’ve told you where and how i want it.” 

A smirk appears on Mapi’s face, eyes lit up like a child’s on christmas day. Ingrid on the other hand, remains stone faced and tough, leaning in to whisper into Mapi’s ear. 

You stand a little far from them and can barely hear the whispers when Ingrid clears her throat. 

“On the bed, on your knees, not a fucking sound, got it?” 

“Yes Ingrid,” you mutter, scrambling to the middle of the four-poster bed. You settle on your knees, knees spread like Ingrid likes while keeping your mouth shut. You stare at the sheets, keeping your eyes closed for good measure. 

There’s rustling and bustling, along with sharp whispers and mentions of your name like you weren’t in the room. It made you embarrassingly wet at the mere idea that they were about to use you like some “thing” they had lying around. 

Ingrid climbs onto the bed first, eyes examining the instructions you’ve so kindly left for them. She reads one out loud, the effect of her words make you feel light headed with pleasure. 

“Bite here,” she reads off your right breast, “suck here,” on the left. In the middle, you wrote “kiss here,” you smile up at Ingrid and watch as she takes in all the other words you’ve left your girlfriends.

Mapi gets right behind Ingrid and looks over her shoulder, hands coming around to graze the words along your inner thigh that she found extremely hot. 

“Do as our princess says Ingrid, hasn’t she been such a good girl lately?” 

“Yes, I think she has,” Ingrid answers, tilting her head back and kissing Mapi. You watch as your pussy gets wetter and wetter at the sight, a desperate whine just waiting in your throat.

Ingrid kissed slowly up your toned stomach, before taking your right breast in her mouth to bite. Her teeth sink into your soft flesh, nipple taut in her mouth. You moan softly, feeling her hands caress your slightly numb thighs. 

She moved to the other side swiftly, sucking hard on your nipple. It’s sloppy and wet, exactly how you had imagined it going. She pulls away, hands hovering over your slightly chilly chest. 

“Can I fondle them, darling?” Ingrid asks formally, hands seemingly hard to hold back from touching without asking. 

“O-Of course you can Ingrid, you d-don’t have to ask,” you stutter, before she uses her most humiliating tone. You think you gush onto the sheets and make a mess as she degrades you. 

“Oh but kjæreste you didn’t write that down for me to do, so how can I without asking? Wouldn’t that be rude?” 

Your brain goes blank, eyes filling with subby tears. 

“R-Rude? You’re not r-rude Ingrid, you can touch how you want!” 

Ingrid gives in as she coos, hands kneading your aching breasts soothingly. She kisses your forehead and wipes your tears away, hands caressing your clammy skin while being careful to avoid the ink so it doesn’t smudge.

Mapi on the other hand, had her phone out to collect documentation. She was sure you would enjoy the pictures she was taking as much as she and Ingrid would after all this was said and done. 

Ingrid kisses down your chest as per the instructions, hands still kneading and smacking your breasts. She stops right in front of your cunt, fingers gently rubbing the words you had left on the insides of your thighs. 

“Breed here,” on the left and “eat me!” on the right. 

“Good girl,” Ingrid praises, “you were so clear with what you wanted elskling, I’m so pleased.” 

Mapi appears by your head suddenly, wearing her strap and slipping something underneath Ingrid’s pillow. She kisses your chest and leaves a smack on your right breast just as Ingrid’s lips wrap around your clit. Mapi pulls your head into her lap and you feel her cock press right up against your lips. 

“No instructions for me here, so I’ll help you there amor,” Mapi pulls a sharpie out from the sheets and tilts your head to the side. She carefully writes “for sucking,” right on your cheek. The cold ink and familiar scent only makes your head so much more fuzzy, eyes blurry as Mapi throws the pen to the side and angles her hips to your mouth. 

She presses in just as Ingrid slips two fingers into your pussy. Your thighs thrash around a little, chest huffing as the air in your chest gets blocked by Mapi fucking your throat. 

Ingrid eats you out hungrily, fingers pushing in and out of you roughly. She glances up momentarily and she sees a flash of black when your neck pushes up. She pulls away, eyes narrowing as she licks her lips tasting you. 

“What does that one say?” Ingrid asks, shuffling up onto her knees. Her hand inside you pulls out and rubs circles over your clit, free hand wrapping around your neck as Mapi begins to pull her cock out of your mouth. 

“Choke me, Ingrid,” it says, in the finest letters. 

“Is that what you want, elskling?” she teases, bony fingers wrapping gently around your neck tighter. 

“You want me to choke you?” 

You’re nodding, lips puffy from how much you’ve been biting them. 

“I need words, pretty thing.”

“Yes Ingrid, I want you to choke me please!” you say, screaming a little. Ingrid pulls away completely as you settle against Mapi, her slightly soaked cock resting right between your shoulder blades. 

Ingrid pulls a little surprise out from under her pillow, graciously left there by Mapi. Your head pops up and you smile deliriously, desperately blinking away tears to see the toy Ingrid was holding. 

Double ended dildo’s weren’t all that common in your household but this one? This one was on everyone’s wishlist for a while now. 

“Wanna fuck you with this so bad,” Ingrid begins, before turning her attention towards Mapi, who was starting to feel a little left out. 

“But I also want to take Mapi’s cock like a good girl.” 

“We can do both, princesa.” 

Ingrid’s eyes seem to widen at the thought but she soon becomes eager and almost reeling with excitement. Scrambling to get between your legs, Mapi bends over and begins to kiss you, hands grabbing your cheeks tightly. You’re unsure of where to focus on, the feeling of Mapi’s hands so close to your neck while Ingrid lubes up one end of the toy and is starting to push it into you all becomes deliciously overwhelming. 

You feel your cunt give in to one side of the toy, the tip resting nicely against your sweet spot. Ingrid grabbed a hold of it and gently rocked it into you, your hand grabbing Mapi’s hand that slowly crept towards your neck. 

“Is this what you wanted, amor?” Mapi teased, fingers pressing right up against your windpipe. 

“Sì,” you croaked, air slowly leaving your system. Just as you were getting a little light headed, Mapi pulled away. Words to argue began to leave your lips when a weight added itself onto your thighs. 

There Ingrid sat, penetrated by the other end of the toy. She grinned from ear to ear, hips gently rocking themselves on top of you. Mapi watched Ingrid eagerly before stepping off the bed. Ingrid pulled your hands to rest on her hips, fingers immediately grabbing them to guide her. 

“Fuck, that feels so good baby,” praises Ingrid, hands grasping your breasts for stability. She was using you for her own pleasure, like a mirror or book for a suction dildo. She rode you hard, feeling the toy rock steadily with each canter of her hips. She was an expert, watching her hips move in ways you didn’t know possible. 

As you were enjoying the gorgeous sight in front of you, Mapi had climbed in behind Ingrid and looked over her shoulder. Her tattooed hands reached around and caressed Ingrid’s breasts, you watched as Ingrid melted into your other lover's arms, hips never slowing down for a second. 

“Does she feel good, princesa?” Mapi asks, hands gliding over Ingrid’s flawless skin. They stop right above her cunt, a finger reeling out to circle around her neglected clit. Ingrid slows down just a little, taking in the feeling of Mapi finally touching her. 

“Ja,” Ingrid gasps, “she feels so good.” 

The cap of the lube clicks and you’re frustrated you can’t see all that was going on behind Ingrid. You watch as Mapi whispers into Ingrid’s ear and she speeds up on top of you, bouncing on the toy more to get it to stimulate both of you.  

The frustration adds to the pleasure, almost like they were ignoring you as though you weren’t in the room with them. As though you weren’t being fucked by Ingrid. 

“She’s so pretty on top, isn’t she amor?” Mapi asks you and you break out of your daydream, nodding hard when Ingrid leans over and begins to suck on your breast. Mapi comes into view and you swear you could die happy, right in this moment. 

She’s got three fingers inside Ingrid’s ass, muscles straining as she takes her time opening up your girlfriend. Ingrid, the slut she was being, rolls her hips back onto Mapi’s fingers, pussy stretched tight around the toy. As she rocked them forwards, you felt it press your sweet spot and you gasp, pulling a devious grin on Ingrid’s face.

She begins to ride hard, feeling her pussy swallow up the toy as her ass took another one of Mapi’s fingers.  

“If only you could see how pretty she looks like this amor, you’d be as crazy about it as I am.”

“She’s taking it so well, hm?” 

“She’s perfect, aren’t you Ingrid?” Mapi whispers as Ingrid sits back up. Ingrid nods deliriously, a tired smile pulled on her face. 

“So perfect,” the Norwegian whispers, whining when Mapi pulls her fingers out. Mapi hands you the lube and you stroke her cock wetly, Ingrid’s hips cheekily grinding down on you. 

Mapi settles in behind Ingrid and your thumbs rub her hip bones as Mapi slips into her ass. You watch Ingrid’s eyes close shut and you lean up to kiss her. She kisses back desperately, hands cradling your head. 

The thing with this setup was, with every thrust of Mapi’s hips, it drove the toy inside you and Ingrid deep. You were sure you could feel it in your guts, but you saw it in Ingrid’s guts. Mapi felt it. Her hand was pressed right over the spot it bulged out from and her eyes go dark with every powerful fuck of her hips. 

She speeds up, the sounds of all your moans meld into a single harmony. Ingrid becomes boneless as the pleasure fills her body, and Mapi pulls out for just a second as you sit up against the backboard.. The toy fucks deeper into you and Ingrid as you hold her in your lap. Mapi slips back into Ingrid and she screams, feeling both of you fuck her. 

“Fuck!” Ingrid screams, “I’m gonna cum!” 

“Me too!” you gasp, kissing Ingrid hard. She kisses back and pulls away, hands wrapping around your neck. Your head thuds against the wood, hands grabbing her waist tighter. She fucks herself and you with the toy harder, feeling Mapi’s hips also alternate into her at the same pace. 

Ingrid goes stiff when she comes, falling back into Mapi. Your eyes roll into your head when the high hits, and Ingrid releases the pressure around your neck at the perfect moment to boost your pleasure. 

Mapi kisses Ingrid’s shoulder softly as she gets everyone untangled. You take deep breaths when Ingrid tries to climb into your skin, legs tangling right into yours. 

She lets Mapi clean her but insists on wiping you down. She’s gentle as she scrubs the ink off your skin, kissing each spot you wrote on. 

“Can we try this on me next?” she asks quietly, playing with your hair. Mapi nods behind her, caressing Ingrid’s thigh under the sheets. 

“I’ve bought more sharpies especially for you, my love.” you whisper, thanking the algorithm gods for sending you that video.

[moonchild9350]

Well That Was Fun

Summary: Felix finally gets a much needed day off and plans to build his new PC alone. What he gets is much better instead...you.

Pairing: idol Felix x fem. reader

Genre: fluff, smut- This is a 18+ fic sooo MDNI

Word count: 4081

Warnings: cursing, oral sex male and female receiving, soft dom Felix, dirty talk, p in v penetration, creampie (wrap it up folks). I think thats it...

Note: Felix has been plaguing my mind recently lol. I had to write something about mr. sunshine! I hope you enjoy. Reblogs and comments are greatly appreciated. Let me know what you think!

This is in no way how Felix is in reality. This is solely for fun.

Please do not copy, translate, modify, use, or repost this work elsewhere without my permission. ©moonchild9350 (2024)

Tomorrow is Felix’s day off.  He had been busier than usual lately due to extra photoshoots and events that he had to attend on top of his usual company activities.  But the company finally allowed him a day off and you were ecstatic.  You had requested that day off right away when he told you after coming home late one day, hoping to spend some time with your boyfriend, not sure yet what you guys will do, but that could wait for a little.  However, you didn’t tell him that you were approved to be off that day wanting to surprise him.  

Felix was happy to finally have a day off.  He had been feeling really run down and tired and just needed a day of rest, being home, wearing comfortable clothes, not having to worry about schedules and calls, and of course being able to finally spend some time with you.  He was also excited because he would be able to finally build his new PC that he ordered a while back and never got to build due to work.  Felix had a full day today, with last minute run-throughs of their routines for an upcoming award show.  The boys were taking a much needed 30 minute break.  

Felix walked over to Jeongin who was sitting on the couch with his legs propped up on Seungmin.  “Guess what?” he asked Jeongin.  “Since I have tomorrow off, I’m finally going to be able to build my new PC.” 

Jeongin’s face lit up.  “Really? Finally! That box has been sitting in the common room for ages.! I can’t wait until you finish it.  You’ll have to let me play a session on it when it’s finished.”

Felix nodded and agreed to the maknae’s demands.  Jeongin then asked, “Since you have the day off, will y/n be over?”

Felix considered this and replied, “I don’t think so.  I believe she told me she had to work.  She’s going to come over after work though.”  Felix did tell you about his day off.  He was a little sad you wouldn’t be able to spend the whole day with him, but he understood.  You did have bills to pay after all, even though he has offered to help. 

Jeongin nodded.  “Aww that sucks hyung.  I’m sure she wishes she could be there all day, but at least she’ll be over later.”

“True” Felix replied.  Their conversation then came to a halt as the dance instructor walked back into the room, signaling break time was over and it was time to resume practice.

*************************************************************

The next morning, you awoke bright and early, excited to surprise your boyfriend.  You planned on bringing him his favorite tea and a pastry for a little breakfast in bed.  You got up and went to shower.  After you pulled on some leggings, a t- shirt, and your favorite sweatshirt, put on some light makeup, grabbed your bag and you were out the door.  Stopping at the cafe, you got an iced americano and a bagel for yourself and an iced matcha tea latte and chocolate croissant for Felix.  Sipping your iced americano, you made your way towards the boys dorm.  Once you arrived, you knocked on the door and Minho answered.

“Morning y/n, I’m surprised you’re here so early.  Felix told us he thought you weren’t going to be here until after your shift.”  Minho greeted you at the door, with a toothbrush in his hand.  It seemed like he was getting ready to go to the building.  

“Morning and I got the day off! I thought I would surprise Felix.  Seems like it worked,” you chuckled.  “I brought some breakfast for him too,” you responded excitedly, bouncing on your toes.  Minho giggled at your excitement and moved to let you in.  

“I think he’s still asleep, but you know your way around so I’ll leave you to it.  I have to finish getting ready anyway.” 

You giggled back and said, “Ok! Thanks Minho.  Have a great day at practice,” and made your way to Felix’s room.  

You quietly opened his door and found him sprawled out in his bed buried under the covers.  He was snoring quietly and snuggling his penguin squishy.  You couldn’t help but smile at the peaceful look on his face, happy that he could finally rest.  You tiptoed over to his bed to put the iced matcha tea latte and chocolate croissant on the bedside table.  Carefully you crawled under the covers and wrapped your arms around Felix’s waist.  For a moment, you looked at his sleeping face.  You lightly brushed your fingers over his freckles which you loved.  Felix grumbled slightly at this and peeked his eyes open.  When he realized who it was, he dropped the penguin squishy and wrapped his arms around you to snuggle you into your body.  

“Baby?” Felix mumbled, deep voice heavy with sleep.  He pulled you even closer and dropped his head into your neck.  He placed a wet kiss behind your ear.  You smiled and ran your fingers through his long blond hair and kissed his nose.  

“Good morning baby,” you replied.  You then proceeded to place kisses all over his face, making sure to place extra kisses over his freckles.  Felix laughed and scrunched up his face at your actions. 

“I have a surprise for you Lixie!” 

“What is it babe?” asked Felix.  He loved your little surprises as you would get really excited and you would get this glimmer in your eyes.  Sometimes, like today, he knew what the surprise was but he played along since you were so happy.

“I brought you breakfast, an iced matcha tea latte and a chocolate croissant, your favorite!” 

Felix’s eyes fully opened at your statement, “Really? Ugh you’re the best girlfriend.”  

You both sat up and you grabbed his food and drink and handed it to him.  Felix graciously accepted the food and drink and started eating right away.  “This is amazing, thank you so much baby.” 

“You’re welcome,” you giggled and brushed some crumbs off his face.  After finishing his food, he pulled you in close and wrapped his arm around your waist.  You laid your head on his shoulder and asked what he wanted to do today.  

“I was thinking how about we stay in today?  My new PC came in weeks ago and so I was thinking about building it.  Would you like to help me build it?”

“Of course Lixie!” You would accept any of his ideas as long as you were together.  Felix squeezed your hip, gave you a peck on your head, and got up to go get ready for the day.  You lounged in his bed, snuggling under the warm covers.  You were scrolling on your phone when Felix came out of the bathroom.  

“Ready?” he asked as he pulled the boxes out of his closet. He was able to drag them in his room last night with the help of Minho hyung.

 “Let’s do this!” you said.  

You both sat on the floor as there was more space and started opening boxes, pulling out parts for the computer.  Felix played some Lofi on his speakers.  You both worked diligently.  You updated Felix on the drama that has been happening at work.  One of your coworker’s boyfriend came to work during her shift, begging for her to take him back.  You explained how your coworker denied her exe’s advances and eventually started yelling at the ex.  Afterwards, once the ex boyfriend left, with the help of the manager, she told you he was dick and a cheater and wouldn’t be caught dead with him again.  Felix listened intently and hummed as you talked, agreeing in the end with your coworker’s decision.  Felix updated you about his work and how they were preparing for an award show they would be attending at the end of the month.  

“We’re going to Japan for the show.  It’ll be fun and I’m happy we’re getting an award and getting to perform, but I'll miss you since I’ll be gone for a long time.” 

“Aww baby,” you replied, “I’ll miss you too! We’ll video message every day, don’t worry.”  

Felix hummed in agreement.  He looked at his phone to check the time and realized it was already late in the afternoon.

“Are you getting hungry?” Felix asked.

“Yeah, a little,” you responded.  “Can we get takeout?” 

“Of course, order whatever you want on my phone.  We’ll have it delivered.”

You picked up Felix’s phone, opened the delivery app, and selected a few items.  You both decided on fried chicken and tteokbokki.  As you waited on the food, you and Felix continued to work on the PC.  At this point, it was a little more than halfway done.  Felix was getting excited the closer he was to finishing the PC.  You chuckled at this, he looked so happy, and that made you happy.  

Once the food arrived, you grabbed plates and a few drinks from the refrigerator and walked back to Felix’s room.  You plated the food while Felix was picking out a show for you to watch while you ate.  There was comfortable silence as you ate, enjoying each other’s company and the food.  Once both of you were finished, you cleared the dishes.  When you came back, you sat back down on the floor with Felix to help him finish the PC.  

It didn’t take too much longer to finish the build and once you were done, you both sat back to admire your work.  “It looks great,” you said.

“It does huh? Good work team.” At that Felix turned and lifted his hand up for a high five.  You giggled at his cheesiness and gave him a high five back.  Felix smiled and then took his hand to grasp your face.  He looked into your eyes.  You could feel the love and gratitude radiating from him. 

“How did I get so lucky?” He whispered in his deep voice.  You saw his eyes flick down to your lips.  You couldn’t help yourself and caught yourself looking at his lips also.  Felix learned forward slowly to catch his lips on yours.  His soft lips touched yours and you sighed into the kiss, moving to sit in his lap and wrap your arms around his neck.  At this, Felix placed his hands on your waist to rub gentle circles on your skin. You sat there for a little, gently kissing Felix.  Moments passed and the kiss became urgent as you felt Felix swipe his tongue along your bottom lip seeking entrance. You granted him entrance with a moan.  With each passing second, the kiss got deeper.  You leaned back slightly to catch your breath, a trail of spit connecting you still to Felix’s lips.  You moved to straddle his hips and leaned your head against his and took a shaky breath.  

You leaned in once more to connect your lips with Felix’s. “Y/n,” Felix murmured against your lips.  You felt turned on with your little makeout session and felt your arousal leaking into your panties.  At this you squeezed your thighs together slightly to get a little friction.  Felix noticed this in between kisses and took a tighter hold on your hips and rolled them against his growing bulge.  You moaned with the movement as his covered cock caught your clit just right through your leggings.  

“Do that again Lixie,” you whispered on his lips.   You built up a rhythm, rocking your hips over Felix’s dick, gaining that sweet friction you needed on your clit.   Felix’s hands stayed on your waist, helping your movements.  With each rock, he groaned into your mouth, “It feels so good baby.”  Between your lips on his and your frantic movements over his clothed dick, he was getting closer to his release.

“Keep rocking baby,” he whispered on your lips.  “You can do it baby, you’re so close, I can tell.”

You whimpered at his words and sped up your movements.  Between the friction over your clit and Felix whispering praise in your ear, you felt yourself get closer to that sweet release you needed.  The pressure was quickly building up in your belly.

“Yes darling, yes. Be a good girl and cum for me.  Can you do that baby? Go on, let go, I’m right here.”  Those last few words were what you needed to cum.  

You whimpered Felix’s name over and over as your first orgasm of the night spread throughout your body, making your toes curl. You could feel your arousal seeping out in pooling in your panties, some getting on your thighs as you gave a last few thrusts of your hips along Felix’s clothed cock.   

Felix rubbed your back whispering “well done my love.” 

Your head fell down in the crook of Felix’s neck, breathing heavy as you came down from your high.  Felix kissed the top of your head and whispered how much he loved you over and over.  

Once you recovered, you looked into Felix’s eyes and reached down to rub his cock through his sweatpants. Felix groaned out as you continued to rub his bulge.  You reached into his sweatpants to pull his cock out.  It was on the longer side, not as girthy, but still the most beautiful cock you’ve ever seen.  His tip was red and angry looking with drops of pre-cum dripping from the slit.  You wrapped your hand around his shaft and gave a few gentle strokes, gathering the pre-cum that was leaking out to give more lubrication.  

“Fu..fuck baby,” Felix moaned out as you quickend your movements. You scooted down and brought your head down to his cock and gave one long lick up his shaft.  You then started suckling the tip,  licking up the pre-cum that was steadily leaking down his shaft.  You suckled the tip for a while, one hand stroking up and down his shaft, the other fondling his heavy balls. 

Felix’s eyes rolled to the back of his head with your movements. 

“Ohhh shit baby, I love your mouth, taking me so well baby.  Keep sucking, that’s it,”

 He slightly jerked his hips up, head kicked back in pleasure.  He looked down at you.  This was his favorite sight to see; you with his cock in your mouth.  His perfect baby, treating him so well. 

Felix started thrusting his hips, fucking your mouth.  With a particular thrust of his hips, his cock reached the back of your throat, causing you to gag.  You loosened your jaw and breathed through your nose to further take him.  

You loved when Felix would use your mouth like this, causing spit to dribble down your chin and tears to leak from your eyes.  You continued to suck his cock and seeing Felix’s legs tense up, you knew he was close.  

Felix couldn’t hold back anymore.  He grabbed your hair and pushed your head down as he came down your throat, loudly moaning your name.  You took it like the good girl you were, swallowing his cum once he was done.  He lifted your head up and wiped at the smudges of tears that were left on your face.  

“You’re absolutely perfect, my perfect girl,” Felix said as he gave you a kiss.  You hummed against his lips at his praise.   

“Let’s get a little more comfortable.  Let me take you to bed baby, ok?” Felix said.

You nodded your head ok and let Felix scoop you up from his lap.  He brought you to his bed and carefully laid you down.  Felix then took off his shirt and tossed it on the floor.  He climbed onto the bed to hover over you, pressing his lips to yours for a heated kiss.  

“Can I take this off of you baby?” Felix asked tugging on your sweatshirt.  You nodded yes and sat up slightly so Felix could pull your sweatshirt over your head.  He tossed the article of clothing onto the floor. You shivered slightly from the sudden exposure, but quickly warmed up as Felix leaned into you again to capture your lips with his. 

Felix took his hand and placed it on your breast, giving it a light squeeze.  You gasped at the sensation, your breasts being really sensitive.  He let go of your lips and placed wet kisses down your jaw, traveling to your neck.  He stopped to suckle and bite your skin where your neck meets your shoulder.  The pleasure you were feeling from Felix had you gasping and moaning as he continued to squeeze and roll your nipple with his fingers.  You then felt him bite down on your neck.  You gasped out at the sensation, feeling both pain and pleasure.  

Felix continued kissing his way down your body, stopping at your breasts.  Taking a nipple into his mouth, he began to suck, rolling the sensitive bud with his tongue.  He took his other hand and pinched your other nipple causing you to arch your back and release a loud moan.

“Lixie, please…Li..Lixie, I need you,” you whimpered as he continued to give attention to your breasts.  

He released your nipple with a pop and looked up at you.  “Where do you need me sweetheart?” 

You looked down at his face, smeared with his spit from sucking on your breast, and whimpered, “I need…I need your tongue Lixie.” 

“My baby needs my tongue,” he said, “Where do you want my tongue baby?”

You covered your face with your hands, not wanting to outright say it.  “No, no sweetheart,” Felix said as he pulled your hands down.  “Let me see your face as you tell me where you want my tongue.”

I…I want your tongue on my pussy Lixie.  Please? I’ve been a good girl,” you whimpered, giving Felix a pout.

Felix considered this and then chuckled saying,  “My baby has been good so I’ll let you have my tongue baby.”  

Felix reached down to remove your leggings and panties.  He then kissed the valley between your breasts, making his way down your body, kissing your tummy, your thighs, everywhere but where you wanted him most.  You squiremed under his touch as he was close to your core.  You could feel his breath as he kissed your thighs .  

Felix looked up at you one last time before licking a long strip from your entrance up to your clit.  You groaned loudly at the sensation, happy to have Felix where you wanted him.  He gave another lick before attaching his mouth to your clit and sucking the bud.  Your hands made their way to grip his blond hair as you began to rock your hips into his face.  Felix grasped your thighs to hold them closer to his face as he continued to lick, nip, and suck at your clit, licking up the arousal that was dribbling out of your pussy.  

All that was heard was your loud moans, and whimpers of Felix’s name and the occasional groan from Felix.  All too soon, you felt that pressure build up yet again, threatening to give way to your second orgasm of the night.  

“I’m, I’m close. I’m go-gonna cum. Oh my god I’m gonna cum. Don’t stop Lix,” you moaned out.  Felix did just that, he dug his face further into your pussy, smothering his face with your arousal.  You frantically rode Felix’s face and without warning, you felt the band in your belly contract as your release gushed out of you onto Felix’s face.  Felix continued his ministrations as you rode out your high, never slowing down.  Once you came down from your high, it became a little too much so you pushed at Felix’s head to get him to stop.  Felix let go of your thighs and lifted his head.  

“Hmmmm you taste so good sweetheart.”  Felix was licking all of your arousal off of lips.  

“Do you want a taste baby?”  You nodded your head and Felix leaned down to kiss you, tasting yourself on his lips. 

When Felix broke away from the kiss, he scooted closer to you to spread your legs wider for him to have better access.  You gripped your legs behind your knees to keep them open.

“Are you ready sweetheart?” He dragged his cock through your folds collecting your arousal.  You nodded your head, “Yes Lixie, please give me your cock.  I wanna be full of you.”

Felix grinned saying, “my baby gets what my baby wants.”  He pushed the tip in slowly, and then pulled it back out.  He repeated that motion again and again, fucking you with just the tip.  You felt good, but you needed more.  

“More, more, please give me your cock baby,” you whined.  Felix pushed the tip in once more, pulled out and then slid all the way in to the hilt.  You moaned with the stretch, more than ready to accommodate his cock in your aching pussy. More arousal pooled out of you, dripping down your cunt and down your ass.  Felix pushed in again, this time with more force.  He set a steady motion, his strokes fluid and deep, hitting those spots he knew you loved.  The sound of his balls slapping your ass with each thrust, your wet pussy, and loud moans were the only thing to be heard in the room.  You were drowning in pleasure as his cock filled you up, stretched you out just how you like it.  

Felix could feel you clenching around his cock, he knew you were close.  He pushed your legs further up your chest and threw them up around his shoulders, the new angle reaching deeper to help get you there.  

“Is my baby about to cum hmm? Are you gonna cum on my cock baby?”

You were barely able to make a coherent sentence lost in the bliss of Felix’s cock pounding into you.  Eventually you were able to mumble out ‘yes please.”  Felix grinned at your mumbling.  

“Whose cock is making you feel like this baby? Whose?” he asked.

“Yours, your cock baby, Lix’s cock.  Please let me cum, please, please, please!” You were so close and with Felix pounding deep into you, you knew it would be a matter of time before you would cum.  

“Such a good girl for me, hmm.  Letting me ruin this pussy.” Felix brought his finger down to your clit and rubbed it in circles.  “Will you cum with me sweetheart? Let me fill you up?”

“Yes please fill me up baby, I’m, I’m close.” A few thrusts later, you felt the band in your tummy release one last time.  It spread throughout your body, your vision going white from the pleasure, and legs spasming.  You screamed out Felix’s name, moaning through the aftershocks. 

Felix felt you cunt spasm around his cock. He felt his release building, building, and with a hard, deep thrust, he came, moaning out “yes, yes, yes, my baby, filling you up just like I said.”  Ropes of thick, hot, cum shot out painting the walls of your white.  Felix rocked his hips into yours a few more times before collapsing on top of you.  You cradled his head into your chest, both of you coming down from your highs.  

Felix lifted his head up and gave you a kiss, savoring the taste of you.  “I love you baby.”

“I love you too,” you replied. Stroking his hair with a smile on your face.

Felix then slowly pulled out, both of you hissing from overstimulation.  He watched the mix of your arousal and his cum seep out of your pussy onto the bed sheets.  He had never seen a more pretty sight.  

“Let me get a towel baby, I’ll be right back.”  Felix slipped on his boxers and sweatpants and then made his way to the bathroom where he got a wet towel to wipe you down.  He came back and began wiping you down, softly and gently.  Once he was done, he found an extra shirt of his and gave it to you to put on.  You thanked him for the shirt, put it on, and laid back in bed.  Felix joined you, wrapping you in his arms.  

“Well that was fun.” He said.  You looked up at your boyfriend with an incredulous look.  “Did you really just say that?” You asked, laughing.  He laughed,  squeezed you tighter, and with a wink said, “ Well it was fun.  I’d say it was much more fun than building that PC.”  

You couldn’t agree more. 

[mountsmase]

a/n: surprise 🤭 this was never meant to see the light of day but I found this in my drafts and thought I might as turn it a little Christmassy and post it 😌 It’s unedited and definitely not my best but i hope you enjoy 🩷 feedback is appreciated as always 🫶🏻

word count: 2.1k

genre: Smut

———————

Peppermint Kisses - MM7

Today is what you’d call a ‘perfect day’.

You and Mase spent the morning at the Christmas tree farm, wandering around for what felt like hours before finally settling on the perfect tree. As soon as you got home, you got in into place and started decorating, your Christmas playlist playing through the speakers as you sorted through a variety of boxes containing everything from baubles to tinsel.

Now, a home cooked dinner and a shared shower later, you’re tangled up on the couch admiring your masterpiece.

‘Home Alone’ plays on the TV, your favourite candle flickers away and two half empty mugs of peppermint hot chocolate sit on the coffee table. But, you’re not paying much attention to the movie.

His touches started out innocent, his hands sliding under your (his) t-shirt to trace patterns over your back whilst his other rests on your leg, thumbs rubbing soothing circles into your PJ clad thigh. But, you soon get the idea that he’s not too keen on keeping it innocent, his hand sliding a little higher and grip tightening as his other moves to your waist.

You’d already given each other an orgasm in the shower, and you knew it wouldn't be long until he wanted to give you your second. To be honest, you’re surprised you lasted this long without jumping his bones again. He’d been teasing you all day, touching you and leaving lingering kisses on your skin whenever he could, and by the time you got home, you were all over each other. It’s a miracle you even made it through dinner.

Tilting your head up, your stomach somersaults when you meet his dark eyes, the chocolatey orbs swirling with desperation. You only hold his gaze for a brief moment before you’re leaning in to kiss him. He kisses you back with a certain tenderness, his hand coming up to hold the back of your neck, thumb brushing over your jaw whilst yours cups his stubbled cheek.

He parts your lips for him, taking a little more control of the kiss, and you hum into his mouth, the taste of peppermint still lingering on his tongue when he slips it inside. You battle for dominance, but he wins easily when he slides his hand under your top, cupping your braless boob and you gasp when his thumb brushes over your nipple.

He pays them attention for a while longer, hands kneading your skin whilst he brushes his thumb over your nipple, occasionally pinching the buds between his thumb and finger, knowing that always drives your mad.

Shuffling around a little, you climb onto his lap, straddling his thighs as his lips leave yours, instead trailing kisses across your jaw and cheek. He continues down to your neck and you shiver against him, his beard scratching over your sensitive skin and sending jolts of pleasure straight down your spine.

Travelling south, his hand leaves your boobs, fingertips dancing over your tummy as he sucks lightly at your sweet spot, teeth grazing over your skin before soothing the area with his tongue. His fingers fiddle with the waist band of your PJs before slipping underneath, and he smiles to himself when he feels your panties already soaked for him.

“Is this all for me?” He hums, meeting your gaze.

You nod, letting out a desperate whimper when his warm hand cups your centre over your panties, thumb rubbing a single circle onto your clit.

“Need to use your words, baby”

“Yes, Mase” You breath, and he bites back a moan when you rock your hips into his hand.

“Please, stop teasing”

“You gonna let me make you feel good?” He rasps, your breath hitching at the tone of his voice.

“Yeah, n-need you, pl-please” You nod, grinding into him once more to get your point across.

“Good girl, jump up for me” he murmurs, your heart hammering at the praise and he pulls his hand away from you, giving your hips a tap.

You do as he asks, climbing off his lap before standing in front of him and he follows suit.

“I’ll be back in one second” He tells you, brushing a kiss to your cheek and you watch as he disappears into the kitchen, leaving you confused in the middle of the living room, but you soon put two and two together when you hear him opening and closing the draws, returning a few moments later with a little foil packet between his fingers.

He throws it onto the couch, turning back to you and helping you pull off your t-shirt. Next to come off is your PJ bottoms, his fingers nimbly working to untie the strings before pulling them down your legs, your panties going with them.

“Off” You tug at his own t-shirt, not liking one bit that he still has clothes on.

He chuckles at your impatience, pulling it off before ridding himself of his joggers and boxers.

Sitting back down onto the sofa, he shuffles a few pillows around before relaxing back into the cushions and looking up at you with an expectant gaze.

You climb back onto his lap, melting into him when his lips meet yours again.

He blindly reaches to the side, taking the foil packet before tearing it open and pulling out the condom. Rolling it over his length, he pulls back and meets your gaze.

“Ready, angel?” He asks and you give him a reassuring nod. Your heart soaring at the way he still always stops and makes sure, even after so long together.

“Yes, yeah, need to feel you” you whine, voice catching in your throat when he wraps an arm around your waist.

He takes his length in his hand, giving it a few strokes before lining it up with your entrance and you whimper, not sure you can wait any longer when he taps the head against your clit a couple of times.

Holding your hip, he guides you down slowly, letting you take it at your own pace as you adjust to him. He swallows your soft moans, his arm tightening around your waist when he feels himself buried to the hilt inside of you. It takes every ounce of self restraint he has not to buck into you, not wanting to rush you and letting you to take this at your own pace.

You give yourself a few moments to adjust, one of your hands instinctively tangling in his hair and you enjoy the feeling of fullness as he continues working his lips over yours. The kisses aren’t rushed or desperate, but perfectly soft, and you feel yourself sinking into him when his hand cups your jaw, thumb gliding over the apple of your cheek.

Your legs are already feeling like jelly, but you can’t bring yourself to care, pleasure shooting through you when you start to lazily rock over him.

“Fuck y/n, so tight baby, feels so fucking good” he moans out, leaning his head back to look up at you and you revel in the sounds leaving his lips, a deep blush covering your cheeks knowing how good you can make him feel.

You’re so warm and tight around him and he thinks he might be in heaven as he gazes up at you. The lights from the Christmas tree are casting a golden glow over your skin and he swears he’s never seen anything so beautiful. Your hair is a little messy, your cheeks flushed and lips parted and you’ve got a slight bruise forming on your neck from where he got a little carried away earlier. He can’t help but lean forward, pressing his lips back to the same spot to soothe the tender skin.

“Masey, oh my- fuck” you whimper on top of him,

“Feel good, baby?”

You can only nod, lifting your hips and raising off of him until only his tip is inside of you before sinking back down and you cry out his name when he bucks his hips up into yours.

“Relax, bubba,” he murmurs, noticing your movements becoming a bit frantic as you search for your high.

His hands land on your hips, slowing your movements before lifting you off of him completely. You whine at the sudden feeling of emptiness, a pout taking over your lips as you send him a questioning gaze.

“Mase, what’re you-“

“Shh, I’ve got you angel” he reassures you and he silences any further questions when he gently rolls you onto your back, settling you into the blanket as he hovers over you.

Hooking your legs over his waist he lines himself up with your entrance, resting his forehead against yours and meeting your gaze when he pushes back into you.

He keeps his thrusts slow but deep, setting a steady pace and when he sees your hands grabbing aimlessly at the cushions, he takes them in his. He links his fingers with yours, holding one hand above your head and he guides your other to the back of his neck, your fingers instinctively tugging on his hair and he groans above you, hips faltering slightly when you clench around him.

“Fuck, I love you” he pants out, hot breath fanning over your cheek.

“I love you too, so much” you echo, voice raspy and shaky as he rocks into you.

The new angle has you seeing stars, his tip brushing that soft spot inside of you with every rock of his hips and when you throw your head back, he takes the opportunity to latch his lips onto your neck again, licking and sucking over the exposed skin.

His name leaves your lips over and over as he pounds into you, pleasure overcoming your whole entire body until all you can think about is him.

“Mason, feels so good, I’m so close” you sob, pulling his head out of your neck so that you can look at him.

His chocolatey brown eyes lock onto yours and you take him in. The skin on the bridge of his nose is flushed, his hair slightly messy and flopping over his forehead so you brush it back with your fingers, your heart fluttering at the look of pure want and adoration in his eyes.

“Yeah? Gonna cum for me baby?” He coos, reaching down in between your bodies and your hips buck into his when he flicks his thumb over your clit.

You nod frantically and his hips falter slightly when he feels his own orgasm fast approaching.

“Want you to come with me. Please Mase” You whisper against his lips, and he speeds up his movements again, working you both towards your highs.

“I’m right there with you, let go for me angel” his voice is husky and it’s all you need to go falling over the edge, your orgasm washing over you whilst he continues rubbing circles over your clit, working you through your high.

He buries himself to the hilt inside of you, and it’s the feeling of your walls fluttering around him that sends him over the edge, his own high hitting him before he pulls out and slumps on top of you.

You lay there for a few minutes, taking a moment to compose yourselves and enjoy the weight of his body on top of yours. Your heartbeats slowly return to normal, breathing calming down as he lays limp on top of you, well and truly spent.

He makes an effort to move away but you tighten your hold around his shoulders, not wanting him to move quite yet.

“5 more minutes” you say, sleepily nuzzling into him and he chuckles into your skin, accepting defeat but quite content to just lay with you for a while.

He brushes his fingertips up your sides, tracing random patterns into your skin and giving you all the time you need but soon 5 minutes turns to 20 and he knows if he doesn’t get you up now, you’ll be here all night.

“How about another shower?” He suggests and you jump slightly at the sound of his voice.

You groan in protest, feeling exhausted and wanting nothing more than to climb straight into bed with him and fall asleep.

“Gotta get you cleaned up bubba, we’ll be quick I promise” he speaks softly, not wanting to disturb the peacefulness of the moment.

He lifts himself off of you when you eventually loosen your hold on him, pressing a kiss to your forehead before standing off the couch and you pout up at him, already missing his weight and warmth.

He sends you the softest smile, switching off the TV before holding his hand out for you to take.

“You’re gonna need to carry me” You state simply, holding your arms out and he shakes his head at you jokingly before scooping you up, more than happy to comply with your request.

———————

a/n: this turned out being way longer than I thought it would be 🫣 I hope you enjoyed 🫶🏻🩷

[live-laugh-lenney]

S I C K A R T H U R H E A D C A N N O N | A R T H U R T V |

** author note before you read; mentions of sickness, throwing up, and brief talks of drugs in the form of paracetamol **

-> yn knows. -> she just knows. -> arthur is very rarely ill, and yn envies that about him, so it knocks him for six when he comes down with any form of an illness and it's not difficult to see a change in his behaviour. -> and it goes both ways.

-> if a cold hits him hard, or the flu really knocks him down, he can barely stay awake. -> if he had any plans with his friends then she would send them a text to inform them that arthur probably wouldn't be able to attend whatever they had planned - whether it be filming for a new video, a podcast, or just meeting for lunch... -> 'georgey, arthur's pretty ill and i'm not waking him up to tell him he's gonna be late for you. just letting you know he probs won't be able to film with you today. sending apologies on his behalf. xx' -> 'Bless his cotton socks. hopefully this teaches him not to wear shorts and a t-shirt during a ChrisMD shoot in these current baltic conditions. But give him some smooches and cuddles from me. x' -> 'fancy coming over to look after him instead? i'm sure you fancy him more than i do... it's okay though. fess up and we can clear the air, clarkey. xx' -> when he does wake up, he doesn't even question the time. all he can think about is how rough he feels. -> he's alone in the bedroom. his phone is on his bedside table. and his alarm had clearly been turned off - which, really, he was thankful for because he definitely would have felt worse - and there's a glass of water with two tablets beside it. -> he knows that she knows he's ill. -> he wraps himself up warm; makes sure to put some warm socks on his feet, puts on a hoodie and pulls the hood over his head, he grabs the blanket from the bed to wrap around his shoulders and slowly walks into the living room. -> and she's decorated the living room for a cosy day spent inside; candles are lit and emitting smells he wish he could smell through his blocked nose, the tv has netflix launched up and ready for them to choose something to watch, the curtains are drawn closed and the sofa is turned into somewhere for them to lay on with everything (from chocolates and biscuits to bits of fruit to paracetamol and cold and flu tablets) on the coffee table and in arms reach. -> and they spend all day on the sofa. -> film after film after film, a nap in the mid-afternoon, watching tik-tok and showing each other silly videos they stumble upon and she enjoys having him to herself for the day and not sharing him with their friends and missing him due to his youtubing schedule. -> they order in take-away for a late dinner; a chinese because that's always their go-to meal when they can't be bothered to cook.

-> if its sickness that hits him then he really spends all day in their bed, closest to the bathroom, doing nothing but sleeping because his stomach is in knots. -> and she's there for everything that happens, even though he worries about her falling ill, instead of dealing with himself being so ill. -> "i don't want you to catch this-" -> "i'll be fine. if i catch it then you can look after me." -> "but it's horrible, lovie. i don't want you to have it." -> "i'm not going anywhere, arthur." -> "but-" -> "no buts, arthur. i'm choosing to look after you. i want to look after you. i'm staying out." -> she kneels behind him and she gives his hip or his knee a gentle rub every so often to let him know she's still there, sliding her hand round his middle and rubbing his belly in between retching and his skin is sweltering and he's sticky and warm. -> the only thing he can wear is boxer shorts because he feels hot and she's pretty thankful that the only thing she'd need to be washing is the bedsheets and dirty pants and no sick-covered pyjamas. -> she's rubbing his back as he throws up. -> she's wiping the sweat from his forehead with a damp flannel when he's done throwing up. -> she sits on the bathroom floor with him and lets him fall back against her once he tires himself out. ghostly white and covered in sweat. practically falling asleep from the moment his head his her shoulder and his face hid in her neck. -> he gets better through the day. drinking green tea and peppermint tea when he needed a drink, sipping on glasses of water, munching on dry toast and dry crackers and dry biscuits. -> she runs him a warm bath, sits with him to make sure he doesn't fall asleep and drop beneath the bath water, tells him silly stories that she has definitely told him before but he keeps asking for her to talk to him. -> and he sounds and looks drunk; slurring his words when he speaks, barely making sense to her, and his eyes are hooded and low and he has a tired smile on his lips. -> "jus' love listening to you talk, lovie. so soothing." -> "you're such a simp for me, huh?" -> "how can i not be? have you seen you?" -> "have you seen you? i should be the simp in this relationship." -> "m'so naked in front of you right now and you're not simping?" -> "i'm not looking, mister television." -> "i'd be looking at you, all the time, lovie." -> "you're just a little pervert, arthur. my little pervert."

-> she absolutely babies him when he finally comes to terms with the fact that he's sick. -> and he just lets her. -> usually, he doesn't like to be fussed over - he's always telling her that he's old enough to be able to do things himself and doesn't need other people doing things for him - but he doesn't have the energy to argue when he's ill. -> she's happy to look after him and he's happy that she's happy to look after him but, deep down, he just can't be bothered to argue with her. -> but he's appreciative of her. -> so appreciative. -> all the time, everything she does for him, he's so thankful.

[wjhik]

Hiii!! How are you? Can I ask for a jude request where both the reader and him go on Ridiculousness and it’s just all fluff and jokes, thanks anyway

Cuddles (Jude Bellingham)

Soft moonlight seeped through the curtains, casting a gentle glow over the room. The walls were adorned with pictures of cherished memories, and the bed is a cozy haven of warmth and comfort. I was scrolling through movie options to watch. I worked my ass off all morning to get all my uni work done, so I could enjoy my weekend, not needing to stress about having to get anything done. As I picked an M&M out of the package I heard the door open. I perked up and listened. I heard keys being dropped on the table and bags being put down. I heard footsteps moving towards the bedroom, where I was. The door swung open to reveal my beloved boyfriend.

“Hey, baby.” Jude says with a sigh. “Hi.” I smile at him. He rushed into the bathroom to settle himself.

Jude came out in a t-shirt and his boxers. “Hey.” He says, settling himself in bed, next to me. He laid his head on my chest and wrapped his arms around my waist. “How was your day?” I asked him. He always got clingy after a hard day. “It wasn’t bad. But I got cold, and wet.” The rainy season was hard for Jude. All he wanted to do was cuddle in bed with a warm cup of hot chocolate. “Yeah? I’m sorry, baby.” I comfort him, running my hands through his hair. I moved my hand to grab his under the blanket. Once contact was made, he immediately pulled away. “God, woman. Your hands are so cold. What the fuck?” He exclaims. “Why do you have to freeze my ass every night?” He whines. I don’t understand why he thinks it’s so cold. It’s really not. I only keep the thermostat at 16C. (that is really cold for me, but that’s what i keep my room at so wtv)

I playfully grabbed his face, enveloping him in my coldness. “AY! GET AWAY!!” He yells out. “You’re such a drama queen.” I giggled. “I’m not. You’re fucking insane.” He says, referencing my temperature preferences. I simply rolled my eyes at him.

“What are we doing tonight, girlfriend?” He says, poking my side. “You tell me, boyfriend.” I  replied, my eyes stuck to the T.V., struggling to find something interesting. “Well, I thought we could have some fun.” He whispered. “Stop being a horny teenager. Let’s watch Charlie And The Chocolate Factory.” I dismissed him. “You’re genuinely such a child.” He said.

“I never want to leave this bed.” I said, seemingly out of nowhere. Jude makes me feel so comfortable and safe. Nights like those were my favorite, because it was just me and him. No cameras. No media. No interviews. No judgment. Just a man and his girl. It was perfect.

“I second that. It's like a fort of coziness.” Jude replied. He held me in his chest tighter, and kissed the top of my head. He put his finger under my chin and made me look at him. I looked in his eyes, but instantly got nervous. I looked down, blushing to myself. He lets out a breathy laugh. He lifted my face once again, and kissed me. I felt all the butterflies that have ever been in my stomach all at once. 

I pulled away and kissed his nose. I propped myself up on one elbow, gazing up at Jude with a mischievous glint in my eye. “What’s going on in that brain of yours, huh?” Jude asks, seeing past my eyes. “You know, we could stay here forever. Build a tiny world of blankets and pillows, and never face the world outside.” I say, holding him tight. Jude flashes me a heartwarming smile that I will never get tired of. “I'm all for it. We'll need to hire a breakfast delivery service, though. Can't survive on cuddles alone.” Jude jokes. I rolled my eyes and asked, “Why do you have the humor of an 86-year-old grandpa that gets called ‘pop-pop’ by his grandkids?” I ask him. He gasps loudly and places his hand on his chest. “For your information, girls would die for this humor.” He huffs. “I am girls.” 

We shared a laugh, our fingers playing an intricate game of interlocking puzzles. My hand found its way to Jude's cheek, and I stroked it gently. “I love you so much. You don’t even get it.” I say. Jude quickly reciprocated by kissing me. He pulled away with a dramatic smooch to my head. “You do realize we've been in bed for hours, right?” I observed. “Hours? More like days, I think. Time ceases to exist in our cuddle kingdom.” Jude said. This guy is such a dork. “Please, stop. I think I’m going to be sick.” I said. “You love me.” Jude said, rolling his eyes. “You know I do.” 

We laid there in silence, savoring the tranquility of the night, enveloped in a cocoon of love and comfort. I lifted my head to plant a soft kiss on Jude's lips, and he responded with a gentle caress, our affection speaking volumes without the need for words. “I’m so sleepy.” I said, yawning into Jude’s chest. “I know, sweetie.” Jude twisted at an awkward angle to reach for the T.V. remote on his side table. He grabbed it and turned off the T.V., as well as flicking off his side lamp. He reached above me and turned mine off as well. He shimmied down slowly, trying not to disturb me. “Sleep, my love.” He whispered quietly, kissing my head.

“I love you, you know.” I say, dreamily as I doze off into a deep sleep. “I love you more.” Jude whispers, knowing I can’t hear him. Our embrace tightened, as if trying to fuse our souls together, seeking solace and strength in each other's arms. The world outside may be calling, but for now, in the safety of our love, time stands still, and the only reality that matters is the one we've created in the quiet sanctuary of our shared warmth.

Dm for Requests

Wattpad: Funkyfishfeet

[chubbycelebs]

The Factory of Fatties (Part 1)

It was a warm September morning with sun beaming down on the street where the opening of Mr Wonka's factory took place. The months before this moment were filled with excitement. Mr Wonka had released 5 golden tickets within his Wonka chocolate bars and whoever found these tickets got a free tour of his factory where even more sweet confections were made. There was so much excitement to see who the winners of this prize would be.

The first person to win was 20 year old Sam. Sam was an academic boy who focused on his studies at university. He would snack on Wonka bars when taking notes or writing assignments so when he opened the wrapper on a chocolate bar and was met with a golden ticket he was very surprised. Sam had dark blonde hair, quite tall and had a slight stubble covering his face. He had quite the lazy build, not fat but did have a slight gut as he didn't get out much due to all the readings and writing he has to do. He'd spend a lot of his days sitting around snacking and writing which didn't help his soft belly. This morning at the chocolate factory he was wearing a loose white t-shirt that covered his belly for the most part and some cream coloured shorts that hugged his little round bum very nicely. He was very excited to get a taste of some of Wonka's amazing chocolate and couldn't wait to eat it all.

Next to Sam were two much bigger lads: Matt and Will. Matt and Will, both 22, were two rugby lads, the typical rough around the edges bulky boys. They always loved competing against each other to see who was the best at something. The boys one evening had an eating contest of Wonka bars to see who could eat the most. Matt was quite trim with big strong arms and big shoulders whilst Will was bigger with a strong chest and thick thighs but also a soft strong belly. Matt would often tease Will for his bigger appetite which led to their stuffing contest. As the two boys were reaching the end of their pile of chocolate, they both opened up their bars to find a golden ticket. These two were so excited to go. Will loved to treat himself every so often to Wonka's sweet treats so going to his factory was his dream. Matt secretly enjoyed seeing Will eat and get bigger and bigger so he knew that this trip would be very exciting. They stood waiting outside the factory, Matt showing off his body with his compression shirt and joggers combo, hugging all the right places showing just how fit he was. Will decided to cover up more with a hoodie and joggers. He was used to covering up as Matt liked to tease him for his belly. "Don't stuff your face too much today big boy" Matt teased just this morning as they got ready to go to the factory giving his belly a little tap causing it to wobble.

Next to these two boys stood a very tall and very skinny boy with black hair and oversized clothes on, Henry. Henry wasn't much for going out, in fact he enjoyed spending most of his time playing video games at home. He loved escaping his world of disappointing his parents and always being alone and entering a more interesting fantasy world. At 19 Henry hadn't achieved much in his life but when he saw he won a golden ticket he knew this was his time to prove that he isn't a total failure and make it to the end of the factory tour hopefully winning something at the end.

The last boy in the line was a short round bellied chubby boy called Charlie. Charlie was the oldest there, 25, and by far the fattest. He loved Wonka's candy and he would eat it all day every day so when he won a ticket he was so excited to go see how it was made and hopefully get to try some new sweets. Charlie would get teased a lot for his weight, having always been a big guy he never found him self that attractive so instead he'd just eat. He wore a grafic t-shirt with the words "WONKA" written across it, however the shirt was too tight and had to be stretched over his soft chest and barely covering his hairy gut. He wore some much more comfortable joggers which still were tight around his thick body.

All the boys were stood in line ready to enter the world famous chocolate factory all wondering what was waiting for them when they entered. The doors slowly opened and the excitement built all around them. Out walked the very tall and very powerful Willy Wonka. He wore a purple suit with a tall top hat and a long cane and he marched confidently towards the boys. "Welcome my dear boys. What a joyous occasion it is to have you all here at my factory." He looked the line up and down, taking in all the boys and seeing their excitement. "You boys are very lucky to have won a ticket to my factory. We have some very exciting things in store for you," he said with a slightly mischievous grin. "Now, enough waiting. Should we get going?" Before waiting for an answer, he then turned right around and started walking back to the doors. All the boys followed him in and before they knew it they were cut off from the outside world, with only the unknown ahead of them.

They were walking down a really long and dark corridor with no windows or any sign of this being a chocolate factory. When they finally reached the end where there was a small door, about 3 feet high. The boys all looked at each other confused. Are they meant to squeeze through this small door? Wonka got his keys out and turned a lock in the door and pushed it open. A bright light came from the door but the boys couldn't see into it. "Well what are you waiting for? Go on!" Wonka said giving Charlie a tap on his jiggly arse with his cane. Charlie jumped slightly but then proceeded to try and squeeze through the door. Charlie, already being a rather round boy, struggled to get through. Both his belly and arse got stuck and the rest of the boys laughed at him as he wiggled through the small gap. Matt gave Will a nudge and pointed as Charlies fat arse wriggling, his arse crack peaking over the top of his tight joggers. Next was Will who also got slightly stuck in the door due to this bulky body. Matt gave him a slap on his arse and called him a pig with a chuckle. Next was Matt followed by Henry and finally Sam. As Sam entered he looked up and around the room. It was a room full of life. Plants everywhere and a large brown river in the centre of it. The room smelt sweet and a rumble could be heard coming from all the boys bellies as if none of them had eaten in days. Wonka finally entered the room and introduced them to it. "This my boys is the chocolate room where everything is edible. Eat whatever you want and whatever you can fit into your bellies." All the boys look confused. Will took a leave on a neighbouring plant and put it in his mouth skeptical. His eyes widened and he was shocked that it was a fruity gummy leaf.

"This is amazing" said while still chewing as he started picking more of the bush to each. All the other boys then jumped to life running around the room trying everything. Matt and Will had situated themselves by a tree eating the fruits off it then the leaves then the branches. They made a competition of who could eat more of the tree. Henry had found some mushrooms that were filled with cream. He was taking handfuls and stuffing them into his mouth with globs falling and landing onto his shirt. Charlie was digging up the ground, stuffing his face with the sweet grass and then the chocolate soil underneath. He couldn't get enough his belly and mouth were already covered in the rich chocolate dirt. Matt had seen the state of him and pointed it out to Will saying how much of a hog he is. Little did the Matt and Will know they also looked like hogs, both now having bloated full bellies. The two boys laughed and they carried eating the tree, stuffing themselves even further. Sam had made his way to the river side. He loved Wonkas chocolate so much and he could smell that this river was all melted chocolate. He got down on his knees and put his hand into the river and drank some of the chocolate. It was the best chocolate he'd ever tasted. It was rich yet sweet and so creamy it just slipped down his throat and into his belly. It covered his mouth and filled it up with the warm chocolate liquid. He had to go back for a second handful and then a third and he couldn't stop. He then put his face into the river just gulping as much of down as possible. The creamy warm liquid filled his mouth and belly. Sam came up for air as he licked his lips and his hands of the chocolatey goodness. He could feel the chocolate bloat his belly but he didn't care. It felt amazing as it filled him up.

Wonka then called all the boys over to show them something. All the boys ran over to where Wonka was. Matt and Will still eating the fruits and Henry licking his hands of the mushroom cream. All the boys were displaying fuller bellies having just spent a good portion of time just stuffing their faces with food, most noticeably Charlie who's already tight shirt had now ridden up teasing to show off his deep belly button. "I wanted to show you my workers here. If you look across the river bank you should be able to see those men." Over the river were men about 6 foot in high and all very well build with strong muscles. All the workers wore full orange latex suits showing off their great bodies. "These men work here 24/7 to help run this factory the best it possibly can. In return I give them the best life possible here in my factory. Without them I couldn't do any of this."

Just then a large rumble came from Sam's belly. Sam looked down and grabbed his soft torso. "My boy you can't still be hungry?" Wonka asked confused.

"No I think I'm just very full Wonka. To be honest I did drink a lot of the river" Sam replied pointing to the river bank whilst still clutching his belly. "Your chocolate is just amazing."

"Oh dear my boy I forgot to say, you mustn't drink straight from the river its far to fatty for consumption at this stage. Can't believe i forgot to mention." Sam looked panicked at Wonka as he said this.

"Well whats going to happen to me?" Sam said slightly worried as his belly continued to rumble loudly.

"Oh hopefully nothing too crazy. Maybe put on a few pounds but nothing huge-" Wonka was cut off as if right on queue as Sam's belly began to push outwards. His already soft belly was now growing softer and fatter. His chest got fuller too pushing against his shirt which was becoming tighter by the second. His legs and arse were also filling his tight shorts quickly. Sams was panicking now. This was quickly becoming more than a few pounds. He grabbed his ever expanding belly and shook it as he looked at Wonka who was just smiling at him. His shirt now was riding up belly showing off his snail trail rising higher and higher till his deep belly button popped out. A snap could be heard from under his round belly as his shorts couldn't hold his expanding waist anymore and the button popped off flying across the room. The seams on the side of his shorts were stretching and splitting by his arse. His shirt rode further up exposing the fat boys round hairy gut which wobbled as it grew outwards. Now the shirt resembled that of a bra supporting his large moobs which grew fatter and fatter by the second. His love handles grew wider as well as his hips which became too much for his poor shorts which split into shreds exposing his tight pink underwear he was wearing. Following this was his shirt ripped into pieces leaving his chest to giggle on top of his huge belly. His fat round cheeks turned pink with embarrassment as he felt his almost naked enlarged body on show to everyone. All his limbs had filled with soft lard causing him to jiggle as he looked around at his new huge body. The rest of the group looked at him in shock, and for some enjoyment. Matt was smiling at him looking longingly at Sam's huge fat arse with a strong boner forming in his pants. Sam's growth seemed to slowly come to an end, jiggling to a halt. He now stood at about 600lbs now in tiny pink underwear where the seams were stretched to the max, barely keeping his naked fat body from show. "WONKA WHATS HAPPENED TO ME?!?!? I'M FUCKING MASSIVE" Sam said feeling his belly and his new tits.

"Well yes you are quite big. Much bigger then I would've thought as well. You must have been a little pig and drank loads of my river huh?" Wonka said looking at the fat boy up and down. Sam went bright red in embarrassment. "Right well what to do with a big hog like you then? You can either carry on the tour but I must warn you it's quite the walk and i'm not sure you will fit through a lot of the door ways. I can send you back home now like this?"

"I cant leave looking like this? Are you joking? I was only 160lbs when I entered I'll never hear the end of it"

"You were at least 200lbs when we entered chubs don't lie" Matt chimed up still fixated on Sams huge curves. Sam looked very embarrassed knowing that Matt was right.

"Yes well I guess questions will be asked how you got so... bulky." Wonka took some time to think looking at Sam's huge belly and circling round to his round buttocks. "Well I guess you could become one of my workers? You could become a taste tester? All you do is sit and eat all day and I'm sure you are used to that. You'll be given free accommodation and free food of course."

"You mean I'm stuck like this? You don't have a thing that can burn all this fat?" Sam asked now more defeated.

"I'm afraid not my big boy. The only way to lose this is intense exercise and a diet which demands great will power, which we know you don't have."

"I guess i have no choice then. I'll work for you then Wonka." Sam said now having to accept his fate as a new fat boy.

"Perfect. I'll have my workers take you to the taste testers immediately. You'll fit in just perfectly with the rest of them." Just then a well build strong worker walked up to Sam and grabbed his hand. He started walking towards a larger door then where they entered and led Sam through there, with Sam waddling behind him. All the extra movement led for Sam's remaining clothes to tear apart, leaving nothing to the imagination. Lucky for him his large gut covered his front, but is huge ass was on show jiggling with every move. As they were leaving the rest of the group could see Sams body jiggle and also see the workers excitement at the sight of his. The worker gave his arse a good smack as the doors closed on them. "Oh i do like to give my workers some fun. Right shall we move on then boys?" Wonka said looking at the four boys left. They all were still shocked by what they just saw but were happy to move on.

Matt turned to Will and said "I'm just saying it was a matter of time before he got huge. Wont be surprised if that pig there will follow suit" pointing over to Charlie. Will laughed at him and agreed.

The group then left the chocolate room with just the memories of their big friend Sam. Sam quickly learnt that he can enjoy his new size with the worker taking him to a private room. He showed him just how sexy his new body was Sam soon was begging for more food to keep him nice and plump. I guess some men are into big guys...

So I'm starting this new series about a group of boys who enter wonkas factory and im sure you can figure out what happens next. This is part 1 of 4 (not sure yet) so please show some love if you want the next parts. These take quite a lot of time to write so would love to see some support. Thank you and hope you enjoy!

[sophie-hatter-jenkins]

Rose

Written for @hinnymicrofic February 2024, using December 2023 Prompt 28

Written with love, because everyone gets busy sometimes, and the world always needs more hinny! Also - as usual, stretching the definition of micro!

Rose sat on the bench, watching as the flock of pigeons pecked in the dust at the foot of Nelson’s Column. She enjoyed watching the birds. Everyone else seemed to hate them, to regard them as a menace, but she always found them comically amusing. 

She tried to come here most weeks, though it wasn’t as often now. The journey was too much for her aching hip. But she’d force herself if she possibly could, because what was the alternative? Sitting alone in her little flat? Rose much preferred to be out in the fresh air, especially on a day like this. 

Besides, coming here, to Trafalgar Square, always made her feel closer to her Stanley. It reminded her of trips to see the paintings in the gallery behind her, when they were first courting. They didn’t know much about art, her and Stanley, but the gallery was free, and neither of them had much spare cash in those days. Besides, it made her feel very posh, dressed in her best frock and hat, looking at the paintings. Afterwards, he’d buy them an ice cream, and they would sit together on these very benches, watching the pigeons, laughing together and falling in love. 

She sighed to herself. He’d been gone eleven years now, and it still felt like she was missing a limb, but sitting here, on a bright, sunny day, he didn’t feel so very far away. She smiled to herself, and closed her eyes for a moment, breathing in deeply as she allowed herself to imagine that he’d left her for just a minute to go and buy those ice creams from the little kiosk by the steps. 

Her eyes drifted open once more, and wandered over the other people gathered in the square. There was a group of school children, racing back and forth, and scattering the pigeons, while their increasingly harassed teachers attempted to corral them. Three young women that she thought were probably nannies chatted in Spanish as they pushed their young charges in buggies in the direction of Admiralty Arch and St James’s Park beyond. A man in a smart business suit carrying a briefcase was talking to someone on one of those new-fangled mobile phones. 

Then a young couple caught her eye. They approached from the direction of Whitehall, walking hand in hand, and eating ice creams. Hers was chocolate, and his was strawberry - exactly what she and Stanley would have chosen. She wasn’t sure exactly how she knew, but it was immediately obvious to her that they were very much in love. Perhaps it was the easy way that the girl tilted her head into the boy’s shoulder, or the way he dropped occasional kisses into her hair. It warmed Rose’s soul to see it.

They made a handsome couple, she thought. The girl was extremely pretty, petite, with a wicked smile and the sort of hourglass figure that Rose had so envied in her youth. She had long red hair that tumbled down her back, and a healthy crop of freckles dusting her skin both above and below her denim shorts and stretchy strapless top. Some of her friends at the bridge club might have had something to say about the substantial amount of skin the girl was showing, but personally, Rose thought she looked cute as a button. She liked to see the young making the most of their youth. It was gone all too soon.

Her boyfriend was tall and slender. At first glance, you might think he was skinny, but the lean, whip-like muscles visible down his arms below the sleeves of his faded green t-shirt told a different story. His hair was black, and very messy, and he was wearing wire rimmed glasses that reminded her of the ones Stanley used to wear. As she watched them, the light breeze caught his hair, and Rose saw a strange scar running down his forehead and through his eyebrow. She frowned, wondering what could have caused such an injury. It was a shame, she thought, that such a handsome face was so badly marked, but the girl didn’t seem to mind and that, supposed Rose, was all that mattered. 

Together, they wandered across the stone paving, stopping to look up at the statue of Nelson as the boy tossed the last of his wafer cone into his mouth. The girl gazed upwards, frowning as though confused, and the boy dipped his head to say something to her. The girl looked even more puzzled, then her face cleared, and she nudged the boy playfully, clearly catching him in some joke at her expense. The boy caught her wrists, grinning at her, and she giggled, then protested when he leaned forward to lick her ice cream. They were both laughing when he released her, and she offered him the remains of her cone. He made short work of it, and then drew her towards him, crashing his lips into hers.

Now that’s a proper kiss, thought Rose. The two of them stayed there, locked together, as though they were the only two souls in the entire city, and when they finally broke apart, Rose could see a look of euphoria on the girl’s face. Grinning broadly, she took a pace backwards, spread her arms wide, tilted her chin to the sky and began to spin around. She appeared to the woman as the embodiment of pure joy.

The boy just stood and watched her, his own expression making it clear just how besotted he was. His hand dropped into the pocket of his jeans, and even at quite a distance, Rose could see him swallow hard, as though he was bracing himself for something. A moment later the girl stilled, facing him. Rose thought perhaps he might have called her name. For a moment, neither of them moved. Then, the boy dropped to one knee, and in the same movement pulled a small red box from his pocket, presenting it to her. 

The girl’s hands flew to her face, which flushed bright pink, a vivid shade that clashed violently with her hair. She nodded vigorously, and her eyes brightened with tears. Gently, the boy took her hand, and slipped a ring onto her finger, then stood and pulled her back into his arms once again. A few minutes later, arm in arm, they began to stroll back up towards Charing Cross Road, passing quite close to Rose as they did so.

“Congratulations,” she told them.

“Oh! Thank you!” exclaimed the girl, beaming. The boy said nothing, only grinned.

Rose sat and watched them go. They both seemed so young, perhaps not even into their twenties. Once again, she was reminded of her and Stanley. They’d married young too, but then again, so had most people back then, eager to put down roots after the war. Stanley had worn his RAF uniform on their wedding day, and he had looked so very handsome. They’d been separated for so long, Stanley aboard a Lancaster bomber as a navigator, while she did her bit on the home front, working as a nurse at a city hospital during the Blitz, each of them facing terrible danger every single day. She remembered how terrified she’d been that he might never come back to her, and when she saw him standing at her door on that wonderful day when he did, the wave of relief was so powerful that her knees buckled underneath her. They’d been married six months later, battered and bruised and very much not the same innocent couple eating ice creams in their Sunday best in Trafalgar Square, but perhaps loving one another more fiercely because of it.

Twisting her shoulders, Rose could just pick out long red hair alongside a messy black head in the crowds, silently wishing them every happiness. She was glad they would never have to know the horror of a war that threatened their very existence, or the pain of an enforced separation where neither could be sure whether the other was even still alive. They would make a beautiful bride and groom, she was sure. 

The shriek of a delighted toddler, racing through the flock of pigeons momentarily pulled her attention away. When she looked back, the boy and the girl were gone.

[ktwritesstuff]

First Comes Love (a Last of Us fanfic)

Title: First Comes Love Fandom: The Last of Us (no-pocalypse AU) Rating: Explicit Characters & Pairings: Joel Miller x plus size!Reader Word Count: ~1,600 Summary: A rare night alone with Joel. Beta-read by the incomparable @bs-fangirl. Additional content notes below the cut.

Part 2 posted 9/1

A/N: At last I have returned to my roots: all your faves want to fuck fat girls. It is, sadly, the early 2000s (no shroompocalypse) so the reader character having history of experiencing anti-fatness seemed unavoidable, so TW for a brief mention. Other than some light breeding kink we have mostly fluffy cuteness. Enjoy!

Austin, TX. 2004

Joel wanted to go out for dinner, but you convinced him to stay in.  It was rare for you to have a night alone--Sarah was at a sleepover--and you didn't want to waste a minute.  Some folks might have considered Sarah a complication.  Dating a single father of a teenaged, mixed-race daughter wasn’t without its challenges (not the least of which was bending over backwards to arrange date night) but the truth was, Sarah was the only reason you had given him a chance.

Joel was a good looking guy–a real man’s man–so much so that at first you hadn’t trusted his interest in you. You thought, perhaps, he learned to set his sights a little lower as a single dad.  That the caliber of women he was used to–women like Sarah’s mother, no doubt–wouldn’t give him a second look once they found out he was raising his little girl alone.  You had spent a lifetime being told that you were undesirable because of your size, but Joel never made you feel undesired. 

Joel picked you up after work.  You grabbed burgers and shakes at the Creamery and ate in the truck on the way back to Joel’s.  He kissed you playfully as you came through the front door, blowing raspberries on your throat and behind your ear until you screamed with laughter as you fell into bed together.  

Joel unbuttoned your blouse slowly, one loop at a time, kissing his way down your breasts.  Working his way down your body, he lingered longer to adore the rolls and folds of your stomach with his mouth and fingertips.  It used to make you self-conscious, but you had since come to enjoy the loving attention he gave the largest part of your body.  He opened your jeans and slipped one hand into your panties.  Two fingers slid through your folds, stroking up and down against your clit.

“So good.”  His breath felt warm against your skin.  “So wet for me.”

You leaned back, pressing your head into his pillow with a content sigh.  It smelled like Tide and Irish Spring and the clean sweat that was unmistakably Joel.   

You whined a little as he paused his ministrations and rested his head on the soft pouch below your navel, his beard tickling the delicate skin.     

“Watcha doing?” You grinned, running your fingers through his curls.

“Thinking,” Joel sighed as his fingers traced spirals on the lowest part of your belly.

“About what?”

“Putting a baby in here,” Joel’s chocolate-brown eyes glanced up at you.  “Is that okay?”

“Yes.”  

The answer spilled out of you before you even had time to think.  You had assumed Joel didn’t want any more kids, he was so devoted to Sarah.  It was one of the things you loved most about him.  You never felt like you needed a child of your own to be a family.  But the idea of Joel wanting another baby was so delightfully surprising; you relished the idea of raising little chunky-thighed peanuts with huge brown eyes and dark curls. 

“Really?” Joel grinned.

You nodded.

“Good,” Joel said, snaking his way back up your body to kiss your throat.  “Because I can’t wait to fuck my babies into you.”

You pulled the back of Joel’s t-shirt up over his head and he shucked it off in a hurry to slide his hand back down your pants, fingers stroking through your increasingly damp folds.  He kissed you like he was swimming through your mouth, coming up for sips of air between long, confident strokes.  You reached down to grope him through his pants.

“Gonna love watching your belly grow,” he whispered, low and husky with desire.  “Knowing it’s my baby in there, warm and safe, enjoying that nice squishy water bed.”

You felt giddy at his sudden confession.  Joel was far from an inattentive lover, but he wasn’t usually this talkative.  You could tell he was enjoying the fantasy and frankly, so were you, spreading your legs a little wider as he stroked you lazily.

“Keep going.”

“I’ll read to the baby and sing to them, so they get to know daddy’s voice. Gonna take such good care of you, too.” Joel dipped two fingers inside you, curling them up around the curve of your pelvis.  “Rub your feet when you’re tired and get you ice cream in the middle of the night.”

You ran your hands over Joel’s chest and back, feeling the hard muscles under a thin layer of padding.  Not vanity muscles, Joel had the body of a man who worked with his hands–strong, useful.

“What else?”

“Your tits are gonna be fucking huge.”  Joel drew both hands up to knead your breasts.  “Getting ready to feed our baby.  I’d suck them for you…If you wanted.”  

You almost laughed out loud, but you would hate to embarrass him after he had opened up to you.  

“You can,” you assured him.

Joel shifted his weight back, bowing his head to your breasts, sealing his mouth over one nipple, pressing down with the flat of his tongue.  

You knew you had a good one, but hearing Joel’s secret fantasies spilling was so endearing, that what he wanted most were all the things he hadn’t gotten to experience with Sarah.  You had never been desperate for children of your own, but now anything else was unthinkable. 

“I want to have your babies, Joel.”  

“Yeah?”  Joel looked up at you, bright eyed and flushed.

“A whole gaggle of them,” you said, taking his face in your hands.  

“Shit, that’s hot,” Joel chuckled, dipping his head to work the beginnings of a hickey into the crook of your neck.  “You’re so fucking sexy right now.”

“Careful,” you warned.  “We’re not teenagers anymore.”

You suspected Sarah was well-aware her father was no celebate monk, but there was no need to publicly embarrass the poor girl.  You wanted desperately to stay on her good side–she and Joel had a special relationship.

“If we had met when we were teenagers, we’d have a whole damn baseball team by now,” Joel said.

You rolled your eyes at his attempt at flattery.  You knew damn well the high school version of Joel would never have given your bespectacled and brace-faced younger self a second glance.

“Thank God for small mercies,” you teased. 

“You ready for me?” Joel asked, sitting up to retrieve a condom and lube from the bedside table.  You had barely touched him, and he was rock-hard, straining through his blue jeans.

You nodded, shimmying your pants down and kicking them off from around your ankles.  

Joel rolled on the condom and moved over you, lining the tip of his cock up at your entrance before pressing in slow and careful, stretching you open a little at a time.  

“How’s that?” he asked, bottoming out inside you.

“Feels good.”  You hitched your knees up around his waist, letting him press in deeper as you traced the triangles of muscle in his shoulders.

Joel kept most of his weight in his hips as he rocked into you.  A few short, quick thrusts followed by long, slow strokes.  He reached one hand between your bodies to massage your clit, sending sparkles of pleasure through your belly.

“Shit, that’s good.”  Your toes curled, muscles clenching and releasing as Joel fucked you through the climax. You tugged his hair and pressed your mouth over the exposed vein pulsing in his throat to keep from crying out.  

“Don’t stop.” You grabbed his ass with your other hand, your nails leaving crescent-moon indents in the plump flesh.

“I’m fucking close,” Joel laughed, brushing one hand over your sweat-damp hair.  

“Want you to come for me,” you panted between strokes.  “Come inside me.”

“Fuck!” Joel shuddered, collapsing onto you. 

You chuckled, still enjoying the ripples of your orgasm.  

“Shit,” Joel rallied.  “You need anything?”

“I’m golden,” you said with a smile as he kissed you.  

Joel held the base of the condom as he withdrew from you.  He rose from the bed and went to the bathroom to dispose of it.  You almost felt sorry for the unlucky little swimmers—they must have been so confused. No egg today, but hopefully one day soon…

“You know,” you called to him, adjusting your pillows.  “If you really want a baby, there’s only one thing you have to do.”

As Joel emerged from the bathroom, you held your left hand out to him, wiggling your fingers.           

Joel chuckled, crossing the room.  He opened his dresser drawer and returned to the bed with a small velvet box.  You gasped, hand flying to your mouth.

You had suspected Joel was thinking about proposing for some time now, when Sarah had not so subtly asked to “borrow” one of your rings for her Spring Fling dance. You had dropped your fair share of hints as well, browsing bridal magazines in the grocery checkout line and remarking which of Country Radio’s Top 10 would make a good first dance.   

Evidently Joel had reached the limit of his endurance. 

"Sarah found it while she was snooping," he explained.  "I was going to take you out for a nice dinner, get down on one knee–”

You opened the box, to find a perfect, tiny diamond on a simple gold band.  

Joel cleared his throat as he sat down beside you in bed.  “I know it’s small–”

“Shut up,” you snapped, slipping the ring on your finger.  “It’s beautiful!”

You laid back in bed, holding out your hand to admire the ring, glittering in the sunset light.  Joel draped his arm around you and you curled into his side.  

“I’m assuming because you put it on, that’s a yes,” he joked. 

“It’s a yes,” you agreed, kissing him.  

“We can tell Sarah tomorrow,” he said.  “I’ll pick her up before breakfast.”

“I’ll make pancakes,” you agreed.

“I don’t like pancakes,” Joel said.

You rubbed your nose against his playfully.  “Sarah does.”  

[zuffer-weird-girl]

Is there a reason why I decided to remake a fic of my family au? No, not really, but I wanted to.

Why did he agreed on this? Why?

He could be free of any eyebags,. He could have more time om his work, projects to get the hassaikai back to their glory... more PRIVATE time with you.

But no. No, no no. Have a kid Chisaki they said, it will be a great experience they said.

"Daddy I threw up." The four years old boy mumbled in the door of his office and he could only grimace at the hint of the puke on the corner of his son's lips and all over his shirt.

It wasn't a fucking great experience at all when it came to this.

Kaito had came down with a lot of bad case of colds recently... ever since he was put into a pree school at least. It was normal for kids to get easily sick when they get introduced to a new environment with lots of children in it.

But he swore to all above that sometimes he would even beg to you, ON HIS KNEES EVEN, that if you guys just could home school your son since it was getting him sick like this VERY single time.

But you refused.

At first he was enraged but then you came with a very valid point.

'Kaito needs to interact with more people outside the yakuza... I don't have anything against the precepts, but I think our son deserves to have a normal childhood with actual friends close to his age at least.'

He hated when you were right...

He also wouldn't particularly enjoy that his son got too close with precepts either... he did killed Mimic for teaching Kaito the word 'shit'...

It also didn't help that YOU WERE OUT. You had went along with Chrono to retrieve the medicines the doctor had prescribed on the last visit so now he was basically alone with his kid.

His very dirty and sick kid.

"Good lord..." he growled and stood up from his chair as the boy bounced back and forth... despite being sick, Kaito was still fairly acting like it wasn't a big deal...

"Where is mommy?" The boy as he leaded him to the bathroom to get him cleaned, grab some towels..... and a new pair of gloves.

"Out." He groaned while carefully sliding the shirt off his son and immediately dumping into the basket of clothes ... the smell was almost making him wanting to throw his guts out as well...

"I want mommy... " the boy grumbled "You don't know how to do this..."

"Excuse me?" He breathed out in offense at this kid basically telling him he can't do something right "Get in the shower Kaito. Now."

"No."

This brat....

"Get in there before I make you." He growled and the little boy, already used to his father's attics, just had the audacity to show his tongue at him and turn his back to him.

"You dont how to wash my hair." The four years complained and Chisaki's right eye started to twitch.

"What do you mean by that-"

"Mommy does it better than you."

He groaned... his son was just as stubborn as him and he swore this was karma sended by the old man himself that ALSO was the one that proclaimed he wanted grandkids.

He just took his gloves off and went to grab Kaito's by the waist but the calm and collected kid started to trash around and making a fuss and even yelled when he was put under the water...

He also got splashed as well.... his dress t shirt and black pants now completely soaked.

Kaito when he got sick he acted like it didn't bother him, but he also would get extremely annoyed, clingy and even bossy...

And the fact that the kid also made a fuss to GET OUT of the shower he DIDN'T want to enter at first also started to pick on his damn nerves...

"What did you even ate before you threw up?" He growled while drying the kid who was sniffing for both being sick and crying out earlier about his father taking him out of the water.

"Just some sliced apples... and a chocolate bar uncle Rappa gave me-"

"WHAT?!" He accidentally yelled, immediately feeling like a dick for making his son flinch from the sound..

It reminding him of... her.

"... you can't eat those things when you got problems on your stomach." He said more calmly and drying his son's hair way gentler than usual "It just makes things worse and it ends with you throwing up."

Kaito's (E/c) looked up to his father and nodded, more calm than earlier as Kai sighed... The kid wasn't dumb, he knew when his father was out of patient or just tired... he could even sense it when the yakuza leader was down in the dumb.

Call it whatever you want. But the kid swore it was a talent that only him and his mother could have. The ability to understand Chisaki Kai.

His grandmother always told him that so he believed it.

"Sorry." The kid finally mumbled catching Kai's attention... usually golden cold eyes softening a bit.

"... is fine." He patted his son's head... he resisted the urge to smirk when his son's closed his eyes with a small giggle.

.

.

.

"Hey! I'm back from the- oh." You immediately stopped on your tracks in the living room as soon as you saw Kai, holding his son like a dog, making him take a liquid medicine.

"MOMMY HELP HE IS TRYING TO KILL ME!" the boy whined and immediately got out of his father's death grip to run into you while sobbing a bit...

"He just threw up minutes ago." Kai growled while pointing to the culprit you had just picked up.

"He threw up and you didn't made a fuss out of it?" You teased your husband who only growled at you "I'm shocked."

"No. He was bad at it. See mama?" Kaito pulled a bit his hair "He forced me to take a shower and my hair is now weird... daddy also mentioned he would kill uncle Rappa."

"Listen here you little sh-"

"KAI!"

.

.

.

"He is asleep.." You sighed in relief before closing the door to your son's room and but soon catching your husband unusual expression of... worry? Dread? You couldn't exactly tell.

Apparently sensing your gaze on him he just stayed with his arms crossed over his chest before sighing.

"I don't think is normal for a infant to get constantly sick like this..."

Ah... so that was it.

He was worried. Worried that his son would only get worse on his health, worried that Kaito would be sick like this all of time.

Kai wouldn't ever say that out loud.. he would never express it with words that he was worried or cared for either Kaito or you... his actions though, express it louder how much he actually cared. From offering small acts of service to satisfy your wants and even allow himself to get out of his comfort zone to touch you...to protecting his kid on the playground like a angry wolf protecting his cub only because the kid had pushed Kaito with a bit more strength than usual.

Chisaki could be very bad with emotions... but he had them, and believing it or not, he felt them strongly.

"Is alright... the doctor already told us it's a common cold... Kaito is still young and is still developing his immune system..." You mumbled, offering to touch his arm as a warning to not make him uncomfortable.

He simply sighed, a sign you could touch him as you started to carres his upper arm...

"... is not a very... pleasant sensation to see him... on this state. I mean, not only is a mess and this brat gets even more audacious as usual but..." he stopped himself from talking with a scowl before widening his eyes when you made him turn to kiss his lips.

"I'm worried for our son too. But he is strong, just like his parents." You smiled up at your husband before he scoffed, turning to look back to his son's room. A faint blush present on the tip of his ears.

He didn't liked the feeling of his chest contracting in a painfully way every time when Kaito sobbed a bit that he was feeling weird and went straight to you as a comfort... he despised the idea of possibly getting whatever Kaito had but he also felt that it would hurt less if he got this damn cold rather his first born...

It was a very complicated feeling.

.

.

.

But...

Whenever he spotted his son. Giggling, laughing, running... playing with you, Chrono or Pops... it meant that he was well again... he was indeed health.

So yeah... things like seeing your smile and his son's smile... was worth all the nights without sleep or even the worst feeling of deep worry...

.... he didn't regret it. He would go back in time and agree all over again with you to have that brat he swore he would protect you and with his life.

[thewintersoldierdisaster]

a/n: my @wyattjohnston winter fic exchange fic for @senditcolton (whose writing i am OBSSESSED with - praise you like i should made me see the light on matty t) 🥰 i’ve never written for tyler seguin and my only familiarity with him was him showing his own headshot to get into the arena which immediately made me love him lol. i had fun writing this one and i hope you enjoy!!!

word count: 12.1k

tw: drinking , fingering (f receiving), oral (f receiving), dirty talk, hangovers, mild cursing

summary: new year’s eve in las vegas gets out of hand when you meet tyler, a gorgeous stranger in the club

After your divorce papers are signed, sealed, and delivered - on Christmas day no less, leave it to your jackass ex to find the only lawyer in the entire Fort Worth area willing to work on a national fucking holiday - your best friends appear at your front door with suitcases, bottles of champagne, and round trip tickets to Las Vegas, leaving on the 27th.

“No,” you tell them flatly, arms crossed over your flannel shirt, hair in a three-day old knot on top of your head. “I’m not in the mood to go anywhere, much less Vegas.”

You hadn’t even taken your parents up on the offer to pay for a plane ticket back home to New York for the holidays. It was too much to face them after your marriage had imploded and getting the third degree from your relatives wasn’t exactly something you wanted to do. Spending the holidays alone had seemed like a better option, even if the day had been a little lonely. But a spiked hot chocolate and a string of Christmas movie classics had kept you from getting too depressed.

“Honey,” Nora says, in her Christmas sweat set, the cartoon Grinch blazoned across the front giving you a nasty smirk, a patient smile on her face, “now is exactly the time to get away. You just shed a hundred seventy five pounds of jackass, you need a distraction.”

She muscles past you and nearly drags her rolling suitcase’s wheels over your bare toes. You pull your foot back and lean against the wall as Katie and Nic follow her inside, a makeshift parade to celebrate your divorce. Nic at least has the decency to shoot you an apologetic look as she passes, whispering, “I tried to get her to settle for a little trip to a spa, you know, manis, pedis, massage. But you know Nora…”

“Never Takes No for an Answer Nora,” you finish when Nic trails off, smiling a little despite yourself. Nic gives you a little smile and bumps your hip with hers.

“Seriously though,” she says as you close the door behind her, “if you really don’t want to go, Nor will understand.”

You sigh and shake your head. “No, I…it’s probably good for me to get out of town,” you admit reluctantly. It’s been a depressing few months, full of anger and tears and tense phone calls and curt emails. You’re tired of being sad, of being angry, but mostly you’re tired of being in the same city as your asshole ex-husband. Even though you moved out of the house you shared and into an apartment, the entire city holds reminders of your relationship. Now that the divorce is official, you’re starting to wonder if staying in Fort Worth is the right move. Your friends and your job are here, but the risk of running into Jason is astronomically high and maybe a change of scenery would be good. You rub at your forehead - that’s a problem for the new year.

The girls leave their suitcases in a pile in your front hall. Two pairs of Nikes and a pair of Ugg platforms join the suitcases and you’re pulled into a pile on your couch - the college tradition for a broken relationship. Back then it had been cheap wine coolers and binge watching The Bachelor. Now, Nora hands you a bottle of champagne, cheers when you pop the cork, and drops her head to your shoulder after you take a huge gulp. You drape your legs over Katie’s lap and rest your cheek on the top of Nora’s head. It’s not the way you thought you’d be spending the holidays, but you’re so grateful for your friends.

“In about an hour, we’re going to start helping you pack,” Nora says, taking the second bottle of champagne from Nic and swigging from it. “But right now, it’s time to tell us every single negative thought you’ve had about Jackass Jason and didn’t want to say before.“

“Have to cleanse the energy,” Nic says, “by putting all his negative traits into the air and I’ll light some sage.”

“Sage?” You lift an eyebrow, warm and cozy in the cocoon of your friends.

Nic digs into her giant purse and pulls out a wad of sage, tied up with white string. She beams. “Sage! It’s very cleansing.”

Katie cackles a laugh. She kicks Nic’s thigh lightly and grins, “never change those hippie ways, Nicky.”

“Pass me a lighter,” Nic holds out her free hand and wiggles her fingers. Nora drops a well used plastic Bic onto her palm and you lean in to cup your hands under the sage bundle. The last thing you want is ashy smudges on your couch.

It takes two tries, but eventually Nic manages to get the lighter to catch and she holds the flame to the top of the bundle. It immediately starts to smell of the burning herb and smoke rises to the ceiling when she blows out the small fire. You cough a little, the scent of sage stinging your nose. Nic rolls off the couch and begins to wave the stick around, explaining what she’s doing as she goes.

“So, we’re getting rid of all of Jason’s negative energy and karma,” she waves the stick and you wince when a little clump of ashes falls to the carpet and then sigh when Nic’s bare foot grinds them further into the fibers.

“Jason never lived here,” you point out reasonably, the bottle of champagne lighter in your hand as you take another drink. Your chest already feels lighter and less knotted with grief and anxiety.

Nic looks at you like you’re an idiot and you feel strangely chastened, taking another swig from the bottle. “Honey, his negative energy and toxicity was absorbed by you and all the stuff you took from the house. We have to just, like, get his energy out of here.” She cocks her head at you, squints, asks, “would you consider cutting your hair? Hair holds onto a lot of trauma.”

“No!” You yelp, hand flying up to clutch at the knotted mess on top of your head. “I thought you were the ones to talk me out of breakup bangs when he first left? Now I’m supposed to cut my hair?”

“Just a suggestion,” she says, even as the other two chime in from the couch to encourage a change in your hairstyle. Nora mentions a bob and you resist the urge to kick her.

With a roll of your eyes, you say firmly, “I’m not cutting my hair. Let’s move on from this.”

Nic nods and finishes sageing the apartment, leaving a faint haze of smoke in the air and you’re honestly very grateful when she puts the bundle in a ziploc bag and stashes it back in her purse. “Okay,” she beams, dusting off her hands, “bad energy officially cleansed. We can move onto the fun part!” She drinks from the bottle that you’ve mostly emptied on your own and before you can ask what the fun part is, you’re being pushed into your bedroom and the girls are rummaging in your closet for your suitcase.

They work in coordination, while you’re sitting stupid in the middle of your bed, to throw your skimpiest clothes into the opened suitcase. You watch as a colourful array of fabric is tossed from your drawers and wonder what, exactly, they have planned for the trip.

“This one, for sure,” Katie’s voice is muffled from deep in your closet. Her hand appears, the mirrored minidress you bought and wore for the Eras Tour swinging from its hanger. The mirrors sparkle under the hi-hats in your room and throw discs of light onto your bedroom walls.

“What are we doing in Vegas?” You ask finally, pulling your knees to your chest and wrapping your arms around them. “I mean, I love that dress, but can’t this just be a chill trip? Like what if we just got tickets to see Adele? And I can cry to her music?”

“Absolutely not,” Nora shakes her head and Katie shakes the dress at you again. “We’re going to get you to forget about the jackass and the divorce one way or another. Whether it’s drinks or dick, that’s your choice, but you deserve to let loose after taking care of him all these years.”

“Besides,” Katie pipes up, “how good do you think we are that we could get last minute Adele tickets? That shit was sold out months ago!”

Tears prickle at your eyes, your nose burning a little. Divorced at 27 isn’t exactly how you pictured your life going after meeting Jason in college, getting married at 22, and supporting him all throughout his time in law school, but you’re beyond grateful for your girls.

“No dick,” you murmur, a shaky smile on your face. “I’m not ready for that, but drinks I can do.”

The trio cheers and starts tossing more clothes into your suitcase.

——

The next day is spent nursing your mild hangover and repacking the drunken mess you’d all made of your suitcase the night before. Once you’re packed to your satisfaction - mirrored mini dress and platform heels included - you run out for a quick wax before meeting the girls for a manicure.

“I meant to say it last night,” you say watching your crusty old gel polish disappear into dust, “but let me know what I owe you, for the flight and hotel and everything. I’ll Venmo you.”

Nora waves you off, apologising quickly to the manicurist when she complains as Nora’s hand is ripped away. “Don’t even worry about that. I used miles for the flights and -“

“The guy I’ve been seeing?” Nic cuts in. “The hedge fund guy, Mark, he’s treating for the hotel suite.”

Katie’s eyebrows shoot up along with yours. Clearly she didn’t know about the hotel connect. “Whoa,” she grins, “Nicky with the high roller! Hold onto him with two hands.”

Nic blushes. “He’s really sweet too.” She continues talking about him for a few minutes until she stops herself and looks at you with wide eyes and an apologetic expression. “Oh god, I’m so sorry! Here I am rambling on and you’re going through -“

“Oh my god, don’t do that!” You cut her off. “I’m okay! I want to hear about the guys you’re dating. Just because I’m single again doesn’t mean I want death to love for everyone.” You snort a laugh that sounds a little forced even to your own ears. The girls share a look that you hate, but continue talking about the dates they’ve been on and the mediocre sex they’ve been having. Truthfully, you tune them out a little bit, cranky about the divorce, about the trip that was sprung on you, and embarrassingly enough, jealous that they’re having sex at all.

Even before Jason started the divorce proceedings six months ago, it had been nearly eight months before that the last time you had sex. You should’ve realized he was seeing someone else on the side because there was no way he had gone that long without sex. And yet. You’d been caught off guard by the cliched texts found in his phone, the lacy thong found in his car, and the divorce petition delivered to you while he was “working late.” Thinking back on it, you feel supremely stupid.

Now that the paperwork is signed and you’re officially, legally single again, you’re just glad you didn’t have kids or anything really significant to fight over. It’s almost a blessing that the process wasn’t as drawn out as it could’ve been.

You make a conscious effort to push all thoughts of Jason from your mind and try to be in the moment, a task made easier once you’re in the air en route to Vegas and then actually in the city itself. It’s both like the movies and not, colorful and loud and a little sketchy. But you immediately make twenty bucks on a slot machine in the airport, so you figure that’s a good omen for the trip.

The first four days of the trip pass in a blur - all you can eat buffets, drinking, dancing, spas, too little sleep, and too much gambling. You’re up nearly three hundred dollars after being down almost a thousand the day before, so that’s cause to celebrate with drinks. Not that you really need an excuse - you’ve had more alcohol in the last four days than in the last four months. You’re exhausted, but you’ve also laughed more than you have in a year and your face hurts from smiling. The entire city has a numbing effect on your lingering emotions and you feel yourself starting to rediscover who you were before the Jason of it all.

“Time for the mirrorball dress!” Nora singsongs, dancing around the suite in her plush robe. It’s New Year’s Eve and the city feels even sparklier than usual. The streets have been packed with people and the casinos are at capacity - apparently there’s a hockey game tonight too, so the sports bettors are having a field day. You’ve been going to different hotel bars and clubs the past few nights, but tonight is the big night out before you fly back to Texas tomorrow night.

The entire Strip is shut down to traffic for the night and you’re planning on going to TAO for dinner and dancing since it’s inside the Venitian, where you’re staying. It’s a major splurge, but fuck it, you’re about to get alimony from your corporate lawyer ex-husband. You still have Jason’s credit card, so you’re fully planning on putting dinner on his tab, before he realizes that the card is in your possession. For all the little details Jason remembers, he’s surprisingly bad about his finances.

For now though, you dig your hand into the pillowcase that had been full of the little shot sized bottles of alcohol four days ago and is now mostly empty. You groan when you pull out a little bottle of Pink Whitney, the pink lemonade vodka is your least favorite drink. You knock back the shot while the girls cheer you on, all three of them already in various states of tipsy. It honestly feels like you haven’t been completely sober since you left Texas.

Nic blasts a classic 2000s playlist while you’re getting ready and you dance around the huge suite, feeling light and floaty.

It’s complete chaos out on the Strip, even though it’s barely after 7. You could’ve gotten to the restaurant directly through the hotel, but you decide to walk outside for a bit to see what’s happening. It’s chillier than you expected, so by the time you get to the restaurant, you’re more than ready for a drink and dinner. You fill up on sushi and expensive drinks, gossiping about people you knew in college, spilling some more of the more extreme details of Jason’s cheating when you’re finished with your third TAO-tini.

“FUCK HIM!” Katie shouts in the middle of the restaurant, drawing attention to your table. You giggle and shush her drunkenly, waving a hand to get her to lower her voice. “No,” she shakes her head, only marginally quieter, “you really are so much better than that douche. When we get downstairs, we’re finding a man and you’re fucking him!”

Nic giggles and leans a little sideways in her seat, “new dick to cleanse Jackass Jason from your vagina!”

You flush with embarrassment as more people look over, but thank god the waiter comes by with the check. You toss Jason’s platinum AmEx onto the little dish and grin wickedly as you tell the girls, “dinner was on Jason.” They cheer and Nora laughs, “I should’ve ordered another drink!”

Once the bill is paid, with a generous 30% tip added, you traipse downstairs into the club part of the restaurant. The lights are low and the music is loud, plenty of people already drunkenly dancing just three hours before midnight. Nic and Nora join the fray immediately while you and Katie detour off to the bathroom quickly where you fix up your makeup and fluff up your hair, inspecting your face in the mirror. You look tired, but there’s a spark in your eyes that you hadn’t noticed was missing in the last year of your relationship with Jason.

“I’m serious,” Katie says, her solemn tone betrayed by the slight slur to her ‘s’. “Pick a guy in here and I will make sure you fuck him. You deserve a little fun.”

“I have been having fun,” you assure her, your reflection grinning at hers. The alcohol is making your brain pleasantly fuzzy, thoughts drifting away as easily as they come. “I don’t need a man right now,” you continue. “Even for the night. I just want to dance.”

“Okay!” Katie chirps, grabbing your hand and pulling you back out into the club. “Let’s dance!”

And you do. You find Nic and Nora and for a handful of songs, the four of you are jumping and screaming and having a blast.

Sweaty and thirsty, you break off from the girls and wobble towards the bar, weaving in between the throngs of people. The line for the bar is two or three people deep, so you settle in for a wait, looking around the room and people watching. The crowd seems pretty typical for New Year’s Eve in Las Vegas, but your gaze lands on a group of men and your heart skips a beat.

There’s at least four of them huddled together, maybe five, and you know you’re drunk, but you didn’t think you were drunk enough to be seeing double. You blink and they come into sharper focus - not seeing double, just two incredibly handsome, dark haired and bearded men. Another dark haired man with no beard and a curly haired blond man. They’re all in slacks and white button downs in various states of unbuttoned, like they came from the office or something. They don’t look out of place in the club though, with drinks in their hands and the way they’re grouped together.

They’re laughing and shoving at each other, like overgrown frat boys, and you can’t look away. You’re captivated by the way they hold themselves, clearly confident in their bodies. Even in the dark of the club, you can see the faint outlines of ink through the white fabric of one of the guys’ shirts.

You’re still staring like a creep when the tattooed guy turns and looks directly at you, making and holding eye contact. A little gasp slips from your lips and your stomach flips, the familiar and nearly forgotten feeling of arousal sparking to life in your stomach. His friends shove at his arms, laughing. You blink and look away, feeling shaky and not from the alcohol. A faint flutter between your legs has you pressing your thighs together. “This is stupid,” you mutter to yourself. Ten seconds of eye contact shouldn’t have had you reacting like this. Yes, it had been a while since you last had sex, but jeez.

You rub your fingers over the bridge of your nose and nearly jump out of your skin when a deep, unfamiliar voice says, “what are you drinking?” right in your ear.

“Oh!” You turn, stumbling just enough that a hand shoots out and grips your elbow to steady you. A warm, broad hand. Attached to a tanned, tattooed forearm. Attached to a broad chest barely covered by an obscenely unbuttoned white shirt - tattoos and chest hair exposed and making your body react. Attached to the dark haired man you had made eye contact with. You blink up into warm brown eyes and ignore the way your stomach clenches up. His thumb brushes against the inside of your elbow and your skin feels like it’s on fire.

His mouth, full lower lip and thinner upper lip surrounded by a neatly trimmed beard and moustache, quirks up at the corner. “In case I wasn’t clear,” he says and you can hear the laughter in his tone, “can I buy you a drink?”

A faint smile touches your own lips and you nod. “Double vodka cranberry,” you say, voice a little raspy from screaming along to the music.

Mystery Man nods, smiling, “good choice. Come with me?” Without waiting for an answer, he slides his hand down your forearm and laces his fingers with yours to pull you behind him while he uses his broad shoulders to muscle past the crowd around the bar. When you reach the bar, he does a quick maneuver, dragging you in front of him so you’re sandwiched between the bar and his chest, heat pouring off his body. He leans forward a bit, pressing against you, and catches the bartender’s attention. Your entire body feels too warm, the thin fabric of your thong growing damp from the solid mass of his chest against your back.

“Double vodka cranberry for the lady,” he orders. “And double scotch on the rocks for me.”

His forearms come to rest on the bar top, trapping you in the circle of his arms. The alcohol is lowering your inhibitions and your intrusive thoughts win out and you arch your back a little, pressing your ass into his crotch, turning your head to look back at him. He wears a shit eating grin on his face.

“I don’t usually let strangers buy me drinks,” you say, heart pounding in your chest. He doesn’t feel like a threat, doesn’t feel like someone you should be afraid of. You lean a little closer to him, something crackling in the air between your bodies.

Something flitters across his expression, but you’re just this side of drunk and can’t manage to identify it before it’s gone. “Tyler,” he introduces himself, trailing a finger over your arm and up to your shoulder where he plays with the thin silver strap holding your dress in place. “Not a stranger now.” Goosebumps lift on your arms as his fingertip twists in the skimpy strap. His gaze is searing, flickering from your eyes to your lips to the hint of cleavage exposed by the draping of your dress. Your nipples tighten under the fabric, pinching almost painfully.

You offer up your own name in return, taking the drink directly from the bartender when he returns. You sip at it and it tastes stronger than a double or maybe that’s just Tyler’s proximity that’s clouding your senses.

He takes a sip of his own drink and leads you away from the bar, giving you another opportunity to watch his back muscles move under his shirt as he works his way through the crowd. A gym rat, you think, with the way he’s all lean muscle and quiet strength. He’s muscled, but not disgustingly so.

“What are you doing in Vegas?” He asks, when you’re alone again, just off to the side of the bar. You can see the girls out of the corner of your eye, staring at you with matching ‘you go, girl!’ expressions on their faces. You giggle a little.

“Celebrating,” you reply vaguely, taking a sip of your drink and fluttering your lashes. You’re flirting, you realize. You haven’t flirted with anyone since Jason. The bubbly feeling in your chest expands and you smile up at him.

“Huh,” he laughs warmly, “what do you know, me too. And the only thing my night was missing is a pretty girl.”

Alcohol fuels your confidence, along with the hungry way Tyler’s gaze takes in your body, and you reply, “good thing you found me then.”

Your gaze lingers on the notch of his collarbone, the dusting of hair over his chest, the dark lines of his tattoos. Your cunt gives an enthusiastic throb and you swallow heavily.

Tyler leans in a little and you catch a whiff of spicy cologne mixed with the scotch on his breath. This isn’t his first drink of the night either. “Would your friends mind if I monopolized your time tonight?”

Biting your lip, you look over at the girls. Katie is moving her hand near her mouth in the universal sign for blowjob and Nic is giving you the biggest, most encouraging puppy dog eyes. Nora flashes you a double thumbs up, spilling some of her drink in the process. A laugh huffs through your nose and you look back up at Tyler, “no, I don’t think they’ll mind.”

“Good,” his smile is adorable, his hand lands on your waist, and you completely forget why you told Katie you weren’t interested in a hook up tonight. “Want to dance?”

You’re not quite sure how it happened - one minute you were dancing with Tyler, one of his arms wrapped securely around your waist while your hips gyrated against his pelvis, the hard bulge of his cock obvious every time you moved and the next minute you found yourself pressed up against a wall in the VIP section of TAO, with Tyler’s tongue deep down your throat and his hand sliding up the side of your thigh, fingertips playing at the hem of your dress. Your hands are fisted around the collar of his shirt, pulling him as close as you can while you moan into his mouth and cant your hips towards his, spreading your legs a little to encourage his hand’s exploration.

His fingertips make contact with the soaked fabric of your thong and you whimper, knees going weak. Tyler’s lips turn up in a smile against yours and he uses more pressure, finding your clit easily through the fabric until you have to pull back and gasp for air, your head thrown back while you pant.

“Jesus, baby,” he mutters, kissing a trail down your jaw and over your throat. “You’re fucking soaked.” He sucks gently at your pulse point, your heart hammering in your chest.

He slips his fingers under the fabric, rough pads of his fingers catching against your slick folds. “Oh my god,” you mutter, grinding against his fingers. “More, please, Tyler.”

He obeys, thumb catching on your clit and middle finger teasing at your entrance before sliding inside easily. A whine catches in your throat and it feels so good, too good. Between the alcohol and the lust and the months long celibacy, you’re at the edge of an orgasm in less than a minute, dripping around Tyler’s fingers before you can even process that you’ve come. White spots dance in your vision and it could be the strobe lights or the searing pleasure from having your clit rolled between Tyler’s thick fingers.

“Good girl,” he grins against your neck, beard and teeth scraping against your skin. Your face already feels rubbed raw with beard burn, but you don’t want him to stop. “Think you can do it again?”

Truthfully you think that you’re so worked up and horny you could come just from Tyler looking at you, but you nod and squeak out a yes.

Tyler bites a mark against your collarbone and drops to his knees, wedging his shoulders between your thighs and forcing them apart. He looks up at you from between your legs, dark eyes even darker with lust and a wicked grin on his face, “hold on, baby, gonna make you see fireworks for the New Year.”

You laugh at the corny line, choking off into a prolonged moan when he buries his face between your legs and presses his tongue flat against your cunt, the wet heat of his tongue pressing your damp thong into your sensitive clit.

You’re beyond thankful for the darkness of the VIP area and the loud music because you can’t contain the noises that Tyler’s drawing from your mouth. You tangle one hand in his hair - fuck, it’s so soft - and hold his face up against your cunt. The other hand reaches blindly for the magnum bottle of champagne you’d been sharing. Technically it’s the second bottle and it’s more than half gone when you tip it up to your mouth for a drink.

“I - ah! I don’t usually doooooh my god, right there - this,” you gasp, writhing over Tyler’s face. His nose is pressed against your clit and his tongue is flat against you, licking with purpose. You grind against his face, making sure the tip of his nose rubs against your clit.

“What,” he pulls back with a wicked grin that only grows when you whine and try to push him back in place with your grip on his hair, “get your pussy licked?”

The bottom half of his face is glistening in the strobe lights and you feel the blush rise on your chest knowing that your body did that to him.

“Um, yes,” you admit quietly, “and the whole, uh, stranger in a club thing too.”

His smile turns a little soft, eyes crinkling at the corners. “Happy to be your first then,” he kisses the inside of your thigh and lifts your leg so it’s draped over his shoulder and you’re spread even wider for him. You’re impossibly exposed to him and all it does is make you wetter. Tyler tilts his head back a little and opens his mouth, you instinctively pour some champagne into his mouth, the both of you laughing when it splatters onto his face and shirt, making the white fabric nearly see-through. He wipes a little at his face, fingers scraping at his beard, and he shrugs. “Was gonna get all wet and messy anyway.”

He holds his champagne covered fingers up to your face and you lick at his skin, sucking his fingertips into your mouth and letting them rest on your tongue for a moment before he pushes them a little further past your lips, until saliva is dripping down his palm.

Tyler’s head is back between your legs, a strong hang gripping at your thigh, his lips wrapped around your clit. He sucks at the swollen bud and your leg kicks out, the heel of your platform smacking against his back with an audible thunking noise. He grunts into you and you moan an apology, his fingers falling out of your mouth so you can take another gulp of champagne. The bubbles fizz on your tongue and burn going down.

He buries his wet fingers into your cunt, curling and pumping, and you bite down hard on your lower lip to keep from screaming. Not that anyone would hear you with how loud the music is in the club. You grind your hips against Tyler’s face and feel him smile, the coarse hair on his face scratching against your inner thighs when you subconsciously try to close your legs around his ears.

“Gonna kill me,” he pulls back and mutters, nipping at the junction of your thigh. You jolt when his hands squeeze at your asscheeks, the scrape of the sequins on your dress adding more overwhelming sensation. He adjusts your thigh over his shoulder, his other hand trailing down your leg and wrapping around your ankle. He pulls back a little and you whine at the loss of sensation. “I like these,” he says, his fingers tapping against the sparkle of your platforms. “When I fuck you later, I want you to keep these on.”

You laugh, about to deny that this is going any further than the club, when his mouth is back on your cunt, tongue stiff and warm as he licks at your clit. All thoughts are gone from your head, aware only of the pleasure Tyler’s giving you. His hands are all over your body, fidgeting from your thighs to your ass and back again, calloused fingertips ghosting over your skin and making you shiver.

You close your eyes against the pleasure building in your body, tears pooling at your waterline. How the fuck did you go this long in life without realizing that you’ve never had a satisfying orgasm? And some random, gorgeous man in a club in Vegas is the one to satisfy you over and over? It’s a shame this is a one night thing.

—-

Sunlight streams in through the windows and you screw your eyes shut tighter, nausea rolling your stomach even though you haven’t moved. It’s like an ice pick is stabbed into your temple, the throbbing somewhere deep in your brain a harsh reminder that you’re not 21 and immune to hangovers anymore.

You press your lips together and lift your hand to rub at your temple, trying to keep your movements as slow as possible so you don’t vomit. Something hard and sharp knocks against your brow bone and you crack one eye open to see what the hell it could possibly be since you don’t remember putting any jewelry on last night. A huge twinkly diamond ring stares back at you from your finger.

The ring finger.

The left ring finger.

…fuck

Your eyes fly open and you ignore the wave of nausea and shooting headache to look around the hotel room. The unfamiliar hotel room. The sheets slide down your chest, exposing you to cold air and making you shiver. Your nipples pebble from the cold and you look down, eyes widening at the little bruises and bite marks scattered over your chest and stomach. You’re naked under the sheets save for a pair of black boxer-briefs looped around one thigh, like you tried to put them on last night and got tired halfway. The fabric is soft and worn and they’re absolutely not your underwear.

“Fuck!” You yelp, gaze landing on Tyler’s prone form in the bed next to you. He’s flat on his back, one arm thrown over his face, the other out to his side with his fingers curled in your direction. “Oh my god!”

His chest is bare, tattoos a stark contrast against the white sheets and his tan skin. He’s got purpling bruises on his chest and stomach too, marks that you must’ve left on him. Marks that make a trail from his collarbone over his pecs, down his stomach, barely hidden by the sheet that rides low over his lap.

If you’re half wearing his briefs, he’s definitely completely naked from the waist down too. Before you can comprehend the thought, you wonder if you left marks lower on his body too.

Your head is moving around like it’s on a swivel, taking in all the details of the room that you’re pretty sure is Tyler’s. There’s a black suitcase in the corner and your dress is a shiny pile on the floor. Your thong tossed over the lampshade on the bedside table. You can’t find your shoes, until you notice them at the foot of the giant bed, left in a haphazard pile and you remember, faintly, Tyler’s words from last night - “When I fuck you later, I want you to keep these on.” They look like they were discarded in a rush, one ankle strap not even fully pulled from its buckle. His clothes are everywhere, tossed in a trail from the door that speaks to how fast you were trying to get him naked.

The hangover is clouding your brain, making it feel like your head is stuffed with cotton, and you haven’t even begun to consider what the ring on your finger means. Maybe it was just a joke? It had to have been a joke.

Tyler shifts, grunting a little in his sleep, and reaches his hand out in your direction like he’s trying to find your body. His movement startles you.

“Ah, fuck!” You yelp, scrambling out of the bed, legs all tangled in the sheets. The briefs slip down your leg and tangle around your ankle. You kick your leg wildly, the black fabric going sailing across the room with the force of your kick. Frantically, you yank at one of the blankets crumpled at the foot of the bed and wrap it around yourself like a toga. Your hands shake a little.

Tyler stirs and blinks sleepily, stretching his arms over his head, giving you a show with how the black ink of his tattoos move. His gaze is unfocused when his eyes finally open, landing on your blanket-wrapped form. A slow smile graces his lips and he rasps, “hey, morning.” There’s a smudge of your dark lipstick on his cheek, partially hidden by his beard. A bruise is sucked into the underside of his bearded jaw and you notice, for the first time, the ragged red nail marks on his shoulders and biceps. He looks like he was attacked by a feral animal - and it’s a jolt to the system when you realize that feral animal had to have been you.

You can’t even find words, mouth gaping open and shut at him like a fish. Now that you’re standing, you finally stop for a second to take stock of your own body. Sticky between the thighs, sore like you’ve never been sore before - in a pleasant, well taken care of way. Your inner thighs feel raw and you know that when you look later, you’re going to find beard burn on the sensitive skin. You can already feel it on your chin and cheeks.

“What is this?” You hold your left hand out to him, the gaudy ring - because now that you’ve gotten a better look at it, it’s not a real diamond, thank god. It’s cubic zirconia or something cloudier than a real diamond and it’s a huge oval, spanning the entirety of your knuckle - glinting in the early morning sunlight.

Tyler squints at you, rolling onto his side before sitting up, either unaware or unconcerned that he’s completely naked and the sheet pools low enough in his lap that you can see the trail of dark hair leading down to his dick and the hair at the very base of him. You try to keep your eyes from looking, but he reaches a hand up and rubs at the back of his neck, making his bicep pop and the sheet move around and you’re only a woman, you can’t help yourself from looking. Your clit throbs between your legs, clearly remembering what happened last night even if most of it after getting eaten out in TAO is a little fuzzy to your brain.

“It’s a ring,” he replies simply, looking like his brain is trying to come back on-line too. He shifts his hand and his eyebrows lift. “Oh, shit. I’ve got one too.”

Your gaze lands on the band on his left ring finger. It’s yellow gold, or something cheap that looks like yellow gold, and you hate that your immediate thought is that it looks good on him. The band contrasts nicely with his skin and he spins it with his thumb, your eyes tracking the rotation.

A little chuckle slips past his lips and you blink at him. He takes in your expression and laughs outright. “Come on, you can’t possibly think we what? Got married last night?” His laugh is warm and too familiar for someone you’ve known less than twelve hours. “That’s a Vegas cliché if I’ve ever heard one.”

You shake your head. “Right, no. Yeah, I’m just being stupid. It’s just—“ you hesitate, glancing around the room again, avoiding looking at him, noticing the - oh god - four condom wrappers discarded on the floor. No wonder you’re so sore. The tenting of the sheet in his lap isn’t doing much to hide his morning wood, the shape of him obvious even with the quick little glances you’ve been sneaking. Four times. It’s a minor miracle that you’re not walking bowlegged.

Tyler stretches again and looks around for something - his clothes, his phone, who knows - while clearly not caring that the sheet is covering next to nothing. “Hey, do you see my phone?” He asks, drawing your attention back to his face. “Just wanna check the time.”

He’s remarkably chill and you’re starting to feel a little crazy for overreacting so much to silly rings bought in a drunken haze. There’s a phone on one of the little decorative tables in the corner of the room and you’re not sure if it’s yours or his, but when you pad across the room to get it, you step on a piece of paper, crumpling it under your heel. Leaning down to pick it up, you fall back on your ass in shock when your eyes land on the words at the top.

Clark County Marriage License

“You okay?” Tyler asks, sounding concerned.

“No,” you manage to squeak out the word around the block in your throat. There in black and white - your name and Tyler’s. Tyler Paul Seguin, apparently, if the document is to be believed. You feel your stomach lurch when you see the date on the license. Last night, New Year’s Eve.

How drunk had you been?

Who the hell had let you get married?

You’re so caught up in the implications of the piece of paper you’re holding that you don’t realize Tyler’s out of bed and squatting next to you, wearing his briefs, thank god.

“Whatcha got - oh,” he cuts himself off, reading the words over your shoulder. “Oh. Shit. Wow.”

He sits down on the floor next to you and you look over at him, eyes wide. “We actually got fucking married in Las Vegas,” you breathe, chest tightening in panic.

“I mean, maybe we didn’t?” He says hopefully. “That’s just a license, doesn’t mean we actually did it.” He taps his fingers absently over one well-muscled thigh, an irregular beat that you somehow sync your breathing to. With a huge effort, you drag your gaze away from his fingers - long and thick and the last you remember, stuffed up your cunt and dragging an orgasm out of your body - and steady your breathing. One hand presses against your chest, fingers digging into your skin like you could reach in and squeeze your heart back into a normal rhythm.

The phone on the tabletop starts buzzing and Tyler reaches up to grab it - “mine,” he says, glancing at the screen and jabs his finger to silence the alarm. He reaches his hand back up on the table and comes back with a handful of Polaroids. He splays them out like a deck of cards and you look at them. “Huh.”

Each picture is blurry as hell, but they’re unmistakably wedding photos. You’ve got a little fluffy veil on. Tyler’s shirt is unbuttoned past is sternum, but tucked neatly into his pants. He’s got you dipped back at the waist, kissing you dramatically. You’re on his back, holding a bouquet of flowers in the air as you kiss his cheek. He’s holding you, chest to chest, one large hand splayed over your bare back, your hand slid underneath his shirt. The Little White Wedding Chapel sign behind you and Tyler in one photo makes what happened last night unavoidable.

“I think we got married,” Tyler states the obvious and you burst into hysterical, gasping laughter. He looks at you, concerned for a beat before starting to laugh himself. It’s not funny at all, but if you don’t laugh, you think you’ll cry.

Once you catch your breath, you hiccup a little noise that sounds like a sob and carefully put the license up on the table. Tyler watches you and then glances back down at his phone, wincing at the time. “So, uh, hate to get married and run, but I have to go,” he taps his phone screen. “I’m on a flight to San Jose in an hour and I really can’t afford to miss that.”

You catch a glimpse of his lock screen and it’s a picture of him cuddling three dogs, which makes you feel marginally better because at least it’s not a woman that he’s cheating on and any man that has his dogs as his phone screen can’t be a total sociopath. A little bit of the knot in your chest unravels.

“San Jose,” you repeat, finally catching onto what he said. “Is that where you live?” You ask the question realizing you know nothing about this man that you’ve married. You didn’t even know his last name until five minutes ago. Oh god. You’re going to have to manage a time difference while filing for divorce. Your thoughts spiral out. Can you even get divorced in a state that’s not Nevada? You should know this, you’re probably the divorce expert in the room. He isn’t giving off divorced man energy, but do you give off divorced woman energy? You hadn’t thought about that and now it’s all you can focus on.

Tyler laughs a little, drawing your attention and stopping your panic attack. “No, thank god. I’m, uh, not to sound conceited,” he says sheepishly, rubbing at the back of his neck, “but you really didn’t recognize me?”

“Should I?” You frown, studying his face. Maybe he looks familiar? But in that way that most dark haired white men look alike. You’re almost positive that you’ve never seen him before.

“Fuck,” he mutters. “This is awkward. But I play for the Dallas Stars, the hockey team? We played Vegas last night, San Jose tomorrow.”

You cock your head at him, this new information sinking in. Dallas. Just thirty minutes from your place in Fort Worth. You’ve obviously heard of the Stars, you don’t live under a rock, but you’ve never been to a game, never cared about sports enough to learn any of the players’ names. It would be a weird thing to lie about, but - “prove it.”

“Prove it?” Tyler repeats incredulously. You nod. He frowns and looks like he’s trying to make a decision. After a second, he huffs a little laugh to himself and mutters, “well, it already worked once,” before unlocking his phone and typing away on the screen. A second later he holds it up next to his face, a Google search open on the screen. A headshot - Tyler’s headshot in a green jersey - looks back at you. He grins wryly, “proof enough?” The search bar at the bottom of the screen shows that he typed in ‘tyler seguin dallas stars headshot’ and misspelled his own name as ‘tylor’ - you don’t know why, but it makes you bite your lip to smother a laugh. The little typo is endearing.

You look back and forth between the screen and Tyler, long enough that he starts to genuinely laugh. “C’mon,” he teases, putting his phone down on his thigh, “you’re a tougher sell than security at the arena.”

“Okay,” you offer him a tiny smile, “I believe you. I’m just, um, a little overwhelmed. I don’t do this kind of thing.”

“Can’t say I’ve ever done it before either,” he replies, shoving a hand through his hair. “I’m going to be on the road for a bit, west coast swing, but if you put your number in my phone, I’ll have my lawyer start working on the paperwork.”

“Paperwork?”

He coughs a little awkwardly. “The divorce? Or annulment? Divorce though right? ‘Cause we obviously slept together,” he gestures at the condom wrappers, “so we can’t just sweep it under the rug. Like Ross and Rachel in Friends.”

“No!” The word slips out before you can stop it and Tyler frowns.

“We can annul it? My knowledge of ending Vegas weddings is pretty minimal.” He pauses and then as if to reassure you, says, “my knowledge of ending marriages in general is pretty limited too.”

“No,” you chew at your lip, “it’s still a divorce. But, fuck, this is mortifying. A second fucking divorce before I’m even 28. Good fucking job with your life.” You mutter the last bit more to yourself than to Tyler, tears welling up in your eyes. That would be the last thing you need, to tell your family and friends about this whole debacle. Literally a week after your first divorce is finalized, you go out and get married again. Drunkenly. In Las Vegas!

Tyler’s eyebrow lifts and he doesn’t ask the question he so clearly wants to ask. You scrub a hand over your face, nausea returning but you’re not sure if it’s the hangover this time or the way he’s looking at you.

“What if,” he says slowly, studying you carefully for a reaction, “what if, we just…didn’t.”

“Didn’t what?” You shift, the floor uncomfortable under your sore ass. The blanket wrapped around your body isn’t the softest and you’re starting to sweat a little despite the cold air pumping into the room. Tyler’s presence next to you is becoming distracting, the movement of his chest muscles, the rasp of his voice. Your body wants more of him.

“Didn’t get divorced…” he tilts his head at you, keeps looking you in the eye, even after your jaw drops and the blanket slips a little. “We could, I don’t know, just -“

“Stay married?” You finish for him, eyebrows up in your hairline. He nods, shrugs - why not? “Oh my god.”

Tyler’s phone vibrates on his thigh and he glances down at the alarm. It reminds you that you have no idea where your own phone is and you really, really need to talk to the girls. He jabs at the alarm again and looks apologetic. “I really do have to go,” he gets to his feet and holds out a hand to pull you up. A spark shoots up your arm when his fingers clasp around yours. He doesn’t let go right away, his thumb rubbing against the backs of your fingers. “Think about it,” he looks at you more softly than you think he really should be in this moment. “You said you don’t do this kind of thing,” he continues, “but new year, new you?” The tiny smile he gives you sends your heartbeat into overdrive and this cannot be good for your health.

“Drunk married in Vegas would be a really new me,” you reply faintly. His hand finally falls away from yours and you’re mildly concerned to realize that you miss his touch. Your fingers flex at your side.

His smile doesn’t waver and he reaches out to brush a piece of hair off your cheek, fingertips lingering on your skin. “I’ll be back in Dallas in two weeks. Think about it, I’ll take you to dinner and we can just…go from there.”

He says it so simply, like it’s nothing. Strangely enough, you do feel calmer than you had a few moments ago, Tyler’s steady calm rubbing off on you.

“Okay,” you nod, repeating yourself. “Okay. I’ll…two weeks.”

Tyler grins a little wickedly. “At least we know we’re good together in bed,” he teases, kicking at a condom wrapper with his bare foot.

A laugh startles out of your chest and you find yourself nodding in agreement. “I, ah, definitely agree with that,” you murmur, your entire face flaming with heat.

——

One Year Later - New Year’s Eve. Dallas. TX

Tyler greets you at the door, suited up and bouquet of flowers in hand. “Hi, Mrs. Seguin,” he grins at you.

“Mr. Seguin,” you laugh back, leaning in to loop your arms around his neck and kiss him soundly, nipping at his lower lip. When you pull back, you’re breathless. “Don’t you know it’s bad luck to see the bride before the wedding?”

His hands roam up and down your back, catching in the fabric of your sparkly white minidress, sliding up under the hem to knead at the flesh of your ass. He grins wickedly when his hands don’t find any fabric covering your ass. You smirk at him and wink, giggling when he pinches a cheek.

You lean into his touch with a contented purr. If it wouldn’t make you late for your own party, you’d pull him inside the house for a quickie. You’d already had sex this morning - a wedding present, according to Tyler when he’d given you back to back, mind numbing orgasms with his tongue and dick before you’d returned the favor with a blowjob that had rendered him speechless for twenty minutes - but you would never get enough of being in Tyler’s arms.

“Does it count as bad luck if none of the guests know they’re coming to a wedding?” He asks, eyes twinkling with mirth. “Or a vow renewal, technically.”

The last twelve months have been a little insane and honestly, looking back, you don’t think you’d have it any other way.

After getting dressed quickly, Tyler had found your phone wedged in the cushions of the hotel room’s armchair. The battery was nearly drained but your screen was lit up with more than a hundred texts in the group chat with the girls and nearly as many missed calls. When you had finally called back, all three had shrieked that they were twenty minutes away from reporting you missing. You’d kept the little surprise of legally binding matrimony to yourself, but had admitted to the girls that you’d spent the night with Tyler and that he lived in Dallas and that you were going to see where it went. The flight home was full of whispered shrieking and more questions than you had honestly had answers for at the time. The gaudy engagement ring was buried in the bottom of your toiletry case, acting like the tell-tale heart, blood rushing in your head every time you thought about it.

When you got home, you’d shoved the ring in your jewelry box, determined not to think about it, but found yourself absently running the pad of your thumb over the underside of your ring finger when you let your mind wander to Tyler.

After Tyler had returned to Dallas from his two week road trip - during which you’d basically internet stalked him and spiralled out quietly about not filling for a divorce right away - you’d finally decided to give it, give Tyler a chance. He’d texted nearly every day he was gone, sending stupid jokes or a picture of something he thought would amuse you. Worst case scenario, you filed for divorce and went through the process all over again. By the time Tyler took you out for dinner at a quiet dive-y taco place in Fort Worth where you could actually hear each other, both of your memories of the wedding night had returned, although yours were coloured in a hazy film that made the whole thing seem like a fever dream.

The little ceremony had been officiated by an Elvis impersonator, another Vegas cliché, a fact that you’d learned when Tyler had found another Polaroid in his wallet when he was on the plane to San Jose. You’d cracked up when he finally showed it to you in person - Elvis in the middle, clearly past his prime, with you and Tyler on either side of him doing your best air guitar? Maybe?

“I think I’m trying to do an Elvis hip swivel,” Tyler had laughed.

“Whatever it is, it looks like we’re both mid-seizure,” you’d nearly snorted your drink out of your nose. Looking at the photographs was fun now, a little warmth building in the pit of your stomach, not the tight, nauseous coil of anxiety that you’d experienced when you had first seen them.

Other wedding details were still a little hazy, like where you had picked up the rings or what exactly the ceremony had consisted of, beyond being declared man and wife and being told to kiss and cement your “burning love.”

(What you remembered and what Tyler made sure you didn’t forget was just how good you were in bed together. The four condom wrappers on the floor were not an anomaly with Tyler.)

He’d gotten you tickets for games, right up against the glass so he could skate by you during warmups and tap his glove against the glass to capture your attention. After a few games, once you’d decided to really commit to the relationship and were official within your friendship circles, he picked up the habit of blowing you a kiss, grinning when you’d blush.

He’s really good at his job and you’re only a little surprised to find that you actually love watching him play. It’s horrific watching him get hit or tossed into the boards, but when he scores a goal and celebrates in a big hug with his teammates you’re always the first one on your feet, screaming your head off.

You’d brought the girls to a game early on in your relationship and all three of them had been surprised at how comfortable you were in the arena and how quickly you’d picked up the rules of the game. It was hard to explain that you weren’t just trying to make a regular relationship work, but a whole marriage. The stakes were just a little bit higher than usual.

The league had a break for the All-Star Weekend in early February and Tyler had surprised you with a trip to Mexico, where you’d soaked up the sun and gotten to know each other better, giving him all the sordid details about your divorce and sharing stories from your childhoods over icy margaritas and more tacos than your body knew what to do with. He’d told you about his early career, his misbehavior in Boston and how much he loved being in Dallas. The long weekend was slow and lazy, leaving so much time for the two of you to really talk and get to know each other. The experimental sex in a hammock on the beach was the icing on the cake.

After that, it was like a switch flipped and all you wanted to do was be with him. Truthfully, you sometimes forgot that you were thrown into the relationship with a marriage and settled comfortably into dating Tyler, folding each other into your lives, moving in with him, telling him you love him and hearing him say it back, cheering him on when Dallas made it all the way to the Western Conference Finals before being bounced in seven games by, of all teams, the Vegas Golden Knights.

Summer break meant a road trip to Whitby to meet Tyler’s family. A drive that should’ve been two or three days took nearly a week because you kept making random stops to see the silliest monuments advertised on the highways. You’d nearly killed him driving through Illinois, convinced this was the end of the relationship and you’d have to pull the trigger on the divorce, and then he had surprised you by stopping at a corn maze and getting lost in it with you almost immediately. Your stomach had hurt from laughing with him and making out like teenagers.

The trip to his hometown had been beyond fun, getting Tyler to show you his childhood haunts and seeing all the baby pictures of him with his mom telling you stories too.

On the drive back to Dallas, halfway through Oklahoma and in the middle of the night, while you’re pulled over on the side of the road to look at the stars, Tyler asked you to marry him. Again.

This time you had the moment committed to memory, the way Tyler’s hands had been shaking slightly with the black velvet box popped open in his fingers. The way Tyler’s speech rambled, like he hadn’t prepared anything or had forgotten his words just as he started talking, explaining how your relationship had started in an unconventional manner, but he couldn’t picture his life without you now. The way you’d started crying almost the second he had turned to you on the hood of the car with that gorgeous ring glinting at you in the moonlight and how you hadn’t stopped until he’d slid the ring home on your finger and kissed you like he’d never kissed you before.

Over the months, the wedding plan shifts and changes, from a summer wedding so you can have a real ceremony and party, the whole nine yards, to what it actually ends up becoming - a quiet inside joke with the two of you in order to keep your anniversary date, a New Year’s Eve party for your closest family and friends to be surprised at midnight when you and Tyler recite your vows.

It’s much easier to plan a party in six months than it would’ve been to plan a wedding.

Jamie Benn, Tyler’s best friend and the dark haired man in Vegas you had initially thought was just you seeing double, is tapped as the officiant, getting ordained online and getting really into his role, not knowing it’s basically all just a front. He just loves that he’s the only one in on the secret, constantly wearing a shit eating grin any time any of your other friends discuss wedding plans for a summer wedding that’s not going to happen.

“I can’t wait to see everyone’s faces,” you admit, hooking your hand in the crook of Tyler’s elbow and letting him lead you out to the car. He does a double take when he notices your hand.

“What’s that?” He taps on the ring nestled on your ring finger. Your original wedding ring from a year ago had been replaced with a real diamond, still an oval, but smaller and more tasteful. But that’s not what you’re wearing right now.

Your lips twist up in a sly smile. The huge, gaudy cubic zirconia is back on your finger, your second engagement ring tucked safely in its box in your drawer. “It didn’t feel right to get married without it,” you admit, flexing your fingers against his arm so the fake gem will sparkle.

Tyler’s laugh is contagious. “Everyone’s going to ask about it,” he warns you.

“Let them,” you shrug. “I want to wear my original ring on my anniversary.”

Hours later, when the surprise has been pulled off and Jamie announces that Tyler may kiss his bride, you fall into your husband’s arms, kissing him with all that you’ve got.

Fireworks go off outside the venue, the countdown to midnight at less than a minute.

“Happy anniversary, wife,” Tyler grins against your lips, quiet enough that only you can hear him.

Around you, the countdown continues, seconds ticking away until it’s January first.

“Happy New Year, husband,” you whisper back, laughing when he dips you back dramatically.

The party continues well into the early hours of January first, you and Tyler having had the foresight to rent out the venue for twice as long as a normal party. You spend the night flitting between dancing with your friends and cuddling up against Tyler’s side, tucking yourself under his arm and wrapping your arm around his waist. Your cheek is pressed against Tyler’s side, the wrinkled fabric of his button down soft under your skin. Your fingers play with the buttons, slipping them from their holes one by one until his shirt is more unbuttoned than not.

Tyler smirks down at you, his hand rubbing an arc over your hip, rucking up the fabric with each upward stroke of his hand, exposing your thigh inch my inch. “Undressing me already, wife? Can’t wait for the wedding night?” He winks at you and you laugh into his chest.

“I think that ship has sailed,” you murmur, sliding your hand under the unbuttoned shirt and over the smooth skin of his stomach, ridged muscles dancing under your touch. You yawn a little, the weird combination of overtired and wide awake making your brain buzz.

Tyler holds you close and leans down a little to whisper in your ear, “want your anniversary gift?”

“Mmm,” you hum, “I thought I already got my gift this morning?”

“That was a wedding gift,” Tyler teases. “This is an anniversary gift, and no, it’s not in my pants.”

You giggle and look up at him, resting your chin on his chest. “Shame, I like what’s in your pants.”

“I’ll give you that later,” he promises, dropping a kiss to your forehead. “Come on, I stashed it in the coat closet.”

He tangles his fingers with yours and leads you off, getting stopped every few feet by someone else who wants to gush about what a great surprise the party was. “Just couldn’t wait another minute to marry her,” Tyler grins in response every time, making you laugh at his side, the inside secret of your Vegas marriage a warm fizz in your chest.

When you finally escape off to the coat closet, you try to loop your arms around Tyler’s neck and lift up on your toes to kiss him. He obliges you happily, cupping the back of your head and giving you a searing kiss before pulling away. You whine, “I thought we were sneaking off for a wedding night quickie?”

“I literally told you that your gift wasn’t in my pants,” Tyler laughs, kissing your cheek. “Why would you think I wasn’t being serious?”

Your hands find their way underneath his shirt again, fingertips digging into the muscles of his back, and drawing yourself closer to him. “Because I wanted you to be kidding,” you reply. “A little coat closet quickie would be a fun way to start the year.”

“And normally, I’d agree, baby. But I think you’re gonna like this gift,” he leans forward and reaches behind you, giving you the opportunity to press your nose against his collarbone. When he pulls back, he has a fairly large, flat wrapped package in his hand.

“What’s that?” You ask, taking the gift from Tyler as he leans back a little, shoulders resting against the wall, a satisfied smile playing on his lips. The package is lighter than you thought it would be.

He nudges your foot with his, “open it.”

“I didn’t get you anything,” you chew at your lower lip. Neither of you had really discussed the fact that it’s your anniversary or gift giving and now you’re a little embarrassed that you hadn’t thought about it. You sway a little on your feet, fingers ripping a little at the corners of the paper until it crumples under your touch and the corner of the gift pokes through.

Tyler shakes his head. “Don’t care. It’s kind of something for both of us anyway,” he says and you wait for the little joke, the tease that you can let him unwrap you later, but it never comes and that’s how you know your husband is about to make you cry with whatever this gift is.

You can feel Tyler watching you as you pull back the paper - leftover Christmas wrapping that’s so clearly been wrapped by a man, too much tape and messy folds. God, you love him - and expose a frame. It takes you a second to process what’s behind the glass, but when you do, you hiccup a little gasp and tears well at your lash line.

Behind the glass is your marriage license with last year’s date and your pair of wobbly signatures. The Polaroids you’d taken that night surround the license and you trace trembling fingertips over the image of you kissing Tyler on the cheek.

“Tyler…” your voice cracks on his name and he gives you a soft little smile.

“This year his been batshit insane, baby,” he leans into your personal space and cups your cheek, rubbing his thumb over your cheekbone. “But I’m really glad you’re the one I drunk Vegas married.”

Tears are sliding down your cheeks and you nod, “I’m really glad you’re the one I drunk Vegas married, too.”

His laugh is muffled by all the coats surrounding you, but it’s warm and it feels like home. He pulls you into a hug, the frame smushed between your bodies and digging into your stomach, but you don’t care. Tyler’s hand curls around the back of your neck and you wipe at your eyes with the back of your wrist, black mascara smudges streaking across your skin. You giggle a little wetly, “I’m such a mess, oh my god.”

“Everyone will just think you dragged me off so you could have your wicked way with me,” Tyler teases, smirking at you.

“Coat closet quickie for the newlyweds,” you reply, grinning. You settle the frame on the floor, the back of it leaning against your leg, and really wrap your arms around Tyler’s neck, pressing a kiss against the hollow of his throat. The spice of his cologne invades your nostrils and you press your nose harder against his throat, enveloped in his warmth.

Tyler rests his chin on the top of your head and hums, rolling his hips against yours lazily so you can feel the bulge behind his fly. “I could give you a real quick one, just to make sure you don’t have to lie,” he ducks his head to whisper in your ear, kissing at the hinge of your jaw. His hand slides down to graze your ass and you’re nearly ready to say yes, suddenly desperate for him, when a loud bang on the door has you jumping back, heart pounding from the shock, nearly cracking Tyler’s chin with your head. The frame bounces off your leg with your movement, falling to the floor with a little clatter that you hope isn’t broken glass.

“Fuck!” He yelps and you clap your hands over your heart, gasping. “Jesus, who is it?”

Jamie’s voice is choked with laughter as it comes through the door. There’s a slight slur to his words too, as he shouts, “stop fucking on everyone’s coats, we’re doing body shots.”

Your jaw drops open and Tyler rolls his eyes at the interruption. He bangs on the door with a hand and shouts back, “fuck off! I’m trying to spend some time with my wife.”

“Actually,” you say slowly, a little smirk forming on your face, “body shots could be fun…”

“Yeah?” Tyler lifts an eyebrow at you, palm flat on the door.

“Yeah,” you confirm with a wicked grin, “you know I like the way champagne tastes on your skin.”

Tyler’s eyes shut like he’s in pain and your gaze slides down to see the bulge in his pants grow. “You’re a fucking menace and I’m so fucking glad you’re my wife,” he mutters, grabbing you around the waist and hauling you out of the coat closet, nearly knocking Jamie over in his hurry, your shrieked giggles drowned out by the music from the party.

The next morning, afternoon really by the time you finally open your eyes, you wake up with half of your body draped over Tyler’s completely naked one. His hip and thigh is securely wedged between your legs, his morning wood hot against the outside of your thigh. One of your arms is in the sleeve of Tyler’s button down, the rest of the fabric draped over your back like a blanket. The hangover pounds at your temples and the sunlight blinds you and it’s such a deja vu moment you almost think you’re back in Vegas, right until the moment Tyler’s hand twitches against your lower back and he rubs his bearded chin against the top of your head. You melt against him, sighing happily.

“Anniversary party slash vow renewal every New Year’s Eve?” Tyler rasps against your hair, sliding his hand up your spine.

You hum into his skin, “as long as you get me electrolytes and a greasy breakfast on January first, I’m in.”

“How about a headache relieving orgasm first?” Tyler rolls you gently onto your back, already kissing a path down your body. You shiver with each brush of his lips and your legs fall open for him to slot himself between them. He rests his chin on your hip bone and looks up at you with a soft look in his eyes that doesn’t match the hungry smirk that curves his lips.

“What?” You ask, angling your neck to look at him, raking a hand through his hair, making it messier than it already was. There’s a little streak of glitter against his temple and you brush your thumb over it, wiping the smudge away.

He shakes his head a little. “Just thinking about this past year,” he lifts one shoulder in an awkward shrug. “How fun it’s been, how glad I am that we did the surprise last night.”

“Getting soft on me, Seguin?” you tease, poking at his side with your foot. He wiggles away a little from your touch, ticklish even though he won’t admit it.

“You know I’m anything but soft for you,” he laughs, nipping at your skin. “Let me prove it.” He presses a kiss against your hip bone and then lower and then there’s no more thoughts, just you and Tyler and the rest of forever stretching out in front of you.

[bettyfrommars]

Candy Necklace

biker!older!Steve Harrington x fem!reader

⚠️/tags: 18+Only, oneshot, smut, dry humping, mutual masturbation, biker!Steve, bit of oral, pet names, dirty talk, ejaculation, teasing, slight mention of what reader is wearing, mention of being in a biker MC. Word count: 2k

This is a companion piece to my older!biker!Eddie series I'm on Fire because we all deserve some biker!Steve. Can be enjoyed as a stand-alone smutty piece, but I do reference some of the details of his life from the series that might seem irrelevant to porn. It's the mid-late 90's, Steve is early 30's and reader is 21+.

A/N: When I initially envisioned this piece, I figured biker!Steve would be yanking someone's panties to the side in a dark alley (which he still could do) but, idk, patient, adoring, slightly sub Steve really does it for me.

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

Steve’s above you, arms braced on either side of your shoulders, his head dipping down to suck and nibble a bead from your candy necklace. You’re both fully clothed, but your shirt has a low neckline, and he is still wearing his Coffin Kings leather biker cut over his t-shirt. Pieces of his hair flop against your chin and stick to your lips as you giggle, fingers hooking down into his belt loops.

“It tickles,” you say, wiggling, his tongue darting into the hollow of your throat to curl around another sweet, round morsel, slurping gently, patiently taking one at a time. He pulls the elastic cord with his teeth, crunching down on single one of the candies, still chewing as his plump mouth returns to your salty wet skin, tongue twisting and flicking to scoop up another.

“But I’m hungry,” Steve breathes on a chuckle, his hips grinding against you, almost involuntarily. He crunches into another one and his low moan of pleasure makes your nipples hard as he plants kisses up the length of your throat, until he gets to the base of your chin, and then he returns to feeding.

Your cheeks got hot as your pussy fluttered, and one hand went to his head, sliding your fingers into his thick head of hair, initially unaware of the affect this playful act would have on you.

Without any real conscious knowledge of it, just a body acting out of need, your hips buck up to meet his and a whimper parts your lips.

Your physical response made Steve lift his head, back teeth still chewing on a bead, breath hot and sweet, his chin glistening wet. He presses all the way up so that his face is in line with yours from above, elbows locked, and you cup your hands around his forearms that are covered in tattoos, gazing up at him.

His hips rotate against yours and the bed squeaks. “Yeah? You like that, sweetheart?”

This bad boy biker with the baby face and deep, chocolate eyes had finally worn you down after months of flirting and got you to go on a date with him. A few sporadic days a week, he worked the front door as a bouncer for a bar called the Velvet Hammer, a place you walked by on your way home from work. At first, you thought he was obnoxious. He’d stop whatever he was doing, or cut off whoever he was talking to when he saw you coming to ask if he could buy you a drink, or to tell you that he noticed that you changed your hair, and he thought it was pretty.

He was harassing you, basically, but he did it in this wholesome, genuine way that was almost awkward, and it made you smile despite of yourself as you turned the corner each time, out of sight.

One night, when he pushed a guy out of the way just so he could say hi to you, you called his bluff and went over with your hands stuffed in the pockets of your coat and agreed to take him up on that drink.

Flustered, he stumbled in to get you a stool at the bar that was close to him, so that he could still talk to you while he worked the door. While the jukebox played Sex & Candy by Marcy Playground, you learned that he had a son named Oliver that he was over the moon about, and a best friend named Robin who he co-parented with since Oliver’s bio mom left when he was a baby.

The pride in his face when he talked about his son was what helped you turn a corner on your opinion of him.

You accepted his invitation to dinner a few days later, and that’s when you told him that you hadn’t had sex since your last relationship, in which you had been cheated on and hurt ruthlessly, and the idea of sexual intimacy too soon made you nervous. To your surprise, he respected this and never tried to push you.

So, there the two of you were on your bed; three dinner dates, one coffee meet up, and two make-out sessions later. He was such a dominant force in the streets---rolling up on his beast of a Harley to pick you up, covered in tattoos all the way up his neck, a cigarette pinched between his lips. But, in private, for the most part, he let you be in control; craved it, even.

“Yeah? You like that, sweetheart?” He asked, rolling his hips against yours, the use of the pet name making your core throb.

You didn’t have the words for how powerful your attraction was to him in that moment, but you blinked a few times as you met his gaze and nodded, pupils blown, lips parted.

Steve’s eyes searched your face, enamored with you more every day, and then he lowers his mouth to yours, tenderly sucking your bottom lip, nuzzling your nose, mumbling sweet words against your mouth, his cock aching as it strained against his denim. Your cores are locked together, each of you arching your pelvis in to meet the other, bodies wordlessly begging.

This was new for Steve. He could count on three fingers the amount of times he hadn’t jumped right to getting his dick wet within the first day of dating a girl. You made him want to savor the moment, you made him want to make it special, even as his balls bleated their joint discontent.

The elastic candy necklace you wore as a silly gesture was all but forgotten as you slid your hand down to touch yourself over your clothes, maintaining eye contact with him.

“Do you want to...watch me?” You whisper, unsure, feeling the outline of his huge cock on the back of your hand, rock hard in his denim, as it dawns on you that you’re not dealing with an average-sized man, and some of his “cocky” personality is explained.

Steve gulped: were you suggesting what he thought you were suggesting? “Oh god, fuck yes,” his voice trembled a bit, the need to bury his cock inside of you was making his vision blur, but to have the honor of watching you pleasure yourself? He’d never been so ready.

He moves over so that he is sitting next to you on the bed, eagerly taking his leather kutte off and tossing it on the chair in the corner. He’s propped slightly up against the headboard, legs long, and he takes your chin in his hand to lean down and kiss you again. You catch a glimpse of the Coffin Kings MC insignia on the back of his leather where it hangs on the armrest, realizing the caliber of bad boy you had in your bed; his knuckles criss-crossed with scars to show that he was no stranger to violence. There was also a scar cutting into his eyebrow, and one on his chin.

He watches intently as you push your pants down your legs and kick them to the ground. You’re just in your t-shirt, candy necklace, and underwear now; you cup your fingers down over the cotton material to feel the soaking wet spot that has developed there, rubbing the pads of them in slow circles.

Steve whines deep in his throat, biting his bottom lip, one hand clamping down to palm his erection, the tip of his cock already juicing with pre-cum. God, at this rate, he worried it wouldn’t take much; he might just cum right there in his jeans like he was 14 again.

You look over at his bulge, and then you tilt your head back to meet his eyes. “You too, if you want,” you say as you bypass your underwear and dip two fingers down and curl them inside, your back arching a bit. “I think it would be hot if you did it with me.”

“Yeah?” He leans down to kiss your forehead and then your lips as he jerks the buttons of his jeans open, freeing his cock with a groan,. “You want me to cum with you, baby?”

“So bad,” you gasp, soaking wet fingers coming out of your warm hole to rub your clit again.

Now it’s your eyes that are locked on him: fist wrapped around his whale of a cock to spread a few fresh pumps of pre-cum down his shaft to wet it, two of his chunky, silver rings clinking together. He spits in his palm and lubricates the rest of the length, and then he stretches it down before his eyes return to you.

“Fuckkk, baby, your panties are soaked,” the sight made him stroke his tip a little faster, shivering, breath hitching in his chest, bracing one hand on the bed between the two of you, metal jean buttons folded open, jingling on his wallet chain.

The way his cock was so ready, so swollen for you, made your hand swipe faster on your clit, taking sharp breaths, eyes flicking from his cock to his face.

The back of Steve’s head hit the headboard as he watcheed your fingers paw at your sweet spot and then dive back down inside, curling in and fucking yourself making sloppy wet sounds that have his hips fucking the air.

“I love watching you baby, you’re so fucking beautiful,” he said on a moan as his hand went from long, slow strokes to shorter yanks at the tip, milking a rapidly approaching release.

You bent your knees and planted your feet on the bed, bringing your hips up to meet your hand, fingers fucking deeper beneath your underwear as you met his eyes. “Tell me how hard you want to cum inside of me,” you mutter with sticky lips, pale pink saliva juice from the candy necklace dripping over your clavicle on a mix of saliva and sweat.

Steve convulsed a bit at the thought, swallowing hard, making himself slow to longer, slower strokes. His head rolled back and forth on the headboard before finding your eyes again. “I wanna cum so deep and hard inside of you that I drip out of you for days,” he hissed, edging the tip of his cock, watching your fingers work your core, wishing it was his mouth.

“I want to taste you so bad,” he breathed in a strangled cry, throat muscles flexing as his leg jerked. “Fuck, I know you’ll taste so good.”

It was then that you felt the wave coming and your fingers latched to your clit, working faster, cursing as you exposed your throat, concentrating, head sinking back into the pillow.

Steve could’ve cum then, but he edged himself a few more times, groaning, balls aching, not wanting to miss your release, heels digging into the bed.

You peeked over at Steve’s red tip, aching to explode, thinking of how bad your hole throbbed for him, and then suddenly, the velvet walls were crashing around you, jolts of orgasmic electricity bursting, making your limbs jolt.

You were mumbling, “Stevie ba-by...cum-cumming so har-r-r-r-d.”

Nothing could’ve prepared him for “Stevie baby” rolling off your tongue like that and, just as you arched back in your ecstasy, Steve’s grip raced to meet you, grunting, tip exploding with bursts of cum, milking it with his fist as he cursed, yanking out every last drop with the whimper of your name on his lips.

Twitching in the aftershock, moans ebbing in your chest, you looked over as Steve finished, squirts of his seed pouring over his hand, leaking onto the tufts of hair below, his head tilted back.

That was when you rolled towards him and took hold of his hand, pulling it close to lick at his fingertips, around his rings, tasting him, cleaning him up. You met his eyes before you took the glistening tip of his cock in your mouth, and he nodded, so you sucked him in, drinking him clean while he moaned, hovering on the edge of the precipice, about to fall hard for you.

“Clean me up?” You ask as you put your head back on the pillow, licking your lips, stretching the candy necklace into your mouth like a tiny, sweet, pastel gag. Steve’s mouth watered as he slid your underwear down so he could bury his face between your legs, greedily sucking every last drop of your cum.

You bit down on a candy and crunched it, letting the bits melt in the back of your throat as his tongue darted inside of you, owning you, clutching your thighs, growling, hungry for more, his cock getting hard again in the process.

[canirove]

Rice, Rice, baby | Chapter 11

Previous chapter | Next chapter

Masterlist

“Welcome to St. George's Park, Olivia.”

“Please, call me Liv.”

“Liv, perfect. I'm Emily, but you can call me Em.”

“Nice to meet you” I smile.

“Now, let me show you around and introduce you to everyone else.”

I did it. I said yes to their offer and here I am, at England's national team headquarters. And it doesn't feel real.

I can't believe I've just been welcomed by the girl I always see on those arrivals videos, that I am crossing the same doors and walking through the same hall the players always do, that I am about to basically live with the national men's team for a week. 

“Did you receive the email with the schedules and all the rules?” Emily asks me.

“I did, yes.” The rules. Like, for example, personal relationships inside the facilities not being allowed. 

“Perfect. Here is your room key and your credentials” she says, giving me an envelope. “I've also added a little map of the building in case you need it during the first few days, this place can be a bit of a maze” she laughs. 

“Oh, thank you. That's very kind of you.”

“You're welcome” she smiles.  

━━━━━━❃━━━━━━

“And this is your room” Emily says after we are done with all the introductions and she's showed me around. “141.”

“Nice number” I chuckle. “Thank you for accompanying me.”

“No problem. If you need anything just call me. You have my phone number, right?”

“I do.”

“Great. I'll leave you so can get changed and chill for a bit before the craziness starts.”

“Thank you. Again.”

“Welcome to the team, Liv” she says, giving me a quick hug before disappearing through the corridor.

“Ok. Let's go” I say to myself before opening the door.

The room isn't the biggest one, definitely nothing compared to the one I was able to enjoy in Paris. But it looks pretty cosy, a big window at the end of it that leads to the training grounds. Maybe I'll be able to watch them from there. And like Emily told me on our way here, my uniform is waiting for me on the bed.

“I told them to give you a pair of leggings but also some joggers, there are days when we like to be more comfortable than others. And you also have a hoodie, a jacket, and a pair of different t-shirts so you can pick whichever you prefer” she said.

But what I wasn't expecting to find next to my clothes, was a bouquet of flowers and a Cadbury chocolate tablet. 

Welcome to the team, Liv! - Your favourite boys ⁠♡

Cute.

━━━━━━❃━━━━━━

“Here she is! My favourite barista!”

“Hello, Madders.”

“I'm so happy you said yes to this, Liv” he says while giving me a hug.

“Let's hope I don't end up regretting it.”

“You won't, you'll see. Did you get the flowers?”

“I did, yes. Thank the boys for me.”

“The boys?” Madders says with a confused look. “It was just me and Declan.”

“What? I thought that my favourite boys meant the whole team.”

“No, no, no” he laughs. “Those flowers are just from me and Declan.”

“And the chocolate?”

“There was chocolate too?”

“That was all me” someone says behind me. Declan. “Hello, Liv. Welcome” he smiles as I turn around.

“Hi” I say, getting once again lost in his eyes.

“I think I'm gonna go see if Chilly has arrived. I'll leave you alone so you can catch up… lovebirds” Madders says, whispering the last word and running away before I can hit him.

“He is so annoying.”

“Yeah” Declan chuckles. “So, how are you feeling? Ready to have to see us 24/7?”

“Yes… and no. There are players I want to see 24/7, and others that I don't want to see. At all.”

“And in which category do I fit in?” Declan asks with a cheeky smile, taking a step forward. He is so close now that I can smell his perfume all around me, and that always is so dangerous. 

“Pick a guess” I manage to say.

“I think that, for example, a certain City player with a questionable haircut and big calves fits the not seeing him at all category.”

“As if his haircut was the only questionable thing about him” I snort.

“So mean, Olivia” Declan says, closing the space between us a bit more, now making me focus on his lips. On how much I want to kiss them. “You can't do that here.”

“Uh?”

“Kiss me, Liv. Not here.”

“I wasn't thinking about…”

“Of course not” he laughs. “But there is a place where you can do it. No one goes there.”

“Declan, I can't break the rules on my first day.”

“No one will see us. Come” he says, starting to walk away.

What do I do? Do I go with him? Do I run in the other direction? There is no one around, but what if…

“Liv, are you coming or not?”

“I… Ok” I say, taking a deep breath and following him. Following him and losing him all at the same time. “Declan? Declan, where did you go?”

“Here” I hear him say before a hand grabs my arm and drags me inside a room I hadn't seen, closing the door behind me and pushing me against it. “I've missed you, Liv.”

“I…” But I'm not allowed to say that I've missed him too, those lips I've been dreaming of kissing just a minute ago finding mine. 

━━━━━━❃━━━━━━

“Declan… Declan, you are gonna be late.”

“Just one more kiss. The last one.”

“You said that five minutes ago” I laugh.

“Sorry” he smiles before kissing me again.

We've been at St. George's for a few days now, and every time neither of us is busy, we find ourselves meeting in this random room that is kind of hidden and making out, telling each other about our day between kisses.

“Ok, enough” I say, managing to stop him. “Those are enough kisses to wish you good luck for the rest of the season.” Because that was his excuse to meet today. That he needed me to wish him good luck for the game. 

“I beg to differ.”

“Declan… no” I say, putting a finger on his lips when he moves forward once again.

“I'm going to eat you.”

“Declan!” I laugh when he bites me.

“You taste so good, Liv.”

“What doesn't taste good is the bench, which is where you will be if you are late to catch the bus.”

“Urgh, fine” he says, finally giving up. “But you have to promise me something.”

“What now?” I say, rolling my eyes.

“Don't fall asleep until I'm back.”

“No, not happening. The moment the game ends, I'm gone. I have an early morning tomorrow because I have to make sure you lot have your coffee ready.”

“Well, that's a shame. Because I know I am scoring tonight, and that when I'm back I'm gonna want to celebrate” he smirks.

“You…” I'm pretty sure that what he has in mind to celebrate that possible goal, isn't having a drink together. 

“You and I, Liv” he whispers, caressing my cheek. “If you want to, of course.”

“I… I do. But here?”

“Do you trust me?”

“Yes” I nod. 

“Then wait for me awake” Declan says before kissing me again.

━━━━━━❃━━━━━━

“Don't fall asleep, Olivia. Don't” I say to myself. But it is impossible. 

The game is a snoozefest, no one has scored, and Declan won't be doing it since he was already subbed off after feeling something on his hamstring. But even if nothing happens tonight, I want to be awake and call him after the game is over, ask him how he is feeling. Will I manage to do it?

━━━━━━❃━━━━━━

“I’m so sorry about last night, Declan. I didn't manage to stay awake and I didn't hear my phone when you called me.”

“It's ok, don't worry” he smiles. A tired smile that, mixed with his bed hair, makes me want to cuddle him until he falls asleep again. He's never looked cuter.

“How is your hamstring feeling?”

“It doesn't seem to be anything serious.”

“Oh, great.”

“But see how all those kisses weren't enough? Now we have to reschedule our date.”

“Shh!” I say, looking around. We are at the cafeteria, half the team already there waiting for Southgate.

“They are busy drinking your wonderful coffees, Liv. They don't care about us” Declan chuckles.

“Just in case. If there is something I've learnt this week, is that you guys love gossiping.”

“Heard anything juicy?” he asks, arching an eyebrow. 

“See? You just proved my point” I reply, making him laugh, some of his teammates look our way. Great, just great. “You should go join the others.”

“I prefer your company.”

“Declan…”

“Ok, ok. But don't forget about you know what.” It is the only thing I've been able to think about since he suggested it, so I think I won't be forgetting about it, no. “I personally can't wait” he winks before walking away and leaving me holding onto the counter as if my life depended on it. 

How can something so simple turn me on so much? Urgh.

[octuscle]

So this one Black guy I've been working out with said he needed a new boyfriend, and now I'm swelling up with muscle and fat. My skin's gotten a lot darker, too. What's happening?

Malcolm is a picture of a man. A nubian god. Ebony black, flawless body. Works as a personal trainer here at the studio. Actually, you have no idea why someone like that is training with a linnet like you. But you didn't question it. You enjoy it as long as it goes well.

The chocolate protein shake after training tastes bitter. And sweet at the same time. It's incredibly rich. Malcolm empties his canister in one go. You can't quite manage it. But almost. And then you have to burp. Malcolm laughs. And you say goodbye with a fist bump. You can feel the questioning looks from the other guests. What does the Adonis want with the linnet?

I'm neither particularly clever nor particularly successful. The training with Malcolm is actually starting to take effect. But you still have arms like twigs. And your pale, pimply face with the red hair isn't exactly an eye-catcher either. Nevertheless, you got a decent job as a developer in the administration department of a large insurance company. It pays good money. And you work in a nice team where you are largely left alone. Thank God. Because things are different today. As you develop your code, you notice how your hands change. Your fingers are getting meatier. And the skin darkens. You grin. Is it the chocolate milk? Hardly. More likely the light in the office, you suspect. You're having a good run today. Work is going well. Normally you need your peace and quiet, but now you feel like listening to music at work. You put on your airpods and ask Siri for some chill tunes to help you concentrate. At lunchtime, you order something from the Indian restaurant. In the evening you had sushi. You've forgotten the time. You look at your watch. Obviously it's time to go home. Apparently you're fantasizing. When did you start wearing such a fat gold watch? And the back of your hand really looks like you probably do after three weeks of beach vacation. In other words, like a normal person after a three-week beach vacation. You'd probably be red as a sheet. Barry White is booming out of your fat overears. It's time to go home and go to bed.

While you're brushing your teeth, your moustache is bothering you. You didn't have one this morning. And the whiskers are black. But your teeth are dazzling white. But maybe it's only because of the dark color of your face. Damn, it must be the protein shake. Your pyjama bottoms are tight around your thighs. And the T-shirt is stretched across your chest. When the alarm clock wakes you up at 05:30, it doesn't. You ripped it off your upper body in your sleep.

Malcolm is waiting for you with a big grin and a chocolate protein shake. As you fist-bump, you notice that his skin is barely any darker than yours. You're lifting more than ever. You're sweating like a pig. But this is the best workout ever. As you rub the sweat from your forehead, something is different. Something is missing. Your hair. Your hands are calloused. Like from years of hard workouts. You look in the mirror. The horseshoe on your face makes you look older. Is that why Malcolm calls you "Daddy"? You just grin about it. Nevertheless, you need to take a shower now. Malcolm, because the first paying customers are about to arrive. You, because as head of department you want to be the first and last in the office.

Normally you can easily wrap towels around your hips in the gym. Today it only lasts a few steps. Then it slips to the floor. No wonder, with your roid gut padded with healthy fat. As you pick up the towel, your gaze falls on your reflection in the mirror. Your cock is dangling between your legs. As big as a beer can, even though it's flaccid. And it's as black as a piece of coal. Like your bushy pubic hair. You're no longer a pimply twenty-year-old Irishman. You're black African-American prime beef. A sweaty black piece of prime beef. You need to take a shower.

Malcolm has soaped himself up by the time you arrive in the shower. Damn, your cock has a life of its own. He slowly gets up. Malcolm grins. And drops the soap.

Pic found @roughridingrednecks

[gravedigginbbydoll]

Hawkins University : The Munson Edition

AN: Hey y'all! I'm sorry for the brief hiatus, my birthday was last weekend and my family came to visit last Monday. From now on, I will be posting on Fridays! Anyways, we're diving more into Eddie and Bug feeling some physical attraction ;) We're about halfway through! (Don't worry, once Eddie is over we get Steve + I would be down to do blurbs of Eddie and Bug <3 ) Anyways, I hope you enjoy! Also pls remember reblogs and comments are appreciated ! I love feedback!

→ cliches: friends to lovers, heavy use of nicknames instead of Y/N, we're all just struggling college kids, Music Tutor! Eddie, Resident Assistant! Reader, good girl x bad boy, instant connections, 'I don't trust most people but I trust you', 'are we friends or more?', and 'I can't believe you're such a slut that you have a special dtf drawer...'

→ warnings: mature topics, drinking and drug usage, strong language, bullying, mental health, discussion of suicide and self harm, mature thoughts, eventual smut, minors dni

→ pairing: modern!college!eddie x college!fem!reader

<Previous Masterlist Next>

Chapter 5 

Eddie’s POV

Eddie didn’t want to admit it at the time, but he was so nervous about having you over. Sure, you were over every weekend and usually it was the two of you alone, but never were you staying in his room. You always stayed in the living room or kitchen, both of you out in the open. He had sort of asked you in a spur of the moment need of a distraction. He would usually bother Nancy or Steve, but Nancy was headed to visit her little brother in the nearby town, while Steve had planned on sleeping over at Rob’s for their weekly movie nights. So he asked you, which wasn’t usually a big deal. But Eddie didn’t just like you or think you were cool. Eddie thought you were gorgeous. He often shook off the thoughts because he knew you were often stretched thin with both of your jobs and he was on the verge of failing a course, a relationship out of the cards for both of you. Plus, Eddie knew you were such an exemplary student and a high achiever. He was embarrassed to admit he felt ‘lesser’ around you sometimes due to being a ‘super senior’ in high school and being older than you despite you both being Sophomores. Sure, being 22 in comparison to being 19 or 20 wasn’t a whole lot, but Eddie still felt some shame. 

Eddie raced around his room after his quick shower, panicking and trying to tidy the place a bit. He wasn’t extremely messy, just often disorganized. He hid his cuffs and ropes which had been left out after a previous encounter, along with putting away clothes and trying to make the room at least look presentable. You were headed to your dorm to grab some clothes and such, sure to be headed his way soon. When Eddie could finally see the floor and felt secure in knowing his special toys were in their box and shoved under the bed, he began to calm a bit. 

Well…at least for a bit. But then his thoughts began to wander. 

Did you wear a bra to bed? Would you be okay with sharing the bed? Or should I take the couch? Would you cuddle? What if you did, without a bra, and- Shit. 

Eddie sat at his desk, his cock half hard, mind swirling with sinful images picturing you without a bra, one of his t-shirts on you. He imagined the way your breasts would move without the restrictive fabric, the way they’d feel against him with only a thin layer between the two of you. His cheeks flushed as he groaned softly, trying to shake the thoughts away. Eddie sighed and looked toward his phone, cursing himself for not thinking this through. He’d have to be cautious so as to not be so turned on with you here. 

He saw his cracked screen light up, his heart thumping at the sight. He picked up the phone, able to read the message despite his very fucked up cell. 

Bug: On my way!

He sighed softly and decided to head into the kitchen, readying the movies and snacks. There were sour gummies for you and chocolates for him, along with a bowl of popcorn and sodas and beer. He laid them out while staring at the movies he had picked. Most were cheesy retro slashers, both of you bonding one weekend over a love for goofy horror films like Killer Klowns From Outer Space and Frankenhooker. Eddie rented both films and was excited to giggle with you over the campiness of it all. He had placed all the snacks on the coffee table and made the movies ready to go when you knocked on his door, surprising him. 

He came up, opening the door, only to feel his chest tighten and his cheeks heat. 

You stood there, face free of the makeup you sported earlier, and clothes much more casual, a pair of pajama bottoms and an oversized shirt on your upper half, sneakers on your feet. You smelled fresh, like you had quickly showered and washed off all the sweat you had built up that night. But Eddie was really flushed at how gorgeous you still were dressed down. He also noticed one thing he knew he would have to pretend he wasn’t noticing. 

You didn’t wear a bra. 

You beamed at him, your smile causing the rest of the blood not already there to travel lower and his stomach to flutter. 

“You gonna let me in, Munson?” You joked, eyes glittering with mischief. 

Eddie stepped aside, grinning sheepishly, ushering you in. 

Good God, he was fucked. 

You and Eddie sat down on the couch, giggling at the ridiculousness of Killer Klowns and Eddie doing his best to make you laugh at his impersonations. By the end of the third film of the night (which had been Elvira Mistress of the Dark, whom you and Eddie both had a crush on as kids), you were both crashing from your sugar high and yawning, with you rubbing your eyes sleepily. Eddie ushered you to the bathroom, letting you brush your teeth and wash your face. You used the restroom, only to groan and open the door, clearly looking embarrassed. 

“Eddie…I may have to go home.” 

Eddie walked over, frowning down at you. Only your head was peaking out of the bathroom, only leaving him to guess what was wrong. 

“What’s wrong, Bug?” 

You looked like you wanted to melt into the floor, making Eddie’s stomach twist. Were you okay? He felt a sense of fear wash over him as he worried that maybe he pushed you too far. 

“Y-yeah…I just, ugh, I- I got my period,” You mumbled, looking away. 

Eddie felt a wave of relief and sighed, smiling softly at you. “Oh thank God. I have stuff in the bottom cabinet closest to the toilet. So don’t worry about it. But I’ll drive you back if you feel uncomfortable.” 

You looked up in surprise and smiled softly, still looking a bit embarrassed. “Oh. Okay…Uh, I’ll-I’ll try to stay.” 

Eddie smiled and went back into his room, changing into his comfortable sweats and loose cut off Metallica shirt. He was in the process of fluffing his pillows when you came in, looking at him inquisitively. 

“What?,” He cocked his head at you, confused. 

“What’s up with the minor convenience store in your bathroom cabinet?,” You teased, sitting on the bed by him. 

Eddie froze up. You were referring to ‘the baskets’. Eddie would be honest, he knew he ‘got around’. He used sex in college as a form de-stress, a way to break away. He started last year as a freshman when he discovered that girls and guys alike in Hawkins liked rough around the edges men who wore makeup and played in bands. In high school, Eddie was ‘The Freak’ and consistently treated like some kind of weirdo. But in Hawkins? He was viewed as a devil's food cake, delectable and sinful. The ‘baskets’ had started as a little thing that Eddie did when having people over, so he could be the most amazing host. There was shampoo, deodorant, tampons, pads, midol, ibuprofen, salve, and more in the little gray tubs, all organized and neat. The ‘baskets’ were split into masculine and feminine products, seeing as Eddie swung either way. He wasn’t ashamed of it, but felt something stir in his stomach about you knowing about his hookups. He hadn’t had many once meeting you, aside from Chrissy a few times. But she never came over, and he’d truly slept with her maybe 3 times. 

“It’s…Uh,” Eddie scratched the back of his neck sheepishly, looking away. “It’s for when people come over.” 

You nodded, looking away nonchalantly before your eyes began to grow wide in realization, probably remembering the morning after pills stashed beside the period products. Eddie felt his stomach twist as you laughed a little, your eyes glinting with mischief. 

“Eddie. Darling. Light of my life. You have a Hookup Basket?!,” You giggled, looking over at him in shock as he pouted. 

“Hey, I just want to make sure people are comfortable when they are here,” He defended himself weakly, blushing red. 

“Eddie Munson, you are a manwhore. Lovingly, you are such a manwhore. This is the first time I have ever heard of a hookup basket,” You teased, Eddie pouting at you. 

He hit you softly with a pillow before getting up and heading to the bathroom, cheeks still red as apples. 

“Whatever,” He grumbled, pouting still. 

“Be sure to floss, manwhore,” You teased, leaving Eddie to groan in the bathroom as he brushed his teeth. 

You’d never let him live this down. 

Eddie sat in his bed next to you in the middle of the night, mind racing. He was woken up by a nightmare of failing all his classes, only to show up at a party naked, both you and Chrissy there laughing at him. It was a silly nightmare, truly, but Eddie couldn't help but be terrified of the reality. He was staring at his phone and reading a book when you sleepily sat up, eyes barely opened. Eddie would’ve thought it was the cutest thing ever if he wasn’t still panicking over his life choices. 

“Eds? What’re you doing up?,” You grumbled, eyes squinting at him in the dark. Your voice was slurred and drowsy still. 

“Jus’ had a nightmare ‘s all…Go back to sleep, Bug,” Eddie whispered softly. 

You sat up a bit, frowning at him. “Nightmare? Is everything okay?” 

Eddie sighed, putting down his phone and looking at you. The room was dark, only the dim light of the moon shining through the blinds to let him make out where you were. His chest felt tight. Maybe he could tell you what was wrong. 

“Have you ever wondered if you made the right choice? Or whether or not everyone was actually right in what they said about you?,” Eddie asked, heart thumping. He didn’t feel like you would relate, but he still wanted to get his feelings out. You stared at him silently, eyes begging him to continue. 

“I spent all this time in high school struggling only to finally make it to college at 20 and fail. I hate my fucking major, but going into just music is ‘impractical’ and I’m just going to wind up flunking and dropping out, disappointing Uncle Wayne by turning into my father-” Eddie was surprised by the blurred vision and tears falling down his face. His voice was cracking and shaking. He hadn’t spoken to anyone about this really, not even Steve. 

Eddie felt you grab his hand, softly squeezing. He sighed, tried to regulate his breathing, before continuing. 

“I almost signed up for Music Therapy when I first applied here. But everyone I spoke to suggested Production. Wayne, my advisor. And even the idea sounded cool. I could earn money and get to work with big names I love or meet new ones and help make music. But…god…it feels so soulless. I feel dread walking into those classes and the only thing that has kept me going is guitar or those snotty and bratty kids I teach at The Ghost Note, “ Eddie laughed humorlessly. His hands were shaking as tears still fell down his cheeks slowly. “I just don’t know what to do. I’m supposed to be the first gen student. I don’t want all of Wayne’s work to be for nothing.” 

You stayed quiet for a moment, rubbing the back of Eddie's hand soothingly before speaking. 

“Look, Eds…I don’t know much about music or even production. But what I do know is that you are an amazing teacher. I see your eyes light up when I finally nail something and…honestly? It’s an amazing feeling. And sure, you’re older than most sophomores, but who cares? Some people don’t get a degree until they’re like 40! And you’re blazing the trail for your family. Honestly, I think you’d do amazing in Music Therapy or Education. And plenty of people change their major. Don’t just stick to it because it’s ‘practical’. You deserve to love what you do, Eddie Munson. And no matter what you decide, whether it’s that you want to drop everything and suddenly move to California and be a rockstar, or you want to teach ‘snotty nose brats’ how to use music as an outlet like you do, I’ll be proud.” 

Eddie felt his heart be squeezed and his stomach twist. Could he follow his heart? You sure made it seem so. Eddie had always assumed he needed to ‘man up’ and do what was needed, but you made it seem so easy. Maybe he could turn this around. 

“Thanks, Bug.” 

“You’re welcome, Stinky. Now go the hell to sleep, you barely get enough as it is,” You yawned, laying back down and still facing Eddie. 

Eddie scrunched up his nose, frowning. “Stinky? What the hell do you mean? You always ramble about how I smell like apple pie!” 

You giggled softly, face already nestled in the pillow. “You definitely farted in your sleep at one point. I heard it when I woke up to go pee.” 

Eddie felt his cheeks heat to unimaginable degrees as he huffed and laid down, turning his back to you. “Liar. I did not,” He grumbled. 

You sighed, laughing a little before tugging gently at his messy bun. “Go the hell to sleep, Stinky. We can debate your farts tomorrow.” 

Eddie tried to keep a pout on his face but couldn’t stop the slight smile as he heard you begin to doze off before him, your light snores filling his room. 

He’d tease you about it in the morning. 

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