#hello WHY did this blow up
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festeringthoughts · 9 months ago
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heard a hc abt how floweys default face is him copying chara once. so,
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phantom-of-the-ruckus · 6 months ago
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Redo WIP
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Okie dokie, I had to redo the pose, but thankfully it wasn't too hard. i took references this morning (as well as some for prop some Grell Sutclif, and a few Bassy ones drawings)
I am on the coloring phase of the drawing so far, but I wanted to give an update. I will return to the profile thing eventually, as I did get exhausted from the Hello Puppet's constant schedule, and I got hyperfixated on Black Butler.
I think for sure my next drawing will be Sebagrell, as I made a rough sketch. Not sure when It would be posted, but I'll certainly will draw and sketch more black butler (there's a high chance I might do a colorless sketch of Prince Soma)
I think this will be my fully inked in months, as inking does drain me, but this time I enjoy it quite a bit. I will try to extend more what I draw, and maybe-ish expect some Simpson content as I am actually working on a fic and a small surprise (already plotted) but probably would release about next year due to being a special case but I'll explain it when times come
Anyway, here's the WIP of Riley walking down the hall. I'll try to get it out on Monday as soon as I can, so be prepared to check it out.
I am currently on a HP break from writing, but I'll eventually get back to the works and try to finish one of the main stories (prop. Once upon a Midnight dreary, but I have to rework on a chapter)
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nomaishuttle · 1 year ago
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guys im scared...
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thesoundofmadness · 2 years ago
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Why is there discourse on when it's okay to block people in the tags. block whoever the fuck you want. it's your experience you control it
Ok some more bullshit for twitter refugees who need to learn the Tumblr Etiquettetm
Change your blog icon. Do not leave it as Tumblr default bc you will be seen as bots. Also helps if you change your URL to something fandom related/unhinged. urls like sarah-x-lynn will cause people to think you are a bot and block you
There's no algorithm. Whatever pops up on your dash is yours to deal with. Unfollow/block people as you please.
Again, there's no algorithm. The content on this site is user-circulated. Abuse the reblog button.
Abuse the tags. If there's something you wanna say on a post but don't want to intrude, use the tags.
Follower numbers don't matter here
There's no character limit on posts or in blog descriptions. You can post the bee movie script 50 times if you want. Go ham
This isn't twitter or tik tok or whatever. There's no need to censor yourself. Outright admit you want to kill a us senator, no one will judge you.
If you're gonna trigger tag something, don't censor it. Don't use like #r/pe tw use #rape tw
Lastly, don't be a dick to people. Abuse the block button for all it's worth.
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technicolorxsn · 2 years ago
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oh what the fuck is wrong with this dude
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thyme-in-a-bubble · 5 months ago
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some things are worth it
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a/n: so, because i haven’t been able to stop thinking about this guy, especially in this au (literally had multiple dreams about him this past week) i rewatched the longest ride for the yeehaw vibes and this fantasy popped into my head.
summary: “oh, yes you do,” you tilted your head, “you flirt with me all the time, I know you do, I’m not some sheltered little virgin, I know what it looks like when someone likes me!” you felt the truck roll to a stop as you spoke. 
warnings: farmhand!tyler owens x farmer’s daughter!reader, smut, farmer au, bull rider!tyler, takes place before the previous fic in this au, secret relationship, bull riding (except i'm a suropean who has no idea what she's talking about, so apologies for the errors), love confession, secret relationship, kissing, clothed sex, car sex, size kink, manhandling, dry humping, dirty talk, handjob, fingering, thighjob, pussyjob, just the tip, overstimulation, penetrative sex, unprotected sex, creampie, why do i keep writing for this dude in the middle of the night?
word count: 4238
∼ gentle reminder that feedback, but especially reblogs are the way you support writers on here ∽
masterlist | join my taglist
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“Hey,” Tyler cast you a glance as you came bouncing towards where he still worked, tinkering with the tractor that had quit halfway down one of the farm’s golden fields. 
“Hello,” you blinked down at him. A rusty toolbox was planted in the wheat by his kneeling form as he fiddled away at the machinery.
“You need help with something?” he kept on twisting a bolt. 
“Oh, no,” a shy giggle bubbled out of you, “my mom just sent me down here to invite you to stay for dinner tonight. She made a pie for dessert and everything, or well, we did, I helped… it’s rhubarb, if that can help sway you.”
“Rhubarb, eh?” he puffed out a short chuckle. 
“Yeah…”
Briefly glancing back over his shoulder at you and the way your flowy dress caught on the wind, he uttered, “I’d love to, Y/n, but–, uhm… I can’t tonight.”
“Right,” you exhaled, a nod swiftly accompanying your words, “you already have plans, of course…”
“Tell your mamma I’m sorry,” he tried to soften the blow, “next time, yeah?”
“Yeah…” you breathed, and as he returned his attention back to the machine, surely assuming that you’d bid him adieu and saunter back towards the main house, you instead shifted to lean against the tractor, “so… what are you doing tonight?”
Briefly glancing up at you, a soft smirk appeared on his lips as he purred, “you’re awfully nosy.” 
“Just tell me what your plans are,” you rolled your eyes. 
“Bull riding,” he informed you, “I ride on occasion, tonight being one of those times.”
Sucking in a breath, you uttered, “of course you do…”
Halting his tinkering with a chuckle, he pressed, “what’s that supposed to mean?”
“No, you just got adrenalin junky written all over you, so it checks out,” you gestured towards him and he let out a small laugh, retroactively confirming your accusation. As he shifted to look for a different tool, you opened your mouth once more and asked, “can I come?”
“Come what?” his concentrated gaze didn’t meet yours. 
“See you ride.”
Tyler’s eyes then snapped up to find yours, “you wanna come see me ride?” hesitation suddenly washed over his usually confident features, “uhm… I’m not sure your daddy would like that.”
“What? Me being around a bunch of rowdy and probably drunk strangers or going somewhere to see you?”
A warm chuckle then rumbled in his chest as a gentle shake found his head, “you’re trouble…”
“Is that a no?” you tilted your head in hope. 
“No…” he slowly exhaled and met your eye once more, “no it is not.”
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You cheered for him at first when his name was announced and you caught a glimpse of him behind the fence, he even found your eyes in the crowd a moment as you clapped in anticipation. But then when it actually began, you stopped breathing entirely. It didn’t matter that he only had to stay on the beast for a few seconds, your heart still wouldn’t start beating again even after his boots were back on the ground and a proud grin stretched his lips. The petrified expression plastered on your features didn’t fade even when he found you afterwards and offered you a ride back home.
“You okay?” his deep timbre ripped you out of your stormy thoughts. 
Twisting your neck to blink over at him behind the wheel of his truck, you hummed, “huh?”
“You’re not usually this quiet,” he pointed out. 
“Oh… I’m just tired, I guess…” you lied, averting your gaze before you then heard yourself utter, “hey, can I ask you something?”
“Shoot,” he held his eyes on the road. 
“How is it that you haven’t been hurt yet doing all of that?”
“Oh no, I have,” a soft chuckle bubbled out of the daredevil, “just not hard enough to stop me from getting back up.” 
A murmur then escaped your lips, just beneath your breath, “either that or you’re just too determined for your own good…”
“Maybe,” he cast you a glance and smirked slightly at the embarrassment that washed over your features at the realisation that he’d heard you, “but then again, determination isn’t always a bad quality to have.”
“It is if it could get you killed.” 
“Oh, how unromantic of you,” he puffed, “I could think of a handful of ways dying would be worth whatever goal you were going for,” his eyes momentarily flickered back to you in the passenger seat beside him. 
Holding his gaze a second before he redirected it back upon the dark road, you felt goosebumps tingle your flesh. 
“Hey Tyler?” you breathed, unsure if you were able to stop the words about to flow out your mouth. 
“Yeah?”
“Are you ever actually gonna do anything?” your vulnerable question was barely audible. 
Not yet catching onto your subtext, he inquired, “about what?” 
Staring over at him, you uttered, “me.”
His eyes immediately fluttered back to find yours, gazing back at you a second before it faltered, “I–… I don’t know what you mean...”
“Oh, yes you do,” you tilted your head, “you flirt with me all the time, I know you do, I’m not some sheltered little virgin, I know what it looks like when someone likes me!” you felt the truck roll to a stop as you spoke. 
His firm grip stayed on the wheel long after the car had halted.
“Y/n, I–…” he tried, though gave up in a soft sigh. 
As he refused to meet your stare, you felt your stomach begin to flip.
“Oh…” you then breathed, blinking down at your hands as they fiddled with the fabric of the sundress that you wore, “unless I apparently don’t, I–… you know what? Forget it, I’m sorry,” your eyes squeezed shut at the mortification, “let’s just go back to the farm and pretend I didn’t say anything…”
Though his grip didn’t shift away from the wheel, didn’t drift down to twist the key and restart the engine. Instead, to your surprise, you saw him in your periphery twist towards you before you felt his hands come up to cup the sides of your face and pluck it out of hiding. 
Pulling you towards him, he then pressed his lips to your own, rendering you reeling to claw your way out of the stunned pit his bold actions had cast you into. 
As one of your palms slowly floated up to rest against the back of one of his, a soft sigh flowed from your form as you melted into his warmth. 
However, before you sank in and lost yourself completely, you felt him withdraw, though still remained close, letting his nose ghost against your own as he exhaled, “this is a really bad idea… we shouldn’t… I can’t afford to lose my job.” 
“Why would you think you’d lose it?” your fingers curled around the back of his hand in a plea to keep his touch glued to your heated cheek. 
“Have you met your father?” he scoffed softly, “I should be grateful if he only fires me and doesn’t outright kill me.” 
“He wouldn’t do that.” 
“You sure about that?” Tyler half-joked before slowly retracting even further. 
Blinking back at him, your lips still tingled from his kiss as you quietly said, “…I thought you were the one who just insisted that some things are worth dying for… I guess you just have to decide whether or not I could be worth that kind of risk…” 
A gentle chuckle then bubbled out of him as he gazed back at you in amazement, “you sound like a fair maiden 500 years ago,” twisting his fingers and tangling them in your own.  
Puffing out a laugh of your own, you defended, “well you started it!” before you felt one of his palms slide to the nape of your neck and tug you back in for another kiss. His lips felt like fire, though the slow smouldering kind that licked you up and ignited your entire soul, “if you don’t think it’s worth it,” you breathlessly uttered against his kiss, “then you should probably stop kissing me like that…” 
As a gentle smirk tugged at his mouth, he answered you not in the form of words, but instead drifted his hands down your frame and scooped you closer, plucking you up and lifting you into his lap, wasting no time at all to claim your lips again.
It didn’t take long after you settled above him, the wheel of the truck poking the lower part of your spine, that the slow peck evolved into something more, something else. Something that had muffled whines crawling up from the depth of your lungs and vibrating against his tongue as yours desperately danced against his own. Something that had you rolling your hips and grinding down against the hardness poking your panties so perfectly beneath the billowy fabric of your dress, the material of which had begun to ride up as Tyler’s wild touch began to wander over the curves of your frame. 
Panting into his mouth, your head started to lull slightly as you rocked down against him, the sensation being nearly too much to stand in the way it was both overwhelming yet also not at all enough. Nevertheless, if he gave you the chance, you’d surely be able to cum just like this if he let you, if he told you to desperately rut against him like some animal in heat, then you would, because that was just the effect he seemed to have on you. He was always able to turn your brain off with but a glance and nearly cause you to faint if he ever flashed you a dazzling smile. 
To say you had it bad was the understatement of the century, but evidently, and thankfully, you weren’t alone in the predicament. 
Snaking a hand down in the non-existent space between your frames, you found the bulky buckle of his belt and began to undo it. 
“Please,” you panted, your tone sounding downright pathetic, “I wanna–, can I touch you?”
And before you could fumble to do it, Tyler didn’t hesitate to undo his jeans and seize your hand, stuffing it into his pants and guiding your fingers to engulf his girth, squeezing them lightly around himself for but a moment before his touch then faded and he left you to your own devices.
“Oh, fuck–,” he growled, his hot breath fanning against your skin, “just like that.”
His cock throbbed in your palm as he kissed you once again and let his wide hands raked down to your ass, kneading your softness as he groaned against your lips.
But he didn’t let your zealous touch stretch out for that long before you heard him crack the door directly to his left open. His grip on your bottom locked securely as he got out of the truck, effortlessly carrying you with him as he made his way around towards the back.
His hold on you stayed fast as he flipped open the bed of the truck and plopped you down on the ledge. A soft giggle bubbled out of you, even as your hands came up to cup his jaw and he slotted himself in between your parted thighs. 
“Shit…” he exhaled as his gaze fluttered down to spot the damp spot decorating your underwear, neatly on show as your sundress had ridden up even further. Your legs dangled slightly off the edge as his touch then reached down to trace the mark of desperation, your bottom lip swiftly getting trapped betwixt your teeth as he rubbed you through the soaked cotton, “guess you really do have a thing for me, sweetheart,” his teasing touch traced your core as the sodden fabric clung to you, “I mean, not that I didn’t already have my suspensions…” 
“You knew?”
“You’re not exactly subtle when it comes to these things,” he chuckled before letting his fingers dip into your waistband, “it’s cute,” he smiled as your eyes fluttered when his digits swept through your folds, scooping back up to your puffy pearl as it buzzed beneath his caress, “I always enjoyed all the random little reasons you came up with just to have an excuse to talk to me.”
“Okay, I know they weren’t always that smooth,” an embarrassed heat sparked in your cheeks, “but it’s a lot harder than you’d think it is.”
“Oh, I know,” he stated casually, grinning at the way your eyes suddenly grew, “what? Did you really think I just happened to always have some work in the barn whenever you went for a ride?” one of his long fingers then eased into you, causing your mouth to fall open in a silent gasp. 
“Wait, seriously?”
“And the time I needed your help learning the system in the tool shed?” another one of his digits found its way inside of your cunt, rendering you a panting mess in his grasp as he leisurely pumped his fingers in and out, stretching you till your pussy sang out for him, “I already knew where everything was.”
The reply that was ready on your tongue swiftly fizzled out and became a forgotten relic as his touch then dissipated and instead floated down to where his jeans were already half undone. Tugging it the rest of the way open, he then stuffed his hand inside and freed his cock. Like a moth to a flame, your eyes couldn’t help but stare, yearning as you watched his cock throb in his tight fist. 
“O-oh, fuck…” the curse flowed out your lungs as your gaze stayed glued, nearly drooling as he suddenly hooked his grasp behind one of your legs and yanked you closer, causing you to tumble back onto your forearms as he manoeuvred your core that much closer to him. Hooking his fingers in the material of your panties, he slid them down your legs and, to your amazement, stuffed them into his pocket. As he then began to tap the hefty weight of his length down against your puffy petals, causing glossy strings of your desire to cling onto him and keep you ethereally attached, your eyes snapped back up to find his and the same whimper left your body once again, “oh, f-fuck…”
Trailing the bulbous tip through your wetness, he teasingly nudged the head against your swollen clit fiercely enough to make your whole frame twitch beneath him. 
“God… you feel so good…” he groaned, staring down at how his fat cock slid through and parted your glistening folds.
“Uh, Tyler–,” you begged hazily, your little hole winking every time he denied it any attention, “p-please–”
“What is it, baby?” he cooed smugly, “you want me to fuck you?”
“Uh-huh,” you nodded foggily, your gaze flickering back down to watch his teasing. 
“You wanna know what my cock feels like inside your pretty little pussy, huh?” his touch then dented your thighs, pressing both of your legs together, enclosing them around his girth and resting your ankles atop one of his broad shoulders. 
“P-please–”
“Is it all you’ve been thinking about?” the softness of your thighs interlocked around him lend him to snap his hips against yours and freely fuck your folds, the underside of him sliding against the seem of your cunt, “what’s been occupying that brilliant brain of yours?” he smirked and you couldn’t help but rock back against his efforts, “because it’s all I’ve been thinking about… how warm you must feel around me, how tight, how fucking wet, how–, fuck!” he then moaned as the way you’d needily tilted your hips up towards him lend his length to accidentally catch your leaking hole and sink in just the slightest bit till he halted his movements.
A shuttering gasp escaped you as well at the sensation as he’d nearly caused tears to roll down your cheeks from how badly you wanted him. 
As he caught your eye, his grip digging into your legs in order to hold on to his last strand of self-control, you panted up at him just as he was about to pull back out, “don’t stop.”
Staring down at you, absorbing your every reaction, he slid the tip back out, but so painstakingly slow that it caused your eyes to roll in your skull. 
“But what if I did though? What if I just stopped, right here, right now? Just drove you back to the farm and left you a needy little puddle just like this?”
“No, don’t stop! Don’t–, I–…” your walls clung around his girth, “please just keep going, it can just be the tip, I just–, don’t stop…”
When just the memory of him kissed your entrance, he gently sank back in and stuffed the bulbous head inside your cunt, “you sure you just want the tip?” he slowly found a pattern, fucking you with just the essence of him, “you sure you don’t wanna feel me so deep inside of you that you won’t be able to walk afterwards? That you’ll still be able to feel what we did for days and days?”
Blinking up at him, your legs trembling against his chest, you breathed, “I–…” till your dizzy head began to rock in a nod. 
“Yeah?” he cocked his head and flashed you a smug smile, “then beg for it.”
“Please fuck me–”
“What was that?”
“F-fuck me–”
“What, like I am right now?” he rolled his hips to just shyly plug you up. 
“No, fuck me for real,” your words felt not your own as they desperately flowed out of you, “fuck me exactly like you’ve been dreaming of since we first met, since you first–, ah!” all of the air was then forced out of your lungs as he slammed the remainder of himself all the way inside, stretching you wide of him and letting the tip, the very part of him that had been driving you mad, kiss the deepest part of you and cause your eyes to flutter shut. 
Your knees bent and crumbled down to curl up beside your chest as he meticulously slid halfway out, only to jam his dick back inside. 
He was practically growling above you, sinful grunts rhythmically flowing from his lips at every one of his frantic thrusts.
“Oh my god,” you cried beneath him as your cunt swiftly began to flutter around him, “you f-feel so–, so–, g-good!”
“Oh yeah?” he smirked and then perceptively asked, “are you gonna cum?” leaning down over you as he kept up his efforts. 
You tried to offer him an answer, but in the blissful abyss he’d cast you down in, you could only nod and squeeze your eyes further shut. 
“Then look at me, baby,” you sensed his fingers curl around your cheek, his reach dipping into your hairline, “be a good girl and look at me when you cum around my cock,” and when you managed to force your hazy eyes to blink back open, he stared back down at you as your cunt clenched down around him so fiercely that you nearly forced his girth out entirely, “there you go, fuck…”
But as your high began to melt away into sensitivity, the blonde farmhand didn’t slow his efforts in the slightest, moaning above you as he also was too close to cum to simply stop.
“Tyler, it’s too–,” you whimpered, your thighs shaking on either side of his frame as the creamy aftermath of your orgasm created a ring around the base of his cock and aided his erratic efforts, lending the entirety of his length to plunge back into you with such ease, even as your walls quaked and squeezed tightly around him. 
“Shh, you can take it,” he uttered hazily, “fucking take it, fucking–, ahh!” his hips then shuttered as he tumbled over the edge and pumped you full of his hot load. 
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When Tyler one day had an errand to run, some thingy he had to pick up at a neighbouring farm, you hadn’t really paid attention to that part, you had kinda just stopped listening after the discovery that you would get to tag along simply because the neighbour knew you better than him. 
So, once you were both waiting on the ground for the farmer to return with the item, just a curious look to make the time pass by morphed into the pair of you full-on wandering around and being more nosy than what was good for you. 
Though the snooping halted once you pushed open the door to the westernmost barn and discovered a DIY contraption that tickled Tyler’s nostalgia. 
It was a tin barrel, strung up with ropes and tied to a few beams, though he still had to open his mouth for you to fully understand how it was a homemade training tool for when you first began learning how to ride a bull.
By then, some of the fear you’d felt the night you had watched him ride had overflowed and spilt out, which surely also was the reason behind why he suddenly insisted on you hopping on and letting him try to teach the terror out of you. 
“So, like that?” you asked, one of your hands hovering above the one you clutched around the makeshift loop tied around the uppermost quadrant of the barrel you straddled. 
“Almost, you’re only allowed to hold on with the one hand,” he pointed out and you swiftly adjusted, raising your left hand up high just as you remembered he’d done, “yeah, there you go.”
“So, just eight seconds like this?” your thighs squeezed around the drum as Tyler gently tugged on one of the ropes, only making you sway slightly. 
“Yeah,” he nodded as you glanced over at him, “and then there are other things that can get you more points, like how well you hold your balance and if you’re able to control the bull or not, those kinds of things.” 
He then caught you off guard by pulling on the rope a little rougher and offering you a much harsher and more realistic buck of the barrel, though, to your shock, you reacted to it surprisingly well, clenching your thighs and tightening your grip. 
“Atta girl,” he grinned at the startled chuckle that bubbled out of you, “see? It’s not so scary. You’re a natural.”
“Or maybe you’re just going easy on me…” you pointed out, reflecting on how the love you’d had for riding horses since a very young age surely kicked in and aided you in this skill as well. 
“You’re doing great,” he stated, his stare staying glued to how your body and hips swayed borderline sensually to the rhythm he kept up, “relax, give in to the movements more.” 
“How?”
“Just–…” he sucked in a breath, “pretend that you’re on something else…” a sly smirk then spread across his features before he uttered, “pretend that it’s me you’re riding.”
You then promptly felt heat begin to rise in your cheeks, as it became impossible to keep up your concentration on the task at hand and swiftly heard yourself shriek, “oh my god, Tyler Owens!”
Letting go of the rope, he stepped closer to you and enjoyed your flustered visage, “or better yet, maybe I should just let you hop on and teach you that way,” he let his palm slide up your leg as he came to stand beside you. 
“You’re ridiculous!” you laughed.
Snaking his hands around your waist, he then effortlessly lifted you back down onto the ground and uttered, “you love it.”
As you felt his breath fan across your features, your giggle got caught in your throat and faded away as you gazed back at him. 
“Yeah, I think I might…” you then whispered before he crashed his lips against yours. 
His boots then began to shuffle as yours did as well, letting him shift you till your spine collided with the gate to one of the empty stalls in the dusty barn. Pushing you up against it as he ravenously kissed you, one of his wide palms then swooped up from his fast hold on your waist to caress the soft peak of your boob through the thin layer of your tanktop. 
A breathy moan couldn’t help but slip up from your lungs when his kisses then faded from your lips and began to dance down the side of your neck. 
“Okay, easy there, tiger,” you caught his head in your hands as his sloppy pecks fluttered against your rapid pulse, “we can’t do anything here.”
“Oh yeah?” he cocked an eyebrow as he peeked up at you, “is that a dare?”
“No,” you chuckled, then reminded him of your neighbour, “he’ll be back any second.”
A groan then seeped through his grin before he pushed himself off of you, “fine…” yet still held his burly arms stretched out and fast on either side of you, supporting his weight against the half wall behind you and doing his very best to stop himself from diving back in.
But then you slowly let yourself float back into his space, “hey,” and tilted your chin to catch his gaze, “I said not here, not that we shouldn’t give it a try…”
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© 2024 thyme-in-a-bubble
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hoshigray · 1 year ago
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𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬: Toji x fem/afab! reader - explicit content; minors DNI - oral (m! receiving) - ball-massaging - face + throat-fucking - praise - pet names (baby, cutie, mama, sweet thing) - implied that reader has given oral prior - first-time Toji finding enjoyment in receiving oral - heavy depictions of a blowjob - mention of spit.
𝐀𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞: "Toji has never really enjoyed oral. At least, not until Y/n went down on them for the first time…"
I was playing with NSFW prompts for the first time, and this was literally the first one it gave me…genius. (¬‿¬) guess kinda a switch-up from this oldie i did~ hope you all had a wonderful Christmas and New Year's, accept this as my welcome back present, hehe~ also tysm for 4.6k, hello????
𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 1.6k
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“…Hey, Toji?” 
“Yeah, baby?”
“…Can I…..give you a blowjob?”
Up until this point, Toji was never one to be given oral from anyone. 
Giving oral isn’t a problem. But receiving it from someone else? That’s another thing. Call it his personal preference or years of sexual experience, but the older man never actually found pleasure in it. It could be from the many inexperienced minxs he’s had to get his dick wet, whose frequent teeth and bites sabotaged the mood for him. Or probably from the others who just really didn’t appear to know what they were doing — again, ruining the mood. Or the fact that most of the time, as mentioned, he finds himself satisfying his partner at the time more than himself. 
Not that he minds at all; no, no. He finds great satisfaction in going in between someone’s legs and getting them turned on from his work. But when it comes to the thought of having his dick sucked, it’s a hard pass. Respectfully. 
Which brings us to the present: him on the couch with an arm wrapped behind your shoulders, bringing you close to him as you watch television comfortably. The ceiling lights dimmed to a warm low glow, your head draped on his shoulder as his hand rubs comforting circles on yours, and the silence only filled with the voices coming from the TV isn’t awkward in the presence of you two. Why would it be? He’s with you, his little sweet thing. And that’s all he wants right now.
So, after all the fidgeting with your thumbs and the occasion glances at him (which he noticed, of course), it was apparent that you’d soon ask him something out of the blue. What he hadn’t expected, though, was that question. 
“Pfft, that’s random,” he scoffs at the sudden question, and more subtle chuckles resort from the bashful turn of your head. God, you were so cute. “Why ask, sweet thing?”
“I was…just wondering, you know?” Your eyes travel down to your twiddling thumbs, avoiding Toji’s deep, observant emerald gaze. “We’ve been together for this long, and not once have I ever given you a blowjob. And I know, you always say you’re fine with it, but like…I really wanna give you one.”
And that’s when you muster up some confidence to peer up at him meekly, and that’s what seals the deal for Toji. Who is he to deny such puppy dog eyes from his baby? 
“Okay then,” he chortles with a smirk, the scar on his right side rooted up. It’s just a blowjob. If not for me, then for them. “Do what you do, cutie.” Little did he know that this would blow his expectations far out.
It started out nice and slow. Toji indulged in your kisses as you snuck your hand into the hem of his drawstring pants, sucking on his tongue while fingers crept inside his boxer briefs to give his cock a rub. He groans into your mouth, liking how you’re setting the mood until you take your lips away from his and slide off the couch to be between his legs. Removing his underwear to the floor, you examine his half-soft dick before using your hands to wrap around the base, massaging around it while you take the tip in your mouth. Toji sighs in bliss at the feeling of your soft licks and rolls of your tongue, shifting around to get more comfortable on the couch.
His erection becomes less and less flaccid, hardening around your mouth. This is where you decide to take in more of his length, hallowing your cheeks as you push your puffy lips down halfway down his erection. By the time you reach this base, your throat is so full of Toji’s girth that you use his sweatpants as reins for your hands as you try to give yourself a few seconds to adjust to the limb occupying your throat. You continue to suck on his cock, bobbing up and down with your saliva coating him, your tongue moving around on the underside of his dick every time you suck up to the tippy top. 
The sucks and strokes to his length become a little faster, and it’s here that Toji can’t concentrate on the television. Subtle twitches of his leg result from the hummed moan you express while taking him to the hilt. The vibrations that resonate along the inner walls of your throat are felt. It feels so good. And the tongue of yours? Fuck. His brows trench down when your tongue licks from the bottom of his ridge to the frenulum, giving his cockhead an onslaught of rough licks and kisses that has Toji exhale through his nose. “Hmmnn, fuck…Y/n, baby, y’re so good at this…Uhghh!”
You release his tip with a soft ‘plop’ with a string of saliva connecting your lips to his spit-covered cock. “Ahahhn, really?” Oh, fucking shit, don’t look at him like that. Your hooded eyes peering up at him with a soft smile while your hands maintain a stroking rhythm that has Toji squirm around your grasp. And then you surprise him with a grasp of his ballsack, oh you’re a devilish cutie. “That makes me happy to know,” you give him a giggle when Toji involuntarily bucks to your hands; the veiny limb contrasting with your pretty fingers is such a sight to see. The pulsating commotion between your legs progresses more by the second.
More dangerous licks paired with the massage to his balls as Toji huff is bliss. “Ahhh, sh–shit…Ya like how my dick tastes, mama?”
Taking his cock back into your mouth with alluringly half-lidded eyes is the answer you give him, your lips covering your teeth as your jaw relaxes to welcome his neither limb back inside your warm oral cavity. The suction of your hallow cheeks became lethal with the increased speed, your tongue now swirling around him and creating such deviant noises that only Toji focuses on despite the television vices failing to drown them out. 
Holy shit, Toji wasn’t expecting this kind of treatment at all. This was downright out of the water from all the other oral ordeals he’s had in his life. How the fuck were you so good at this!? Cupping his balls while slurping his dick was such a dangerous combo; Toji doesn’t know how long he’ll contain the urge to stand and fuck your face here and now. Goddamn, the faster you bob your lips on him, the shiver down his spine is hard to ignore. His hips jerking to your mouth; he wants to fuck your face so bad. And just looking at your ass sway while you suck on him, he knows you’re enjoying this as well. 
It reaches a point where he can’t take it anymore — he wants to go faster and harder. So Toji grabs your head as he stands up and dials the tempo to a harsher motion, propelling your lips down to his pelvis. And you’re quick not to panic, being sure to breathe when Toji smacks his testicles to your chin and ruts into your face and throat with no mercy. Toji moans at the sensation of your gummy walls wrapping around his length, hissing at your muffled wails as he hits the back of your throat. “Fsshhh—Hnngh!! Fuckin’ shit, just like that, mama, just like that…Ohhggh!”
You can feel the veins on his girth pulsate, indicating that his release is soon coming. The thrusts to your face get erratically faster, so you’re sure to grab onto his sweatpants to make sure you don’t lose balance as he spills his load down your throat. Ending it with a few rough hits to your lips, Toji groans with gritted teeth, shaky, strong legs pumping his semen for you to drink, which you merrily take with muzzled squeals on his shaft. The both of you experience the last moment of this euphoric high until Toji’s body calms down, heavy breaths going slower with every expel. He gives you a few moments to suck him off a little more before removing himself from you, gradually pulling his length, quivering with the aftershocks at the dismissal of your warm walls around him. And he jolts when you tease him with one last lick to the sensitive tip. 
“Hahhh, damn, cutie,” Toji takes a seat back on the couch, eyeing you down with a weary smirk and furrowed brows. “Since when did ya like to get down and dirty?”
You sheepishly smile back and avert your eyes down, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand. “I’m glad you liked it, Toji.” 
“Sure as hell did,” he bends down to grab your chin and bring you in for a kiss. The squeaks you let out when he bites your lips are too adorable and hot to his ears. “Want me to eat you out, sweet thing?”
“Really?” God, you were too cute — beaming at him like that with such a lovely smile. 
“Sure thing. Besides, I saw the way you were movin' that ass while suckin’ me off. So, I got you,” Toji takes off his sweatpants, moving his legs to be on the couch entirely. His dick is still standing erect, and he gives you a suggestive grin before tapping his chest, a sign for you to get ready and sit on him. “Only if ya can do that shit on me again.” The request takes you aback for a minute, but you chuckle and stand up. You remove your bottoms and underwear, and Toji notices the wet spot on the material. 
Again, Toji is never one to be given oral. But if he’s going to be treated like this, you might be able to change his mind.
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© 𝐇𝐨𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐠𝐫𝐚𝐲2023 – dividers from @/animatedglittergraphics-n-more.
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monarchberrysblog · 6 months ago
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hello there! 21, but going on anon. could i request a pregnant reader who is feeling incredibly insecure about her body. after an instance where a woman openly flirts and asks miguel out in front of her, she breaks down crying. miguel reassures her and they start having the craziest, wildest, hottest sex imaginable
GROWING PAINS
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✭ 🔞 Miguel O’Hara x Fem! Reader ✭
✭ summary: pregnancy is a challenge, not for the morning sickness or having the urge to pee every other step but for the outside challenges that create tension.
✭ content warning: mentions of morning sickness (if you have emetophobia, skip the first five paragraphs), degenerate home-wrecker, comfort, pregnancy sex, and p-in-v penetration.
✭ word count: +2.1k words
✭ (a/n): let me get a crack at it 😋 I had fun working on this 💜🪻 (if there are errors I missed, please let me know!)
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MATURE CONTENT MDNI | MINORS WHO INTERACT WILL BE BLOCKED
The nausea of the day came in like waves during a full moon at the beach. The smell of toilet water and bleach greeted your nose while kneeling in front of the toilet before you. Dry heaving became a regular habit as the smell of toilet water didn’t contribute to the nauseating sensation.
“Are we okay, cariño?” His voice sent chills down your spine as you rested your head on the toilet seat. “No…” You whined, sounding like a child who had their toy taken away. “C’mon, don't rest your head right there…” Miguel cooes to you.
A low groan escapes your throat as you wait in anticipation to throw up, already wanting the feeling to pass by. “Do you want some tea? It'll help with the morning sickness.” He suggests to you before kneeling next to you and rubbing your lower back slowly.
“Yeah…” You groaned out before your body lurched another heave out of you.
“It’s okay…” He whispers quietly and holds your hair back. “Let it out if you need to.” He blows air to your face, cooling you down from the warm sensation you feel all over your body. But the salvation in your mouth still lingered.
“Thanks…”
/
“Miguel!” You called out to him from the bathroom, looking down at your swelling belly. “Yes, cariño?” He steps into view, returning from his morning workout. A soft kiss on the forehead gives you small butterflies in your stomach before you remember why you called him in.
“Can you please get more coconut butter at the store? I need some more for the stretch marks.” You raised (his) your hoodie to reveal the glistening stretch marks and slightly swelling belly.
“Hmm, did we run out already?” He makes his way over before he ruffles your hair and looks through the medicine cabinet. “Could have sworn we had some.” He mumbles before his palm rests on your belly, allowing his thumb to caress the marks.
“No, we ran out.” You add, getting on your tiptoes to peek at the medicine cabinet for the umpteenth time.
He nods after his eyes mindlessly scan the pill bottles, toiletries, and some of your make-up items. He clicks his tongue and moves his palm away from your belly. “Yeah, I'll get you some more, cariño. Let me jump in the shower first and then go to the store. I don't need to smell like sweat.”
The comment made you pout. The post-workout smell always lured you in, like catnip. You could cling near him and bask in his smell if you wanted to.
“Do you want to join me?” You nod eagerly, taking off the hoodie and tossing it at him.
/
“Do you want to go to the bathroom, sweetheart?” This is the same umpteenth question he asked you while you walked around your local mall down. “No, I'm fine.” He lightly squeezes your hand and gives you the look. The “you better go” look, as Miguel always fell victim to making frequent stops in gas stations or stores to satisfy your bladder whenever the two of you drove around.
“Just go, baby…” Miguel sighs, patting your lower back before he playfully spanks your rear.
You huff before you shuffle into the public restroom while resting your hand on your swelling tummy.
The sight was always amusing for Miguel; it was adorable—the sundress, the comfy sandals, and your hair neatly done. But the adorable sight was interrupted almost immediately. Two hands grasp his arm with such a grip that it can make anyone’s muscle ache from under the skin, even enough to bruise the muscle. Miguel shrugs it off and looks over to the source. “Aren’t you handsome?” The voice coaxed him before her hands squeezed his bicep. He shrugs his arm away and looks over to the bathrooms instead.
“I’m married.” Miguel’s statement lingered in the air before she looked at his arm and took in the sight of him like he was a tall glass of water.
“So am I.” She giggles before she looks up at Miguel with doe eyes. The discomfort arose in his stomach as if he had had a terrible dinner waiting to be released.
“Where’s your husband then?” He questions, hearing the fear in his voice. He shrugs her hand away from his arm again and waits at the bathroom in anticipation for his little wife, you, to return. But the yapping woman continued to speak, not getting any social signals that Miguel wasn't interested.
“He’s at—” Her words cut off before her features go ghost white, enough to mistake her for a blank piece of printer paper waiting to be scribbled on with a permanent marker.
“Miguel.”
A smile of relief paints his features as he walks over to you and gently takes your hand. Your attention is on the woman, seeing her twirl her hair with her fingers. She only giggles and immediately stops when she sees your swelling belly underneath your sundress. “Oh honey, I bet you can't satisfy your husband while you look like you're about to pass out.” She continues to yap, not caring about the looks of disgust from other women around the area. “Cariño, let’s go.” Miguel urges, not comfortable with the woman now harassing you and, arguably, your unborn child.
“Married men are allowed to cheat on their pregnant wives…”
You open your mouth, only to get tugged away from her by your husband, who does not want you to make a scene in such a public environment.
“Not interested. I love my wife dearly.” He steps in, lightly tugging you away from the uncomfortable space.
But hearing the words wasn't enough. For the past few weeks, you've been down on the stoops. Despite being your second trimester, the morning sickness faded away but lingered like a bug—the stretch marks on your belly, the constant bathroom stops, and the aching feet.
The weight of a burden rested on your shoulders like you were carrying pails of water up a mountain with your heart. It pulled you down into the earth’s core.
“C’mon, baby…” He pleads once again, gently tugging you away from the degenerate woman.
/
The car ride back home from the mall felt like the most uncomfortable situation for Miguel. Sure, it wasn't his fault, but it damn well felt like it was when this woman threw herself at him, having no good intentions.
Despite him pushing her away with his words, she relented nonstop, picking and picking at Miguel like a vet ticking fleas away from a stray cat.
He glanced at you, but you turned away from him while sitting on the passenger side, looking only at the window. He occasionally squeezed your thigh while trying to engage in a conversation. But it always ended immediately with your simple one-word answers.
/
Your portions were smaller during dinner. A small scoopful of your dinner was ‘enough’ for you.
“Cariño,” His voice breaks the silence on the dining room table while you move a small broccoli around with your fork. “Is that all you’re going to eat?”
“Yeah, I’m okay with this.”
He frowns at the meek portions. This was your favorite dinner throughout your pregnancy. Now? You eat as if it were the thing you despised the most.
“Cariño, can we talk about what happened?”
“No, no, we don't.” You intervene, stopping his words.
He furrows his brows, and the subtle pout on his lips says that he isn't going to let this go. “…yes, we do.” He steps in, gently taking your hand in his.
“Cariño, honey.” His eyes soften, allowing his thumb to massage your knuckles in small circles.
“I am sorry—”
You shake your head, looking up from your plate. “No, don't apologize. It’s not even your fault.” You put his words to an end before you slide your hand away from his. “I feel…”
You sit back in your seat and put your hands up in defeat, feeling tears form. “I don't know.”
Nothing came to mind. Your brain was murky like muddy water on the side of the road. “I feel bloated and unappealing and pent up.” You expressed many words, but none nailed the coffin of feelings that were forming in your heart. His palm finds its way to your cheek and lovingly cups it while wiping away your tears.
“Hey,” His mellow tone greets you but doesn't fully envelope you. “Please, cariño. Take a moment to breath.”
“I don't know,” You sniffle a bit before looking at your swelling belly. “I don't like being unappealing.” The words finally found on your lips, spilling out like word vomit.
“No, baby. Look at you. You are beautiful.” He places his hand on your belly, slowly moving the sundress around with his touch. “You are carrying our baby, our beautiful baby. You've been nothing but glowing. You are glowing to the point where you light up a room. You make rooms look good. A room where our family will grow, all thanks to you.”
You laughed through your tears, hearing his ramble. But the simile managed to put the tears to an end. “You make spaces look good, feel good.” He slowly helps you from your seat, easing you to your feet. He stands behind you, bringing you close to his chest. His hands slowly move, soon placing them on the bottom of your swelling belly, lifting the belly upwards, easing your lower back.
You stagger back in relief, resting back on him. “There we go.” He whispers, seeing your brows relax and your eyes close blissfully. “But I think that woman is right. You look exhausted.”
You hum to his statement, caving in to his warmth and touch. “Yeah,” You exhale. “I am exhausted.”
“Do you want me to take care of you?”
“…please.”
/
"Let me know if it's too much, cariño." He whispers, slowly laying you down on your shared bed. Your back decompressed against the mattress, earning a sigh of relief from you. "It's never too much." Your reassuring smile puts him at ease in his lower stomach. "Just let me know, please." He still pleads, taking off his sweatshirt and disregarding it to some odd corner of the room. "Let's lift this..." His hands work their way to the hem of the dress, lifting the skirt up.
"Lay on your side for me, nena." He demands, slowly helping you lay down and surrounding your belly with toss pillows.
The sound of his zipper filled the space, causing you to look over your shoulder and see Miguel immediately taking off his pants and boxers. His hands pull at your underwear, revealing your core, waiting for him and him only. The sound of the bed settling down increased the anticipation, feeling him bring you close to his chest before his hand fondles your breast ever so gently. "Take a deep breath-"
"Just put it in, Miguel."
Your demands come true as you feel the same familiar stretch at your core, earning a low moan from the both of you. "There we go." He groans, grinding his bulbous tip against your cervix.
"Harder, Miguel." You plead to him, feeling the soft grinding and his length rubbing against your puffy clit. "I don't want to hurt you or the baby." He whispers, keeping the soft motions.
"You won't hurt me or the baby. I promise.” You sigh and only push your rear to his hip. “I can handle it.”
That sentence is enough for Miguel to cave in and come to his desires. “Oh my god…” You sigh, pushing down onto his length. The slow strokes savored your gummy walls as if you were the main dish at a fine cuisine. “Look at you, so pretty.”
The slow strokes slowly became harsh and rapid. Gushing and slapping filled the space as you felt your nails claw at the bedsheets. “You like that, huh?” He breaths out before he lets go of your breasts and holds onto your hip instead. The single twitch on his cock sends you into a chokehold, leaving you clawing for more.
“Yes, keep doing that.”
A small smirk forms on Miguel’s lips before he keeps the same tempo before he slows down. “Oh, this?” He picks up the pace, similar to before, but with heavy thrusts.
“Yes, that,” You breathe, crashing your hips against his.
“Only for you, cariño.”
The rapid thrusts are enough to sway the bed from side to side, allowing the bed to creak with every motion. Soft pants from your lips escaped before you took Miguel’s hand. “Are you doing well, cariño?” You drunkenly nod before raising your leg and feeling his hand grasp onto your knee, allowing easier access and movement.
“I’m close, Migs.” You buried your face onto a decorative pillow, muffling the moan that slowly evolved into a soft cry of pleasure.
“Together, cariño. Together.” He groans, keeping the same delicious friction. The sensation of his length against your puffy clit creates mouth-watering friction, enough for you to move in sync with his motions.
“It's so good…!” You babble over and over again, tears of ecstasy rolling down your cheeks. “We’re there, almost there.” He groans out before the two of you collapse onto each other. “Oh my god…” You whined out as Miguel’s rapid breath fans your skin. “You okay, mamás?” He gives you a forehead kiss before he slowly pulls out and only nuzzles close to your neck.
“I feel better than ever.”
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valalice · 10 days ago
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✮ YOU'LL ALWAYS BE A GAMEGIRL .ᐟ ft. 𝓮𝓵𝓵𝓲𝓮 𝔀𝓲𝓵𝓵𝓲𝓪𝓶𝓼.
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ʚɞ summary. a collection of streamer ellie headcanons.
warnings. streamer!ellie. modern au. fluff i guess? this is basically crack. ellie's chat can't give her a break. loser!ellie also if you so fancy it. talk about a strap on but it's nothing serious. ellie fights with kids for a living. wc. 1.4k
a/n. and the crowd BOOO'S... i know, i know literally everyone to ever exist on this app has their own thoughts on streamer!ellie, but i thought it would be fun to do my own thoughts on her <3 remember to support your writers by reblogging & commenting !
m.list | tlou m.list
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࿐ streamer!ellie who grew to stardom during quarantine. much like everyone else in the world she had a lot of time on her hands, so what's better than increasing her addiction to gaming and worsening her already bad eyesight by staring at a bright monitor in the dark? it's not like she had much school work (she did) to care about anyway.
࿐ streamer!ellie whose fan base are her biggest haters that always clown on her. many of the fans who have been around since the start still joke about younger ellie, ellie who was in high school and still cringe when she started streaming. “so, yeah i graduated college. that's the reason why there wasn't a stream on saturday.”
[user000] did you get a degree in loserology?
[user001] bro has a whole college degree and still streams 💀
“i’m talking about my accomplishments and you guys are clowning me!?"
࿐ streamer!ellie who succumbed and adopted a kitten a few years ago, a ginger one at that. her face lighting up when she realizes she has yet to introduce her son to chat. taking off her headset (for once) setting it down on her desk, “i’ll be right back, chat.” leaving her room to find where the small kitten could be.
when she comes back, she holds the small ginger puff of fur in her arms with a cheeky smile. taking the kitten in her hands and holding him to the webcam “say hello to little bro, chat. haven't named him yet, was thinking we could do a poll.”
it was best and worst decision ellie ever made adopting a cat. the best because she loves the little stinker. and the worst because anytime she's on the chat is filled with
[user002] DONTTT CAREEE WHERES RICK
[user003] show us the child
࿐ streamer!ellie who has the worst eyesight ever. she wears glasses and still squints whenever she has to read something in game or the chat.
࿐ streamer!ellie whose desk is some second hand desk she got years ago. it’s gone from place to place with her and chat jokes that it's her emotional support desk. it's often littered with pop cans, various wrappers, notebooks and sketchbooks, figurines, comic books, scratched up stickers, and guitar picks. if she's lost anything her best bet is that it's somewhere on her desk.
࿐ streamer!ellie who swears she's not a scaredy cat when playing horror games, but the moment she hears any sound she's freaking out “chat, you heard that right?” "I'M NOT GOING FUCKING INSANE!" and when out of nowhere her character is getting chased her voice will pitch a little higher “HE’S CHASING ME! HE’S CHASING ME!” when the character ultimately meets their doom she’ll deadpan the webcam, “that game wasn't even that scary.”
[user004] whatever you say bud
[user005] that clip of u screaming like a little girl says otherwise
[user006] now we all know who's dying first in a horror movie
࿐ streamer!ellie who starts to get an inflation of views on her streams from clips of her being posted on tiktok (her audios have gone viral a few times). and who rolls her eyes at all the ‘wuh luh wuh?’ comments, “is the sky blue? are there forks in the kitchen? is the grass green? i love women, women love me.”
[user007] women may have we in it but we do not love you
[user008] is the women in the room with us???
[user009] BRO NO NEED TO LIE WE KNOW U DONT PULL
࿐ streamer!ellie who's mic blows out the any time she screams from a game.
࿐ streamer!ellie who is genuinely so shit at shooting games. chat knows that within the first few minutes without a fail ellie will get shot and killed, yet they still get hyped as ellie gets focused on the game. and when she does get killed, her hands will come down crashing on her desk, causing her setup to shake before stretching out in her chair stretching, letting her hands come on top over her headset before falling down over her face.
[user010] just load up roblox bro
࿐ streamer!ellie who hits a milestone and decides to do those ‘letting my followers spend my money’ it's very short lived because chat is just as unhinged and chaotic as her. “why the fuck is there a maid’s costume? fuck no.” and when her eyes rake over the cart to see that someone added a strap harness and dildo, “YO CHAT? THE FUCK?”
[user011] now thats just sad
[user012] AINT NO WAY
[user013] guys stop being mean :/ we all know it's just going to collect dust and cobwebs :/
[user014] ellie bitchless williams
࿐ streamer!ellie who enjoys doing more laid back and casual streams like building lego sets or setting up a new action figure. she’s done quite a few cooking streams which all end in disaster, “chat is there a huge difference between baking power and baking soda?” “i don't give a fuck if i shouldn't be eating raw cake batter, salmonella fears me.” “uh, should the oven be smoking like that?”
[user015] can't believe i'm witnessing ellie burn down her place in real time
or even once in a blue moon an outside stream.
[user016] ayeeee the gremlin is out of its dungeon
[user017] how does it feel to see sunlight again?
࿐ streamer!ellie who rarely post besides the casual spam of her stories, but is somehow extremely chronically online.
࿐ streamer!ellie who got banned from her mic privileges in roblox and later completely banned. all because she has no self restraint when arguing with little kids, “your avatar is ugly.” some random kid would say, “yo daddy is ugly.” ellie would bite back. and when she finds herself in yet another shooter esc game and a kid thinks it's smart to say "your aim is butt!" ellie’s retaliation to the critique is “that's not what your mom said last night you little fucker!” then shooting the kid’s character.
[user018] kid sounds like he's 8 MAX
[user019] ellie desensitizing these kids young
[user020] TO A CHILDDDD?????
[user021] bro can only get a kill if it's a child
࿐ streamer!ellie who thinks all her jokes are knee slap worthy, but her chat couldn't be less phased.
[user022] pack it up
[user023] 🍅🍅🍅🍅🍅🍅🍅
࿐ streamer!ellie who met you in a lobby when she's coincidentally not streaming, her team needed one more player so she shot her shot, “uh, hey,” she's totally cool right now, her palm totally isn't sweating off of her mouse “would you like to join my team? we just need one more player.” and she plays it chill when you accept “cool, cool. thanks.” but afterwards she put herself on mute and jumped out of her chair, all while her phone is blowing up with text from the groupchat.
࿐ streamer!ellie who tells her chat about it the next time she streams. “had a pretty girl on my team. i've never seen her, but i don't need to. i know it in my soul, it's my spidey sense.”
[user024] u sure u weren't dreaming???
[user025] didn't happened unless we have proof
࿐ streamer!ellie who hopes she'd see you in another lobby, but in reality it's probably a few weeks or months before she notices your handle in a lobby again, but she's always on the lookout for it. and when she does she thanks whoever is out there that she's streaming. she's solo playing this time so there's no opportunity for her to be on a team with you again, but she swears she could ascend into the heavens when you giggle at her wishing you luck in the game, covering her face from her webcam to hide that her face is turning bright red, "good luck to you too."
[user026] we all know she needs it
[user027] OKAY ELLIEEEEEE WE SEE UR GAME
“chat, i’m threw the roof. calling it know we're winning this.” ellie in fact did not win. she yet again got killed in recorded time, by none other than you. she couldn't even be upset over it “pretty and talented, damn.”
[user028] bffr u were her easy kill
࿐ streamer!ellie who by the end of it you initiate a conversation with her “i would apologize for killing you, but i just couldn't help myself.” “oh no, no. it's no problem. i’m shit at this game, it's all good.” "well maybe you could get better if we play together more?” and chat could just see the wheels turning in ellie’s head “uh—” her voice fucking cracked, “shit, yeah!” realizing she's getting a little too excited, so she's gotta tone it down “that would be cool.” smoothing a sweaty hand on her sweats. to say her chat explodes is an understatement.
[user029] WE ARE WITNESSING HISTORY
[user030] WINNERS LOVE WINNING
[user031] U BETTER DUST OFF THAT STRAP!!!!
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pucksandpower · 8 months ago
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Black Magic
Charles Leclerc x witch!Reader
Summary: famously non-superstitious Charles takes drastic measures to break the Monaco curse
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Charles rubs his temples as he stares at the phone, mentally rehearsing how he’s going to convince you to meet with him. He knows it’s a long shot — from what his mother told him, you’re not exactly eager to use your … abilities, as she called them. But he’s desperate at this point after years of the Monaco curse haunting him.
He takes a deep breath and taps the call button. It rings once, twice, three times before you finally pick up with a cautious “Hello?”
“Y/N? Hi, this is Charles Leclerc. I was given your number by my mother ...” His voice trails off as an awkward silence stretches between you.
Finally you respond, sounding confused. “Pascale? But why would she ...”
Charles rushes to explain. “She said you might be able to help me with … well, with breaking a curse of sorts. One that’s been plaguing me for years at the Monaco Grand Prix.” He pauses, cringing a little at how ridiculous he sounds saying it out loud.
There’s another long pause before you let out a soft sigh. “I should’ve known this would happen eventually. Listen, I only do that kind of thing for family emergencies these days. Curses and spellwork … it’s not something I take lightly.”
“I understand,” Charles says quickly. “But you have to know what the Monaco Grand Prix means to me. It’s my home race, the most meaningful one on the calendar for me. And yet, every single year something goes wrong — mechanical failures, crashes, bad strategy calls, communication issues. It’s like I’m cursed to never win it.”
You’re silent for a moment, seeming to consider his words. “I’m aware of the … situation,” you say finally. “But even if I did agree to look into it, breaking an actual curse isn’t something that happens overnight. It would take time and effort.”
“I’ll give you anything you need — time, money, whatever it takes,” Charles insists. “Just … please. I’m desperate here. My heart can’t keep taking these kinds of blows.”
Another pause, then a resigned sigh. “Okay, fine. But you have to promise to take this seriously and listen to what I say. No skepticism, no brushing it off as some kind of joke. This is real to me.”
Relief floods through Charles. “Yes, absolutely, I promise. When can you come by? I’m staying in Monaco until the race next weekend.”
“I’ll need a little while to prepare,” you say slowly. “But … I can try to come by Tuesday? We’ll need to talk more about this in person.”
“Tuesday is perfect,” Charles agrees eagerly. “Truly, thank you for this. I’ll make sure you’re well compensated for your time.”
You let out a small huff of laughter. “You keep your championship hopes, I’ll keep my soul. We’ll call it even.”
A bemused smile crosses Charles’ face at that. “Whatever you say. I’ll see you Tuesday?”
“Yes. I’ll be there Tuesday.” You hang up abruptly, leaving Charles staring at the phone with a mixture of hope and trepidation. He has no idea what he’s getting himself into … but he’s willing to try anything at this point.
Two days later, you show up at Charles’ apartment looking rather apprehensive. He ushers you inside, eyes raking over you with obvious curiosity. You’re younger than he expected, maybe mid-twenties, with a casual air and slight frame that doesn’t exactly scream “all-powerful witch“.
Still, he tries to withhold any skepticism as promised. “Thanks for coming. Can I get you anything? Some wine, or ...”
You shake your head. “I’m fine, thanks. I’d rather just get down to business if that’s okay.”
Charles nods and you both settle onto the couch, an anticipatory silence stretching out. Finally you clear your throat. “So. Tell me more about this … curse.”
And so he does, relaying in exhaustive detail the string of unlikely disasters that have befallen him at nearly every Monaco Grand Prix since he started in Formula 2. Crashes, mechanical failures, pit stops gone wrong, you name it … it’s like the racing gods have it out for him every year on his home streets.
You listen patiently, nodding along, your expression unreadable. When he finishes, you’re quiet for a long moment before speaking. “You know curses and superstitions have existed in motorsports for decades, right? It’s a high-adrenaline, high-risk environment … prime territory for that kind of thing to take root.”
Charles frowns. “Are you saying you don’t believe me?”
“I’m not saying that.” You shake your head. “I’m just … managing expectations here. Breaking an entrenched curse, if that’s even what this is, isn’t easy. It’ll take much more than a couple of days of spellwork.”
He lets out a frustrated breath, scrubbing a hand over his face. “So you’re telling me you can’t help.”
“I didn’t say that.” You eye him levelly. “I’m saying this is going to require time, patience, and an open mind from you. If you’re willing to put in that kind of commitment, then I’ll do what I can. But you have to go into this knowing it might not work.”
Charles is silent for a long moment, weighing his options. Finally he nods. “Okay. You’re right, I’ll stop being skeptical and doubting this. I’m ready to fully commit, whatever that takes.”
A small smile flits across your face and you nod. “Alright then. I’ll need to gather some supplies first, do you have anything personal I can use? Something meaningful, something that represents your driving?”
Charles scrambles up to rummage through his drawers, finally emerging with a battered red fireproof racing glove, handing it over to you. “Will this work? My godfather gave it to me when he first started teaching me to kart.”
You take it with a nod, turning it over in your hands. “It’s perfect. I’ll need to attune it and prepare a few … components.” You glance up at him. “This may take me a day or two. But after that, I can try to get a sense of what we’re dealing with.”
He nods, feeling that flicker of hope rekindle in his chest. “Sounds good. Let me know if you need anything else.”
You rise, slipping the glove into your bag. “I will. And Charles?” You hesitate, looking almost nervous for the first time since you arrived. “I know we’ve only just met, but … I want you to understand how serious I’m taking this. Messing with forces like curses … it’s not something I do lightly. If I can’t help in the end, it’s not for lack of trying, okay?”
Something about your sincere tone puts Charles at ease and he nods. “I know. Thank you for this … really.”
A shy smile ghosts across your lips before you slip out, leaving Charles alone with his doubts and hopes alike. Over the next couple of days, he tries to distract himself with race prep and strategy meetings, but his mind keeps drifting back to you and your mysterious preparations. He’s not sure whether to feel hopeful or just plain foolish for entertaining all of this curse nonsense.
Finally, Thursday afternoon rolls around and you arrive once more at his door, looking oddly serene. You accept his offered glass of wine this time as you settle on the couch, clutching the battered racing glove and a few other strange items.
“Okay,” you say, taking a fortifying breath. “I’ve done what I can to attune myself to your energy and prepare. I should be able to at least get a sense now of what we’re dealing with.”
Charles nods, feeling an anxious flutter in his chest as you close your eyes, seeming to slip into some kind of trance-like state. The seconds tick by, tension building in the air around you. Just when he’s about to break the silence, your eyes fly open with a gasp.
“Wow,” you breathe out, looking utterly stunned. “This is … wow.”
“What?” Charles prods urgently. “What did you see?”
You shake your head, almost looking scared now. “I’ve never encountered anything like this. The sheer scale, the power … Charles, this isn’t just some simple bad luck curse. This is dark, powerful magic rooted over years and years. Maybe even generations.”
A leaden feeling sinks into the pit of Charles’ stomach at your ominous words. “So you’re saying you can’t break it?”
“I didn’t say that.” You draw in a steadying breath. “But it’s not going to be easy. Or quick. This is going to take serious ritual work over an extended period of time. I’ll need more supplies, maybe some help from others. It’s … a huge undertaking.”
You look up at Charles, expression grave. “But I think I can do it. If you’re willing to fully commit and see this through, no matter how long it takes or what I need from you, then I’ll put everything I have into breaking this curse.”
Charles stares at you for a long moment, feeling the weight of what you’re saying. This is so much bigger than he ever imagined. Part of him wants to run from the sheer enormity of it all.
But then he pictures it — finally winning his home race after all these years, the crowd roaring as he drinks in the euphoric feeling. No more bad luck, no more disasters clouding his joy. Just pure triumph.
His jaw sets in determination as he meets your eyes. “Whatever it takes. I’m in.”
A slow smile spreads across your face and you nod. “Okay then. We’ll get started right away. This may get … intense at times. But I’ll be right here with you every step of the way.”
“Thank you,” Charles says fervently. “Truly, thank you for taking this on.”
“Don’t thank me yet,” you reply, something sparking in your eyes. “We’ve got work to do.”
And just like that, you dive into preparation mode — making lists, sending messages, gathering spell ingredients and components that have Charles raising his eyebrows more than once. He tries to follow along as best he can, but it’s like a foreign language to him.
After a while, he can’t help but ask. “So … did you always know you could do this kind of thing? The witchcraft, I mean?”
You pause, considering his question. “It’s a family tradition, passed down. My grandmother started teaching me from a very young age. But I’ll be honest … I never fully embraced it until recently.”
Charles feels himself grow curious. “What changed your mind?”
A strange look crosses your face and you’re quiet for a moment before replying. “My grandmother was ill. The doctors had … given up, more or less. So in desperation, I tried to help the only way I knew how. And it … worked, somehow. After that, it was hard to keep denying what I could do.”
“Wow,” Charles says softly. “That’s amazing. I can’t even imagine ...”
You shrug, suddenly looking almost shy. “It’s a lot, I know. Probably hard to wrap your head around. Which is why I appreciate you being so open-minded about this.”
Charles gives you a crooked smile. “Well, I’m relying on you here. I figure I should at least return the favor and be open-minded.”
A surprising laugh escapes you and you shake your head in amusement. “You’ve got a point there.”
A surprisingly comfortable silence lapses between you, broken only when you glance at your watch. “Alright, enough waiting around. We should get back to work if we want to be ready before race day.”
Charles feels nervous anticipation flutter in his chest again. “You really think we can pull this off that quickly?”
“We have to try,” you reply, already focused and in work mode once more. “Just be prepared … this isn’t going to be easy for either of us.”
Charles swallows hard and nods. “I’m ready. Let’s do this.”
Over the next several days, Charles is swept up in a whirlwind of strange rituals and practices — chanting, incantations, symbolic offerings, things he never could’ve imagined before this week. You lead him through it all with a calm patience, guiding him every step of the way.
It’s completely draining, leaving him wrung out and exhausted every night … but he can’t deny the noticeable shift he feels with each passing day too. It’s almost like a weight, a cloud of dread he’s carried for years, is slowly dissipating. He tries not to get his hopes up, but it’s hard … especially with the way your face glows with quiet pride whenever your eyes meet his.
Finally, the night before the race arrives. You’ve worked practically around the clock except for when Charles had to leave for free practice and qualifying, both of you barely sleeping or eating as you poured everything into breaking the curse.
As the sun sets over Monaco’s famed harbors and hills, you finally seem to pause, taking a deep breath. “Okay, I think … I think that’s everything we can do for now.”
Charles stares at you with a mixture of hope and trepidation. “You mean … it’s done? The curse is broken?”
You exhale slowly, looking suddenly drained but at peace. “As much as it can be, at least. The groundwork is laid, the ritual completed. But actually severing that kind of ancient tie ...” You shake your head. “We’ll have to see what happens tomorrow. I’ve done everything I can.”
Relief and gratitude wash over Charles as he reaches out to grasp your hand impulsively. “Thank you,” he says fervently. “For all of this … I can’t even begin to express how much it means.”
You seem surprised by his emotional outburst for a moment before squeezing his hand back gently. “You’re very welcome, Charles. I’ll be honest, I wasn’t sure I had it in me at first. But you put so much faith in me. That meant everything.”
He holds your gaze, feeling an unexpected sense of connection pass between you. So much has happened in such a short span of time — he came to you a skeptic, but now he feels like he’s been through a transformative experience. And you … you’ve put your entire being into helping him, far beyond any reasonable expectation.
The air almost seems to crackle with tension as you both search each other’s eyes. Then, as if drawn by an unseen force, you start leaning towards each other infinitesimally. Charles’ heart kicks up a staccato rhythm as your faces inch closer together ...
Until finally, your lips meet in a soft, almost hesitant kiss. It’s achingly gentle and sweet, at odds with the intensity thrumming underneath. When you finally part, Charles feels almost dazed, his heart pounding.
“Wow,” he breathes out, unable to tear his eyes away from yours. “That was ...”
“Yeah,” you murmur back, looking equally affected. “It was.”
A silence stretches out as you simply gaze at each other. So much has passed between you in these short days — an entire lifetime’s worth of intimacy and connection. It’s overwhelming and exciting all at once.
Finally, Charles seems to shake himself out of the dazed reverie. Clearing his throat, he says gruffly, “Anyway, um … thank you again. I should probably try to get some rest before tomorrow.”
“Right, of course,” you respond quickly, flushing slightly. “The race. Yes, that’s … probably a good idea.”
An awkward pause hangs in the air before Charles blurts out, “You’ll be there though, right? At the race, I mean? As my guest?”
A slow smile spreads across your face and you nod. “I wouldn’t miss it for the world.”
He returns your smile, feeling lighter than he has in years. “Okay, good. That’s really good.”
With that, and one last lingering look, you gather your things and slip out, leaving Charles alone with his whirling thoughts and cautiously rising hope. He has no idea what tomorrow will bring — triumph or despair. But for the first time in his life, he feels like he’s not facing it alone.
As he climbs into bed that night, his mind keeps drifting back to that unexpected, electric kiss and the connection you seemed to share, if only for a moment. He can’t stop replaying it, the softness of your lips, the warmth of your skin ...
With a groan, Charles rolls over, trying in vain to shut off his thoughts. He needs to rest. Tomorrow is everything he’s been working towards for years — his best hope at finally ending the Monaco curse. And you’ll be there, your faith and magic bound to his dream.
Finally, Charles manages to drift into a restless sleep, his unconscious mind swirling with visions of chequered flags and your smiling face in the crowd. Whatever happens, he knows nothing will ever be the same after tomorrow.
***
The next morning dawns bright and clear, a perfect Monaco day. As Charles gets ready to head to the circuit, he can’t shake the anxious flutter in his chest.
This is it. His moment of truth.
Just before he’s about to leave, a soft knock comes at the door. When he opens it, you’re standing there looking almost as nervous as he feels.
“Hey,” you say with a small smile. “Thought I’d come wish you luck in person. And … give you one last thing for the race.”
You hold out a small silk pouch which Charles takes curiously. Opening it up, he pulls out the same battered racing glove he’d given you days ago, now embroidered with strange runic symbols.
“I imbued it with every protection ritual and good luck charm I could think of,” you explain. “As an extra boost on top of the work we’ve already done. Maybe it’ll help settle those pre-race jitters too.”
Charles feels a wave of affection crest over him as he looks at the glove, then back up at you. “You’re incredible, you know that?” He says softly. “Truly, I don’t know how to thank you enough for everything.”
You duck your head shyly, but he can see the pleased flush on your cheeks. “You don’t need to thank me. Just go out there and get that win you’ve been waiting for, okay?”
“I will,” Charles promises fervently. He pauses, then seems to make a split-second decision, stepping forward to cup your face in his hands. “And when I do … I’m taking you out for the biggest celebration Monaco has ever seen.”
Your eyes widen slightly, but you give a breathless little nod. “It’s a date then.”
The corner of Charles’ mouth quirks up. “It’s a date,” he echoes, letting his thumb brush over your cheekbone lingeringly before forcing himself to step back. “I should get going. But I’ll see you out there later?”
“Wouldn’t miss it,” you confirm, looking almost as flustered as he suddenly feels. “Good luck, Charles.”
He shoots you one last, blazing look before tearing himself away, hurrying out to his waiting car. The entire drive to the circuit, his heart is pounding wildly in his chest. He can’t decide if it’s just pre-race adrenaline or something more … something sparked by you and that searing, promising look you gave him.
By the time he arrives, gets into his race suit and fireproofs, and settles into the cramped cockpit of his Ferrari, Charles is wound up like a tightly-coiled spring. His eyes keep drifting over to the embroidered glove still clutched in his hand, feeling the weight of everything it represents — your devotion, your magic, and the hope of finally breaking free from years of heartbreak.
As the cars are wheeled out onto the grid and the pre-race festivities begin, Charles scans the garage until his eyes finally land on you. You’re standing with a perfect viewpoint, eyes already locked on him, and when you catch his gaze you mouth “Good luck“ with an encouraging smile.
A determination like he’s never felt before surges through Charles’ veins. He’s going to win this race, not just for himself but for you too after everything you’ve sacrificed. Giving a firm nod, he slips the glove beneath his suit and grips the steering wheel tightly, watching the lights flick from red.
And as they finally go green and the cars roar away, Charles leans into the first turn in pure focus and exhilaration. For once, his mind is clear of any doubt or dread about the Monaco curse. He can only think about racing, about achieving his dream ...
And afterwards, celebrating that dream coming true with you.
***
As the deliriously happy celebrations continue around him at Monza, Charles can barely catch his breath. The euphoria of a hard-fought victory is still pulsing through his veins, that cherished feeling never getting old no matter how many times he experiences it.
He’s in the middle of accepting congratulations from his mechanics when he sees a Sky Sports reporter, making a beeline for him with her microphone in hand. Trying to tamp down his giddy smile slightly, he turns to face her.
“Charles! Huge congratulations on another amazing win today,” the reporter gushes as soon as she reaches him. “You’re really hitting your stride this season, what a comeback from the early struggles.”
“Thank you. Yes, the team has been doing incredible work to get me a car capable of winning,” Charles replies graciously. “I’m just thrilled to be able to deliver for them.”
“And for the fans too, who have been utterly captivated watching this gripping title battle unfold,” she continues. “Speaking of which, I have to ask — the viewers have been flooding us with one question in particular recently. What’s the story behind those little symbols that keep popping up on your race suit collar? Some kind of good luck charms maybe?”
At the mention of the embroidered symbols, Charles feels his lips quirking up into a small, unconscious smile. He should have known someone would eventually ask about them — the fans on social media have certainly been speculating endlessly.
“Ah, you spotted those?” He says lightly. “Well, it’s um … it’s actually something my girlfriend does for me before every race weekend.”
The reporter’s eyes widen with obvious interest, scenting a prime bit of gossip. “Your girlfriend? We had no idea you were dating someone, Charles! Do tell us more.”
Charles lets out a slightly self-conscious chuckle, feeling the tips of his ears going pink. He’s intensely private about his personal life, preferring to keep you out of the spotlight as much as possible. But the story behind the symbols is too meaningful to brush off entirely.
“Yes, well my girlfriend prefers to stay out of the public eye,” he explains carefully. “Let’s just say she comes from a rather … unique background and heritage. She has certain talents and practices that are very important to her.”
The reporter blinks at him in obvious confusion. “Wait, is she some kind of … psychic or something?”
“Not exactly,” Charles demurs, fighting back an amused grin at the mental image. “More like … well, I suppose you could call her a witch, of sorts.”
A shocked silence falls over the surrounding reporters who have tuned into their exchange. For a long beat, no one seems to know how to react to such an unexpected revelation. Charles doesn’t think he’s ever seen the media look so bemused before.
Finally, the reporter seems to find her voice again. “A … witch?” She repeats slowly. “As in, like, cauldrons and broomsticks and the whole bit?”
Charles lets out a full laugh at that. “Well, not quite like that, no. But she does practice certain … rituals and magics, let’s say. Most of which, I’ll admit, still seems completely mad to me.”
The reporter’s expression is one of fascination now as she leans in closer with her microphone. “And she does these rituals and … magics ... for you? Before races?”
“Exactly,” Charles confirms with a nod. “She adds protective symbols and charms onto things like my race suit, my helmet, sometimes other items depending on the ritual. It’s her way of looking out for me, of sending some extra luck and security my way on race weekends.”
He pauses, his smile softening unconsciously as he thinks about you. “I’ll be honest, I was pretty skeptical of it all at first. The whole concept of witchcraft and curses seemed ... well, rather far-fetched, you know? But she’s been so devoted to her practices, so sincere in her beliefs about the positive energies she wants to send my way … how could I not start to believe in it too?”
The media seems to be hanging on his every word now, caught up in this bizarre but undeniably romantic tale. The reporter lets out a wistful sigh. “Well, it’s clearly been working like a charm so far this season! Maybe the rest of the grid had better start looking into getting their own race day witches on board.”
A ripple of laughter spreads through the group at that as Charles shakes his head in amusement. “Yes, I can see that becoming very popular around the paddock.”
“So does she come to all the races then, your witch girlfriend?” Another reporter pipes up curiously. “Is she wandering around doing spellwork in the backrooms?”
“Oh, no no, nothing like that,” Charles chuckles. “She prefers to keep things … subtle, let’s say. Just the little symbols and charms. Though she is here today actually.”
The reporter’s eyes light up like she’s just struck journalistic gold. “She is? And does she get to celebrate with you after wins like this?”
A soft, almost shy smile plays across Charles’ lips as he nods. “Yes, whenever her schedule allows she tries to come to the races. And we’ll definitely be celebrating together tonight, just us.”
He gets a slightly far-off look in his eyes, seeming to get lost in the thought for a moment. The reporters watching on collectively hold their breaths, waiting for him to divulge more juicy details about this mysterious girlfriend.
Finally, Charles seems to catch himself, clearing his throat. “But anyway, I should really get back to the team to share this incredible day with them properly.”
The reporter makes one last attempt. “Oh, go on, just give us her name at least? Enquiring minds want to know about this charming race day witch of yours!”
Charles throws her an apologetic look. “You know I have to protect her privacy. All I can say is … she’s pretty remarkable. And she’ll probably hex me if I start giving out too many details about her!”
Laughs and groans of disappointment rise up from the reporters at being denied the full scoop. But they know better than to push Charles too far. With some final shouted congratulations, they gradually disperse, no doubt rushing off to publish their articles about the shocking revelation of Charles Leclerc’s witchy girlfriend.
As the small crowd clears out, Charles feels a light touch on his elbow and turns to find you standing there, eyes sparkling with amusement and fondness.
“Well, you’ve certainly given the paddock something to gossip about now,” you tease lightly. “A charming race day witch, am I?”
Charles makes a show of rolling his eyes, even as his cheeks flush a bit at your teasing. “What was I supposed to tell them? You know how much I hate discussing our personal lives with the media.”
“I know, I know.” You rise on your tiptoes to press a soft kiss to his cheek. “I’m just giving you a hard time. I thought it was … sweet, actually. How you talked about my practices.”
Charles’ expression softens as he gazes down at you. Ever since that electric evening in Monaco when you first worked your magic on the infamous curse (and him), your relationship has deepened into something truly beautiful. At first, he admits he was still somewhat skeptical of the mystical rituals and protective charms you claimed to do for him.
But race after race, as the victories kept mounting with no traces of bad luck or mishaps, he’s become nearly as devoted a believer as you. And it goes far beyond just race day superstitions now. Seeing the depth of your spirituality, your connection to unseen mystical forces, has opened his eyes in so many ways.
He pulls you flush against him, cupping your face tenderly as he murmurs, “I meant every word. What you do … it means everything to me, you know that right? Whether the magic is real or not, your rituals give me a sense of peace and security I’ve never felt before.”
You gaze up at him with those captivating eyes that never fail to make his heart stutter. “I know. And that’s why I’ll never stop doing them for you. You make me feel … connected. Vital. Like my gifts can actually make a positive impact, instead of being some weird family quirk.”
Charles lets his thumb gently trace the delicate line of your cheekbone, drinking in every detail of your beloved face. “They do make an impact, mon cœur. Probably more than either of us can comprehend.”
He draws you into a lingering kiss, one that sends delicious sparks of heat ricocheting through his body. When you finally break apart, you’re both smiling and slightly flushed.
“Mmm, I should really start charging the team for services rendered, if that’s the payment plan,” you joke breathlessly.
Charles arches one eyebrow at you. “Trust me, they would go broke in a week trying to keep up.”
You let out a full laugh at that, the musical sound making his heart swell. He loves this — the moments of playful intimacy and banter, feeling so incredibly grounded and content with you. Before you came into his life, such tender domesticity always seemed like an impossible dream given his lifestyle.
Pulling you close once more, he nuzzles into the soft skin of your neck, inhaling your familiar scent. “Let’s go home,” he murmurs huskily. “I have a victory to properly celebrate … and I require your particular skills again tonight.”
You shiver slightly in his arms, drawing back just enough to fix him with a heated look. “My skills are always at your service. Shall we summon a portal or ...”
He huffs out a laugh at your playful tone, secretly loving when you tease him about the more fanciful aspects of witchcraft. “Why don’t we just take the car for now? No need to alarm the locals by apparating in the middle of the paddock.”
Chuckling, you lean up to steal one more lingering kiss before murmuring, “Deal. Now let’s get out of here before that reporter comes sniffing around for more gossip.”
Taking his hand, you start leading him away from the crowded pit lane and back toward the nearby motorhomes. With every step, Charles can feel the thrum of excitement building in his veins, fueled by much more than just the adrenaline of his race win.
There’s a steady warmth pulsing deep within him now, a sense of gratitude and contentment that suffuses his very soul. Ever since that fateful day in Monaco when he let you into his life, everything has shifted into vibrant new focus.
He’s never been superstitious, not really — he prides himself on being practical, logical, leaving little room for spiritual or religious beliefs. And yet … with you, a whole unseen mystical world has opened up to him in the most extraordinary way. Even if he still doesn’t fully understand the intricacies of your rituals and practices, he knows with certainty how they make him feel.
Protected. Centered. Empowered.
Loved, more deeply than he’s ever experienced.
As you make your way hand-in-hand through the chaos of post-race celebrations, trading giddy grins and teasing jokes, Charles feels it all shining outward from his very core — past the fame, the accomplishments, the never-ending pressures of being an elite athlete. With you by his side, he’s found a serenity and sense of self far beyond what any championship could provide.
So tonight, as you cuddle together and let your energies flow over him in that uniquely intimate way, he’ll pour every ounce of devotion and love he feels right back into you. Because in the end, that’s the most powerful force of all — one that transcends even the wildest of your spells and charms.
As long as you two are bound together on this path, no force in the universe could ever curse him again.
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moonstruckme · 4 months ago
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for thawing out, i see how you've already characterized the reader as kind of the calm, even keeled one of the group and i would LOVE to just see her stand up for herself and absolutely blow up after getting pushed too far by the boys (a little mean of me to want her to go through that but-) but yes i love me a good out of character moment that kind of make the characters be like "oh shit maybe we shouldn't be acting this way-" love you babe 🫶
Hi lovely, idk if this is exactly what you had in mind but thanks sm for requesting! Love you <3
collab with @ellecdc
part 1 | part 2 | part 3 | part 4 | part 5 | part 6 | part 7 | part 8 | part 9 | part 10 | part 11 | part 12 | part 13 | part 14 | part 15 | part 16
cw: modern au, chronic pain, implied past abuse, hurt no comfort (for some)
poly!wolfstar x fem!reader ♡ 2.9k words
When Remus arrives at your apartment the next morning, Sirius is already standing at the front door. His arms are crossed over his chest as he glowers in Remus’ direction, but it’s difficult to find him very intimidating when his nose is pink from the cold. 
“Oh,” he says, feeling awkward. “Hello.” 
“Hi,” Sirius replies drily. “What are you doing here?” 
Remus shrugs. Fine. If Sirius wants to be a prick (and what else is new), he can do that too. “I didn’t think you’d come. Have you knocked already?” 
“Of course I knocked,” he all but sneers. “Why would you assume I wasn’t going to be here? I said I would be.” 
“I honestly didn’t expect you’d be able to drag yourself out of bed.” 
Sirius looks ready to make a retort, but your door opens. You look surprised to see both boys on your doorstep, your smile tentative. Remus still doesn’t understand how you can do that at such an early hour. 
“Hi,” you say. Then you turn to Sirius, grin widening as you pinch the frozen tip of his nose fondly. “You made it.” 
“Obviously I made it!” The other boy’s voice takes on a wounded tone, and Remus has to tuck a smile into his scarf. Sirius must suspect, because his gaze narrows.
“How did you get this address?” he asks Remus. 
Remus feels his brow crinkle. It’s not as if he’s the one you’re in danger of. 
“He texted me last night, and I gave it to him,” you answer for him. “I sort of assumed you’d oversleep.” 
Sirius makes an indignant scoffing noise, but he appears to have nothing more to say. He seems in especially brutish form today. You’re as unphased by his moods as usual, hooking your arm through his. 
“I’m sorry to get you both up so early, but I suppose two guard dogs are even better than one.” You squeeze Sirius’ bicep affectionately, and the look you send Remus is pure sweetness. “It’s really nice of you both to come.” 
Something warm and fond blooms in Remus’ chest. Sirius mutters some disgruntled sort of assent. 
You grin. “And now, we can all buy our own drinks!” 
“Oh, fuck this then,” Sirius’ irritating pugnacious tone is back, though now it’s at least partly for show. “I didn’t realize that was part of the deal. I want out.” 
You only make an amused pffting sound, pulling him playfully against your side. 
Remus falls back to let the two of you walk alongside each other on the sidewalk. It’s odd and occasionally entertaining to watch you, so entirely familiar and at ease with each other. It’s the sort of relationship Remus hasn’t had in years, and he’s beginning to question whether he ever had a bond quite as close as yours. It’s obvious even from the outside that the pair of you know each other inside and out, and that you love each other just as deeply. But Sirius’ love is another thing entirely; the way he looks at you is almost too painful to witness. 
Remus doesn’t understand why Sirius hasn’t pursued you. He certainly prefers it this way; it makes his job considerably easier with things platonic and professional between the pair of you, but it just doesn’t add up. Sirius strikes him as the sort of cocksure prat who goes for what he wants, every time. He’s certainly arrogant enough to be sure he’ll get it, and admittedly, with his looks and devil-may-care attitude, there aren’t many people Remus can see turning him down. (They definitely should, but they likely wouldn’t.) Perhaps, after knowing him so long and working with him so closely, you’re simply too smart to get entangled with the likes of Sirius Black. 
You do eventually look back to call Remus up to join the two of you. Sirius looks irked at this, and Remus wishes he could say he was more mature, but he goes in large part because of it. You loop your other arm through his and make sure to include him in your conversation the rest of the way to the rink. 
The morning’s practice goes by with much of the same forced camaraderie. You’re friendly and receptive, Sirius is loud and irksome, but overall Remus is pleased with how things are going. You’re improving every day, to a degree Remus can’t help but admire. He can easily see you perfecting this routine by the Olympics in less than a month, which certainly defies his expectations from when he first started coaching you. Sirius is the same as always; he’s not as consistent or as controlled as Remus would like, but he doesn’t seem inclined to change and his form is (though Remus wouldn’t admit it aloud even at knifepoint) truly beautiful to watch. 
By the end, he has only one thing to say. 
“I think we need to up the ante.” 
You look up from where you’re putting on your skate guards, intrigued. “How do you mean?”
“You’re going to perfect this routine.” Remus can say that with confidence now. A nice little bonus is the way your face lights with bashful pride when he does. “You’ll get plenty of execution points from that, but if you want to really compete it wouldn’t hurt to add a higher difficulty move.” 
Sirius looks up, his gaze watchful. 
“What did you have in mind?” you ask.
“A death spiral,” says Remus. “We could fit it in during the lower-level sequence towards the end. You should be ending with more of a crescendo anyway.” 
You’re nodding. “An outside death spiral?” 
“And backwards, if you’re up for it.” 
“No way.” Sirius’ skates are already in his bag. You look over at him, bemused, but he’s looking at Remus. “You can’t fuck with the program this late. It’s only a couple of weeks before we leave.” 
Reluctantly, Remus turns to face him. His eyes are like a brewing storm. “And would you like to medal whilst you’re there?” 
“We don’t need this to medal.” 
“You don’t know what the competition will be like. You need to bring everything you can to the routine.” 
Sirius kisses his teeth. He stands, looking at Remus with barely repressed malice. “A backwards outside death spiral isn’t something you can just toss in at the last minute. We’re only just starting to manage what we have in the routine already! It’s too risky.” 
Remus fights the urge to roll his eyes. Sirius isn’t subtle; it’s clear what this is really about. “She’s going to be fine,” he says firmly, refusing to back down when the other boy's eyes narrow. “She’s perfectly capable of deciding for herself whether she wants to do this, and your feelings cannot be the deciding factor here. The death spiral is a staple of pair routines. You have to take some risks if you want to compete at this level.” 
“Oh, do you?” Sirius’ laugh is cold and dead. “Is that what you did? If it’s so fucking easy, why don’t we get out there so you can show us how it’s done?” He juts his chin towards the ice, jaw set and eyes blazing. “You can let us see how great it works out to take risks.” 
Remus doesn’t even feel the ache in his hip as he takes two quick steps towards Sirius, towering over the other boy with his blood pounding in his ears. Sirius is forced to look up, but he turns his chin up defiantly. His face hardens as he takes in a short, quick breath. 
You cram yourself between them. 
It’s like snapping back into his body. Remus stumbles back, his hip screaming at the hurried motion. He bites the inside of his cheek hard enough to taste iron, collapsing backwards onto the bench while you put yourself in front of Sirius like a human shield. Your expression is wrathful. 
“Do not do that,” you growl. You reach behind you, taking Sirius’ forearm in your grasp as though to keep him from moving. “God, why do you both have to be such dickheads to each other? We’re done here.” 
You march straight past Remus, dragging Sirius along on your other side like a dog on a leash. He looks about as shell-shocked as Remus feels. Your outburst knocked him flat on his ass, literally. It’s not that Remus didn’t think you were capable of yelling; he suspected you had fangs, but the venom came as a surprise. 
He winces when the door bangs shut behind you. They probably deserve that. He doesn’t envy Sirius, who’s likely to get a lengthy lecture from you on the walk home, but Remus does realize this could mean him losing his job. Trading petty remarks with Sirius had almost begun to feel like part of his role, but he’d never expected to make you so furious. He doesn’t know what it will mean for him that he has. 
─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───
During the entirety of Remus’ long, steamy shower, he cannot stop thinking of the look on Sirius’ face. The way his eyes had almost changed color, going from a murky gray to blue like the hottest part of a flame. He’d looked almost pleading, for half a second after Remus first brought up the death spiral, before his face hardened back into harsh stoniness. He keeps fixating on that look, that second where the dynamic between them seemed on the brink of shifting before it didn’t. But maybe it never could have. Maybe Remus imagined the whole thing; it was only half a second, anyway. 
Regardless, he feels stupid for stooping to Sirius’ level. He’s better than that, he hopes, but in the last few weeks he’s let the other boy bring out the worst in him. He decides that if you don’t fire him, he’s going to try harder to be above it. If Sirius wants to trade insults like a child, Remus can treat him like a child; with patience and a repertoire of aloof platitudes, but he won’t engage with him anymore. 
He’s put on a pair of pajama pants and is moving the waistband to hold a pack of frozen peas to his hip when there’s a knock on his door. He leans back to peer through the window, and there you are, blowing into your hands and shivering on his doorstep. 
Remus groans as he gets up. He was really hoping to have at least one night of relaxation before having to have this conversation. 
You must stop rubbing your hands together when you hear him opening the door. “Hi,” you say. 
“Hi,” Remus replies, amused despite himself. They’re having one of those odd nights where snow falls but doesn’t stick, except to you apparently. Little white flakes are tangled in your hair and dusted across your shoulders. Remus can see some between your eyelashes when you blink. You’re stiff as a board, but there’s no hiding the tiny waves of trembles that shake your frame. 
“I hope it’s okay that I didn’t call first.” Your voice is teetering on the brink of a chitter.
“Yeah, it’s alright.” Remus really shouldn’t feel so warm towards you when you’re likely here to fire (or at the very least, berate) him, but you do look terribly cold. “Would you like to come in?” 
“Yeah, thanks.” You step inside so fast he hardly has time to make room for you, and the sleeve of your coat brushes against his bare chest, making him shiver. Remus realizes then that he’s not wearing a shirt, but he decides not to care; it is his house (or his rental, at least), and you’re the one who showed up unannounced. He’s entitled to be as underdressed as he likes. 
This small bit of indignance, though founded entirely from a battle within himself, reminds Remus to be miffed with you. 
“If you’re going to ask me to apologize to Sirius,” he says, going to the kitchen to put the kettle on (he may be miffed, but he is still Welsh), “you can save it. I have no intention of getting into a row like that with him again, but I was not the one who was being unreasonable.” 
You rub your lips together, nodding. “Yeah, I agree. You shouldn’t apologize to him.” 
Remus feels his eyebrows draw together. “Okay…good. Because I’m not planning on it,” he says, just to be sure you understand. “He was completely out of line.” 
You nod again. “He was.” 
Remus finds his eyes straying to the door while he mulls over whether he’s feeling impolite enough to ask the next logical question. Then what are you doing here?
You take in a breath, letting it whoosh out of you. “I came because I want to apologize.” 
It’s impossible to keep the surprise off his face. “You?” 
“Yeah.” You rock a bit on your feet, and Remus realizes you’re still wearing your coat. Either you don’t plan to stay long, or you’re too anxious to take it off without an invitation. “I’m sorry I shouted at you earlier. It was really harsh—I mean, I was right, but I didn’t need to be cruel about it.” You glance to the side, a bit of bashfulness softening your voice. “I also shouldn’t have called you a dickhead.” 
A little chuckle escapes him. “We were being dickheads.” 
“You were,” you agree, “but I still shouldn’t have said it. I don’t want to be like that. I’m sorry, and I hope you still want to stay with us.” 
You look back at him, your expression intentionally firm but your eyes beseeching, and some part of Remus melts. He and Sirius get into fights all the time—loud ones, with shouting and name calling and absolutely no holds barred—but you snap at them once, and here you are. Having walked here by yourself in the cold because you feel bad about it. 
“Let me get your coat,” he offers.
You take your tea to the couch, where you curl up automatically on the side opposite Remus’, pulling your legs in so he can pass between you and the coffee table. Remus picks his peas back up as he sits carefully, stifling a groan. It’s a bit embarrassing to ice his hip in front of you, but the pain has become too much to ignore. 
You wince as you watch him settle them underneath his waistband. “Is that because of me?” 
He can’t very well tell you the truth when you sound so guilty. “No,” he says. “I have to do this a lot.” That part’s not a lie. 
You nod, still looking sorry. Remus is grateful when you move on quickly. 
“Just so you know,” you say, “Sirius probably won’t apologize to you either.” 
Remus almost snorts. “Yeah, I wasn’t anticipating he would.” 
You smile ruefully. “I know he probably feels bad about saying what he did—he knows he had no right—but he just gets so caught up in anger sometimes. If it helps at all, today was just an especially hard day for him. He’s always…extra on edge around this time of year. You learn not to take the things he says personally.” 
Remus studies you through narrowed eyes. He blows steam off his tea. “Does he do that to you often?” 
You shake your head. “I don’t typically goad him,” you say with no small amount of humor. Or pointedness. 
He lifts a brow. He’s already told you he won’t be apologizing for giving as good as he gets. 
You sigh, your expression going somber. “Listen, I know Sirius can get really—” you shake your head again, blowing out a breath “—really quite hot headed, but you can’t get in his face like that. His life has—well, it’s not my place to tell you about what his life has been, but even when he says things like that, you can’t act all threatening just because you’re having a spat, okay?” 
Remus feels his brow wrinkle. “Threatening?” 
Your face softens. “You looked like you were about to hit him,” you say gently. 
Something inside Remus gutters. “I did?” 
You nod, looking almost apologetic. He feels nauseous. 
“I didn’t…” 
“I don’t think you would have,” you clarify. “I’m not saying I thought you were going to hit him, I just know how Sirius works. And from his perspective, I know how it looked. You can’t do that to him.” 
“I don’t want to do that to anyone.” Remus sounds injured even to his own ears, and so he takes a deep breath, closing his eyes to shut out the pained pinch of your mouth. 
“I’m sorry,” he says after a few moments. “I really had no idea that’s how it looked. I think I got too caught up in being angry about what he said, but it won’t happen again.” 
“I know.” Your voice is gentle. You set a hand on his knee, tentative but there. “I didn’t come here to make you feel bad. It’s okay, just…now you know. For next time.” Remus opens his eyes again, and you smile wryly. “You can shout at him all you want. Don’t let him dish it out without making him take it, but just stay away from physical stuff like that, yeah?” 
“Yeah,” Remus agrees hoarsely. “Thank you.” 
“Don’t sweat it.” You give his knee a friendly pat, leaning back against the couch cushions and sipping your tea. 
Again, Remus marvels at you. Sirius fights for you every day, whether you ask him to or not, loud and bold and relentless in his devotion to you. He wonders if Sirius knows that even when he doesn’t ask, in your own way, you go to bat for him too.
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2jimbi · 10 days ago
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a/n: necesitamos más clingy megumi so aquí estoy para dárselos :) un poquito 🤏🏼 ooc pero ya no me importa jajaj hago lo q quiero | not proof read
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“he’s sulking.”
“i am not.”
“why?” yuji asks, popping a gummy bear into his mouth. he’s curled up on the couch, mean girls playing loudly on the tv.
“his girlfriend’s gone—went to visit family for the week, so he’s sad.”
megumi grumbles annoyed. “so what? i can’t miss my significant other or something?”
“i didn’t say that,” she says, voice high and teasing. “but you’re ruining the vibes in here. we wanna have a day together, and here you are, souring the mood.”
megumi wanted to say something back, something bitter and harsh, but she was right. he couldn’t help he was clingy—even if he’d never admit it. he wanted to text you, but he knew that you rarely saw your family, so he wanted you to have a weekend of fun and memories, even if it meant not talking to him. you also had broke your phone during the trip, as noted when you called from your moms phone.
so, for a week, megumi was slowly going insane. he’d reread texts and look through old photos to help him cope. he felt like he was at war, fighting for his wife and kids back home—only that the war was kicking his ass badly.
“oh, fushiguro!” yuji says, mouth full of gummy bears. “y/n texted me last night.”
megumi’s eyes dart to yuji. “what? you’re just telling me now?”
“i forgot, my bad. but she told me she won’t be back for at least another 3 days. her flight got delayed or something like that,” he pops the last gummy bear into his mouth.
megumi felt like he just got shot. like he was the last remaining soldier fighting for his country and he just lost the war. he’d watch himself bleed out, limbs severed, and the enemy would laugh in his face as the faces of his wife and kids flashed before his eyes.
“ooh, that sucks.” nobara says, keenly looking at her nails as she files them down. she blows the dust away, pursing her lips as she stares at the finished product.
so, not only did he have to wait a week, he’d have to wait a week and 3 days. he prayed to whatever divine power was out there for the strength to keep going.
“everything in this movie could’ve been avoided if they just communicated,” yuji says with a sigh.
megumi tried to focus on the movie. he tried to be a good friend, but he couldn’t help that he was a lover boy at heart. he missed his girlfriend, maybe a little too much. if that were a crime, he’d be a convicted felon.
“i don’t think either girl was in the wrong, they were just—“ nobara abruptly stops. her jaw drops.
“what?” megumi says.
“so you just lied?”
megumi turns around and lo and behold, his one and only stands at the door. you were dressed down and looked crazy but megumi swore it made you look 100x more beautiful.
he immediately gets up from where he is and almost tackles you to the floor, pushing you out of the door and spinning you around. he hugs you so tight it’s constricting. “hello to you too.”
“god, i missed you so much,” he says, and his voice is so soft it makes you ache. “i thought about you every second.”
you tap his arm, and he instinctively loosens his grip. “i missed you too, babe. i’m sorry for not texting or calling. i just didn’t want to use my moms phone every time.”
he shakes his head. “it’s fine. why’d you tell itadori you’d come later?”
“oh, cause our flight was delayed, so i thought i’d come home later, but we caught an earlier flight. and i wanted to surprise you, so.”
he hugs you again, burying his face into the crook of your neck and his hands on your waist. “this past week was hell for me. i missed your beautiful face so much.”
yuuji whistles. “woo, fushiguro! you go man!”
nobara wretches. “at least close the door. i don’t wanna witness this.”
megumi walks over to close the door without a word.
“i was only gone for a week, baby. what’s the deal?”
“you, you’re the deal. radio silence from you for a week—i almost went insane. i did everything: scrolled through old photos, reread texts, listened to your favorite songs. it was so pathetic.”
the thought of him doing all that was funny, and it made you cheese hard. you kissed his cheek, and he returned the favor, but on your lips instead.
“well, i’m here now.”
he smiles, the kind of smile that makes his eyes twinkle and his face light up. then, he kisses you again. once, twice, thrice—until you’ve lost count and just stand behind the door kissing, lost in thought.
“get the fuck out of the hallway! i can hear you guys!” nobara yells annoyed.
megumi doesn’t say anything smart, just drags you by your wrist into his dorm. “you’re not allowed to leave me again, by the way.”
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jasvtsc · 13 days ago
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office surprise
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warnings! mdni! mentions of inappropriate pics. slight sexting. softdom!beau. blow job. oral (m!receiving). slight voyeurism. almost getting caught. probably grammar mistakes.
word count! 1.6k
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you’ve been purposely getting on beau’s nerves the whole day. there wasn’t any reason for it — you just felt like being an annoying little shit.
at first, you wouldn’t let him out of bed, clinging to his side and whining whenever he tried to move. how did he manage to escape from a leech like you? he still wasn’t exactly sure. however, it all got worse when you decided to send him some… pictures, while he was at work. at first, he thought you were just pestering him and that maybe you wanted to ask when he was finishing his shift.
well, he couldn’t be more wrong.
because as soon as he clicked on the message, his eyes widened and he shoved his phone into his pocket, feeling his pants growing tighter as he quickly side-eyed hoyt to check if she saw the content on his phone. luckily, she was too busy talking to some officers about the case they were working on. luckily, she didn’t see the picture of you, sitting in his bedroom, in his bed, wearing his shirt and hugging his pillow with your hand in your lacey white panties he got you not that long ago. he inhaled sharply through his nose as his phone started buzzing even more, painfully teasing the growing bulge in his pants.
he excused himself and went to his office suspiciously fast, bumping into some people on his way there. as soon as he closed the door behind him so that nobody would interrupt him, beau pulled out his phone and checked new messages from you.
more pictures.
you playing with your pussy through the dampened fabric of your panties. another one where you stuffed your fingers into your mouth, looking up at the camera with those puppy eyes you often made while being on your knees for him and your mouth full of his cock. and then yet another one where you were biting your lower lip, your brows scrunched and your fingers shoved in your dripping core. he could only imagine the pretty sounds that were probably leaving your mouth as you played with yourself.
he took a shattering breath as he palmed his crotch, trying to relieve himself a little while staring at his phone. suddenly, he was wondering how fucked up he would be if someone heard him grunting if he decided to get himself off.
suddenly, the door to his office opened. he shot up from his chair and cleared his throat, expecting to see hoyt — so imagine the surprise on his face when he saw you.
In all honesty, he was baffled. you just sent him those pictures and now you were standing in front of him, that huge grin on your face as if nothing had happened. for a moment, he was moving his mouth like a fish freshly taken out of the water before he could make any sound.
“hello?” it sounded like a question when you walked up to him and pecked his lips, standing on your toes to reach him.
“hi,” you giggled in that innocent manner and he knew damn well that you were just acting. you were a little devil.
“what are you doing here? i thought you were at home. when did you—” he cut off, words suddenly stuck in his throat since he couldn’t force himself to ask it out loud. he needed to know when did you take those photos.
“earlier. right after you left,” hearing that was enough to make him speechless.
“why now?”
“why not?” you shrugged, fluttering your lashes at him, trying to act coy. he took a deep breath and pinched the bridge of his nose before running his palm through his face.
“you’re being a bad girl, y’know that?” with a sigh, he pulled you closer and pecked your lips which only got yet another one of those sweet giggles out of you. “unbelievable,” he muttered, kissing you again. “y’gonna pay for that, got it?” he said and bit on your lower lip, giving it a slight tug.
“oh, i know,” you hummed teasingly, pulling away as if you were going to walk away. but he was already done with you being a brat, so he grabbed your arm and quickly pulled you back in.
“now,” and clearly, you weren’t expecting that. your eyes went wide and your plump lips slightly parted as it was your turn to be flabbergasted.
“what do you mean by now?”
“you heard me sweetheart,” he almost growled lowly into your ear. “get under the desk,” he was done with you playing games and trying to gain some control when he was the one in charge.
you looked at him, still not believing that he wanted you to do that. you thought he might wait until you get home but his expression was speaking in volume. you gulped nervously and turned to look at the door, now closed. but anyone could enter at any given moment. you turned back to face him, tilting your head back to voice some protest but he just gave you a stern nod.
“now,” his tone left no place for discussion and even though you’d never admit it, you felt a familiar tingle at the bottom of your stomach.
with a small sigh, you quickly put your hair up and got under his desk. a satisfied smirk graced his lips as he sat in his chair, spreading his legs to give you some room between them. you scooted closer on your knees, fixing your skirt to not get the light fabric dirty. however, the way your knees would be bruised later would be enough of a sign of your little visit to the sheriff’s office.
“go on,” he encouraged you, rubbing his bearded chin as he stared you down like a hawk. you already knew what to do and since you didn’t want to piss him off even more, only imagining what he would think of then, you began to unbuckle his belt, your small fingers fiddling with the leather. after struggling for a few seconds you finally did it and unzipped his pants, lowering them slightly to expose the bulge underneath. the grey fabric was already stained with precum as his dick was straining against the fabric, waiting impatiently to be freed.
you gasped quietly which made beau chuckle. however, he was soon the one to make a sound as a small moan escaped from his throat the moment you pulled his throbbing cock out. your eyes widened when you saw the pinky shaft in all its glory, the prominent veins throbbing under your fingertips and precum leaking from the tip. sheriff bit his lip to muffle any more sounds from coming out and drawing in any unwanted attention from outside the office.
“come on, sweetheart. you know what to do,” he rasped out, his voice gravelly with need.
you gave him a few firm strokes, trying to fit in your small grip. with your thumb, you spread the precum around and finally — after what felt like agonizing hours to beau, you took him in your mouth.
at first, it was just the tip as you swirled your tongue around it. only then, after teasing him enough, you felt bolder and moved closer, feeling him slide deeper into your throat. he inhaled sharply, his nostrils flaring as he moved his hand to the back of your head, gripping your hair and impatiently pulling you closer. it made you gag slightly but you didn’t pull away, quite the opposite, you tried taking him in fully. and soon, you were bobbing your head up and down, as much as the desk allowed you to. he growled lowly, helping guide your movements as he tilted his head back, his legs spreading even further apart.
“good girl. you’re such a good girl, baby. you’re doing so well. just like that,” the way he praised you in that lust-driven voice only encouraged you to keep going. you skillfully moved your tongue, your pace relentless, as your nose bumped against him, his tip hitting the back of your throat.
soon, you felt him getting closer by the way he was twitching between your swollen lips covered in a mix of your drool and his sweet essence. his breathing picked up and he looked down at you with hooded eyes, his chest heaving and a few droplets of sweat trickled down his temple.
“i’m close, baby. keep going,” he gasped, the way he was talking almost as if he was out of breath.
you didn’t stop, too eager to please him which seemed to be what had driven him over that edge he was tethering on. but before he could tell you to pull away, as he always did, the door to his office opened.
he widened his eyes, looking up at hoyt and poppernak, trying to act his best as if nothing was happening. meanwhile, you widened your eyes when he finished in your mouth. you had no other choice but to swallow as he kept you close by the back of your head.
somehow, he managed to talk with his voice surprisingly steady and the two soon left his office. after he made sure that they were gone for good, he looked down at you as you pulled away, your lips puffed and messy. he chuckled lowly, wiping them with his thumb and letting you lick it clean.
“well, that was close,” he grinned stupidly as you helped tuck him back in his pants.
oh, you were going to get your revenge for that later.
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THEE SMUT FAIRY IS BACKKKK YALL
@frosttbitessam special tag for my wifeyyy
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༄♡ tags: @beausling @deanswidow @titsout4jackles @a1ecmcdowell @deansbeer @figthoughts @deansbite @aileenunfiltered @fitxgrld @angelicp0etry @hrtsoldierboy @10ava01 @abellmunsonmovie @momoewn
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puckinghischier · 15 days ago
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I can just imagine doing a “soft launch” with Nico and him not understanding the concept of it and posting just a picture that’s very much you and the teams gc blowing up giving him shit
when you opened the burst of notifications suddenly flooding your phone, you’re confused. sure, you had just posted a soft launch of nico on your account, but you didn’t expect this kind of reaction to it, most of your close friends and family already knowing about him.
when you open the instagram app, though, you see none other than a post from your oh so sweet boyfriend, your smiling face next to his looking right back at you. his comments are full of fans talking back and forth about who you are and where you came from. you noticed the sudden influx of followers to your account, quickly switching your profile to private before any more make their way through.
the two of you had discussed doing a soft launch last night, agreeing that now is the time to do it, seeing as you’re getting pretty serious. you thought nico understood the concept, but bless his heart, he didn’t.
he had posted one of the most recent pictures the two of you had taken together. you were standing nestled close to him in front of the large tree at rockefeller center just across the bridge, big, loving smiles on both of your faces. the icing on the cake, though? he tagged you in the picture.
you noticed a few of his teammates in the comments, cheering the new relationship on and congratulating him for making it social media official.
ones such as timo, jack, and jesper, however, were poking fun at him. the three of them were the first of nico’s teammates you ever met, so you feel a bit closer to them than some of the others. you had actually crashed their lunch yesterday, joining the four hockey players for a quick cafe meal in-between practices.
they were included in your conversation, asking them their opinion and if it was too soon. when they all gave you their approval you continued the conversation with nico later that night, setting the plan into motion.
jack’s comment read “wow cap, this launch was about as soft as a rock,” while timo’s was along the lines of “soft on the ice, but not on the launches.”
jesper’s was a bit more to the point, simply stating “you’re not supposed to tag her, dumbass.”
before you could read any further comments, your screen was taken over by an incoming call from none other than your new instagram official boyfriend.
“sweetheart, i fucked up. i’m so sorry. i should have asked what you meant last night, but i thought we were just posting about each other. i had no clue it was supposed to be secretive and clever. you should have just told me what to post, now-“
“nico, neeks, calm down. take a breath, it’s fine,” you laugh at his rambles, interrupting his spiral that started the second you answered the phone, not even getting to say hello.
“you’re…not mad?” he stops mid-sentence, confused at your lack of fury at his mistake.
“no, i’m not mad. even if it did cause my phone to nearly crash because of how many notifications were coming through, it was cute,” you smile through your sentence, even though he can’t see you.
“oh…well….i guess i didn’t need to leave practice early then, huh?” he tells you, right as you hear the door open to your apartment, nico standing there with the key you gave him in hand.
you hang up your phone, standing from your couch and walking over towards him.
“why in the world would you leave practice early for something as silly as this?” you stand with your hands on your hips, looking at him disapprovingly.
he doesn’t meet your eye, seeming bashful all of a sudden. “well…if you were going to yell at me i would rather have had you do it in person, that way i could kiss you and tell you i loved you in person instead of over the phone,” he tells you honestly, looking like a little boy getting scolded by his parents.
rolling your eyes at him, you walk over and run your hands through his hair, letting your hands stop at the nape of his neck, arms resting on his shoulders as he looks down at you.
“well i’m not mad, but you can still kiss me and tell me you love me, since the entire state of new jersey—well, the united states and most of switzerland, probably—knows now,” you poke fun at him, scratching the bottom of his scalp while his arms come to circle around your waist.
smirking down at you, he meets your lips in a sweet kiss, barely able to savor it before his phone starts buzzing like crazy in his pocket, distracting both of you.
“now listen, i know i don’t have that many followers to freak out about my new hockey star boyfriend, so who’s blowing your phone up?” you pull back from the kiss, looking down at where his phone rests in the pocket of his sweats.
he pulls the device out, bringing it over so both of you can look at it. you see the messages continue to come through, the same name being seen on all of them: “the handsome devils”.
“that’s your groupchat name? the handsome devils? how original” you laugh at the team’s lack of creativity.
“it was jack’s idea,” nico shrugs, the explanation making perfect sense.
you can hardly read the messages because they’re coming in so fast, but you catch a few.
“nico, do we need to host an instagram class in lieu of practice one day?” dougie offers his admin skills to his captain.
“cap, even i know that soft launch means partial, not a full face shot,” followed by “i didn’t mean that the way that sounded, jack, don’t laugh,” from curtis, and then a “HAHAHA” from jack.
“does this mean i have to start calling her mom?” from luke was the last one you saw before looking up at nico, his furrowed brow showing his annoyance with his teammates.
you reach up to smooth the wrinkle between his full brows, leading him to look up at you instead of his phone.
“nico, they’re just poking fun. they all mean well,” you assure him, taking the still buzzing phone from his hands.
he pouts at you anyways, huffing out a sigh. “i just…felt really bad about all of this and they were all laughing at me when i was rushing out of the locker room, worried you were about to break up with me.”
you can’t help but let out your own laugh, finding it comical he actually thinks you would break up with him. his pout deepens at your laugh, crossing his arms and tucking into himself, yet again looking like a child.
“nico, i’m sorry, i’m not laughing at you, it’s just funny you think i’d break up with you over being too excited to tell people we’re dating and posting one of my favorite pictures of us on your very public instagram,” you assure him, untucking his arms from themselves and placing them back around your waist.
he lets himself relax a bit, getting comfortable in his hold on you again. “it is a really good picture of us, isn’t it?” he asks, looking down at you.
you nod your head yes, humming out a “mhmmm” before standing on your tip toes and pressing a kiss to his nose.
“now, why don’t we go make ourselves comfortable on the couch, order food, and think of snarky comebacks to send to your teammates for making fun of you?” you suggest, causing his face to light up.
“i knew i loved you for a reason,” he says enthusiastically, taking your arm and dragging you over towards the couch.
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kreemkreem · 2 months ago
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Your future spouse message for you 💜
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Hello
I think you know me or do you? Ha ha I am just saying. Now if I start being practical how are you? Hmmm . Are you taking care of yourself or not? Hmmm. I think you are not . whyyy hmm. (In soft voice ahhh) . Did I make your heart beat faster or made you blush . I think not (maybe yes) . Do you want a ring babe? Oh your blood is rushed to your face. I think I do some magic on you . Why so shy babe hmmm . Cutie. Oh ,you are not but what should I do you are for me(hahaha).
Your future spouse is literally a tease. I full so happy writing this message. He flirts a lot . And you are a little reserved person. You might pretend that u don't like his teasing but you are internally getting butterflies.(Do give a feedback)
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Hyy sunshine
I wanna talk to you 😭🥺. Just a casual talk will do. I am missing you. If you are manifesting me I am also manifesting you. I know it will take sometime hah how I know it will take time. Bcz I am fixing the things you might not like in me. My hairstyle,my confidence,my wardrobe I am refining it . Making me a brand new person. Dk you wanna go on a beach? Wearing the pearls. I will take time but I will come. Don't be in love with someone else I am not just saying the lyrics I actually mean it.
😘
(your future spouse may be from different culture from you. They were talking to me a language I can't understand (lol 😭) . Your future spouse is committed person they may pray that all other people stay away from my future spouse. Here a strong message they may person you in just 1-2 dates. For some of you they may even propose you in just one meeting. Maybe you will meet him in blind date or in arrange marriage set up.)(do give me a feedback)
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When the wind blows I love you when will stops I love you in rain I love you in when a sunset I love you when the sunrise I love you on the half moon I love you on the full moon I love you on the seashore I love you when the leaves are falling I love you when the trees are growing I love you on the snowy mountain I love you. Just wanna say I love you 💗💗💗.
((sigh) your future spouse just wanna tell you. How much they love you. I think you are more focusing on yourself right now. And you may feel now you are alone but your future spouse is telling you they are always with you. You are not alone as they love you. Even in my own message they are coming to say I love you. I think some of you wanted a confirmation or asked the universe if your spouse love you. Look how much they love you)(do give me a feedback)
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tyunniez · 11 months ago
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converse high... bttm male reader
!!.. this has to be my worst work yet,, uhh rough sex, creampie, kinda vanilla ngl, not proofread idfk also bts ref borahae 💜
you jumped around in excitement to see one of your favorite group is finally going on tour! and they're coming to your city!
you immediately rushed to check the tickets, choosing the vip standing seat. " wait, how much money do I have left? " you stopped yourself before making a bad decision.
you looked at your bank account and almost passed out. you're broke as hell.
" why the hell am I so broke? " you questioned yourself, trying to find a genuine reason.
you scanned throughout your room till your eyes landed on your closet. " ah. that's why. "
multiple articles of clothing brimmed your closet causing it to overfill, making you slightly grimace at how your clothing rail was holding on for its dear life.
you recently went on another shopping haul after seeing your favorite idol adorning a new collection that was released by your favorite fashion brand.
you just had to get it.
yeah, maybe you had a bit of a spending problem..
your parents have spoiled you since birth because you're their one and only child. no, you weren't wealthy. you had to take on jobs multiple times, but hey hard work pays off!
you were currently on your break, and you intended to spend it going shopping till you went broke but unfortunately, due to you blowing your money to buy another vip standing ticket, that money mysteriously vanished.
" hmm.. is there any job I can do right now? " you rolled around in bed while scrolling through your phone, trying to find any quick gag you could do to earn some cash.
you ended up throwing your phone to the wall, groaning aloud when you could find none.
" i'm so lazy! not to mention my piles of assignments... " you sighed to yourself, opting to go downstairs instead to eat your sorrows away.
you were greeted by both of your parents downstairs, your mom already getting started on making lunch. " oh dear, what's wrong? you look stressed. "
you go to stand beside her, washing your hands in the process to help her cook. " I'm looking for a job to buy a ticket for a concert. my fav group is coming here you know! " you complained to your mom.
you grab the onion and began slicing it, shedding a few tears meanwhile. your mom thinks to herself, turning to you with an idea.
" you know our neighbor is actually looking for someone to babysit her kid. the pay is quite good since her kid is quite.. naughty. " you stared at the soup you were stirring and hummed.
" i can send you the details if you're interested, dear. " you nodded and decided to see how much would the pay be, who knows it might be enough.
a bonus is the kid has a total hottie as her brother!
you took one look at the pay and were sold immediately. you did the math and doing this for the amount of time needed will be more than enough.
i mean, babysitting can't be that hard, right?
⊹₊⋆
you sighed nervously as you finally approached the front door, your tote bag on your shoulder with everything you needed inside. you knocked on the door, anxiously waiting for the mom to greet you.
instead, you were greeted by someone else. " you the new babysitter? "
you stuttered, brain short-circuiting. instead of answering, you stared at the man in front of you.
the red-haired cocked his head to the side, waiting for you to answer with a raised brow. " hello? you there? " he asked in an annoyed tone.
" oh, oh yeah sorry. y-yeah, i'm the new babysitter. " you gripped the strap of your tote bag, trying your best to maintain eye contact with the man in front of you.
he hummed and opened the door wider for you to come in. you excused yourself and stepped into the house.
you walked up to ms. moore to greet her but before you could say anything she rushed towards you, her bag already in her hand.
" oh yn dear! i was just about to leave! thank god you're here. so there's money on the counter in case maya wants anything to eat. you can ask my son for any help. i'll be back before one so i hope you can withstand.. "
before you could ask any questions, she already rushed her way out towards the door. " jason, you better help the babysitter this time! thank you again and i'll see you when i get back, dear! "
with a slam of the door, she was gone.
you stood there, trying to process the information she just dumped on you. in your shocked state, jason gave you a pat on the shoulder. " she always does that. good luck dealing with that devil. ", was all he said before leaving you alone.
" maya, go easy on him! " he shouted upstairs.
you turned to the kid staring at you from the couch, a little concerned about what he just said. you've dealt with kids before, this will be easy.
⊹₊⋆
god, you regretted even thinking that.
there was a reason why babysitters kept dropping out like flies. this kid might as well come straight from hell!
you let out a long sigh as you crashed onto the sofa. you finally managed to put maya to sleep. though you couldn't really relax, still scared she might pull something with you thinking she was asleep.
" don't worry she's asleep. " you looked to the side to see jason slipping next to you on the couch, remote in his hand as he scrolled through various movies.
you let out another sigh, leaning your head back against the headrest and closing your eyes. you crossed your legs over one another, inspecting your slightly dirty converse high.
you peered over next to you, silently admiring jason.
you observed how his grown-out wolf cut, his red-haired that was now washed out is slightly messy, making it look like he just rolled out of bed.
your eyes were especially glued to his piercings. from his industrial to his snake bite, god he has so much.
you were more so drawn to his lips, that you could see his tongue-piercing. he purposely toyed with it, flicking his tongue out to tease you.
he licked his lips ever so slowly, his pink tongue grazing over his lower lip, not forgetting to graze over his snake bite. you gulped and looked away to try to get your mind on something else.
you didn't want to pop a boner in someone else's house!
" had enough already? " his sultry voice suddenly asked. you whipped your neck to look at him, eyes wide like a deer caught in a headlight, did he catch me staring..?
you cleared your throat and grabbed a nearby pillow to try to cover your growing hard-on.
" w-what're you talking about? " you glued your eyes towards the tv, trying to seem as unbothered as you can, thou the stuttering clearly gave it away..
jason rolled his eyes and discarded the pillow you were clinging onto, " oh come on, don't play dumb now. "
he pinned you down on the couch, caging you in leaving you no choice but to look at him.
" don't tell me you didn't notice at all.. "
you tried your best to look at him in the eyes, trying to figure out what he was talking about. well, he was really touchy.. his hands always found their way to touch you no matter.
he always knows just where and when to linger his touches to make you slightly flustered, the way he held your waist earlier still not leaving your eyes.
he also never took his eyes off of you ever since you stepped into his house. his eyes always trailing over to wherever you are, observing whatever the hell you are doing.
your cheeks got redder as you turned your head to the side, trying to hide from his gaze. " see i know you were a smart boy, now how far are you willing to go, bunny? "
you clasped your hand over your mouth, eyes rolling back to the back of your head. this is all too lewd!
you peeked down to look at him and the view below you was breathtaking.
jason's messy hair was now slicked back with his sweat, his big hands holding your legs open as his tongue worked its way on your dick. you could feel his tongue piercing along it, the added sensation making your thigh quiver.
you slowly released your hold on your own mouth, breath shaky. " jason, i-i'm close.. " your meal voice was shaky from the amount of pleasure you were experiencing.
he hummed and just continued to suck you, his hand now fondling your balls, massaging them as if to coax you to release.
you gripped the bedsheet below you, the warmth of his mouth mixed with the occasional cold feeling of his piercing was driving you over the edge. with a loud moan, you finally released in his mouth, eyes closing in bliss.
jason swallowed it all, making sure not to leave any drop behind. you didn't know whether to feel grossed out by it or not.
" ready to move on now bunny? " jason asked you while grabbing a bottle of lube, squirting a glob of it on his fingers. you silently nodded and watched as he squirted another glob on your hole.
" cold.. " you whined at him, feeling the chilliness of the lube. " don't worry, i'll warm you right up bunny. " he smiled.
he first inserted one finger into you slowly, letting you get used to the feeling. he began slowly moving it, occasionally grazing over that spot that made you see stars.
he then inserted another and another, steadily picking up his pace and getting more rougher as time went on. your eyes shoot back open as you kept your lips as tight as you could.
you were close and jason seemed to know this too.
before you could reach your climax, he swiftly pulled his fingers out. you looked up at him in confusion, dumbfounded as to why he stopped. " w-why'd you stopped? "
he took off his boxer, tossing it somewhere else. " don't tell me you were gonna cum just from that. the real fun begins now, bunny "
you watched as jason stroked his own dick, pouring lube on it. he was big. maybe too big for you. " are you sure it'll fit.. " you asked him while your eyes still trained on it.
" don't worry.. " he aligned himself with your hole, " i'll make it fit. "
with that, he shoved himself into you, the student action made you let out a loud moan. your eyes instantly teared up from the sudden stretch. you bit your lips to make sure no other noise escaped from you.
he was so big and you felt so.. full. his tip perfectly kissed your prostate, almost as if you were molded just for him.
" look at you taking it so well.. i knew i should've stuffed you full the moment i saw you. "
you stifled another incoming moan. your hands both covered your face, trying to hide your flushed face. two hands suddenly held onto your wrist, effectively prying your hands off of your face.
" don't hide this gorgeous face from me now. "
his own fingers intertwined with your own as he pounded into you roughly, going fast and aggressive from the start. a string of moans left your lips, your voice shaky due to how fast he was.
soon, one of his hands sneaked its way onto your thigh, hoisting it up. you almost screamed from how much deeper he was inside you. you didn't think it was even possible.
" jasonn, i'm near.. " you whined. your own dick bounced and twitched begging for release. " i'm close too, bunny.. cum with me, yeah? "
you nodded while jason held onto your ankles, his fingers digging into the fabric of your converse high. he somehow began speeding up, chasing his own climax.
you closed your mouth with your own hand, knowing damn well your moans were echoing throughout the house already.
with no warning whatsoever, you felt the warm liquid soon filling your inside, dropplings of it escaping from your hole. the feeling of being filled with jason's thick cock mixed with his own cum running down your ass caused you to also release.
you shut your eyes as your release painted your stomach white, some of it landing on jason's.
after a few moments of silence, he then let go of your ankles, slowly pulling out. you winced at the feeling of emptiness. you rolled to the side, jason also crawling next to you.
you soon almost lull yourself to sleep before remembering that tomorrow you have to babysit maya. oh god maya. you prayed she was sleeping like a baby and didn't hear anything.
" shit.. i honestly can't feel my legs and i still have to babysit maya tomorrow... " you groaned out loud next to him, trying to brainstorm an idea on how to babysit that devil in your current state.
jason only laughed next to you. talking about how he'll figure out a way to deal with her tomorrow. you hope he will since you can't miss the pay...
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