#homemade wedding dress

[houseofhandkraft]

From Saree Border & Lace Embroidery to Ribbon Cushion we have got you covered 💕

houseofhandkraft.etsy.com 🛒

In the realm of threads, where whispers of elegance unfurl An Etsy haven, where laces dance and trims swirl 🪡 A trove of treasures, a boutique divine Where fashion and home-decor in harmony entwine ✨

[oflightbeguile]

We loved with a love that was more than love.

[darlingofdots]

the vast majority of fanworks are bad, and that's fine, actually. they are bad for the same reason that the average number of legs for a human person to have is less than two: statistics. like with all endeavours and especially creative ones, most people who write fanfiction or draw art of their favourite characters are bad at it. if you line up all the crochet projects in the world, most of them will be, well, bad. some are bad because they're the first thing a person ever made, or the second or third or tenth, and this kind of thing takes practice. others are bad because the person who made them is just not very good at it. maybe they just learned how to make granny squares and they're perfectly happy to never expand or improve on that. most people who dance or bake or garden or braid hair are not amazing at it! and you'd never go to your kid's dance recital or eat your friend's homemade carrot cake and expect the same experience as you'd have at a professional ballet performance or award-winning bakery. And that's if we assume there is an objective measure of Good Art, which there isn't! Some art is just "bad" because you don't like it!

I think though that specifically with fanfiction, we sometimes forget that when we read a book or watch a movie, dozens of people have looked at it and given feedback and made changes and done quality control before the final product reaches our shelves or screens, and that's not counting the original writer's learning process and past experience. A published book is not anyone's first crochet project, even if it is their debut novel. But with fanfiction, the barrier to entry is so low (on purpose! this is a good thing!) that we do get to see a lot of wonky granny squares, and on sites like AO3 they're sitting on the same shelf as the hand-made silk lace wedding dress and you can't always tell just by looking at it which is which. The consequence of this is that we encounter fic that we think is unpolished, has bad punctuation, is out of character, and we are tempted to think "well, this is awful! how dare this person put this wonky granny square on the same shelf as the lace wedding dress!" But that's not how fandom is supposed to work! That wonky granny square is somebody who is really excited about this TV show they just watched and they are reaching out into the void to share their excitement with you. To scoff at them for not making a lace wedding dress is really, really rude. Even if they did make a lace wedding dress, maybe it's just really not your style, or you think they should have used a different pattern, and it's still their wedding dress. You don't have to wear the dress and you don't have to read the fic.

We all know that there is some fanfic out there that is incredible. I think it's important to talk about that! But the vast majority of people who post their writing online are just sharing their little hobby projects that they make for fun and I also think it's important to remember that.

[rooksamoris]

💞 — 𝐋𝐔𝐍𝐂𝐇 𝐁𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐊𝐒.

💞 — in which professor divus crewel is down bad for his spouse.

💞 — divus crewel x reader

💞 — warnings: none really, just fluff and ace and deuce being ace and deuce.

💞 — around 700 words!! not very long, but yk it came to me when i should have been writing my essay (due tomorrow) since that card came out. ive been hella offline, my cousin had a malwi (yemeni bridal party) yesterday, and the wedding is tomorrow, and my other cousin is in the process of having engagement parties all throughout july--hope you enjoy!

“No way you get bitches,” 

“What was that, Trappola?” Crewel shot a glare at his student who was staring at the picture on his desk.

The picture was of him and his spouse, looking very happy. He looked relaxed in the picture, his arm draped around you while you held his face in your hands and kissed his cheek. The best part was that you were dressed in one of his designs, looking ever so elegant in the fur shawl over your shoulders.

Ace stiffened up and was sent a concerned glance from Deuce, “Uhm, nothing… sir,” he quickly corrected himself.

He could not help it—all the time he spent in Professor Crewel’s class was filled with a certain strictness that he did not think anyone would find appealing. The redhead glanced at the picture again, before back at his professor.

Deuce was sweating, praying to whatever was in the sky that he would not get caught up in whatever trouble Ace would be in. He almost wanted to shake some sense in his dormmate.

Crewel drew the silence out, just for the sake of intimidating his students a little longer before his brows softened. He would not do anything further wreck his mood, not when the love of his life would come over and share lunch with him. He sighed, raising a red gloved hand to pinch the bridge of his nose, “I’ll let it slide this once, pup.”

The cyan-eyed student visibly slumped in relief.

He handed each of them their corrected worksheets. They both had detailed notes written in the margins on what they could do to improve. He pointed out how Ace could use his skills in Magic Analysis and apply them to Alchemy, and gave Deuce examples that could make more sense to him. He was a strict professor, but that did not mean he was a bad professor. He knew his rowdier dogs could improve—he expected them to. He laid out the resources, they just had to use them.

“Thank you, professor!” exclaimed Deuce, bowing his head in respect as he held the page to his chest. Deep down, he appreciated his professor's willingness to correct his work so thoroughly.

Ace nodded, as if sharing the thanks with Deuce, before following his classmate out.

Things stayed quiet before you burst through the doors, carrying lunch bags with you, wearing that smile he loved so much. Your clothes were a bit of a mess, but when were they not? You were always running about and doing something.

Crewel stood from his seat, a softer grin on his face as he stepped forward, his arms reaching out to adjust your outfit. Gentle hands tugged at the collar and fixed your mixed-up buttons, “Now, I wonder what circus you just returned from,”

You laughed and leaned into his touch, “Just the kitchen, nothing too crazy, Divus. I made raisin butter and homemade bread,” you told him, excitedly.

His thumb brushed over some flour left on your cheek, “I can see that much,” he muttered before he moved to your side and slid his hand down to the small of your back, “Come sit,” he said, guiding you to the seat across from his desk.

“You saved me from another lunch spent playing chess with Mozus,”

“Oh, come on. You act like spending time with him is a chore,” you replied, reaching into the bags to set the food on the desk for you guys to share.

He carefully moved his things out of the way, before taking his seat as elegantly as ever, “It’s only a chore when he spends thirty minutes deciding on his next move.”

You rolled your eyes playfully, “One day you’ll be just as old and spending thirty minutes buttoning up your vest. When that happens, I’ll remind you of this conversation.”

He let out a little laugh at that. Your joke just affirmed what he always knew, you would be with him forever, even when white became the natural color of his hair, even once his students were visiting him as adults with their own lives, and thanking him for his harshness. He let out a breath of contentment, before carefully cutting the bread you made for him, “How was work, my love?”

[lulunothulu]

“In sickness and health”

Tyler Owens x Reader

Summary: you’re sick and Tyler makes you feel slightly better 🥰

Content: PURE FLUFF, and some sickness lol

GIF from Pinterest credit to the OG maker 💗

Your head was throbbing when you woke up. Your body aches every time you move and your nose was runny.

Great, you were sick.

Of all the days that you wake up feeling like absolute dog shit, your body decides it wants you to suffer.

What was so important about today? It was yours and Tyler’s first wedding anniversary.

You felt terrible, this was the first anniversary you both happen to be together to celebrate and you were sick.

You pull your hair down from its messy bun and sigh in front of the mirror of your bathroom. “Maybe a shower will help.”

You turn the shower on, waiting for it to warm up and then stepping in once your clothes are in a pile on the floor.

You scrub your body slowly, sighing when you have to sit down on the shower floor to wash your feet and legs. It feels nice down there.

It was a mistake.

You wake up with the shower still spraying you with hot water and Tyler standing over you, eyes full of worry.

“Baby?” He asks.

“Did I fall asleep?” You ask hoarsely.

He nods, turning the shower off and grabbing a towel from the rack. “I walked in to surprise you and you were slumped in the floor.”

“I’m so sorry,” you tell him, wincing when he lifts you into his arms.

“Are you okay?”

“I’m just sore,” you tell him. “My body and head hurt.”

Tyler lays you on the bed before helping get dry and dressed in your pjs.

“You need to regulate your body temperature before I take your temperature for a fever,” he instructs you. “Just lay here and I’ll go shower.”

That’s when you fully notice that Tyler was in his clothes—flannel shirt clinging to his body and dripping onto the floor. 

“I’ll be right back,” he tells you, kissing your forehead.

You only nod because the energy you have left was used to get yourself into your pjs.

———

Tyler gets out of the shower ten minutes later to see you sprawled out on the bed, fast asleep.

He smiles, kissing your forehead after he gets dressed in a pair of sweats and Texas Longhorns t-shirt. “Jesus, she’s burning up.”

Quickly, Tyler goes in the linen closet and grabs a rag before running cold water over it and squeezing the excess water out. He makes his way back to you and places it gently in your head, smoothing your hair down.

Once he sees you’re doing fine with the rag on your head, he heads downstairs to the kitchen. Grabbing carrots, celery, an onion, and some chicken, Tyler starts to make some homemade chicken noodle soup for you.

It’s what his mom used to do for him when he was sick, and he knew it would help you feel better.

After thirty minutes, the soup is simmering on the stove and Tyler needs to check how you’re doing. He walks back upstairs and smiles when he feels the rag on your head.

It’s still fairly warm and you’re sweating, which means your fever has broken. He grabs the Tylenol from the bedside table before filling a glass with water from the carafe on the dresser.

“Sweetheart,” he gently says, shaking you awake. When you open your eyes, he smiles and says, “Can you take this?”

You nod, popping the Tylenol in your mouth and swallowing it down with the water. “Thank you.”

“I have some soup on the stove, do you want me to bring it to you?”

“No,” you croak. “I can go downstairs with you.”

Tyler nods, sweeping you into his arms before carrying you down the stairs and gently placing you on the plush couch.

“I’ll be right back,” he tells you.

When he comes back in a few minutes later, he has a tray with a steaming bowl and a glass of orange juice on top. He places it on your lap before sitting beside you on the couch.

“Eat up, baby.” He kissed your temple before standing and putting on a movie for you to watch while you eat.

He walks back into the kitchen, sighing to himself before grabbing the flowers he’d brought you and putting them in water. You’d have to marvel at them later when you feel a bit better.

“Tyler?” You call out. He makes his way back into the living room to see you looking up at his with sad eyes. “I’m sorry I’m sick on our anniversary.”

“Shh,” he coos with a smile, taking a seat beside you again. “It’s okay, I just wanted to spend the night with you.”

He tilts your head back before kissing your lips, warm and tasting like the soup he’d made you.

You pull away smiling. “I don’t want you to get sick.”

“Hey, I chose to be with you in sickness and health. If I get sick then so be it.”

You close your eyes, kissing him again. When you pull away, you smile up at your husband. “I love you so much, Ty.”

“I love you too, Sweetheart,” he tells you. “Don’t feel any better?”

“I do,” you smile. “I would’ve felt better if you were just here with me anyway.”

“Good,” he smiles. “Now, what do you wanna watch after Toy Story?”

You shrug. “Might as well finish the whole thing.”

———

Halfway into Toy Story 3, you’ve fallen asleep again this time leaning on Tyler’s shoulder. He kisses your head with a smile before laying your head on his lap and stroking your hair.

Sleep was a necessity, especially now that you were sick. Tyler didn’t mind you sleeping. He would’ve been happy if all you wanted to do was sleep your way through your anniversary, as long as he got be around you.

Once the movie finished you slowly sit up and rub your eyes. “Did I fall asleep again?”

“You did,” Tyler smiles. “But that’s fine because you didn’t get to see me cry when Andy drove off.”

You chuckle, snuggling Tyler’s thighs. “That’s too bad.”

You sigh when Tyler’s fingers rub your scalp and you close your eyes.

“How’s your head feeling?” He asks.

“Much better,” you tell him.

“I think it’s time for your second dose of Tylenol so let me go get that.” Tyler stands, carefully helping you sit up before walking to the kitchen and grabbing the pill.

When he walks back in, you’re seated on one side of the couch and scrolling through the movies on the screen. He hands you the pill with a glass of water before sitting down, lifting your legs to rest them on his thighs.

“Hey, we have to catch up on Sex Education,” you tell him. “Kate said she and Javi were gonna finish the season without us.”

Tyler snorts. “Of course she did. Alright, let’s watch it.”

After a few episodes, Tyler begins to rub a your feet making you moan. “That’s feels so nice.”

“I know,” he smiles.

“Thank you,” you start. “For making me feel a bit better than I was this morning.”

Tyler only shrugs. “That’s my job. As your husband, I’m supposed to make you feel better and take care of you. And you know I don’t half ass anything, when it comes to you.”

“God, that’s so cheesy,” you laugh.

“Cheesy, but true.”

“Kiss me again and tell me you love me,” you tell him.

“Gladly,” Tyler’s says before leaning over and kissing you softly. “I love you, Mrs. Owens.”

You smile. “And I love you, Mr. Owens.”

[goldenlikedayl1ght]

dress - m. murdock

a/n: i am not proud of this in the way that i will not be claiming it when i am judged by god. warnings: SMUT like real sex!!! dom!matt, p in v smut, matt has a thing for talking in bed, MATT BEING A TEASE!!! many nicknames, pining, praise with slight degradation, fluff here and there, tipsy reader and matt, i'm sure i'm missing one or two word count: 3.3k summary: ten months of yearning wears you and matt down to desperation. pairing: matt murdock x fem!reader now playing: dress - taylor swift "say my name and everything just stops/i dont want you like a best friend/only bought this dress so you could take it off."

Foggy is so mad at him.

You’re a good employee, a great employee even! You’re dedicated to your job, and you bake in your free time, so you bring in all sorts of treats—Homemade bagels, donuts, cookies—His favorite are your cinnamon chai sugar cookies you make.

You’re intelligent, well-spoken, and good at explaining the issues that you run into. And you’re funny, Foggy would argue, you have incredible timing and wit. You always buy a round at Josies. You are an amazing employee and friend, and Foggy adores you.

So why, pray tell, must Matt feel the need to have you?

He won’t say it out loud, not to Karen, not to Maggie, not to Foggy, and certainly not you. But he’s entranced by you. He loves the sound of your voice as you explain things, he loves that your heart always skips a beat whenever you’re about to deliver a one liner that will crack everyone else up, he loves that when you bake, you always make things all naturally out of desire to make the best dessert you possibly can. But most of all?

He loves that your heart rate picks up whenever he enters the room.

You, on the other hand, are pretty much fascinated by Matt Murdock. You love the sound of his laughter, you love his hands, you love his charm, you love that you can see a chain around his neck when the day dwindles and he loosens his tie, and Jesus H Christ, you love that baritone.

So, it’s safe to say you’ve both been smitten since the first day you met each other.

Yet, you spend ten months cruelly dancing around your attraction for each other.

He’s hesitant to want you in any context, he’s your boss, he’s fucking Daredevil!

By then you know—Mostly accidentally on purpose. All his usual people are out of town or busy, so when he gets stabbed, he has nowhere else to go. He winds up climbing into your window, scaring the ever-living shit out of you. It’s not how he wanted to tell you about his alter ego, but he knows he can trust you.

And you hate the site of blood and gore, so you struggle to patch him up that night. And it makes your heart ache, all the ways he hurts from his nighttime hobby. And he decides right then and there that he can’t have you, not now. Not knowing how much you would—and really, will—worry about him.

So, he buries his want in other people that have no real meaning to him. He even goes on a second date with some of them. One of them even comes to visit him in the office to have lunch.

It makes you jealous to the point where you need to take a walk to dwindle your desire to go back into the office and beg on your hands and knees for her to leave so you can have him. What happens instead is that you go get a pumpkin chai latte and take it back to the office, sitting and keeping to yourself, even when the girl comes out of his office giggling as he stands in the doorway as she leaves.

He smells the pumpkin from his office, and it drives him wild. Just from how quietly you dwell in your jealousy, as you mask it with your favorite fall flavors.

He breaks up with the girl the next day.

• • •

And a week later, he gets his official invitation to Marci and Foggy’s wedding—A big to do, full of family, friends and coworkers that make it a real party. Matt will be Foggy’s best man. You and Karen aren’t in the wedding party, as you were good friends with both the bride and groom, but Karen wanted to make sure at least one of them was focused on the firm, and you hated to be the center of attention. So, you shared your love from a few aisles back.

You had gone shopping with Marci for your dress, Karen too. You enjoyed spending time with them—While you had made friends with them easily, prior friends had never really come easy to you.

It was nice to be wanted.

But they had insisted on you trying to find different dresses that made you look amazing. And for the most part, the dresses made you sort of uncomfortable. They revealed too much or revealed too little.

And then you came across this red satin dress. It hugs your curves in all the right way, and it makes you look good. It makes you feel good. You have these perfect black heels to wear with them, and then Karen says it.

“You know, Matt kind of has a thing about textures. He loves silk and satin.” Your face burns. Of course, he does. Why wouldn’t he? He can hear people's heartbeats, tell when they’re lying, why wouldn’t he be keen on nice textures?

“Karen Page, are you insisting I should by this dress to impress a man?” You laugh just to escape your nerves.

“No! But it can’t hurt! It’s not like he’s bringing a date—” She turns to Marci. “He’s not bringing a date, right?” she asks quickly. It makes her laugh.

“No, Murdock RVSP’ed for one.”  You look at yourself in the mirror again, thinking it over. And over. And over. Then you turn to your friends again, and nod.

“Alright. Alright, I’ll get it.” You grin, “And y’know.. Karen’s right, It can’t make the situation any worse.”

“You know what you need now? Good lingerie for after—” Your face is red again at your friend’s comment.

“Shut up, Marci!” You whine, heading back to the dressing room to get changed.

• • •

Matt is sitting with Foggy and his brothers, enjoying a glass of scotch before the ceremony when someone knocks on the door.

And somehow, he’s not shocked to hear your nervous heartbeat when the door opens.

“Hey Fog, Karen said you had scissors—Can I borrow ‘em quick? There’s a tag on this dress I forgot to take off and it’s impossible to reach—”

“Yes, Absolutely, and you know who would be great at helping you? Matt. An incredible knack for… Cutting things.” It’s a poor attempt to get the two of you alone, yet Foggy hands you the scissors and pushes you and Matt outside the room.

“My rooms only two doors down.” He explains, taking your hand in his and leading you there.

After finding out about his super senses, it became clear that he was more than capable of finding his way through places he’s stayed, and that he’s privy to a lot more information than people would give him credit for.

So here you are. In Matt Murdock’s hotel room. A tag itching at your back, with you unable to grab it.

“I’m just gonna—” He awkwardly reaches to the top of your dress, and you just move the hair from your neck and try to ease his anxiety.

“Just go for it, Matt. I don’t care, it’s just annoying.” You promise. And he does.

He folds the top of your dress the best he can and its only enough for the scissors to almost grab the tag without him sticking his hand down your dress. He hesitates for a second before exhaling deeply.

Then, he leans down towards your back, and scrunches the material enough so that he can reach the tag and bites the tag off.

You can feel his other hand on your hip. His hot breath on your back. He hears your heart jump as your breath becomes shaky. He wonders how bad it would be for him to skip the wedding and take you right here, in this room.

He plucks the tag from his teeth and smooths out your dress, as you let go of your hair. He feels this raw need for you.

And you feel it too. Yet he pulls away, taking a step back from you.

“We should get to the ceremony.” he said, trying to catch his breath. He yearns for you, in a way that anyone else would laugh at. It’s the type of yearning you read about in Jane Austen novels. That is the level that Matt longs to touch you. It’s desperation.

“Yeah...” You say softly, trying to recover from what just happened. You drop him back off at Foggy’s suite and head back to the hall, hoping to find Karen and put the moment behind you. And that’s just what happens. You watch the ceremony, and it’s gorgeous. You’re thrilled for Marci and Foggy, and it elates you that they put together such a beautiful ceremony.

And yet, you can’t take your eyes off Matt and how good he looks. He stands tall, and he really does look good. It makes it kind of hard to focus. It makes it really hard to focus. And you think about this all the way through their first dance song, through dinner, through cake and through all the cheesy wedding traditions Foggy insisted on.

You have a few drinks but eventually it all becomes too much, and you take a minute outside of the hall and into the cold air. And you’re thinking about Matt.

“You’re gonna catch a cold out here.”

Speak of the devil.

You turn back to him and smile.

“I’ve been thinking about you.” You say, and he hums. It’s the alcohol in both of your systems, it’s why neither of you run when you say it.

“Same goes for you, sweetheart.” He takes off his coat and wraps it around your shoulders. You note the silky texture of the inside of the jacket. It pushes you further.

“Why do we insist on playing this game? Why do we watch each other go after people who we don’t want when all we want is each other?”

He takes a moment to answer. Because in truth, he’s sure he could tell you why, he could discuss all of the horrible things that have happened to him, and you could share the same sort of stories about your own life. You could sit there and dissect past traumas for hours.

But that’s not really what you’re asking.

“I don’t know...” He says softly. His hands find themselves on your hips, and he rubs small circles into the fabric. “Satin?” You hum, melting at his touch. “Words, pretty girl. You know I like hearing your voice.”

“Satin.” You confirm, your breath catching.

“There she is...” He hums, and leans in. You feel his breath against your lip, and you take it upon yourself to close the gap between the two of you.

It’s soft, full of this hesitation because despite all the flirting, you’re still unsure of yourself. He quickly eases these fears as his hands move and you find his arms wrapped around your torso. He deepens the kiss, and you both lean into it. It becomes more desperate after that.

Your hands find their way to his hair, and you fiddle with the ends, unwilling to break the kiss, even if it means air. He breaks the kiss for a second, only to come back to your lips with more passion, biting your bottom lip, before slipping his tongue into your mouth, taking the more aggressive approach.

And you can’t take it anymore. You need him. You pull away from him, pant softly before kissing his jaw gently.

“Take me to your room.” You request. He obliges.

You find yourself taking off your heels as soon as you get in, your feet aching as you walk further into the room. The context is much different than it was this afternoon—And it makes you nervous.

Matt comes up from behind you and places his hands on your arms, rubbing them gently, before kissing your shoulder.

“You don’t have to be nervous. I’ll be gentle with you...” He says softly. You hum before he continues, “Or do you... want me to be rough with you?” he asks teasingly, landing a quick bite onto your shoulder. You make a noise of surprise and turn to him.

“You’re a tease, has anyone ever told you that?”

“Once or twice.” He begins to loosen his tie, eventually forcing it off and then starting to unbutton his shirt. You begin to help him with this task, eventually getting it all the way unbuttoned. Then you gently push him back against the bed and he laughs, falling onto it.

He thinks it’s cute. Until you sit above him, your dress hiking a bit. You lean down to kiss him as his hands find their way to the back of your thighs, and begin to move up and down, just being the tease, he is.

You whine into the kiss, and it just makes him chuckle further, before flipping the pair of you over, then planting a kiss on your neck.

“What’s the matter, sweetheart? Needy from just a few kisses?” He slips off his shirt as he continues to kiss you. One hand remains on your thigh, travelling up your thigh, eventually finding your panties.

“Mhm...” You hum, your hands wrapping around his neck again to play with his hair.

“Talk to me, sweet girl...” he says softly before he continues his assault on your neck.

“Matt…” You hum. “You know, I only—” Then his fingers find your clit and begin rubbing gentle circles, just teasing you with his fingers. It turns him from tease to cruel. You let out a moan, and he only tuts in disappointment.

“Keep talking or you won’t get anything from me.” He tells you, before continuing to tease you. His fingers begin to work on your folds. You try your best to focus. He takes off your panties and throws them on the ground somewhere.

“Only bought this dress for you... Thought you might like it...” You gasp again as he slips a finger into you, “Fuck—Thought it would make you do something about it.” In fairness, it got the reaction you had only hoped for in your wildest dreams. It makes him chuckle against your skin.

“Only got this pretty little dress for me to touch you like this?” He adds another finger and starts to move. When you don’t answer, too busy getting lost in his fingers, he bites your shoulder again. “Answer me, sweetheart.”

“Yes! God, yes…” You respond. He hums in approval, continuing to curl his fingers inside of you. It only takes a few minutes before you can feel yourself near the edge of an orgasm. “Matt… Baby, please...”

“C’mon, sweet girl... I’ve got you, let go...” And it’s enough to make you, cumming all over his fingers. He lets you ride out your high, out of breath. He kisses your neck again before bringing his fingers up to his lips, tasting your juices. “Sweet girl, still.” He smirks. Your heart skips a beat. He chuckles. Then he continues, “Did so good for me, sweetheart... Wanna keep going?” He asks.

“Yes, please... Wanna feel you inside me...” you confess.

“You want me to fill you up and stretch you out, pretty girl?” You should know better by now, but you just hum in response, gaining another bite to your shoulder. “Try again.”

“Yes... I want you so badly, Matt, please... I’ve been dreaming about it for months now,” You confess, “Need you...”  He seems satisfied by this, and moves back, helping you sit up.

“Well then, we’ll need to get this pretty dress off you.” He says, his fingers working to take off his belt. Your fingers run over his chest. It’s all he can do not to rip the dress off, but he knows how much it means to you and how much it could’ve cost. So, instead, he slips the dress off you and feels you shiver against him. Still so nervous. He tosses the dress in the general direction of his suitcase, so it doesn’t sit on the floor. He leans in and starts pressing kisses to your chest, his hands reaching up to your bra and unclasping it. He throws it with much less care than the dress.

He keeps kissing down your torso as he lays you back on the bed, your hands going again to his hair.

“How come it’s fair that I’m fully naked, and you still have pants on?” You ask. It makes him laugh, and he stands straight again.

“Fair enough,” he says, taking them off. And then goes his boxers. Before you can stare at him, he’s on top of you again, kissing you deeply. You can feel his cock resting against your fold and it makes you moan into the kiss. He pulls away for just a second before asking, “Is this, okay? You’ll stop me if it’s too much?”

“Yeah, I’ll tell you.” You respond. He smiles at your words.

“Perfect. Perfect, pretty girl...” He hums as he begins to kiss your shoulders and the top of your chest, before slipping inside of you. You let out a moan, and he groans as well, taking a few minutes to take all of you in. It feels amazing. He begins to move inside of you as he brings you in for another kiss. When he pulls away, he’s talking, “Been thinking about this for... Fuck, so long...” He groans. “Been dreaming of this perfect pussy and how good it would feel around me…” He says, and it elicits a shaky moan from you.

“Faster, please...” You request, and he obliges, picking up the pace. You’ve been thinking about this for a long time too. You never imagined he’d be so controlling about the whole thing. It works you up almost as much as how vocal he is.

He leaves bites and marks down your chest as he pulls you closer to him, knowing he won’t last much longer. He feels you tighten around him and makes another demand, “Tell me how badly you want to cum, and I’ll let you.” He says this before planting a rather contrasting soft kiss to your ear.

“Please... Please, Matt, Fuck... I need to cum all over your cock... Wanna feel so good, baby...” You moan, your fingers pulling on his hair. It excites you when he moans. “And I want you to cum inside me... Fill me up, Baby, please...” You beg. He’s happy with it for now, but he knows he’ll want to hear more another time.

“C’mon, sweet girl. Cum for me…” He pants, and it’s all you need before you let yourself come undone around his cock. He continues thrusting for a few minutes, letting you ride out your high, before cumming himself, and you moan at the feeling. He lays against you for a few minutes, trying to recover, and it’s then that you notice he’s shaking.

“Are you okay?” You ask softly, brushing his hair out of his face. He looks at you with those gorgeous brown eyes. He laughs at your question.

“I’m great... You’re just... amazing...” he says honestly, kissing your shoulder one more time. “Perfect, pretty girl...” He praises. “My perfect girl...” It makes you shudder. He stays like this for a moment more before kissing you softly. Then, he sits up and goes to get a towel to clean the both of you up. And then, he’s back in bed with you. He pulls you close as you both recover from what just happened.

“I wasn’t lying,” You start, “I’ve been thinking about you for months. You’re all I’ve wanted for so long...” You confess. He kisses your head and pulls you closer.

“Me too... I was too much of an idiot to tell you though. Almost let you get away.”

“You got me.” You affirm. He hums and begins to rub all too familiar circles into your hips with his thumbs.

“And now I just want you more.”

The feeling is mutual.

[cloudzoro]

Take Care | Kento Nanami ♡

♡•♡•♡•♡•♡•♡•♡•♡•♡•♡•♡•♡

genre: smut (minors dni)

pairings: kento nanami x fem reader

wc: 2.6k words

cw: sex on the kitchen counter, biting, cunnilingus, multiple orgasms, kind of vanilla, intimate and loving :((((

masterlist here

♡•♡•♡•♡•♡•♡•♡•♡•♡•♡•♡•♡

It's your two year wedding anniversary and your husband, Kento, arrives home earlier than expected. He behaves during the dinner you've made but as soon as he polishes off the last bite he takes it upon himself to show you how deeply he feels for you.

♡•♡•♡•♡•♡•♡•♡•♡•♡•♡•♡•♡

Smooth music plays through the kitchen speakers as you tie your apron around your waist, careful not to ruin your outfit. It's your anniversary, and you want to do something nice for your husband. You decided on cooking a big meal (including a homemade dessert) and dressing up to eat at home. Nanami was at work, so you had plenty of time to perfect everything. Or so you thought.

In your panic to get everything set up, you fail to notice your husband standing in the doorway to your kitchen, leaning against the doorframe with his arms crossed over his chest. He watches as you move around the kitchen in your pretty dress with a smile on his face. Despite his attempts to push away his many horny thoughts, he feels the tent in his trousers growing. When the fog clears in his brain, and he sees that you're dishing up the food, he decides to be a good husband and wait until after dinner to fuck your brains out. You turn around and almost drop the plate in your hands.

"Kento!" you squeal, both startled because you hadn't heard him come in and excited to have him home finally. "When did you get here?" you ask, reaching around to untie your apron. He wouldn't voice the momentary disappointment he feels when you take off the thing that was playing right into his dirtiest fantasies, but that washes away when he sees the beauty of a dress you have on beneath it. If he was right about the garter straps and stockings, you had also dressed up underneath that.

"I booked the day off without telling you. I've been out all day getting you these," he hums, lifting a bag of boxes. You can't be mad at Nanami for lying to you when he was home earlier than expected and holding what looked like expensive gifts for you. "I got back a while ago."

"Why didn't you say anything?" you ask as he places the bag of gifts on the counter where there is space and walks over to you to kiss you. He wraps his buff arms around your waist, drops his head to kiss your neck, and speaks softly in your ear.

"I was enjoying the show. You're a pleasure to watch, you know," he hums, pressing another kiss to your neck and standing up straight again. Your attempts to cool yourself down and stop the blood rushing to your cheeks do not go unnoticed by your husband, who smirks at you. He steps back and lets you place the full plates on the table. "I'm starving, baby. That looks so good," he practically growls. Nanami doesn't immediately sit down, though. He makes sure to be the gentleman he usually is and pulls out your chair so you can sit first. He then takes his seat opposite you and digs into his food.

As the two of you eat, you fall into a comfortable silence, interrupted now and then by chatter about your daily lives. He lets out a satisfied groan after he swallows down his final bite and flashes you a grin. "Sweetheart, you have outdone yourself."

You chuckle at his dramatics, but you know he means it. "Was it that good?"

"Marrying you is the best decision I've ever made. Now come here so I can compliment the chef," he says, patting his lap. You obey and round to the table to perch on his thigh. He leans forward to kiss your jaw and slides his hand under your dress. "I am so lucky to have a wife like you."

"Want your presents?" He asks, scraping his teeth against the skin of your neck. You nod, getting off his lap. He instructs you to sit in his previous seat as he grabs a medium-sized box and kneels before you, placing the box on your lap. He waits with a knowing smile as you lift the lid off the box. He holds back a laugh at your gasp of surprise when you see what's inside. It's a pair of shoes, a very expensive pair of heels, that you've been eyeing for weeks.

“Oh my god, Kento”, you take one of the shoes, hold it up, and examine it. Nanami takes it from you and puts it on your foot after helping you rid yourself of your old shoes. You let him do the same with the other shoe and stand up to give him a twirl. You feel sexy in the heels, and he looks like he's about ready to eat you alive. He turns you around to tug the zip on the back of your dress and licks his lips at the realisation that his earlier prediction about your lingerie choices is correct. You're wearing your nicest set, a black one he bought for you on your first anniversary.

“Like what you see?”

Nanami doesn’t respond, pulling your dress down your body instead. He grabs your hand and presses a kiss to the back of it. You giggle at his cheesiness and let him push you back into the chair. You sit down and let your husband push your legs apart. He sweetly smiles at how pliant you are, allowing him to spread your legs and hold them so you are on display for him. He takes great pride in the fact that you trust him enough to let him take control. He presses a kiss to your ankle over your stockings and makes his way up your legs, making sure both legs receive a substantial amount of love. He pauses his ascent towards your cunt to suck a mark into your thigh right above the lace. Nanami wordlessly unclips the straps holding up your tights and pulls your underwear down your legs, flinging them somewhere behind him and reclipping the garter belt.

“Want you to keep these on for me, ok? They look so fucking pretty on you,” he says, pressing another kiss to your thigh and smoothing his hands up your calves. He helps situate you on the edge of the chair more, then leans in to lick a single stripe through your folds teasingly. He chuckles lowly at the whine that escapes your throat when he pulls away. "sorry baby, I'll stop teasing."

"Baby, please"

To him, your voice is the prettiest sound he's ever heard, and he can't just ignore your plea. So he finally puts his head back between your legs. He eats your pussy like a starved man, the grip on your hips feels just tight enough, and your nails scratch against his scalp as you thread your fingers through his hair. He pulls away for a second, and you hear a wet noise, only to feel two fingers pushing into you a second later.

"gotta work you, open baby, you know you can't take me without help."

He practically growls against your cunt as he feels you clench around his fingers. You're so engrossed in the feeling of his mouth on you that It doesn't take long for you to cum. You ignore the slight embarrassment of not lasting long to whine instead about how he refuses to let up with his tongue.

Nanami waits until you physically push him away from you to stop and then comes up to meet you in a kiss after licking your taste off of his fingers. He trails his lips down your neck and past your collarbones, smirking as you squirm slightly beneath him. As he works on leaving possessive marks on your chest, his thoughts drift back to you in your dress and apron, bending over to reach the plates, and he can't stop himself from lifting you and placing you onto the counter where the bag of gifts was.

There's something about fucking you on the kitchen counter that satisfies the traditional wife fetish that you seem to have unlocked within him. It's not the idea of owning you but more the idea of coming home to a doting wife that he gets to spoil and look after that gets him hard. It's such an innocent thing that he almost resents the way his cock twitches when he hyper-focuses on your wedding ring. Not to mention how the domestic aspects of the fantasy fuel his breeding kink. He wants more than anything to knock you up. He'd wait a bit for that, though.

He tries to stop his train of thought so that he can focus on your moans as he pushes his cock inside you. The whine you let out is broken and desperate.

"I know baby, I know. You take me so well, though," he soothes, rubbing at your hips as he eases himself further inside you. He's so big; he fills you up in a way you didn't think was possible. You try to focus on the way his lips press against your shoulder, but you struggle to form a coherent thought at all while he's inside you.

"Kento", you whine, unable to do much more than that. You attempt to roll your hips a little as a hint to get him to move, and it works. He starts slower, almost teasing, as he thrusts into you. He's trained you to take him over the years, and being able to take him is something you take pride in. That's why when he tells you how good you feel wrapped around his cock, you grin at the praise, and your grip on his shoulders gets stronger. Luckily, Nanami likes the sting of your nails digging into his back, so the feeling only spurs him on.

As his pace picks up, you find yourself unable to hold back your moans. You let out a particularly loud, whiny moan, and he chuckles, leaning toward your ear to respond.

"yeah? Is that good, baby?" He asks, repeating your words from earlier. You pitifully whimper at his question, and he decides it's not a good enough response. He wants you to be louder, to scream and cry about how good his cock makes you feel. "I asked you a question, my love. It would be rude not to answer," You attempt to answer - you really do- but you just can't get more than two syllables out before you're interrupted by a moan that's more akin to a scream through gritted teeth and it's a noise that makes his cock twitch inside you. He watches with a shit-eating grin on his face as you try again, but he adds more force into his thrusts just as you get the words out, and you're gone. Tears threaten to spill, and you claw more frantically at his already marked-up back. He leans back to admire your exhausted face, and he can't help the way his devilish grin softens to a goofy, lovesick smile. 'there she is,' he thinks as he watches your tongue drop involuntarily out of your mouth. 'that's my girl.'

"It's ok baby", he coos as he surges forward to bring into a kiss that could only be described as 'nasty'. He hums in satisfaction at your desperation to return the kiss. "I get it. It's hard to think when you're being fucked stupid. I understand," and he does; he does understand because your pussy makes him equally as delirious.

You clench around him. You could listen to him talk for hours. You're so close, and he knows it too. "cum for me.”

It's all too much for you, and you cum almost immediately. Nanami’s nearly sent over the edge by the way your pussy practically strangles his cock, but he holds off the best he can as he works you through the aftershocks of your orgasm. He thinks you look so beautiful when you cum, and he makes sure to tell you so as he throws praise at you by the bucket making sure you know just how he feels about you. He looks up at you, and you nod, silently permitting him to finish himself off inside you. You whine at the sensitivity as he moves again. All it takes is two thrusts before he's on the edge.

"Where do you want it, baby?"

As soon as the word "inside" leaves your mouth, his mind is reverted to his earlier thoughts of breeding his pretty little wife, and he cums almost immediately. You watch intently as his body tenses, and he spills inside of you. It leaves you feeling full, but you're still not entirely satisfied and know he's not either. As soon as your husband looks up from where his cum is leaking from your pussy he recognises the expression on your face.

"I can't believe how fucking lucky I am", he growls, picking you up and carrying you towards your bedroom. As your back hits the mattress, you lock eyes with Nanami, who simply smiles at you before kissing your forehead and whispering, “Happy Anniversary”.

Nanami cuts off your reply as he presses his lips to yours. He kisses down your neck, and you moan when his teeth sink into the skin. “I love you” you whine.

“I'm so glad that you do.” his voice is softer now, and he smiles against your neck. He leaves a gentle peck against the mark he left on your neck and pushes himself up to sit back on his knees. His hand strokes from your waist to your knees, eyes taking in the sight of you laid out before him. “But baby girl, no matter how much you love me, it cannot possibly come close to how much I love you.” The affection shocks you into complete silence as tears well in your eyes. Your entire body is trembling as if the love you harbour for the man above you is causing you to tear apart at the seams. “You're so smart, so bright and funny, and so so beautiful.” he lifts one of your legs to his mouth and kisses your calf. His hands smooth over as much of your skin as possible, even reaching underneath you to remove your bra. He plays with your tits as he continues to praise you. A tear escapes, and your husband immediately brings a hand up to wipe the tear away.

“My sweet wife,” he says, looking down to line up his cock with your hole. He pushes in, and you arch your back, whining at the stretch.

“Kento, please.”

“Whatever you need, baby, I'll do whatever you want”, he assures you as he speeds up his thrusts. He originally intended to flip you over on your hands and knees, but he needs to your face as he makes you cum. Your hands grip his shoulders as he speeds his thrusts, grinning above you as your back arches and presses your chest against his. His notorious composure is wholly unravelled by the feeling of your pussy squeezing around his cock. You’re fairing no better, reduced to tears as your husband all but tears a third orgasm out of you. He follows close behind you, filling you up. He does his best to work the both of you through your orgasms, continuing to rut his hips until both of you are completely worn out. You know you are probably unable to take another orgasm for the time being, so you relax into the bed and try to calm your frantic breathing. Nanami puts all his weight onto you, catching his breath and panting into your skin. He presses small kisses all over your shoulder and collarbone. You both lay there in silence, his cock still inside you, basking in the warmth of each other.

When he’s ready to separate himself, he pulls out, wincing at the way you hiss. The whine you give when he leaves the bed makes him chuckle. He undoes your garters and pulls off your stockings.

“Don’t move a muscle”, he says, pushing his hand underneath you to scoop you up in his arms. “Just let me take care of you and clean you up”, he says, carrying you to the shower to clean up. You settle against his chest with a smile on your face.

Kento Nanami always takes care of you.

♡•♡•♡•♡•♡•♡•♡•♡•♡•♡•♡•♡

hope you enjoyed! I love kento so bad :((( I'm missing him so much rn. reblogs, likes and comments are massively appreciated!!!!

[catladyoftheyr]

Dress

Harvey x Fem reader (18+!!)

Summary: you and Harvey engage in passionate *ahem* intimacy on your wedding night.

Warnings: alcohol (champagne), SMUT, cunnilingus, teasing, unprotected PiV intercourse

A/n: none of you can stop me from naming my fics after music I like sorry 😙 (only bought this dress for you take it off)

Word count: 2k apparently??

You and Harvey had just arrived home from the Saloon after a night of celebrating. After all, it was your wedding night. The two of you were still in your formal clothes, albeit his bow tie was askew and your veil had been sliding down slowly. You stood on the porch flushed and giggling like teenagers at the prom. You opened the door but before you could step inside Harvey swept you into his arms.

“What kind of husband would I be if I didn’t carry my bride across the threshold?” You nuzzled into his neck in response as he carried you through the entryway. Harvey set you down gently, adjusting your veil and pressing his lips against your forehead. You made an attempt to straighten his bow tie to no avail.

“Champagne?” You asked, retrieving the bottle from the fridge.

“I’d be delighted” Harvey took the bottle from you and gave the bottle a firm twist while aiming toward the sink. There was a loud POP! And you jumped as the cork flew toward you. “Sorry!!”

You laughed as you produced two flutes from the cupboard and Harvey poured the wine. You sipped in momentary, but blissful and comfortable silence. It had been a long day and you were pleased to be alone with your husband. “Put on a record, would you please, darling?” You inquired.

“Of course. Any requests?”

You shook your head and finished your champagne. Harvey set the needle down on the vinyl and you heard a familiar tune begin to play. It was the same album you’d listened to the first time you hung out in his apartment above the clinic. You’d brought him a jar of homemade pickles as an excuse to run into him. Harvey approached and extended his hand to you. “May I have one more dance tonight?”

You clasped hands as you came to your feet. His hand slid to the small of your back and yours on his shoulder. You moved slowly and deliberately as a pair, taking in all of each other. You swayed lightly back and forth in each other’s hold. Harvey brought your hands to his mouth and kissed softly. “I love you.”

“I love you”. You’d exchanged the words innumerable times before, but they felt different tonight. The start of the rest of your lives together. The doctor and the farmer, a pairing you’d never imagined, but now could never dream of anything different. You thought of Evelyn and George, who’d been married over 50 years. How they still remembered their first date in this very town.

“I’m so glad I met you. You.. mean the world to me.” His brown eyes were filled with sincerity. “I can’t imagine a life without you. I know I’m not very exciting, but I’d follow you to the ends of the earth if it meant getting to hold your hand. I love the life we’re starting to build together.”

“Oh, Harvey.” You felt tears well in your eyes. You’d been rendered speechless by his words. Completely overcome by his honesty and devotion. In lieu of speech you pressed your lips together. His mustache brushed against your upper lip as he kissed back.

You dropped the formalities of the slow dance and wrapped your arms around each other as your kiss deepened. You broke the kiss briefly, your lipstick smudged on his face and mustache. “I want you. All of you.”

Harvey understood and kissed you again, passionately. You grabbed his hair and pulled him as close as you could. Your mouth opened and let your tongue enter his. You kissed until you needed to come up for air, stumbling toward the bed. You felt around your hair frenetically, trying to find the comb holding it in place. “Help me get this damn thing off” you demanded. Harvey obliged and set it somewhere. You pulled at his bow tie and tossed it across the room when it came free. You pulled his face to yours again as you sat on the edge of the bed.

Harvey began undoing the buttons on his shirt as quickly as he could. Not fast enough for you however. You tried to take over and popped off several buttons trying to pull it off of him. The shirt landed on the floor and you ran your hands down his chest, trailing the strip of hair that disappeared under the waistband of his slacks. “My turn” he whispered as he slid one of the straps of your dress down your shoulder. He laid you back and kissed you again before brushing his lips against your earlobe. His lips moved to your neck, pausing to suck against your throat.

“People will see” you gasped between soft moans.

“Let them see - That you’re mine” his voice dripped with lust and he returned to marking your neck. Harvey had never said anything like that before and the sudden claiming stirred something between your thighs. He continued to kiss and suck his way down your collarbones, leaving a trail of dark marks behind. His hands found their way to your breasts and massaged them beneath the silk fabric of your wedding dress. “Sit up for a sec.” You brought yourself up onto your hands and Harvey unzipped your gown, helping you slide it down your body.

The gown in a pool on the floor next to his shirt left you in only a bra and panties. Harvey’s eyes slowly grazed over the sight before him, the hardness in pants straining. “You’re so beautiful, love.” Your lips met again as his bare chest pressed against your newly exposed skin. Your hands found footing on his back and you tried to pull him even closer. You opened your legs to let his bulge rub against your mound. The doctor sucked and kissed on your neck some more as he rubbed against your sex. Your clit throbbed, desperate for attention.

“Harvey, please, I need more” you gasped breathlessly. You reached behind your back to unclip your bra and threw it out of the way. Your breasts spilled out and your nipples sat hard and at attention. Harvey stopped in his tracks and his gaze was fixed on your chest.

“Fuck. You’re so gorgeous. I love your breasts. You’re so perfect.” He leant down and took one of your nipples into his mouth, eliciting a soft gasp from you as he swirled his tongue around it. His other hand trailed downward, cupping your pussy. You ground up into his hand trying to increase the pressure, to gain even an ounce of friction. Harvey alternated which nipple he played with and then finally dipped his hands beneath the hem of your underwear. “You’re already so wet, darling.” His fingers glided between your folds with ease, gently circling your clit but never making the direct contact you longed for.

You squirmed beneath him and panted. You’d had enough and grabbed his arm, guiding his hand so that the heel of his palm was flat against your clit. Harvey took the hint and grinded his hand against you, teasing your entrance with his fingertips. You were practically humping his hand chasing the pleasure that was beginning to build. “Harvey please fuck me. I need you inside of me.”

“Not yet my love, I promise I’ll make it worth it. Be a good girl for me.”

You looked up at him with pleading eyes as he removed his hand. Before you could object he tugged on your panties and pulled them down your legs. You were fully exposed now, your pussy glistening with your own wetness. The doctor had a devilish grin on his face before laying on his stomach between your legs. Without warning he pulled you down toward him and began to suck on your clit. You cried out as his lips pursed around the nub. He swirled his tongue around it and his grip on your hips was unrelenting. Mustache hairs added to the friction as you ground against his mouth. You could feel your orgasm building rapidly as he gave fervent attention to your sex. You felt two fingers enter you, curling up and hitting the sweet spot inside you.

Harvey had begun rutting against the bed as he tasted you. His cock was still straining against his pants and he was desperate for a release but he powered through. Tonight was about you he thought to himself. It was about giving his beautiful bride as much pleasure as humanly possible. Your legs were clamped around his head, and you were shifting against him trying to reach your peak. “Ahh-ahh! I’m gonna cum! I’m so close, Harvey- please don’t stop!”

Harvey quickened the pace of his fingers and sucked more firmly on your clit. He felt you tense up clench around his fingers as your orgasm crashed through you. Your legs were a vice grip around him as he continued to to lick and suck and fuck through your orgasm, not stopping until you let your legs fall to the bed. He pulled away and went to wipe his mustache, but stopped and pulled you up into another kiss.

You tasted yourself on Harvey’s lips as you pressed against him. You were still riding the high of your orgasm but weren’t satiated yet. You ached for the fullness that came from Harvey’s cock inside of you. “Lay down” you whispered into his ear, pressing your husband's shoulders down toward the bed. It was your turn to take control. Harvey laid flat on the bed, looking up at you with a mixture of love and unadulterated lust. You wanted so badly to tease him the way he did you, to drag it out and hear him beg and whimper. But you couldn’t take it anymore. Your hands undid his belt quickly, immediately undoing his pants as soon as you were able. You could see the outline of his cock through his boxers, a wet spot had formed where his tip sat.

“You’re so needy for me, baby” you cooed as you pulled down his pants and underwear in one smooth motion. His cock sprang to attention, his head glistening with leaking precum. It took every ounce of self control you had to not immediately sink yourself down onto him. Instead you opted to wrap both hands around his length, pumping quickly as he cried out. He was slightly above average in length, but considerably girthy. Your hands could wrap around him, but only barely. You spit in one of your palms and resumed stroking him, using his precum as added lubricant. Harvey had started bucking his hips, fucking into your hands.

“P-please. I need you so bad” He pleaded, eyes rolling back. You couldn’t deny either of you any longer, and used his waist for leverage as you lowered yourself onto his cock. You sank slowly, savoring the familiar stretch before you hit the base. You both moaned from the feeling of being so close. You leaned forward as you began to bounce slowly; Your breasts fell forward and hung in front of Harvey’s face. “You’re a goddess” he sighed as you moved up and down his shaft. Harvey’s hands gripped your ass while you rode him, nails digging into the soft flesh. You picked up the pace after becoming accustomed to his size and rolled your hips to hit the mark inside of you.

“Fuck you feel so good, Harv. I love you so much” you panted as you bounced. Your second orgasm was approaching and judging by the look on your husband’s face he was close too. “I’m so close, baby.” You gripped the headboard as Harvey started thrusting into you from below. His cock hit exactly the right spot, your pleasure overwhelming you. Harvey moaned deeply, holding your hips tightly as he thrusted up one last time. His cock twitched inside of you and you felt the sudden warmth of his orgasm coating your insides, your own pleasure bubble finally bursting in sync.

You dismounted gently and laid your head on his chest. “That was amazing” he murmured into your ear, wrapping his arms around you and pulling the sheets up. “I’m so lucky I married you.” You sighed contentedly and nuzzled closer. You basked in the afterglow of each other, looking forward to the next day of forever together.

[aikaterini-drag]

The Sweetest Surprise PART 2

Pairing: Rafe Cameron x Fem!Reader

Summary: Rafe returns from work and you have a sweet surprise for him.

Warnings: minors don’t interact, 18+, lots of fluff and sweet moments, pregnancy announcement, shameless smut. Enjoy!!

This is belongs to the ‘Loving You Series’. Find it here.

At first you thought the tiredness and anxiety were due to the wedding preparations and your busy schedule at the museum. With only five months until your wedding to Rafe, the things you had to do daily were overwhelming. The only thing that made you calm down was Rafe.

But for the past ten days, you’d felt more unwell than usual. Sometimes you were lightheaded, and some scents seemed to turn your stomach. Just that morning, the nausea was so bad you had to leave work early. You went straight to the pharmacy, bought a dozen pregnancy tests and rushed home.

A while later, you were pacing back and forth, your heart pounding as you stared at the two lines on the pregnancy stick. Positive. The moment had finally arrived. You and Rafe had done it. You were pregnant! Joy and a little anxiety bubbled within you as you thought about how to tell him. He wanted a baby just as much as you, and you wanted the reveal to be perfect.

After a lot of pondering, you decided to surprise him that evening once he came back home from the company. Getting busy, you cooked his favorite meal, set the table and prepared for a cozy and intimate night in. By 8 pm, the table was ready, the delicious scent of homemade lasagna filling the air. You hid the neatly wrapped gift box into the a cabinet and fumbled with your hands, nervously waiting.

When you heard the door unlocking, you went to greet him, you whole being vibrating with excitement. Rafe closed the door, locked it, and opened his arms. You ran into his embrace, and he encased you protectively, lifting you off the ground for a few seconds. His natural scent teased your nose, dark and musky, it didn’t bother your sensitive stomach.

“Someone missed me more than usual,” he said before bending down to claim your lips.

“Hmm, missed you,” you muttered in between wet kisses.

“Something smells amazing.”

“I made your favorite,” you replied as casually as possible. “Why don’t you wash up and join me? Dinner’s almost ready.”

You shifted away to check on the food but he grabbed your waist, pulling you back against his chest. You wore a flowery mini dress that hugged your breasts and showed off your collarbones. Rafe seemed highly affected by it. His hands traced your hips, waist and the outline of your breasts before stopping at your shoulders.

“You wore my favorite dress,” he said, his voice low and sultry. “You know what that does to me.”

“You will be a good boy and wait.”

“Babe.” His breath was warm against your neck as he whispered, “It’s hard enough for me to keep my hands off you, especially when you wear this dress.”

You flushed but managed to slip out of his hold, smiling playfully. “Dinner first. Pussy later.”

He chuckled, a deep, throaty sound that sent a thrill through you. “You drive me crazy, you know that?”

“And don’t you love it,” you teased as you strolled back to the kitchen. Rafe followed after you, smacking your bum lightly before making his way to the bathroom.

Fifteen minutes later, he was fresh out of the shower with his short hair still damp. He had changed into black trousers and a loose white shirt that he left partially unbuttoned, giving a glimpse of his sculpted chest. He sauntered over to you and hugged you from behind as you served the meal. You smiled and breathed in his clean masculine scent.

“Missed you, love.” He kissed the side of your neck. “I’m starving.”

“Everything’s ready.”

You sat down and enjoyed your dinner. Rafe talked about his day at work, then just watched you with a hungry look in his eyes. You ate a little, but with his probing, you finished your plate. He nursed a glass of wine—you had juice and that made him flinch for a moment.

“Something’s different today. What is it?” His eyes settled on you, warm and appraising.

You stiffened a little. He always read you like an open book. You smiled and decided it was the right time so you took out the gift box, setting it in front of him on the table.

“This is for you, baby. Open it,” you said, your heart racing.

Rafe stared at your with widened eyes. He muttered a husky “Don’t tell me it’s what I think it is” while he untied the ribbon and lifted the lid. He exhaled in gratitude as he pulled out the pregnancy stick. He looked up at you, his eyes so full of love and adoration.

“Yes, yes yes!!” he shouted, jumping up from his chair so quickly that it fell over. He reached you in an instant, lifting you into his arms and squeezing you tightly.

You clutched him, tears of happiness in your eyes. “Yes, we’re going to have a baby.”

“Oh my God, baby, we’re having a baby!” He set you on your feet and kissed you deeply, tears of joy rolling down his eyes. You wiped them, but realized you were also crying, even harder than he.

“Hey, hey, don’t cry, beautiful,” he said gently as he kissed your tears away. “Don’t cry, please I can’t take it.”

“Happy tears.” You sniffled, smiling through your tears. He kissed you softly, peppering touches until you’d stopped crying.

“We’re in this together, okay? You and me.” He framed your flushed face and kissed the top of your red nose. “No more crying, alright? I love you so much.”

“I love you too,” you whispered, your heart swelling with joy.

Kneeling, he lifted the hem of your dress and kissed your still-flat stomach tenderly. “My precious baby is carrying my baby.”

“I am,” you laughed, shivering at the feel of him against your skin.

He pressed his cheek to your soft belly. “Hey there, little one. I’m your daddy,” he murmured. “I can’t wait to meet you. Stay safe and help me take care of your mommy, hm?”

You ran your fingers through his hair, ready to cry again at the tenderness of the moment.

“Rafe, I’m so happy,” you said, your voice trembling with emotion.

He stood up and pulled you close, his eyes bright with mischief. “Not as much as I. I finally made it happen,” he said, a triumphant grin on his face. “I knocked you up.”

You laughed. “I never doubted you would. You’ve been so determined.”

He slid the straps of your dress off your shoulders and kissed your collarbones. “I can’t wait until you’re showing. I want everyone to see that bump and know you’re carrying my seed.”

“You’re impossibly obsessed.”

He nodded, unabashed. “I am. I’m a slut for you. And for your pussy, your breasts, and your pert little ass. Actually, I fucking worship all of you.”

His words awakened a warm flush through you. “I’ll have you know I’m just as crazy about you.”

He kissed the tops of your breasts, his hands roaming your body. “Well, I can say for sure I’m even crazier.”

“And excited,” you added, sliding your hand down the front of his pants. He was fully erect in your palm, his balls swollen.

“You always make me excited. Even when you’re not with me, just thinking about fucking you gets me hard. And now that you’re pregnant, I’m gonna be in a constant state of hardness for you.”

“Poor baby.” You gave his crotch a gentle squeeze, making him groan. “I can take care of it.”

Growling his approval, he unbuckled his belt and stripped down his trousers and boxers until they pooled at his ankles. You were planning to take him in your mouth, but he sat down and pulled you to straddle him, your legs on either side of his thighs.

“Not fair,“ you pouted, reaching down to pump his cock slowly, feeling the veiny skin against your palms. “I want to suck you.”

“I know, babe…hmmm,” he groaned as you rubbed his ballsack. “Later, perhaps. Now all I can think of is burying myself deep into your warm little cunt.”

You shook your head defiantly, deciding to keep jacking him and running your thumb over the trickle of pre-cum at the head.

“Naughty baby,” he grumbled as he let you have your way— for now —while he worked to remove your clothes. He slipped off your dress and growled at the sight of your tits. Plump and high, they looked delicious enough to eat and he did just that, putting his warm mouth around each rosy nipple. He cupped the underside of your smooth mounds and jutted them up toward his lips.

Choked moans left you as you wiggled shamelessly on his lap, begging him to keep going. Rafe whisked one nipple with his tongue, smiled, then moved to the other. Your hands pumped his shaft weakly, the stimulation was too much, and quickly got out of hand when you heard the sound of your underwear ripping.

“Rafe!” you meant to sound angry but a long moan escaped you when he cupped your pussy.

“What?” he asked sweetly.

“Nnnngh…” you could only whimper as his fingers rubbed your slit, slicking up his fingers in your abundant wetness.

“Such a good girl for me, dripping for me,” he praised, gently probing with two thick fingers. The digits entered you with great care, sliding deep and curving inside you.

“Yesssss,” you clutched his shoulders, realized he still wore his shirt so you impatiently tugged it off. Satisfied, you raked your fingers over his strong chest and broad shoulders.

Rafe fucked you with his fingers while his mouth feasted on your nipples, his wet tongue suckling and circling each tip. Your chest was rosy and marked with his touches and you arched frantically against him, your stomach quivering. Your release hit you so hard that you wanted to scream, but you bit your lips to keep the noise down.

Noticing, Rafe slapped your clit lightly. “Don’t you dare hide your moans from me. I want to hear you.”

You winced, trembling with aftershocks as he kept his fingers inside you and added the gentle pressure of his thumb against your clit. He went back down on your tits, licking the curve and around the flushed areolas.

“Please, fill me up,” you whined, panting heavily. “Inside, deep, come on!”

Smiling against your skin, he grabbed your hips and stood up with you in his arms. You locked your hands at his nape as he pushed you against the wall. You felt one hand cradling your back, protecting you from the hard surface, the other cupping your ass.

“Whatever my goddess wants, my goddess gets.”

You felt the blunt tip at the entrance of your pussy, slowly pressing into you, your walls stretching around the incredible thickness. Pleasurable chills travelled through your body and you wrapped your legs around him, moaning as you felt every inch of him invade you. Rafe lowered you down his cock, your pussy accepting him inside to the hilt.

He groaned and held himself still. “Fuck, your pussy is heaven.”

“More,” you clutched him for dear life needing him close. It was too much yet not enough.

“Easy.” His thick cock pulsed inside you. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

“It’s okay, Rafe. I promise.”

“We have to be careful from now on,” he said casually as if he wasn’t buried balls-deep inside you. “First thing tomorrow, we’re going to the doctor. I want to make sure you and the baby have the best care.”

“Fine, daddy, now fuck me, please?” Your voice a was playful whisper.

His eyes darkened. “Want my dick so bad, baby?”

“Hmm… want this fucking big cock that knocked me up.”

And that did the trick. He fucked you with a passion that turned you into a sobbing, blubbering mess. His cock was drenched in your juices, both of you panting for air. Thrusting in and out of you steadily, you rocked with force and pulled his head for purchase. Your nipples rubbed against his chest, tits squeezed delightfully until he decided he wanted a view, so he leaned back and watched as your tits heaved with each thrust.

“Gonna…ngh... gonna—"

“Let go baby, I've got you," he drawled. “Cum, baby. Cum all over my dick.”

At his command, your pussy clenched, pleasure making you frantic. You wrapped yourself around him, your teeth grazing his collarbone as you rode your high. He kept fucking you through it and with a bellow, pushed as deep as he could go and let go, spurting thick white streaks inside you. You milked him dry, your breath rugged against his neck.

Several long minutes later, you felt him push from the wall and make his way to the bedroom.

“Rafe..." you muttered as he walked with his raging cock pulsing inside you. You clung to him, letting out a series of soft whimpers.

Rubbing your back comfortingly, he sat at the edge of the bed. "All good?" he asked, his eyes locked on yours.

"Yes, my love," you smiled, running your hand through his hair. “Want you to fuck me again.”

He chuckled darkly. “Such a filthy word from such a lovely mouth.”

“Want to suck you, too.” You smiled when his thumb trailed your lips and, eagerly, you took it in your mouth.

“Damn… I’m yours, baby. I’ll do anything you want.”

“I’m at my happiest,” you grinned, kissing him softly on the lips.

“Not as happy as you’ve made me, baby. Just when I thought it couldn’t get better, you rock my world.”

“And your cock.”

“And that.” He gave a shallow push to remind you that he was still deep inside you. “I’ll take care of you.”

You grinned. “Not if I take care of you first.”

Next part will be something fluffy that gives depth to their relationship. Stay tuned.

[the-fandom-is-now-my-life]

Can you do a future story for Jin or Luca?

Melodies from the future

Jin slips to the future for the length of a nap

Wc: 1,2k

Notes: I really like this even if it's short (let's say it's short because it's supposed to just be a nap m'kay?)

The soft melody of a piano slips in the young master's ears, changing his dreams to distorted memories of his childhood. His first piano lesson was not later than a little after his fourth birthday, when a tall man approached him after tutoring so start teaching the basics of reading music and his very first song. 

The first few lessons he was such a brat, sneaking away to play with his toys until he saw his mother in the music room playing her violin alone, she usually would lull him to sleep after nightmares with a song. Back then he didn't notice it but her little sad comment about wanting someone to duet with her was so obviously a way to get him to sit through his lessons, it's almost embarrassing to recognize it did work and he learned many songs for his mom's sake. 

The slight sliver of conscience the sound opened was just enough to remember that in Frostheim there are no pianos, and even if there were, his own room was soundproof so he wouldn't know if anyone was playing.

That realization plus the horrid noise of the off tempo and very obviously wrong key, strikes Jin out of his sleep, nerves crisp against the soft silk bed sheets.

The half mind that he managed to gather allowed him to recognize how different this room was to his own at Frostheim, an L shaped room with the bed facing a wardrobe on the sharp angle.

Walking out of the bed and to the wardrobe trying to find the exit he catches for a second the reflection of his face on the full length mirror adjacent to the wardrobe and sticky disgust lingers on the base of his tongue and back of his throat for a minute. His white hair dusted with a few stray gray hairs just behind his ears, and some wrinkles starting to carve themselves around his eyes and his forehead. It's not the sudden aging causing him to step away from the reflection but just how much he looked like his father, as a child and even now, he always got told that he looked just like his dad but he never managed to see it beyond sharing hair and eye color until now, a splitting image. 

Deciding to not mull over that, there is a lot of time before this mess happens, something inside him insists. He watches some photos hung around the wall and wrapping around the corner, most are of white haired children uncannily similar to himself during different milestones, like walking or school graduations or a few ones where they were dressed formally enough for a gala. 

Following the flow of the photos around the wall, he finds himself mesmerized briefly for no more than one second with each and every photo, but the biggest picture and possibly centerpiece of the homemade gallery was one with with him and the honor student posing inside an old catedral, both wearing white wedding attire, wisteria and white roses adorning the venue. Was it Clementia? It's unlikely, it looked too clean and tidy, unlike how it looks after the incident.

In as much of a trance he found himself beholding the picture, a golden glimmer captured his attention. It's a gold wedding band, almost on instinct he puts it in his left ring finger and maybe it was something embedded inside his being after years of cohabitation… where did that even come from? The closest thing to cohabitation is how much time Thoma spends around him.

As he turns around to leave he notes there are two doors, one leading to a balcony and the other he supposes leads to the rest of the house. 

Walking through the marble tiles, his feet fall at the same time that the inexperienced rhythm of twinkle twinkle little star is played. Following the sound he finds himself in the family music room where he learned to play. Was he in his family home? The floor lay out did seem somewhat similar but the paint and furniture changed quite a bit. He guesses it's natural, if he himself aged for things to not remain the same, maybe should be even offsetting if they did.

A white haired child is seated in front of the big tail piano playing nervously for the audience that was his parent and baby brother. His nerves were so noticeable that it seeped into the music, an apprentice’s first but green attempts.

“Do it again, but this time with confidence” his voice echoes into the room, scaring the child into playing the wrong key.

“Looks like dad finally woke up, huh?” A teasing voice speaks from the couch and as their head turns around to face him Jin sees your face once again, a few years older than the photo in the bedroom and a lot older than your academy self he is used to, but still you after all “his grampa got him a piano teacher and wanted to show me what he learned. Maybe you could refresh on your own skills”

“Really, dad plays?” The child jumps in interest and tugs him by the hand towards the piano. Was it honest interest or did he simply not want to play anymore? “Play something for me!”

“What about what you chose for our first dance?”

“Salut d'amour” his words slip from between his lips before even thinking about a wedding. He did seem to be correct as you smiled complacently while hugging the year old in your lap.

Did he truly choose that? Even thinking about that song playing during his wedding and being the one who chose it made him feel like he was a whipped sappy loser like that blond second year yet at the expectant look of ‘his son’ and yours he obliges, it's a short piece after all, he reasons.

It isn't far after he starts playing that the five year old sits down next to him and perches himself on his arm, eyeing how he moves his hands majestically, even after all those years without training. 

“don’t pull on your dad's arm” without a noise you stand behind him while holding the kid he saw in one of the family photos. 

Breathing in, his eyes close and the unusual burn in his lungs itches from the inside but like sand slipping from his hand with the wind, the next time he opens his eyes he is seated on the couch looming over the coffee table. Almost at the same time Thoma enters with a tray and teapot.

“Abusing bhavishy incense again? I don't think you need another excuse to sleep more” and almost as if Thoma’s words were what he needed to puzzle it together and not the very clearly lit powdered incense holder letting off a pinkish mist “you should open a window, you are going choke on fumes”

He got his hands on a new batch of an artisan's mix and wanted to try it out, he remembers his simple motive of being bored and it being more interesting than annoying Thoma with tasking him to find some musician that never existed. 

His thoughts get stringed together slowly and carefully, still a bit out of it thanks to the fumes but it gets easier to think as Thoma opens the balcony door wide open, letting in Frostheim notoriously cold breeze to clean out the strawberry scent.

“I never took the captain for someone to be interested in love affairs, but at last it seems I have a lot to learn about you”

“Just shut it, you are making my head hurt”

“Are you flustered?”

[lostloveletters]

Something Borrowed (Michael Corleone x Reader)

Summary: Michael Corleone is the last person you expect to see at your best friend Connie’s wedding, and the last thing you expect to happen upon seeing him again after so many years is spending the night together. Maybe, it'll turn into something more.

Note: Female reader, but no other descriptors are used. No hate to Kay, she’s my girl, but wedding scene Michael drives me crazy🤭 She’s off living her best life elsewhere in this. Also, it was a lot of fun writing pre-everything Michael. Do not interact if you’re under 18, terf or radfem, or post thinspo/ED content.

Word count: 2.8k

Warnings: Sexually explicit content involving unprotected sex. Light play fighting.

Champagne and giggles overflowed at Connie Corleone’s wedding to Carlo Rizzi. Plenty of red wine was passed around in pitchers for the old guard, of course. For you and the other women conscious of not staining the rainbow of cocktail dresses and flowing gowns that dotted the backyard, you opted for lighter fare in tall flutes that sparkled in the early autumn sun. 

Perhaps you were a bit too enthusiastic about the drink offerings, having already exchanged three empty champagne glasses for ones filled to the brim with glittering gold when the bride engulfed you in a hug. With a delighted laugh, you returned the gesture, kissing her cheek.

“I wanted to say thank you one more time for coming!” Connie exclaimed, her cheeks flushed pink from the excitement of the day. “God, it breaks my heart we couldn’t have gotten you a bridesmaid dress in time, but you look gorgeous.”

“Me? Connie, you look like a princess.”

“I feel like one,” she giggled.

“When you see your gift from me—I’m sorry it’s not more, I haven’t—”

“Stop it!” she scolded. “You came all the way from Europe just to be at my wedding. I couldn’t ask for a better friend.”

You didn’t bother correcting her. Her version of events sounded much nicer than you just got lucky with when the Red Cross put you on a boat home. “Anything for you.”

“I won’t keep you. This is probably the first time you’re eating real food in years. Mama, Sandra, and Theresa made most of it.”

Connie was right. You tried to savor your plate, packed with pasta drowned in homemade sauce, antipasto and crusty bread, and sandwiches that towered with fresh cold cuts. The Corleones knew a thing or two about good food, and had the means to pull the strings for the unfathomable ration books such a feast required.

A familiar yet unexpected voice startled you when your fork pierced a piece of mozzarella. “Is this seat taken?”

“Michael,” you practically gasped, taken aback by his even attending the wedding in the first place, but also how good he looked in his uniform. Cap tucked under his arm, medals and decorations on his chest, the photos you’d seen in the magazine didn’t do him justice. Finding yourself again, you gestured to the empty seat across from you. “Go ahead.”

“I can’t remember the last time I saw you, but you look great,” he said, his gaze fixed on you as he set his plate and glass down. He took you in, the girl he’d grown up seeing around the house and at school, now, without a doubt, a woman.

“You too, Captain,” you said, nodding toward the double bars on his uniform.

He snickered at your little joke, making you feel a bit more at ease in his presence. “I’m surprised you aren’t in the wedding party.”

“Honestly, I wasn’t even sure I was going to make it until a few days ago. I only just got back to New York on Thursday,” you said.

“You volunteered with the Red Cross, didn’t you?”

You nodded. “I was in England, and then France after the liberation.”

“Clubmobile, right?”

“Did Connie tell you?”

He shook his head, smiling the slightest bit. “All the pretty girls worked the Clubmobile.”

A mortifyingly girlish giggle escaped your lips. You quickly brought your glass to your mouth, though the champagne in it was likely the culprit of your embarrassing reaction to Michael’s compliment. Averting your eyes to the dancing guests, you tried to ignore the warmth that spread across your face.

You allowed yourself to look at him again a few moments later, relieved to find he was still sitting in front of you, amused, maybe even endeared, by you.

“You’re such a jerk, Michael,” you mumbled, only because he was your friend’s older brother, and when you were younger and starry-eyed and figuring out what it meant when your heart wouldn’t quite beat right around a boy, it was him who those tender emotions were kindled in secret toward—until you had your first real boyfriend.

He grinned at your remark, and the two of you ate and caught up in between his various family members stopping by the table to say hello. You weren’t sure what to make of his seeing you before any of them—flattered, a bit confused as well, but he laughed at your jokes and moved his seat closer to yours, so you must have been doing something right when he finally asked, “Do you want to dance?”

“I’d love to,” you said.

The chaos from Johnny Fontaine’s unexpected arrival and impromptu performance subsided when Michael led you out to dance. He held you close, the way soldiers had at the dances the Red Cross put on for servicemen, all to boost morale, or, as the war went on, to offer a break from reality. Among the many rules meant to be followed—and typically broken in one way or another in the haze of war—was to keep some emotional distance from the enlisted men, for your sake and their own, but with bodies so close together, tender touches and soft whispers over songs of twilight and moonbeams, it was tough not to be caught up in romance’s alluring snare.

Even then, with the war behind both of you, something about being in Michael’s arms made you truly understand why some girls risked their assignments for a man. There was something in how he looked at you, different from your childhood together, even from a few minutes prior. You felt breathless despite the slow song you swayed along to.

“Did you like Paris?” he asked quietly, throwing you for a loop.

You furrowed your eyebrows. “Paris?”

“You were in France, weren’t you?”

“Not Paris.”

“Where in France were you slinging doughnuts, then?”

“Little villages a few miles out from the front, mostly. More cows than people, but nice enough once the fighting stopped, and it was finally quiet—as quiet as it could get, anyway,” you said. “When Connie wrote you’d been wounded, I couldn’t help but think the worst. Plenty of guys out there—well, that article sure put me at ease. All the girls were jealous when I said I knew you.” You smiled. “I’m glad you’re alright, Michael.”

He glanced at your lips, and for an aching moment you were sure he was going to kiss you, but instead he gave you a smile, one that was real and made your heart flutter nevertheless, but left you disappointed.

“Where are you staying since you’ve been back?” he asked.

He seemed familiar with the hotel you were staying in when you mentioned it, offering to drive you back after the reception ended, and Connie and Carlo left for their honeymoon. 

“It’s only until I can find a boarding hotel that has space,” you said. “I mean, it doesn’t have to be the Barbizon, but I’m not moving back in with my parents.”

“Here’s to that.”

The rest of the day and into the evening, Michael hung around you, unless he was pulled away by members of his family, each instance an annoyance to him. You knew they weren’t exactly supportive of his enlisting, but the situation couldn’t have been that bad, not since he was home, safe and sound at his sister’s wedding.

The Corleones, though endlessly kind to you, always been an odd family, and you learned through your friendship with Connie not to ask too many questions.

But Genco Abbandando was dying, and Vito insisted Michael go with the rest of the Corleone men to pay his respects to the elder. When you offered to take a cab back to your hotel, Michael promised the visit wouldn’t be long, suggesting you wait at the house with his mother until he returned to drive you into the city.

Your foolish desire to spend more time with him led to your waiting in the Corleones’ kitchen for a little over an hour, when you likely would’ve been showered and in bed in your hotel room by the time he arrived back for you, in one hell of a hurry to get you into his car and presumably get away from his family.

“Do you ever think about leaving New York?” he asked when the house was out of view.

You laughed. “Michael, I only just got back.”

“That’s not what I mean. The war—it wasn’t going to be forever, but it let you see what life could be like away from all of this, didn’t it?”

“Of course it did. I’m honestly not sure what I’m going to do with myself now,” you said. “How about you? Are you going back to school? Dartmouth, I mean.”

He nodded. “I start again the spring semester.” At a red light, he glanced over at you. “New England’s nice. Better than French cow country.”

“And do you suppose I could study in the department of pouring coffee and serving doughnuts?”

“You’re smart. I think you have a real future,” he said, the sincerity in his voice startling you. “All of that back there, that’s not for us. It never has been.”

You were silent for a few moments. “I guess you’re right.”

The city lights twinkling in the distance took the place of the stars they blocked out from the sky, growing larger as Michael crossed the bridge into Manhattan, the center of the universe. You’d never tell a soul how you cried just a few days prior upon seeing it again for the first time in years.

Besides his talk of the future, Michael kept the conversation light, and you could’ve sworn he was flirting with you. Working the Clubmobile, you learned quickly how to pick up on it, some men laying it on thick while others were irresistibly smooth. Michael could’ve easily just been teasing you, the way a friend’s older brother would, but when he pulled up to your hotel, either your ego or curiosity prompted you to invite him up for a drink.

You sobered up on the drive into the city, enough to remember you didn’t have any drinks in your room. The two of you would have to go to the hotel bar for that, but then you and Michael wouldn’t be alone, not how you wanted, anyway.

To your relief, he agreed.

With Michael in uniform, few questions would be asked by hotel staff as to why you suddenly had a man with you when you checked in on your own. It would have been easy to lie, claim he was your fiance who had only just gotten back Stateside. But you supposed you and Michael already looked the part, walking arm-in-arm through the lobby without an issue.

Your confidence soared on the elevator ride up to your modest room, which you let Michael into, knowing he wouldn’t judge the state of your accommodations.

“Mind if I make myself comfortable?” You didn’t wait for his answer, pulling your blouse from where it’d been tucked in your skirt. Slipping out of your heels, you sighed softly in relief.

“It’s your place,” he said, setting his coat over the chair in the corner and loosening his tie.

You grabbed his cap from where he set it down and placed it on your head, tilting the brim over your face a bit and posing in front of him with a hand on your hip. “How do I look?”

He sat down on the edge of the bed, giving you a once over, “I swear I saw you pinned up in some guy’s tent looking just like that.”

You laughed, taking the cap off and flinging it aside. “Oh, I don’t even know why I invited you up here!” Your laughter faded as something in your stomach turned sour, the situation feeling achingly too good to be true. Alone in a hotel room with Michael, the two of you entirely capable of making your own mistakes on the off chance he wanted you too. “Or why you even agreed to come up.”

“I didn’t come up here to drink.”

“No, you did it to be nice, because we’ve known each other for so long…” You sighed, sitting next to him. “I always figured you thought of me as your kid sister’s annoying little friend or something.”

He shook his head, saying your name softly in either protest or reassurance. His hand cupped your face as he turned it toward him, his thumb rubbing soft circles in your cheek. “Not for a long time. Especially not tonight.”

You kissed him, hands gripping his shoulders, closing your eyes as you melted in his embrace. Your skin feverish at his touch, you shuddered when his hand slipped up your untucked blouse until his fingertips reached your bra.

To say you hadn’t fantasized about Michael would have been an unconvincing lie to anyone who dared ask, but even in your wildest dreams, it was never quite like this, so bold and irreverent in the face of the tradition the two of you had just spent the day celebrating.

“I came up here because you’re beautiful,” he confessed against your lips, “because you’re the only familiar face I saw at my sister’s wedding that didn’t make me wish I were somewhere else.”

Silencing him with another kiss, your fingers raked through his soft black hair as your body pressed flush against his, unsure if you could withstand hearing more of his tender words without falling to pieces. You couldn’t, not so early in the night, but his desire grew difficult to ignore when he pulled you onto his lap. The pressure against your pussy made you moan, and with a hasty desperation, you shimmied out of your panties as he unbuckled his belt, freeing his hard cock within a few moments.

You slipped a hand between the two of you, pumping his length, feeling the way it twitched at your touch and gasping when Michael’s hips bucked. His teeth grazed your bottom lip, a whisper of an intent to devour you.

“I need you, sweetheart,” he groaned. “Need to feel you.”

Lifting your hips, you whimpered upon feeling his head brush your clit as you positioned yourself, slowly lowering as he filled you, cock throbbing against your walls that clenched around him. He assuaged the pain of taking all of him with a gentle kiss and soft praises, urging you to take your time, that you had all night together.

All night. The promise he would stay, at least until the morning, sent a teasing wave of pleasure through you. Gripping his shoulders, you tried to keep a steady pace as you rode him, wanted to show him that staying would be worth his while. He’d been right in the car, you wouldn’t be a virginal, wedding white bride. The both of you had seen and experienced too much to be considered innocent any longer, but it was something you shared, that no one else from that day would have understood.

Your thighs ached as you neared your climax, desperately chasing it despite the exhaustion that was creeping up on you. Crying out in frustration, you buried your face in the crook of Michael’s neck.

“I’m close,” you whined. “Michael, I—”

“I’ve got you,” he assured you, his hands making their home on your hips. 

Your eyes fluttered shut as you let him guide your body, his thrusts doing most of the work while you rocked against him, seeking the friction against your clit that would bring you to release. It caught in your throat, a broken groan from your lips to his ears as you came, clenching around him, pleasure rolling through you, rattling your body like thunder. You barely caught your breath when he came, shuddering against you, practically cradling you against him as he filled you.

With a whimper, you lifted yourself off of him and rolled back onto the bed. Placing your hand on your chest, you felt your rapidly beating heart beneath your fingertips, focusing on it as it slowed the following minute or so and ignoring the stickiness between your legs, the evidence you slept with your best friend’s older brother. 

Michael leaned over, brushing back the hair that stuck to your face. “What are your plans tomorrow?”

“Looking through the classifieds for a job,” you said honestly.

“Wanna put it off for a day?”

“With what money, Michael?”

“I’ll give you a line of credit.”

You grabbed one of the pillows from behind you, throwing it at him with a laugh. “Jerk!”

He grinned, pushing it aside to grab for one of your arms. You put up a weak fight, your breathless laughter giving away his almost certain win.

Having pinned you down beneath him, he pressed you for an answer. “So?” He kissed you. “What do you say, sweetheart?”

You rolled your eyes, smiling despite yourself. “I guess I can clear my schedule for a dashing war hero like you.”

“Dashing, I like the sound of that,” he murmured, bringing his lips to yours again, softly, with a tenderness that promised more for tomorrow, and even the day after, if you’d have him. 

You smiled. “Me too.”

[randomsufff]

HEHAHBFKI More South Park doodles I think I’m going insane.

Actually this is kind of the product of me being liking South Park way back in high school but was too embarrassed to draw them when I was bored in class and now it’s all kinda flooding back 💀

Read below if you want to know more about my New Kid and my thoughts behind some of the doodles cause this turned out longer then I though 💀

Anyways- introducing my New Kid. No name cause I literally have no idea. Whatever the cannon name is ig- though I’d think it’d be funny if she was referred to New Kid by literally everyone like in game. I like the idea that a lot of people have with their New Kids that they liked the makeover section with the girls during the Stick of Truth a little too much. I also like it cause… uh… I didn’t play Stick of Truth. (The combat system is not my cup of tea) So it’s not until the start of TFBW does she know shes really a girl.

To give context to the top right drawing- I couldn’t remember the dialogue Wendy says in the alleyway if you say you’re a trans girl- but I do know what she says if your a cis girl (I always knew you were a girl) cause I did a second play through as a cis girl. And I don’t know if there’s supposed to be a huge time jump between the end of Stick of Truth and TFBW but I think it would be funny if it was just the next day- so combine these two fact to get “Wendy always clocked New Kid as a girl but NK just found out yesterday 💀”

Anyways- she’s such a cutie, I love her and her cool superhero outfit I gave her. Outside of the game- I’d like to think of her basically exactly how she acts in game. Mostly non-verbal, with the occasional zingy one liner, and just kinda goes along with the crazy shit the happens in South Park un phased. Like if she was in a episode- the plot would happen and she would be on screen, but wouldn’t say anything, and anytime another character would address her, they’d respond however as if she spoke lmao. Aroace, just like me, so she’s just friends with everyone (except Cartman) and vibes with everyone.

The mini Style comic I though of cause 1) I wondered if Kyle had the same elf ears as the other elfs did in game (again, never played and it’s been a while since I saw gameplay so whoops if it’s confirmed or whatever) and 2) I thought it would be funny if Stan was caught lacking and tried to /rp his way out of it (I wanted to add an extra bit where Kyle would be like “Oh, are our characters gay for each other??? (ARE YOU /SRS OR /J STAN)” and Stan would have to just “yes, and” his way out.)

The last three images were kinda of a stream of consciousness put on paper and made neat lol. I really like showing that all the costumes the kids wear are homemade and stuff- either stuff taken from their parents or visibly taped together etc- cause I think it’s charming. Anyways- I though Kyle’s little robe could be like one of his parents bath robe- and it would be a little too long for him to run without eating shit so he’d have to hike it up like a skirt/dress. Which lead to me thinking that Cartman would say some shit about that and how Kyle, who has a literal Golf Club, would smack his ass up. Which then lead to me thinking about how since Kyle’s the Elf King and Stan’s basically his right hand how he might lift it up wedding dress style if needed (/RP GUYS, RIGHT?RIGHT???) and how Cartman would react, which lead to that one JoJo meme cause thats literally how they’d retaliate.

Always- I’ll probably have at least one more post about South Park I swear. There was a period of time before I stopped watching (I gotta pick it up again) where I would doodle a bit of whatever was happening in the episode, each episode. Crazy I know, but not only did it improve my drawing skills but it helped me remember what actually happened in episodes cause I have shit memory and definitely don’t remember some of the episodes I watched. So I might redraw some of those- see if anyone can tell what episode they’re from.

[nosesitter]

Help, I’m stuck!

| Father in law!Joel Miller

3.9k words

a/n: let me real quickly clarify no I don’t wanna fuck my FIL I just wanna fuck Joel Miller, this came to me in a completely different way but I added another idea in and made this! I hope y’all love it cause as I post I’ll be writing an add on cause FIL Joel was something I didn’t know I needed. It’s niche but someone has to write it, also PLS let me know if you want anything specific I love writing blurbs for people 🫶🏻 not even Joel miller I love hot characters, masked men, mean men, thot men, BIG BURLY HAIRY MEN!! Joel will talk more next part I just could only get him in at the end

⚠️: Father in law!Joel Miller, reader has an onlyfans, no Sarah but Joel does have a grown son, age gap not specified for reader but Joel is 55, no outbreak, it’s definitely dub/con, mentions of alcohol and drugs(don’t do any without me), recorded sex, small anal and food play?(it’s just a line you’d probably glaze right over it), f masterbation, unprotected pinv, toys, creampie, use of sweet pet names 🫶🏻and then the word slut is tossed around a couple times, reader can fit in a dryer lmfaooo never thought I’d type that

“The whole ‘stuck inside the dryer’ that could be fun.”

Two years ago you started an only fans. Your husband loved the idea of it. Hyping you up, filming the content, giving you ideas. He loved coming home seeing you dressed up, camera ready to record the homemade videos, it made him insane, causing him to go hard and give it his all only to throw in the towel after your wet cunt milks him of his release 30 minutes after hitting record. It became a full time job for you. Once you started it was hard to stop, pulling one orgasm out of you opened a Pandora’s box of animalistic lust, in the past you’ve been called a nymphomaniac. It was a blessing and a curse to be so horny all the time. After videos with him you would let him rest, kissing him goodnight then heading to the guest room to make solo content. Your trusty pink vibrator and thick realistic dildo helping you reach your climax 5 more times before you call it a night then head to bed to edit and post the content.

Your husbands words ring through your ears as he opens a bottle of wine for you. ‘Stuck in the dryer’ it was simple really, trying to think why you’ve never thought of it before. Tonight you’re having dinner with your father in law, Joel Miller. The grumpiest old man you’ve ever met. In the two years you’ve been married you’ve seen him smile a few times, once when the two of you met, another at your engagement, and then the night of your wedding as you were leaving for your honeymoon, very quickly he grabbed your hand and pulled you into a big hug ‘welcome to the family’ he whispered when he pulled back a drunken smirk was plastered on his face. there was something about the whole interaction that sent a shiver down you spine. After the honeymoon he was over, a lot. Finding things around the new house to fix. Always mumbling to himself;

‘them new contractors don’t know what they’re doin’

Walker entertained his dads need to be helpful and useful and so did you. So to return the favors you’ve banged out dinner and dessert for the man. As you’re setting the table there’s a loud knock at the door. Walker grabs the door and smiles big when he sees his father pulling him into a manly hug, both of them patting each others back three times. “Welcome in dad! Yeah, she’s in the kitchen just finished up.” You can hear Joel’s voice ask for you, maybe it was the sip of wine you just had but hearing his voice made your legs… buckle.

His boots stepping across the hardwood floor, crossing the threshold into the dining room. Standing next to the set table, one hand on your hip the other holding your generously full glass of wine. This has to be the biggest smile you’ve ever seen on Joel’s face.

“Hello there sweetness ,you do all this for me?” Pulling you into a side hug his big warm arm going around your waist. tightly. yours going around his shoulder as you rest your head on him for a brief second. You pull back but his one arm lingers around you a little while longer.

“Well we just wanted to say thank you for working so hard to help fix up the place.” He sets the 6 pack he brought with him on the table grabbing one of the bottles and twisting off the cap and wrapping his lips around taking a big gulp. There’s a sudden dryness in your throat and you swear you can hear yourself gulp when he pulls the bottle away and runs his tongue across his bottom lip to gather the excess.

“Let’s eat, honey I’m hungry!” Walker says and the three of y’all sit down and begin to eat. One thing about Joel is that he’s a vocal eater, meaning he will moan and groan if the food is good. He loves your cooking, says it’s just like his ma’s even brought his brother Tommy over for him to have some too. You’re surprised he’s not here either. So when Joel stabs his fork into the baked chicken you were making earlier it comes as music to your ears when he lets out a throaty growl. Legs crossing even tighter now causing you to reach for your glass of wine.

When everyone finishes with dinner you head back into the kitchen to grab Joel’s favorite, your mixed berry pie. Quick on your heels is your husband. As you’re closing the oven he comes behind you wrapping his arms around your waist pressing kisses into the side of your neck. “Mm I keep imagining you on your knees inside the dryer.” He mumbles into your ear his breathy whisper making you giggle from its ticklish feel. He presses himself into the back of your ass the dress you’re wearing is already thin enough so you can practically feel the outline of him on your skin. Grabbing the pie again you quickly get out the kitchen and back to Joel.

“Everything all good, sweetness?” Joel asks seeing your chest and face red from your husbands advances.

“Oh it’s nothing just talking with Walker about the dryer, we might get a new one.” Walking back out the kitchen Walker points his beer at his father exclaiming.

“No need to fix this one dad, we’re just gon’ replace it.” He tells him and Joel just holds his hands up as you’re cutting him a slice of pie. Your hand raises to stop him from scarfing it down so you can add the whip cream on it. You shake the bottle and you can feel the eyes of both miller men on you as you shake a little too hard causing some to spray out. The spurts of cream landing on your chest and falling onto your hand.

The whole scene comical for your husband but absolutely stunning for Joel. You just laugh while your fingers gather the white cream off your chest and into your mouth. He’s looking up at your while he sits in the chair completely dumbfounded by the scene in front of him. He prays he doesn’t need to get anytime soon because the both of y’all will see his complete hard on for his daughter in law.

“Well dig in Joel, it’s your favorite!”

———

It’s midnight by the time you finish cleaning up. the bottle of red wine sitting empty in the recycling bin and your husband on the couch barely awake. You wake him up and lead him into the bedroom, getting him under the covers and pressing a kiss against his lips before he whispers goodnight and a quick love you. You head into the bathroom and strip yourself of your dress, bra, and panties. Then head into the guest room grabbing your camera and putting it on the tripod set up in the corner. Laying back in the bed you start slow at first. Hand slowly trailing down your chest, ghosting lightly over the swell of your breasts. Squeezing your tits together, thumbs rubbing over your hardening nipples. Your head whips around as you begin to think about your husband and how you love to sit on his face, the feeling of his mustache on your clit. Trying to work yourself up more you think about something else, maybe about how he fucked you on the back patio, him laying on the chaise while your hands hold onto the arms rests. His hips rutting into you while you hover over him.

As your hands reaches your clit like a flash of lightning there’s a brief imagine of Joel. when he was cleaning the gutters, it had been raining for weeks and it was so humid that when he came over within 10 minutes he had stripped himself of his flannel and under shirt. Standing on a ladder one leg bent the other straight as his hands were above his head, the humidity causing beads of sweat to trail down his tan broad arms and causing his gray wife beater to blacken. The whole scene made you rush back inside, heading into the kitchen to try to forget by making him fresh squeezed lemonade.

Your hand pulls away with guilt but theres a gush that comes from you, putting your hand back between your legs your fingers gather the arousal that pours out of you. Sitting up you grab your dildo from the bedside table and begin again. Tapping the head of it against your clit the teasing causing you to moan. One hand holds the dildo while the other spreads yourself back for the camera your fingers opening up into a ‘v’ as you rub the side of the dildo along your exposed cunt. Gathering your wetness so you can slip in the thick fake cock. The dildo has more girth than your husband. His dick was long but it just didn’t give you the stretch you wanted. Pushing the tip in you let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding as you slowly push more in. A couple seconds pass and you can feel the toy bottom out inside you stretching you out perfectly while also lightly bushing against your cervix.

Slowly you begin to move it getting used to the stretch. To edge yourself on, your fingers go to your nipples tweaking and rubbing your arousal over them causing the air to hit the wetness sending a chill through you. Your hand goes for your neck lightly pressing yourself into the bed, then another flash of Joel with his thick hand wrapped around the whole bottle. it was tiny in his big ruggedly hands. There’s a loud moan that escapes your throat and your hand holding the dildo between your legs begins to thrust faster. Now you can’t help but think of him as the sound of your gushing cunt gets louder, it’s fucking pornographic. Another image of him and it’s when your husband surprised you with a hot tub and you found Joel in it when y’all came from your honeymoon. He was red with embarrassment even though he asked his son if he could use it. You remember him getting out, water dripping down his salt and pepper covered chest the heavy drops falling off his body and his swim trunks getting stuck to his big thighs, the outline of his cock was far bigger than your husbands.

A very loud moan comes from your mouth one last time and you’re looking between your legs at the arousal squirting out of you. Your head tosses back into the pillows as your hips go crazy bucking up and into the bed. Pulling the dildo out of you and winching at the emptiness you now feel. Your shame is coating the bed and running down your arm. you swing your legs that feel like noodles over the bed and head into the bathroom to wash off the thoughts of your very hot father in law.

———

There’s a bubbling nervousness in the pit of your stomach as you set up the scene. Camera set up on the tripod, the laundry room cleaned up to look like it’s never been used, and the pillow you set inside the dryer for you to bend over on. You decided to dress up for the part wearing a tight see through tank top, shorts that a too small your ass is hanging out no doubt but the real kicker is that you’re not wearing any underwear so when your bent inside the dryer they ride up causing your whole vagina to be exposed to camera view. Knee high socks and a pair of converse. it’s about 10 minutes to 12 so you decide to loosen up by smoking a little before your husband comes home for lunch.

Heading home baby see you soon!

Walker doesn’t work too far away so you finish up the joint you rolled and head back inside to your place in the dryer. You can hear his truck pull up, the engine dies and the driver door closes, your phones dings a couple more time but you don’t check it. Quickly you press record and get on your knees and head first into the dryer.

The front door opens and you begin.

“Help, I’m stuck!” You shout out before he could get out a hello causing his rushing footsteps to come past the dining room and into the laundry room. You can feel his presence behind you but what you didn’t expect is the catcall whistle that came with it.

“I got stuck in the dryer, please help me!” You plead with him wiggling your ass around, your hungry cunt wrapping itself around the crotch of your tight shorts. His hand comes down and slaps your ass hard you’re thrown off by the force he gives you but he must really like this idea since he suggested it. A deep growl comes from his throat and you can hear him getting on his knees right behind you.

“Just get me out please!” Pretending to plead with him. Walker usually talks but he’s quiet today you think nothing of it. He presses himself against you feeling the cold buckle on his belt on the back of your thighs. The roughness of his jeans as he grinds himself into you. You move forward slightly but his hands grab your hips holding you in place as he continues to grind into you.

One of your hands try to go for his belt behind you but he’s quick to slap it away. He leans back on his knees and pushes you more into the dryer ass hiked up higher. He begins to pull your shorts down to your knees and slowly trails his fingers back up your exposed legs back to your ache between your legs. “If you’re going to eat me out move the camera closer.” Breaking character for a moment you tell him and then you hear shuffling and then the sound of your tripod being picked up and set closer to the dryer.

His left hand spreading your cheeks apart the other has his finger ghosting lightly over your entrance. Suddenly there’s a harsh feeling of Walker spitting right where his finger begs to be. His middle finger pushes inside and begins twirling around inside of you. The sound of wetness and his finger pushing deep into you makes you moan out loud the echo of it escaping the dryer. Still having your cheeks spread he adds another finger this time, his ring finger. The force his hand is giving you gets faster and faster then he starts to make a come here motion with his fingers. The stretch of his two fingers alone have you white knuckling the pillow. Then his lips press a light but wet kiss to the other hole that’s getting no attention. The feeling of his mustache right on you pubic bone makes you giggle a little then his lips lower and you can feel the prickly sides of his cheeks against you. He forgot to shave this morning. You like when Walker lets his little facial hair grow out. His beard is patchy just like his fathers but you love the look. His fingers curve inside of you again and suddenly you’re about to cum.

“Fuck baby, I’m so close!” Panting out. The force from his hand gets faster and harder causing your body to shake as he begins to pound his hand into you. One of your hands goes behind you to grab his wrist. His other hand grabs your arm and holds you tightly there as your body begins to convulse violently. With your hand back behind you, you can feel your orgasm approach, well you can definitely feel it. You start squirting again the feeling of your orgasm shooting at walkers clothes. He’ll have to change before he can leave. Your arm still being held in place while his other hand begins to grab at his belt buckle. The sound of the zipper going down, then his tip slides right between your folds. Back arches from the contact you want more.

“Please fuck me.” You beg, ass wiggling around trying to find his dick so it can just slip right in but he stops you with his big hand giving each of your cheeks a few slaps. Your free hand goes behind you to stop the spanking but he’s quick to grab it and hold it with your other hand. You can feel his bare dick twitch behind you, just dying to be inside of you like a compass pointing right into your cunt. Before he pushes himself inside of you his fingers grab at the wedding ring right on your finger sliding it off and hearing the metal hit the top of the dryer. Confused but you decide to not ruin the moment with a simple question.

His fingers grab at his base to straighten his cock out and almost immediately upon penetration you know this isn’t Walker. Your head turns slightly to look behind you and you can see the recognizable green flannel that belongs to your father in law, lower part of it soaked with your arousal. His big broad hand holding both your arms back, veins poking out of his flushed red neck. His bottom lip sits between his teeth, his eyes catching you staring right at him.

“Poor little housewife, begging for her father in laws cock.” As much as you want to push him away, scream, fight, and cry for your husband your eyes just roll right back as he bottoms out inside of you. He’s the perfect size, the perfect girth, he’s perfect right inside of you and he knows it too. His free hand goes for the tripod taking the camera right off and moving it closer to his dick that’s moving slowly all the way out then slowly all the way back in.

Your mind isn’t thinking about where your husband is or how he might be standing at the door watching the whole scene happen before him instead you’re thinking about every vein you can feel on his cock, how stuffed you feel, how his balls slap right up against you, the mound of black and white pubic hair he has and how ticklish it feels grinding against you. The whole situation is fucked, how can you even go back to your husbands skinny dick? How can you ever look in your father in law in the eye after this? There’s a hard slap at your ass followed by Joel’s hand grabbing the skin at your hips.

“Such a good little slut.”

The coil in your lower stomach feels hot to the touch, your body smushed into the dryer the metal indenting into your skin. Your knees get closer together causing your pussy’s grip on Joel to get tighter around him. His hand lets go of both of yours as his thrusts get sloppier, he’s going to cum inside of you.

“Uh uh baby, you’re gon’ take this and you’re gon’ love it.” Both your hands try to push yourself out the dryer but joel just raises one of his legs to kneel beside you blocking your body from moving anymore from him. As much as you don’t want this your hand can’t help but wonder to your clit. Joel’s notices this and puts his hand over yours, your two small fingers and his two big ones rubbing all over your clit. The pressure is so much that you squirt again, your climax is grotesquely satisfying, tears begin to flow out your eyes as Joel moans very loudly, he sounds like he hasn’t had an orgasm in years and you just let the beast out the cage.

Following your release Joel gives you one last thrust practically shoving his cock inside your cervix, spraying hot cum all inside of you it feels like you’re full, so full of Joel’s cum. Body shaking around him milking him of everything he can give you. His thrusts get slower but you’re pressing back into him hard just chasing the high of being stretched full. His hand that’s still on yours slaps your clit and you’re coming again in an instant. He laughs at your desperate body as he looks down at his cock to see the white ring on cream sitting around base of him. Slowly he pulls out, his body goes limp and he lays against the washer right beside you.

Finally out the dryer you catch your breath and look at the red light blinking on your camera. You stop it the video and it saves it. A big part of you wants to delete this and curse at Joel for taking advantage of you like that, a small sluttier piece of you wants to watch it again while you suck joel clean. You just set the camera to the side, not deleting it yet. You and Joel just look each other in the eye while he begins to put his dirty dick back in his pants. he zips up and then gets up groaning like the old man he is in the process.

“You better get cleaned up, don’t want my boy to see his slut wife with his dads cum in her.” You sit on the floor at his feet just watching him grab his bag of tools and leave. Your phone dings and you wonder if it’s Walker telling you to move out cause he saw the whole scene.

Got fucking pulled over I was too excited to head home and fuck you! :(((

Just gonna head back to work :( hungry and horny see you tonight baby

While you look at those texts, one pops up sent 30 minutes ago from Joel

Hey darling I’m gonna head over and check out that dryer for ya, see you soon!

———🏠💍👩🏻‍❤️‍💋‍👨🏻

Like, comment, reblog, validate me 🫶🏻

0802

[honeybadger16]

Boyfriend! Lando Norris Headcanons

Pairing: Lando Norris x reader 

Warnings: sexual themes, swearing 

word count: .5k

a/n: Lando as a boyfriend sounds like a lot of fun, hope you enjoy!

Lando would such a fun boyfriend

golden retriever energy

he planned the first date for you two 

he first booked a cooking class 

he burnt the meat, added too much salt to the potatoes, and accidentally cut his finger when chopping the parsley

but you had the best time together

after that he took you to the closest park for a picnic and packed your favorite fruit and drinks

having a picnic with Lando would be fun until he starts to fight with birds over uncovered food

your camera roll is full of photos from that incident 

once it was time to say goodbye he kissed your cheek and gave you a dimple-filled smile 

from then on, Lando’s favorite thing to do was take you out 

aquarium dates, go-karting dates, apple picking dates, etc.

carnival dates consist of cotton candy, fries, and Lando paying an unbelievable amount for the biggest stuff animal prize 

at home, he loves to have you close to him when he’s streaming 

fans always love spotting you in the background reading, on your phone, or taking a nap 

eating ice cream together at 2 a.m. will be a weekly occurrence 

He would want to teach you how to play golf with him

and loves seeing you in bright-colored golf dresses 

Lando would be the best kisser too 

he would cup your face with one hand and the other around your waist pulling you closer 

he has a goal of having sex in every room in the house 

that goal is very much accomplished.

a lot of people find missionary positions boring, but with Lando it’s extremely intimate and passionate

Lando’s favorite color is bright yellow, so any gifts that include that color he loves!

Appreciates homemade gifts the most  

when things don’t go well for Lando on race days, you are his comfort person

this includes showering with him letting him get out his feelings 

if you have younger siblings Lando gets along with them so well 

he loves kids and is a natural with them 

It is very important for Lando to have his family like you 

but no worries you fit naturally with his parents and siblings 

the first holiday break you spent with them, they made you feel at home and tried cooking the dishes you liked 

seeing you bond with his family made him swell with happiness 

that week he asked him mom for the family heirloom engagement ring 

planning the perfect engagement would make Lando feel nervous 

he planned the most amazing proposal filled with flowers and champagne 

One night when the two of you were cuddling in bed Lando looks towards you lovingly

he pulls out the ring and asks you without thinking 

he thought he ruined the surprise, but you couldn’t be happier 

of course, you said yes and are ecstatic! 

the two of you would have so much fun planning the wedding and the rest of your lives together 

[corrodedcoughin]

Eddie forgets his mini figs for hellfire. He’s forgotten them before and everybody makes do with whatever they can find in the club room. He thinks it’ll be the same this time accompanied by the usual complaints but ultimate acceptance so they can get on with the game.

What he doesn’t count on is the fact that Erica Sinclair is now a member of the party. And Erica Sinclair is Always Prepared. That night the hellfire club battle a heinous hell spawn (my little pony Peachblossom) as a rag tag group of adventurers (a sylvanian families selection of a family of bears and a rabbit couple dressed in wedding outfits)

It’s the most bloody session yet and the mini figures are quickly replaced by custom woodland animals in homemade tiny clothes

[luveline]

jaaaade!!! I wish we could see more of eddie and reader alone!!! Would you be open to writing about another date without roan or maybe roan at a sleepover??? xoxoxoxoxoxo

hey!!! eddie and roan without the roan!!! cw suggestive (they are deprived of one another its not my fault (it is technically my fault))

It's disconcerting to come home from work when Roan isn't there. There are no cartoons playing on TV, no shiny black Mary Jane's at the bottom of the stairs, no red vinyl raincoat on the bannister. Eddie's instantly visible across the hall in the kitchen, though his back is turned to you, arms buried in the sink. He's wearing your Walkman, head bobbing to music.

You nip into the living room even though Roan isn't home to feed Lucky the fish. 

"Baby?" Eddie shouts, loud, like he's mad. 

You quickly close the fish tank and present yourself for scolding. "What?" 

He's set the Walkman aside. 

His shirt is one of those shirts that he uses for both everyday life and bed. There's a hole at the neckline, and a wet patch near his stomach from the dishes, and the whole thing comes off in about ten seconds. 

You gawp at him. Eddie can be forward, but this forward?

He bursts into boyish giggles. "Your face! What are you thinking?" 

"What am I thinking?" you ask, on the defensive instantly, because not being so gives him room to dig his claws in. "I'm thinking me and my boyfriend are home alone for the first time in at least a month, and he's just called me like a dog and stripped in front of me, and- Eddie! Get away from me, don't you dare!" 

He snaps out like a snake and his arms are around you python tight, pulling you against his bare chest unabashedly. 

"I'm not your boyfriend. We're to be wed, if you forgot. And… You are such a nympho." 

"I am not," you say, grinning with laughter even as you struggle in his arms to get away. 

"You are. I took my shirt off because it's wet, not to come onto you."

"Do you remember when you used to be nice to me?" you ask mildly. 

"No." 

"No, me neither. Be nice to me, Munson, or you can make your own dinner." 

"You're making dinner?" he asks, eyes widened in surprise. 

"Don't act like I never make dinner." 

"Sorry," he says, "it's not that-"

You pat his cheek. "You do always make dinner, though. 'Cause you're a sweetheart, through and through." 

"Well you clean the bathroom, and we know how gross it is. Roan's a little freak." 

"She's a witch. Her latest potion included at least a quarter of your hair mousse, by the way." 

He leans in close to your face. "I'll make you dinner for the rest of our lives, if you want me to." His romantic side quickly fades back into the shadows. "But if you're offering, it's definitely your turn." 

"Nice," you say wryly. 

He hums his agreement, gives you two quick but well-meaning kisses, and let's you go where he'd herded you to the front door. "I'm gonna put on a dry shirt. Bring your pyjamas down?" 

"Please, handsome, if you will." 

"Duh." 

You spirit into the kitchen and turn the oven on. Then you wash your hands, pull a sack of potatoes from the cupboard, and get to chopping. 

"We're having homemade french fries and burgers. Unless you don't want burgers?" you ask, not looking as Eddie returns to the kitchen. 

"That's not funny. You know I always want burgers." 

You shove all your skin-on fries into the colander and you and Eddie swap. "Wash them for me, please?" 

"I'm already feeling like you cooking tonight is a lie." 

"I'm not lying!" you say, pushing your pants down to your thighs. 

You step out of them one leg at a time and shake out your pyjama pants. Eddie looks at you for a second, turns back to the faucet, and then double takes hard enough to make his neck click. You boo at his theatrics and pull on your new pants before he can waylay you with his nice hands. You're excited for some 'private time' with him, more excited to fill the aching pit of hunger in your stomach, and he could likely seduce you with one well aimed touch, so best to get dressed. 

"You have the fucking hottest thighs-" 

"Don't, Eddie," you plead, already laughing. 

"I'm being so serious right now. Fuck, can I just squeeze one?" 

"That's not even romantic." 

"I'm not trying to be…" He sets the washed potatoes aside on the draining board and quickly scrubs his hands dry. "I'm being honest with you, if I don't get my hands on your legs tonight I'm gonna pass out." 

His methods are questionable, but it's nice to be hyped up like that, especially when he usually keeps it PG. "You look so pretty today," doesn't ever lose its potency even when he says it every day, but the rarity of his more salacious comments means that each one makes you wanna jump him. 

"I think…" you say softly, tipping the fries on to a sheet pan and drizzling them with olive oil. He waits for you to finish. "We can make a deal." 

"What kind?" 

"Kind where you take it easy tonight and let me spoil you, and I'll make it worth your while." 

He takes it easy. He sits at the dinner table and you get to talk about things you haven't been able to for a while, properly, like bills and work and worries you don't say in front of Roan. Then you move on, talking about movies and music and heading into Indianapolis soon like you always say you will for an author event Eddie wants to go to. By the time the burgers are done, you're elated, head swimming with Eddie. You love Roan and love your life with her in it, but, separately, you adore Eddie. Everything about him. Even the way he talks is important to you: bravado and genuineness interlinked, making for an animated recount of his thoughts and feelings. 

You place a plate down in front of him with a great burger and a heaping pile of fries, and then you grab a coke from the fridge and pour it into a glass for him carefully. 

"You want ketchup?" 

He squints at you. "I can get my own ketchup." 

You take that for yes and retrieve the ketchup from the fridge, putting it with his plate and glass. 

"Where's yours?" he asks, covering his mouth as he chews a fry. 

You slowly, carefully, ease your way into his lap, giving him time to refuse you. 

He doesn't. 

You sit with your side to his chest and feel perfectly content as his arm wraps around you to hold you in place. "The deal is I get to spoil you," you remind him, stroking a curl out of his face. 

"I thought you meant, like, dinner," he says. 

"I do mean dinner. Dinner and everything else. You know you- you work so hard, 'n' you think I don't notice, I bet, but I do. You're the best dad, the best to-be-wed," you drawl. "You're my fucking guy, so you'll have to excuse me if I wanna get you the ketchup out of the fridge, loser." 

"You're a fucking loser." He's beaming. 

You stare at him, smile bright no matter how hard you try to tamp it down. "I love you. Let me hand feed you French fries like a serf holding grapes over an ancient courtesan, okay?" 

He tilts his head back in wait. 

Eddie lets you feed him fries, and somewhere between them his hand ends up exactly where he'd wanted it, between your legs and squeezing at the doughy flesh of your thigh. He couldn't look any happier. 

"You know what else would spoil me?" he asks, nosing at the skin under your ear. 

Your breath catches, sure he's going to say something awful. "What, baby?" 

"If you ate your food." 

You snort, spell broken, and go to stand, but Eddie's hand slides high up your thigh and lingers. "You'll need your strength," he adds. 

You push at his chest with your hand, tempted to roll your eyes at his smirking and nerdy delivery. "Whatever, baby." 

It's safe to say you aren't so dismissive of his bold claims later that night.