#i love every single one of my followers though and i appreciate you all so eo much

[writetheidea]

Too Much to Be Enough - part 2

Hi, I wrote the second part of this fanfiction while juggling my thesis, so I apologize if there are any mistakes. Please feel free to point them out in my DMs or asks—I'd really appreciate it. I couldn't bring myself to just write pure fluff without adding a bit of angst. As I mentioned in the story, rebuilding trust isn't a straightforward process. I hope you enjoy it!

Part 1

Pairing: Franco Colapinto x female character

Plot: after deeply hurting his girlfriend, Franco learns how hard it is to rebuild their relationship, learning that trust, once broken, is a delicate and painstaking process to restore.

Tag: hurt/comfort, angst, fluff.

Word count: 3178

Disclaimers: english is not my first language - I feel like you could tell from my writing style - so I apologize if some of the sentences structures are off, or if I use outdated or inappropriate-for-the-context words, I used a synonym dictionary to try and stop myself from repeating the same words, I still did do that though.

Franco had always been a man of control. On the racetrack, precision wasn’t just a skill; it was survival. Every turn, every decision, required complete mastery over chaos. Off the track, he wasn’t much different, carrying that same calculated demeanor into his personal life. The way he managed his career, his relationships, even the smallest aspects of his daily routine, all reflected his need to remain unshakable. Control was his armor, his identity. But this—watching the woman he loved drift further away because of his carelessness—was a storm he couldn’t navigate.

He had made a mistake. A single moment of thoughtlessness, a few careless words, the laughter that followed, had been enough to tear open the foundation of trust they had spent years building. The memory replayed endlessly in his mind, gnawing at him like a relentless tide. He could see it all too clearly: the way her face fell, how her voice quivered when she confronted him. She hadn’t screamed or shouted; she hadn’t even cried at first. She had just gone quiet, her silence heavier than any words could have been. It spoke of wounds too deep for words, a disappointment that no apology could touch.

At first, he had thought the tension might dissipate after a day or two. He had underestimated the depth of the wound he had inflicted. What followed was a purgatory of silence. She didn’t leave outright, but her presence was a ghost of what it had been. She avoided his touch, his gaze, even his attempts at conversation. The vibrant, warm woman he loved so fiercely had become a shadow, navigating their shared spaces like a stranger. Franco’s every attempt to bridge the gap between them fell flat—flowers went untouched, her favorite pastries remained uneaten, and the small notes he left for her disappeared without acknowledgment. It was as though she was erasing him piece by piece, and he could do nothing to stop it.

The silence was unbearable. He missed her laughter, the way she would light up when she spoke about her favorite books or dreams for the future. He missed the way she would reach for him instinctively, as though he was her safe harbor. Now, he felt like a trespasser in his own life, each moment with her a painful reminder of what he had broken. 

On the third night after the fight, Franco found himself sitting on their couch, his hands clasped tightly together. The room felt impossibly large, every corner of it carrying memories of better times. He could picture her curled up on the other side of the couch, her laughter filling the space as she recounted some silly anecdote or read him a passage from one of her favorite books. Now, the silence was deafening. He had spent hours going over what he might say to her, how he might begin to repair what he had broken, but words failed him.

Finally, he couldn’t take it anymore. “Please,” he said softly, his voice trembling. “I can’t stand this. Tell me what to do—tell me how to make this right.”

She didn’t even look at him, her gaze fixed somewhere distant. “What’s the point?” she said quietly. “You’ve already shown me what you think of me. You agreed with them, Franco. You laughed at me like I was a joke.”

Her voice broke on the last word, and Franco felt the full weight of her hurt settle over him. “That’s not true,” he said desperately. “I wasn’t thinking—”

“No,” she interrupted, finally turning to face him, her eyes flashing with rare anger. “You weren’t thinking. But that doesn’t change what you said. Or what you did.” Her voice cracked, and for the first time, Franco could see just how deeply he had hurt her. “Do you even understand how small that made me feel? Like I was some kind of joke? Like I’ll never be enough for you?” 

She paused, her face now showing the pain she had been harboring beneath the surface “What else do you want me to say, Franco? That I’m hurt? That I feel like I’ll never be enough for you now? You already know that”

Her words cut deeper than any insult, the quiet resignation in her voice tearing him apart. “You are enough,” he said fervently, reaching for her hand. “You’ve always been enough. I was stupid, careless—I didn’t mean what I said.”

“But you did,” she replied, pulling her hand away. “Maybe you didn’t mean for me to hear it, but you meant it. And I can’t unhear it, Franco. I can’t forget the way you agreed with them, the way you laughed about me like I was some… inconvenience.”

Her voice broke on the last word, and Franco felt his chest tighten, guilt clawing at him like a relentless tide. “I love you,” he said desperately. “I love everything about you. You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me, and I can’t lose you.”

She looked at him for a long moment, her eyes searching his face as if trying to find some trace of the man she had once trusted so completely. “Love isn’t supposed to hurt like this,” she whispered, her voice trembling. “And right now, being with you… it hurts.”

His throat tightened as he searched for words, but there was nothing he could say that would undo the damage. “You are everything to me,” he said finally, his voice raw. “And I’ll spend the rest of my life proving it if I have to.”

-----

But words weren’t enough, and he knew it. That night, she moved to the guest room, leaving their bed and a gaping void in his heart. He lay awake for hours, staring at the ceiling and replaying every moment he had failed her, every time he had taken her love for granted. He thought of her kindness, her patience, the way she had always believed in him, even when he doubted himself. And now, when she needed him most, he had failed to be the man she deserved.

The next morning, he woke to find her gone. A note on the counter said she was staying with a friend for a few days. He stared at the words until they blurred, his chest aching with the realization that she needed space from him—that being near him caused her pain. He couldn’t blame her for that, but it didn’t make it any easier to bear.

He threw himself into trying to make amends, even if she wasn’t there to see it. He cleaned the apartment from top to bottom, cooked her favorite meals, and set the table with candles and fresh flowers every day, hoping it might offer a small measure of comfort when she returned. The evening when she finally walked through the door, she paused, her eyes scanning the room before landing on him.

“What’s all this?” she asked, her voice wary.

“I thought we could have dinner together,” he said, his voice hesitant. “I know it doesn’t fix anything, but I thought… I just wanted to do something for you.”

She hesitated for a moment before sitting down at the table. They ate in near silence, the tension between them almost unbearable. He tried to ask about her day, her friend, anything to fill the void, but her answers were curt, her gaze fixed on her plate. By the time they finished, Franco felt more defeated than ever.

As she stood to leave, he reached for her hand, his grip gentle but firm. “Please. I’ll do whatever it takes,” he said. “Just tell me how to make this better.”

She looked down at him, her eyes filled with exhaustion. “I don’t know if you can,” she said softly. “But if you want to try, then stop looking for shortcuts. This isn’t about flowers or dinners. It’s about showing me that I matter to you—not just when it’s easy, but when it’s hard. It’s about showing me—every day—that you love me for who I am, not despite it.”

-----

From that moment on, Franco dedicated himself to proving his love, not through grand gestures but in the quiet, unremarkable moments of daily life. He began paying attention to the things she cared about—remembering the books she mentioned wanting to read, making sure her favorite tea was always stocked in the pantry, and taking over chores she usually handled so she wouldn’t have to. He didn’t push her to talk or try to force her forgiveness; instead, he gave her the space she needed, even when it hurt to keep his distance.

The process was slow and often discouraging. There were days when she barely acknowledged his efforts, her walls still firmly in place. But there were also small victories—like the time she laughed, a soft, unguarded sound that felt like sunlight breaking through the clouds. Or the day she found a note he had left in her book that simply said, “I see you. And I love you.” She didn’t say anything about it, but later that evening, she made them tea and sat beside him on the couch, the silence between them no longer quite so heavy.

-----

Franco thought he was making progress. Slowly but surely, she was beginning to let him in again. The walls she’d built around herself were still there, but they had started to crack. She smiled a little more often, lingered at the dinner table to talk about her day, and once, when they were watching an old movie on the couch, she leaned into him without pulling away. Each small step felt monumental, and Franco held onto the hope that one day, she might fully trust him again.

But trust, he learned, was fragile.

It happened at a party—a glamorous event hosted by one of Franco’s sponsors. He had been reluctant to go, worried about the strain it might put on their delicate truce, but she had insisted. “You shouldn’t have to give up your life because of me,” she said. He had taken her words as a sign that things were improving between them, a sign that she was ready to be part of his world again.

The evening started well enough. She looked stunning in a sleek, dark dress, her hair framing her face. Franco couldn’t take his eyes off her, and for a moment, he felt like the luckiest man in the room. They mingled with the crowd, exchanging polite pleasantries with sponsors and fellow racers. She held her own beautifully, her sharp wit and quiet confidence earning smiles and laughter from everyone she spoke to.

Then came the moment that undid everything.

Franco had stepped away to get them drinks, and when he returned, he overheard a group of men making crude jokes about her. The words were vile—reducing her to nothing more than a pretty accessory, a trophy to be paraded around. Franco’s blood boiled, but instead of stepping in to defend her, he froze. He laughed awkwardly, muttered something dismissive, and walked away.

What he didn’t realize was that she had overheard, her expression a mask of disbelief and hurt as she stood just out of view.

Later that night, as they drove home, the tension in the car was suffocating. She stared out the window, silent, her arms crossed tightly across her chest. Franco tried to fill the void with small talk, but each word felt hollow.

Finally, she turned to him, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. “Why didn’t you say anything?”

“What are you talking about?” he asked, though he already knew.

“I heard them, Franco. I heard what they said about me. And I heard you laugh. Again.”

His hands tightened on the steering wheel. “It wasn’t like that,” he said quickly. “I didn’t mean—”

“You didn’t mean what? To defend me? To show them that I’m more than the joke they made me out to be?” Her voice cracked, and she turned away, shaking her head. “I thought you were different. I thought you respected me.”

“I do respect you,” he said, his voice rising. “I didn’t know what to say—I panicked.”

“Panicked?” she repeated, her voice dripping with disbelief. “I was standing there, Franco. Listening to them degrade me, waiting for you to have my back. And you panicked?”

The argument spilled into their apartment, growing louder and more painful with each passing moment. By the time it was over, she was packing a bag, tears streaming down her face as she threw clothes into a suitcase.

“Please don’t do this,” Franco said, his voice raw. “Don’t leave. We can fix this.”

She stopped, her hands trembling as she gripped the edge of the suitcase. “You don’t get it, do you?” she said, her voice shaking. “This isn’t just about tonight. It’s about every time you’ve made me feel small, every time you’ve chosen your pride or your reputation over me. I can’t do this anymore.”

And with that, she was gone.

-----

The months that followed were the darkest of Franco’s life. She didn’t answer his calls or texts, and when he went to her friend’s house to see her, he was turned away at the door. For the first time, he had to confront the possibility that he might have lost her for good.

Franco threw himself into therapy, desperate to understand why he kept sabotaging the one thing that mattered most to him. His sessions were grueling, forcing him to confront parts of himself he had long ignored—the insecurities he buried beneath his arrogance, the fear of vulnerability that drove him to push people away.

He also began writing her letters, pouring his heart onto the page in a way he had never been able to do in person. He didn’t know if she would ever read them, but it was the only way he could process his feelings.

Months passed. Slowly, Franco began to change—not for her, but for himself. He realized that he couldn’t ask her to come back if he wasn’t willing to become the man she deserved.

Then, one day, he received an unexpected text.

“Meet me at the park tomorrow at 2.”

His heart leapt, but he forced himself to temper his expectations. When he arrived, she was sitting on a bench, her posture stiff, her expression guarded.

“I got your letters,” she said, her voice quiet.

“And?” he asked, his heart pounding.

“They were… honest,” she admitted. “But honesty doesn’t erase what happened.”

“I know,” he said. “I don’t expect you to forgive me—not yet, maybe not ever. But I want you to know that I’m trying. I’m working on myself, and not just because I want you back. I need to be better, for me. For whoever I become, with or without you.”

She studied him for a long moment, her eyes searching his face. “I don’t know if I can trust you again,” she said finally. “But I’m willing to try. Slowly. On my terms.”

“I’ll wait as long as it takes,” he said, his voice steady. “I’m not going anywhere.”

-----

True to her word, she made Franco work for her trust. There were no shortcuts, no grand declarations that could fix what was broken. If he wanted to be in her life again, he had to earn his place every single day.

Their relationship became a fragile thread, held together by small, cautious interactions. They started meeting once a week for coffee, their conversations polite but distant. She kept him at arm’s length, her walls firmly in place. Franco didn’t push; he simply showed up, week after week, ready to prove himself.

One day, as they walked through the park after coffee, she turned to him abruptly. “Why didn’t you stand up for me?” she asked, her voice trembling.

The question caught him off guard, but he didn’t shy away from it. “Because I was afraid,” he admitted. “Afraid of looking weak, afraid of being judged. But mostly… afraid that if I stood up for you and got it wrong, you’d see me as a failure.”

Her eyes softened, but her expression remained guarded. “And now?”

“Now I realize that failing you is worse than failing in front of anyone else,” he said. “If I ever get the chance again, I promise you, I won’t let you down.”

She nodded slowly, her gaze distant. “We’ll see.”

The weeks turned into months, and their connection began to deepen again. She started sharing more of herself, though cautiously, and Franco matched her vulnerability with his own. He told her about the therapy sessions, about the childhood insecurities that had shaped his need for control and approval. It was a side of him she had never seen before, and while it didn’t erase the past, it gave her hope that he was truly changing.

-----

It wasn’t a single moment that brought them back together, but a series of small ones—acts of kindness, vulnerability, and unwavering support. Franco became a man she could rely on, not just in words but in actions. He stood up for her, prioritized her needs, and made her feel seen and valued in every aspect of their lives.

There were moments when he doubted himself, wondering if he was fighting a losing battle. And there were nights when he lay awake, haunted by the memory of her tears, the sound of her voice breaking as she told him how much he had hurt her. Through it all, he held onto the hope that one day, she would see how much he loved her—that she would believe it, not because he said it, but because he showed it in every action, every choice he made.

One rainy afternoon, he decided to try something different. He pulled out a cookbook she had always loved but rarely used and flipped to a page with a recipe for her favorite cake. He was hopeless in the kitchen, but he wanted to try—to show her that he was willing to make an effort, no matter how small. When she came home and found him fumbling with ingredients, the sight stopped her in her tracks.

“What are you doing?” she asked, her voice tinged with incredulity.

“Trying to make your cake,” he said, holding up a whisk like it was a weapon. “It’s probably going to be terrible, but I thought—”

She interrupted him with a soft laugh. “You’re going to burn the kitchen down.”

“Maybe,” he said, grinning sheepishly. “But I figured it was worth the risk.”

She stepped toward him, closing the distance that had felt insurmountable for so long. “You’re ridiculous,” she said, but her tone was warm, her eyes soft as she reached for the whisk. “Let me help you.”

As they cooked together, bumping elbows and laughing at his mistakes, Franco felt something shift. It wasn’t complete trust—not yet—but it was a beginning. And as he watched her smile, he realized that this was what love was: not grand gestures or perfect moments, but showing up, every day, and choosing each other even when it was hard.

[ffsg0jo]

ONLY if youre comfortable w sharing, how many followers do you have? just outta curiousity~ if you don't wanna answer pls ignore !

i don't mind sharing at all nonny :)) thank you so much for being polite, but first, im curious as to how many you think i have 👀

[ohdeerfully]

alastor request HAI can it be based on the fact that alastor doesn't sleep, and it's his lover finding out that petting his ears during cuddling makes him fall asleep.

thank you for your service

yess i love sleepy alastor thank u so much anon :D!!

Goodmorning, Love

Alastor x Reader (fluff) TW: none! join my discord! ═══ ◈ ══════════ ◈ ══════════ ◈ ══════════ ◈ ═══

You were well aware of the Radio Demon’s sleep habits. Or, well, lack of sleep habits. You often spent nights in his room, where he would sit with you in bed until you fell asleep and go do whatever the hell he gets up to late at night. You always woke up in an empty room, and often so in the middle of the night, struggling to rest again as a greedy tightness gripped your chest in worry and disappointment.

You understood, though, and tried your best not to let it get to you that you didn’t have his warm body next to you when you woke every morning. But you couldn’t help that twinge of sadness. You weren’t particularly needy or clingy, but would it kill him to stay in bed with you for a single night? And to have a slice of domestic bliss as you woke up?

Obviously. 

You roll your eyes as you lay, staring up at the ceiling. You had just gotten ready for bed, and now waited for said demon to join you for a few hours. Your fingers tapped, impatient, against your chest as you hummed absentmindedly.

“How lovely,” You heard him speak. Tickles of that radio static that always followed him clung to your exposed skin, which was signal enough that he had entered the room had he not announced himself. “What a siren you are, luring me here with that hum of yours.”

You smiled slightly at his comment, scooching over slightly to encourage him over. He obliged, joining you under the covers. He still wore his usual outfit, which made sense considering his tendency to go away all night. You purse your lips at the thought, slightly chewing on the skin.

“Why the face?” Of course he noticed your expression. He always noticed when any emotion tickled your face. You appreciated the genuine tone in his voice, the typical buzz of radio barely detectable in his words. He always got a little softer and kinder when he was alone with you like this.

You appreciated nights with him, being able to see a side of him that nobody else would live to spread word of. You enjoyed feeling a little special, especially to somebody like him.

“Do you think you could stay in,” You asked cautiously, fiddling with your hands as you inched closer to him, pressing your body against his. Even laying, he still seemed much taller than you. You gingerly guided his head down, against your chest as you spoke, hoping the multitasking would keep him from sitting up and rejecting your intimate gestures. “Just for a night. I miss you all night long.”

He allowed his head to lay against you. He did feel tense, of course, letting the back of his head be exposed in this manner as he lay vulnerable on you. It was a strange feeling, but not one he cared to consider for too long. 

“(Y/N),” He began with a sigh. “It’s impossible for me to get much done during the day, what with all the running around Charlie does. Somebody has to keep an eye on that young princess. I prefer to stay awake to get my own errands done at night.” 

I know that, you wanted to say and interrupt his explanatory ramble. You wanted to beg him to understand, just this once. You held in a sigh, watching as his head gently rose and fell with every breath you took. Maybe you should just take this submission from him as good enough.

You gingerly began tangling your fingers through his red hair, brushing out any kinks he may have gotten throughout the day. His tense body seemed to ease slightly, becoming more and more relaxed as you weaved your fingers through the locks.

“You have really soft hair, Al,” You commented, changing the subject. You figured there was no use convincing him. You let your fingers lightly trail upwards, up to his ears. You grazed them slightly with a finger. You touched again. When he made no motion of dislike, you fully began rubbing them. Petting him. You smiled to yourself at the idea of petting the feared Radio Demon. “And your ears are even softer.”

“I try to take care of myself,” He responded proudly. There was another hint of something in his voice, but you couldn’t quite place what it was. But it seemed heavy. “A well groomed man is a successful one.” You absentmindedly agreed as you stroked the velvety fur of his ears, switching back and forth between them and his hair. You had a preference for the ears, though.

You sighed and began humming quietly again. He rarely got so… comfortable, even around you. He always had some sort of guard up, always had his shoulders squared. He almost never became so… loose and vulnerable.

You noticed the clippings of radio frequency had stopped, which was a noise that was ever present in his wake. You had a suspicion why it disappeared, a small grin forming on your face.

Yes, the Radio Demon never slept. But that was a choice he made, not a curse that prevented him. Even demons get tired. You don’t know how Alastor makes it day by day without a wink of rest, but it was apparent that exhaustion had built up in him. He just needed to relax for a second.

You graced your fingers over his fringe, and craned your neck in a way to get a glance at his face. Yeah, you were right. 

He laid there, eyes shut, features relaxed with the lightest grin playing on his face. Even in sleep, you complained. It didn’t really matter. What mattered was the sound of his deep, slow breathing and occasional twitch of his velvety ears. You briefly wondered what the Radio Demon would dream about.

Would he be aggravated with you when he woke up, realizing you had practically cast a sleep spell on him? You didn’t, but the rate of which exhaustion took over may as well have been some sort of magic.

You shut your own heavy eyes, exhaling lightly as you continued to comfort yourself with the texture of his fur and hair. It didn’t take long for you to fall asleep.

You craned your arms and neck as consciousness came back to you, but an unfamiliar weight kept you from getting that good stretch in. Momentarily confused, you blinked open and looked down.

Red and black hair, more of a mess than usual, still took place on your torso. This was a first, and your chest felt like exploding with the glee of seeing Alastor still resting with you. He somehow looked even more relaxed than the night before, his cheek flush against your stomach, squishing his lips up slightly. A light grin was still there.

You gently brushed your fingers over his face, trailing a line around his features with an index finger. His eyes squeezed for a moment, and that static ambience of his slowly, quietly, returned. It was a noise that you had learned to find comfort in. He slowly opened his red eyes, a confused and sleepy daze clouding them. There was a wrinkle in his brow as he roughly propped himself up with an elbow, looking up at you with a furrowed expression.

“(Y/N)..?” He trailed, pausing to take in a shuddering morning yawn through a confused smirk. “Did I… Dear, what time is it?”

You looked at him tenderly. Oh, how cute he was, sleepy like this. Composed like an exhausted kid. Something even you have never seen before.

“Yeah,” You responded to his unspoken question. “It’s probably seven a.m. or so. I dunno.” There wasn’t a clock in your immediate line of sight.” “A.m. …” He said slowly. He sat up fully, looking down in disappointment at his wrinkled day wear. He quickly blinked the sleep from his eyes and managed to bring some composure to himself, but that lick of exhaustion was still prominent. Especially under his eyes.

“Yeah,” You said again, a light chuckle following. “Goodmorning, Al.”

He wasn’t obviously upset, it seemed. Though he probably was too tired to think about it too much yet. Maybe later.

“Well… Goodmorning, love.” He responded, still with a hint of confusion in his voice. “I suppose I accepted your plea from last night.” He brushed at his clothes while he spoke, trying to flatten out the creases that were brought on through a night of rest.

“Maybe more often?” You asked, twiddling your thumbs in anticipation. You already knew the answer, but it was okay. You knew how to keep him in now. You mischievously smirked as he closed his eyes and shook his head.

“Unlikely.”

[pyrodolls]

hi i was wondering if you would do headcannons of the yan!fanboy if reader actually noticed him coming to all their shows and events

obsessed (superfan! yandere boy x gn!popstar reader)

warnings: stalking, average yandere tendencies, nsfw, perverted yandere, gender neutral reader, mentions of naked reader but no genitalia addressed, dom reader, reader is compliant with the yandere and teases him a ton, lowercase intended. btw i do not condone yanderes irl.

a/n: i hope y'all know i read every single one of your asks, comments, and reblogs. i appreciate them all and they do brighten my day. i'm just saying this so y'all know that the stuff you send to other writers (not just me) matters a lot!! when you interact it gives them inspiration!!! and motivation!! me personally sometimes i see ONE kind reblog and i immediately get my ass up and start writing something just because of that one person. don't get me wrong, i still love all my lurkers that silently like a ton of my stuff, y'all are important too. anyways i'll shut up now onto the hcs. (btw this ended up being a fic instead of hcs i apologize. i went crazy over this i'm sorry anon LMAO)

"hey, you look pretty familiar. have you been to a few shows before?" you asked kindly, facing the short man in the front row of the audience.

bayani froze as the stadium's screens pointed to him. he opened his mouth in an attempt to say something, but nothing came out. his face went red and his throat went dry. did you actually notice him, or was he just dreaming?

after a few seconds of waiting for an answer, you shrugged. "sorry, maybe i mistook you for someone else. anyways..."

the yandere boy still didn't move, with his mouth agape, as you continued on with your show. the people around bayani didn't seem to care, assuming that he was just a starstruck fan. but it was more than that. much more than that.

out of the millions of fans that attend your shows and events, you recognized him among them. you noticed him. and he didn't know how to handle it. what was he supposed to say? what would you even talk about? sure, he's seen all of your interviews and heard your music and dissected your lyrics for hours every single day, but would you ever want to interact with him as much as he wanted to interact with you? he was just a lowlife. he had an average job, average amount of money, he lived in a shitty apartment, and he had no friends or major accomplishments. all of his free time outside of work was spent on you. spent on following your every move and investigating everything you've put your hands on. if you ever spoke to him, you'd probably think he was some sort of pathetic stalker.

that thought drove him mad. he couldn't even focus on the rest of your concert. he didn't hear the blaring music and screams from the crowd. he wasn't paying attention to your performance, either.

he could only stand there and imagine the punishments you'd inflict on him if you found out about his obsession. would you call your security to take him away? he'd hope not. if he's going to be kicked and pushed around, perhaps even handcuffed, he'd rather you do the job rather than some random guard. but maybe he'd accept the punishment, only because you were the one who deemed it necessary. he takes your word like gospel, so he'll take whatever punishment you want, even though he would prefer your hands on him while you do it.

his imagination ran wild as your concert finished and you walked off the stage with your dancers. the crowd of fans in the stadium dispersed around him, moving along with their day. but bayani couldn't just move on with his day knowing that you know he exists now. how is he supposed to simply move on from that? he spent a long time making sure you never noticed him. even though he attended every single one of your concerts and events, he did not want to be noticed. he knew he wouldn't be able to handle it. but it finally happened. he finally got a taste of what it's like to be seen by the love of his life. he couldn't just leave it at that. he had to do something about it.

being under your gaze, even if it was only a few seconds, made him feel like he went to heaven. it made all of the hundreds of dollars he spent on you worth it. all of the hours he spent listening to your music and watching videos of you was worth it. it was like he awoke from a slumber. a long, miserable slumber. he had to find a way to thank you. say something to you. he messed up when he simply froze after you saw him. who knows when he'll get another chance like that?

it took a few hours for the stadium to be empty, and the security started to shoo bayani away. but when he went outside, the parking lot was still full. your concert ended hours ago, but there was still loads of cars trying to leave. it would be frustrating, but bayani had to find a way out quickly.

he climbed on the back of a nearby truck and rested his legs there, waiting patiently for the vehicle to move out of the traffic. even though he knew the truck wouldn't go anywhere near your mansion, he knew how to get to your house on foot. he only needed to rest on the truck until the traffic was gone.

after a few hours on the road, he jumped out of the vehicle, and started to walk to your mansion on foot. he didn't need to look up the location online, because he already knew where it was. he visited your home many times in the past, he just never attempted to go inside before.

his veins were on fire and he started to sweat the closer he got. he was starting to have second thoughts about his idea. but there was no time to go back, because he already showed up to your house before he could change his plans.

to get inside, he had to climb up a tree, jump off of it, and land in your backyard. he used that trick often in the past, since it was not his first time going to your house. he often snuck on your property to watch or take pictures of you while you slept.

he tried opening your bedroom window, but it was locked. he had to try a different one.

he went over to a window beside your bedroom, and thankfully, it was unlocked. but the moment he opened the window, he heard the sound of water running and your familiar voice humming a song. were you in the shower?

bayani climbed inside as quietly as possible, and closed the window behind him. his suspicions were correct. he was in your bathroom, and you were taking a shower. your curtains covered up your figure, so he couldn't see you.

bayani looked to the side of the room and saw a pile of your dirty clothes on the floor. he ran up to it and immediately took a large whiff at the pile. it smelled divine to him. he couldn't get enough of it. he quickly spotted your used underwear in the pile and snatched it without thinking, then he stuffed it in his pocket. you wouldn't notice, right?

before he could take the rest of your clothes, the water suddenly stopped. bayani ran to hide, in a spot where you couldn't see him but he could see you. you opened the shower curtains and stepped out with a towel in your hands. you were completely naked, and still drenched in water. bayani felt like he died and went to heaven again that day. he couldn't believe what he was seeing. you were completely naked, right in front of his eyes. ignoring the puddle in his pants, he nervously fumbled around his pockets, trying to find his phone. there was no way he could pass up an opportunity like this. without hesitation, he snapped a photo of you.

but he didn't notice that the flash was on.

he froze, and you looked towards him. neither of you said a word, and bayani saw his future flash before his eyes. you would probably scream for security and he would get taken away to prison, never to see your face again. his life would be over.

"you're the guy i've been seeing everywhere, huh?" you whispered.

"...are you going to, uh... send me away?" bayani gulped.

you thought about it for a moment. this guy clearly cared a lot about you, because you saw him literally everywhere you went. no matter what country you visited, he was always there. even if you didn't tell a single soul where you were going, he was somehow always there. you even saw him on your property a few times, so you knew how crazy he was. but you still let him do it. and you never reported him, either. you knew exactly what he wanted. you could always hear him moaning outside your window, knowing he would have one hand down his pants and a camera on the other.

he was cute, so why not have some fun with him?

"come here." you commanded. he followed your order without thinking, immediately falling down to his knees in front of you.

you grabbed his chin, and made him look up at you. he felt hot tears well up in his eyes as you stared him down. he didn't say a word, but you knew exactly what he was thinking.

you pressed your knee against the wet stain on his pants, and he let out a pathetic whimper. he was getting off on it.

he didn't know what to do. his dreams were finally coming true. he got noticed by you, got into your house, saw you naked, and you finally touched him. he was overwhelmed, and started crying. he didn't mean to look so weak in front of you for a first impression, but he couldn't help it. besides, he'd make a fool out of himself any day for you.

"you're so pathetic.. you've been stalking me for so long, and now you break into my house to see me naked. i could call the police and have you arrested..." you whispered, as you started putting more pressure on his crotch, moving your knee up and down on it, and inching your face closer to his.

he sobbed, “please, don't! i promise, it'll never happen again. i'll stop, i'll do whatever you want, i'll-"

you cut him off by connecting your lips to his, setting his heart on fire. you pulled away after a few seconds, leaving him speechless. there's no way you just kissed him. he had to be dreaming.

and then you moved your knee away from his crotch right before he could cum, making him let out a whimper and crumble to the ground.

"thanks for letting me have some fun with you. we can do this again soon.. if you be a good boy and return my underwear." you winked, walking away and leaving bayani a hard, pathetic, leaking mess on your bathroom floor.

[babyleostuff]

. . . praising the hhu for the “lalali” MV

[🍒] choi seungcheol

ugh, this man would be so smug (he’s a leo after all), you would not be able to wipe that annoying smirk off his face for the rest of the day (he’d probably fall asleep with it too). choi seungcheol lives for the praise and it makes his ego skyrocket (as it should because he’s the best), but he’d be so annoying with it. he’d follow you everywhere and be like “oh, so you loved the earrings that much?” or “tell me again how good i look with those green highlights”. man would be unstoppable. but deep inside he’s kind of freaking out because “omg omg omg they loved me in the MV” *heart eyes*. (and he’s a lil cutie patootie so at the end of the day when you’re laying in bed he cuddles closer to you, and is like “did i really look that good?)

[🍒] jeon wonwoo

(this era belongs to wonwoo change my mind) 

he knew you’d go fucking feral over him in this MV, i mean the visuals, the outfits, the attitude, THE RAP - come on, there was no way you wouldn’t end up screaming at every scene with him. he was especially excited for you to see the “mafia boss” scene with him, since he knows how much you love the jeon “actor” wonwoo agenda. and he was not let down in the slightest. at first his plan was to tease you over your reaction, but he found it hard to do it since you looked adorable (and low key crazy) fangirling over him in the MV. like, you’re really cute for getting excited over a barely three minute video, jumping around the room, and screaming like a maniac, so he just ends up looking at you fondly as you rewatch the MV for the tenth time.

[🍒] kim mingyu

he wasn't sure if he should have warned you before you played the MV about his naked tiddie scene because he was afraid you would fall off the couch and hurt yourself. like, he knew exactly what your reaction would be on that scene, so he wanted to avoid any accidents if he could. but, to his surprise, you sat through the whole MV in silence, and when it ended you simply laid on the floor, and he was like??? you good??? and then, as if the reality hit you, mingyu got what he wanted - you yapping about every single thing you found hot in this MV (which was everything), at one point you started even hitting him and yelling at him for being so handsome. all mingyu could do was to laugh because he knew that this was your way of showing your appreciation. another annoyingly smug one, ugh (not only is he tall and big as hell, but his ego is even bigger, he’s so annoying seriously).

[🍒] vernon chwe

he’s kind of like “do i really look that good?” but then he looks at you, and your excited reaction, and goes “yeah, i guess i am that cool.” he just really appreciates your reaction, and all of your compliments, and wild screams, and incoherent words - whatever comes his way he soaks it up like a sponge because hearing that praise from you makes him feel so so good. and ohmy he loves your reaction to the middle finger scene, the way you laugh and your excited “let’s go” makes him smile like an idiot, though he gets a bit shy too. he just truly feels blessed for having someone who will praise him so much over a MV like it’s the biggest masterpiece to ever exist.

[juletheghoul]

Grown

AN: I am sort of going through a writing bender? A manic episode? I don't know, I just know that if I don't get it down I will lose my mind. I have been wanting to write an age-gap fic for Joel (aside from LMF) for a while but I couldn't really find the format or the idea that I could sink my teeth into. There are SO MANY good ones out there, I even had a whole other thing started but it got too intense, and making it sexual wouldn't have been true to that version of Joel, so here is what I came up with. (I kept Tess out of this story) Big thank you to @foli-vora for letting me exorcise this demon, and to @frannyzooey for putting up with my endless messages and voice notes through discord, love y'all! (this is unbeta'd and barely proofread, any and all mistakes are mine)

Joel Miller x F!reader (sex worker) (Joel calls you ‘Pretty’)

Pairing: Joel x F!Reader

Word Count: 4.9K

Warnings: (18+ NO MINORS) , language, Smut 18+, PIV sex (wrap it up), fingering, cream pie, one lonely little lick of his cock👅, come play sort of? dirty talk, age gap (legal), feelings of guilt, talk of sex work, some of it traumatic (no details, no violence)

Let me know if I missed anything!

reblogs are appreciated

Masterlist 

He was a risk, calculated but definitely worth it up close. He fidgeted, flexing and unflexing his hands as you moved around the tiny studio apartment. Your home, and ‘office’. You’d searched long and hard, and paid a hefty price for the soft lamps, the newish linens for your bed, the homey touches.

He shifted his weight as you put the quilt down, separating the outside world from the privacy of your sheets. Easier to clean up after too. 

“Boots off, please.” You gesture to the place by the door, and he nodded with a frown. 

“Sorry.” He groaned as he brought his foot up and for a moment you saw his age, through the pleasant features. 

“No problem, how do you want me?” You stand at the foot of the bed, naked under the well-worn, but cherished robe and for a moment he gawps. You don’t laugh, men don’t like it when you laugh. “On my back?” 

“Wait- how old are you again?” He pads over, tall and broad, obscuring the light source when he walks past it. 

“Old enough.” You smile, “come, why don’t you sit here with me?” You hold out your hand to him, and after a tense glance, he takes it and sits where you gesture. His grip is firm, but soft, years of hard work rooted in the calluses that meet your significantly softer palm. It isn’t a turn off though, he’s a man, men work hard. The real ones do, or did anyway.

“How long do I have? S’there anyone else…?” He trails off, his voice cutting off and you smile, placating. 

“You have as long as you need, tonight's all yours.” You sit beside him, and put your hand tentatively on his arm, channeling every single ounce of calm you have and pouring it into him. He’s warm and alive beside you, heat radiating off him under the soft pass of your thumb against the skin peeking out under the denim sleeve, you let the soft light, the light patter of rain outside your window work on him. He surveys the area, learning the layout of your space and you don’t interfere, you follow his gaze and try to see it all from his point of view. 

It's small, but comfortable. It’s exceedingly clean, you’d spent hours and hours making sure, back breaking hours on your hands and knees scrubbing and washing and it had paid off, no matter how sore you’d been after. There’s a little table, with two chairs, a big lumpy chair near the window, where you spent most of your time not working curled up with one of your precious books. He noticed the tiny chest of drawers, the top of it clear except for a half-full glass of water. He saw the baseball bat leaning against the wall tucked just behind it. 

“Can I get a little closer?” You scoot a little, pressing your thigh to his, turning to hold his restless arm between your breasts, your fingers intertwining with his while he got accustomed to your own warmth. Those big, callused, hard-working hands wrapped up in yours. Invitingly warm.

Some people needed a little push, sometimes they were nervous on how to start and they needed someone to get them out of their heads. Some wanted to talk, to sprawl out naked with you and get all of their thoughts out. 

Loneliness is the main malady you alleviate. 

Some didn’t want to talk at all, some just wanted you to open your legs and take, and that was okay too. Everyone had their thing. 

“This okay?” You put your linked palms on the little bit of skin poking out through the gap in your robe, your skin surrounding both sides of his hand. 

“Yeah, s’okay.” He watches the robe slip open, and his other hand joins the fray, pulling it apart to see more of your thigh. He licks his lip as more of you is revealed and you artfully let the shoulder slip, drawing his eye up to your cleavage. He pats his leg, and you get a genuine thrill, sliding over and up onto his lap. He needed no further guidance after that, now that he had permission, his body was taking over. 

His eyes were dark, focused, tracking the line of your throat when you swallowed thickly. He watched the way your breath hitched when he slid his hand up your inner thigh and found you bare underneath, his fingers slipping through the silky hair at your mound, his fingers parting your lips softly to find your slick folds. He lets out a shuddering breath at the same time you do, when his finger slips over your clit. 

“I’m too old for you, pretty.” He watches his hand between your legs, using it to spread your thighs enough to see your pussy dripping for him. 

“You don’t feel too old.” You hold onto his neck, giving him more access and your stomach drops to feel him hardening under the swell of your ass. You pull his hand from between your legs, and dip his fingers into your mouth, hollowing your cheeks around them before pressing them back against your achy clit. He pulls a genuine moan of pleasure at the extra slip when he swirls around your clit nice and slow. Tortuous, and talented.

“So fuckin’ soft,” He glides his fingers down, circling your entrance but his eyes are focused on your mouth now, “bet you’re tight as a fist, aren’t you baby?” He slides two thick fingers inside and you clutch at him, more turned on by him than you’ve ever been doing this line of work.

It’s a stretch, but he works them in, pressing against your upper wall, looking for something and when he finds it you whimper in his arms. 

“Do you kiss?” You barely hear him over the blood pounding in your ears, his fingers curling inside you, and he puts more pressure on the button he’s found and you moan, lost and mindlessly enjoying the fullness. 

He presses devastatingly soft, tender kisses to your throat, completely at odds with the wet sounds of his exploration between your legs. 

“Baby, can we kiss?” He repeats it, this time with his fingers still, but stuffed deep. You press your mouth to his, humid and hot and he tastes like the good alcohol you have stashed in your cupboard. He groans and his fingers scissor inside you, squelching between your legs with every lazy pump. He traps your bottom lip between his, alternating a teasing bite to the plump of it, with deep licks into your mouth. You’ve never been kissed like this. 

“You just gonna use your fingers?” He pulls away to skim his nose down your neck, bunching the top of the robe in the splayed hand at your back to pull it down from where it hangs on your shoulder. His mouth engulfs your nipple when it falls and any thoughts that he may be too old for you seem to slip his mind because he doubles down, moaning obscenely into your skin as you leak onto his lap. 

“No, just wanna open you up, I wanna make sure this little pussy can take me.” Arousal and excitement pools in your belly. 

“What a gentleman.” You laugh, half crazed with lust for this man who just might be old enough to be your father. He smiles, drunk on the way your pussy clenches around his fingers, his spit still shining on your breast. He has a dimple, so boyish in contrast to the grey in his beard and in his hair you can’t help but love it, it suits him.

“Spread your legs a little more for me darlin’,” one hand is heavy on your hip, holding you so you can drop one leg and open up a little more, “I wanna see you come,” he speeds up, his thumb now doing tight little circles against your clit and you moan, unabashedly, “look how wet she is,” he stares between your legs “I just wanna see her come.” He hooks his fingers again and the pressure is almost too much. It only takes a few moments, his fingers pet, pet, pet and then you clench, the pleasure going off in your belly like a bomb, radiating out through your breasts, into your hips, all the way down to your fingers and toes. 

A universe contained within your body, borne of his hand.

“Fuck.” Your legs close over his hand, and he slows down but doesn’t stop, a softer, slower stroke while you catch your breath. “Let's get you outta these clothes.” you start undoing the buttons to his shirt, admiring the breadth of his shoulders, the smattering of freckles littered along his skin. He pulls his fingers out from between your legs, shiny and dripping in you and sticks them into his mouth, moaning at the tang of you. 

Undressing him is like opening a gift. His arms are strong, his biceps flexing when he all but lifts you up to stand, pulling your robe off and away from you like it’s on fire. His midsection is soft, but you can feel the strength underneath when you undo his jeans, tensing in excitement the closer you get to the considerable bulge in them. You curl your fingers around both his jeans, and his boxers, impatient to get him naked. You crouch as you pull them down, mouth watering at the size of him, hard and bobbing in front of you. The muscles in his thighs are firm, his skin so warm and you can’t help but lick a stripe up the underside of his cock on the way back up. 

He lets out a sound like he's been punched in the gut and you take it in like sustenance. 

“Don’t–I’ll come too fast if you put it in your mouth.”

You reach up to wrap your arms around his neck, just as he reaches down to grab and spread the cheeks of your ass, stomach full of butterflies at the feeling of him hard and leaking against your belly. 

“But I wanna swallow it, I wanna feel it in my throat.” You pout and he lets out a shuddering breath, “Don’t you wanna fuck my mouth?” You press your lips to the hollow of his throat, your fingers slipping through the unruly, grey strands at the back of his neck. 

“Not now baby, I’m barely goin' to last as it is.” He turns you, pressing you to lay in the middle of your quilt and he’s quick to follow, fitting himself between your legs, leaning on one arm beside your skull and when he grabs his cock and gives it a few strokes, you almost can’t watch him. It’s too erotic, it looks so big in his hand, too big to fit but you know it will, he’ll make it fit. 

“Jesus Christ,” He whispers as he feeds himself inside you slowly, an inch, before pulling it out, then a little more, until he’s fucking you a little deeper each time. 

There wasn’t enough air in the room to fill your lungs, he took up every fucking drop. You’d been with other men, you’d been with women, all of them taking their pleasure from your body and most of them giving pleasure in return, this was something else. This was almost scary, the way the vision of him above you made your brain buzz and your nipples hard, made your cunt leak all over him. 

He moves up onto his knees, those big hands pull your legs up and apart, pressing the backs of your thighs into your chest, practically folding you in half to slide his cock deeper still.

He snapped his hips hard, pulling a sound you’d never made out of your mouth, again, and again, until it was a continuous babble. He watches the way his cock disappears inside the tight clutch of your cunt with every dirty roll of his hips. He sinks a little further down, and adjusts his stroke, until just the tip of it stays inside of every heavy push forward. 

This isn’t some desperate, lonely old guy looking to get his dick wet, this is a grown man, fucking you like a grown man does and you feel like a grown woman taking it. 

“Joel, baby that’s so fucking good-“ you press your hands to his chest where he leans against you. He’s focused, eyes glazed over, sweat dripping down his nose in his efforts. He shuts his eyes tight for a moment, his pace stuttering slightly and you know he’s not gonna last.

“I wanna see her come with me inside,” he whines, and you don’t want him to stop what he’s doing so you reach down and swirl your fingers around your clit while he watches, “that’s it baby, that’s it, fuck, I’m close-“ he somehow spreads you wider, the wet suck of your pussy is louder, more obscene, more erotic. 

“I’m gonna come, I’m gonna-“ the orgasm strangles the words in your throat, pulsing him out but he pushes back in and you feel it all the way in your toes. 

“Fuuuuuckkk—“ he pulls out and pumps himself furiously against your mound, covering the soft patch of hair in spurt after milky spurt. It’s a lot, some has splashed onto your hip, your belly, you feel it slipping down to where you clench, empty and gaping without him filling you. 

It’s quiet for a moment after, while your blood cools, and he milks himself dry, pumping a few more times despite the over-sensitivity. 

“You got anything for me to clean you up with?” He rubs at the indents he left on the back of your thighs before unfolding you. 

“There’s a little pile of rags in that first drawer behind you.” You point to the tiny chest of drawers, and he groans when he moves up and off of you. Now that he’s emptied his balls, the signs of his age rear their heads. He groans, wincing as he bends forward to carefully wipe everything away with gentle hands. 

It’s nice to see him walk around naked, welcome, you wouldn’t mind seeing it more often, if he came back that was. 

“That was-“ he scratches at the back of his neck, passing the cloth over your belly, “that was really good.”

“I’ll say, it was better than good.” You stretch out and luxuriate like a cat in warm patch of sun, seriously debating offering him time to recover so he could fuck you again. He quirks his lip, the ghost of a smile, the confidence dulled to shy, awkward fumbling. He tosses the rag into the little basket you point to, and he begins the process of getting dressed. You get up when he’s almost done, your thighs, and what’s between already sore and pick up your robe. He’s putting his neat little stack of ration cards on the table when you finish tying it up. 

“Thanks.” He pulls his boots on, opening your door before turning back to find you right on his heels. 

“Anytime.” You smile at him, hoping it won’t be a one-time thing. He moves to step outside but you pull him back, wrapping your arms around his neck and taking something for your own. He kisses you back when you press your mouth to his, it's softer, his tongue sweet when it tangles with yours and you smile into the kiss when he reaches down, and grabs your ass. 

“Bye, Pretty.”

“Bye Joel.”

-

You hadn't fallen into the work, so much as slowly slid into it. The first time had been almost a dare, a challenge to yourself, a proposition made by someone and maybe your own foolish, naive need to prove that you weren’t some stupid baby. A man, an older man that had shared cleaning duty with you had come right out with it, saw you bending over to pick something off the floor and told you that he’d pay every ration card he had for a taste of that ass, as he so eloquently put it. 

At first you’d been shocked, he seemed like a perfectly bland, run of the mill survivor making his way in the QZ, but he’d been serious. You’d asked him to clarify, to repeat his words, and he had. He’d shaken his hands of the dirt and dust of the job, produced a tiny stack of much needed ration cards from a hidden pocket and held them out for you like a cold glass of water in the desert. Something inside you had recoiled, he wasn’t repulsive, but he wasn’t exactly the object of your late night fantasies. Another part though, a hidden little sliver of something jumped at the chance to have some power, some semblance of control and so without much thought to consequence, you’d taken him up on it. 

An uncomfortable fifteen minutes later, he was grunting behind you, stroking himself furiously to paint the cheeks of your ass in his come. 

Once it was done, the little part of you that had welcomed the challenge was curiously absent, and the part that had recoiled was bigger, swelling like some awful, infected limb. But you had rations enough to stop working for a few days, and that took some of the repulsion away. 

It was a while before you did it again. It was a while before you saw the man again, maybe part of you, that ever-present bit of self-preservation urged you to avoid him but he eventually found you again. This time you turned him down, and he hadn’t pressed, but he’d told others. Other men who seemed to sniff you out, some of them older, and less diplomatic and those you told to fuck off. Some of the younger ones though, closer to your age looking for the experience, some of them you took in, with the strict promise to never tell anyone unless they wanted to never see you again. Those experiences were better, less traumatic. 

After that it seemed like things came together, you had a steady string of people who took you seriously and paid up front. 

The first woman had been a girl of around your age, she’d heard from a friend of a friend, carefully and strategically keeping the source to herself. You’d never really given it much thought but once you did it seemed only natural, women got lonely too, and there was nothing about her that you didn’t understand. So you accepted her, took her rations and gave her as much of yourself as you gave the men. 

It’d taken time to establish yourself, to find the regular people you let into the circle, it was all much easier now. With the exception of Joel, you hadn’t taken on someone new in a while, but he made you glad you did.

-

His hands always shake before it starts. 

It’s a light tremble, a couple of fingers in his left hand and you aren’t entirely sure if it’s an injury, or a sign of nerves. He’s hard of hearing in one ear too, his right. You hadn't picked up on it at first but once you do, it makes sense. He tilts his head to the right a tiny bit, turning his good ear towards your mouth. It doesn’t bother you. 

He was older than the rest, that did bother him, but never enough to stop visiting. He dragged it out sometimes, made himself wait, avoided you, but whether it took him a week or a month, he came back. 

“Hi Joel.” You smiled to see him standing at the threshold, fingers twitching by his side, his hair a mess, a small bundle in his grip.

“Hi.” He doesn’t smile back, he’d waited too long, the frown practically tattooed on. He puts the bundle down on the dresser after kicking off his boots, and doesn’t mention it. 

It’s dark outside, later than you usually let anyone come see you but for him you make exceptions. His hands keep rubbing at his thighs, his eyes darting around, you let him settle for a moment, get his bearings before jumping into anything, it’s a dance and you both have your steps. 

“How do you want me?” You finally break the silence once he sits on the quilt. He looks up at you, but doesn’t answer right away, his eyes fall to your cleavage, then down to your waist where the robe is cinched, then further still to your hips. You move closer, until you stand between his spread thighs. 

“Hm? Wanna fuck me on my back? Or should I get on my hands and knees?” You thread your fingers through his hair, slicking it back as best you can, he shudders at your words and at the feeling of your hands on him, putting up his usual show of shame at being here with you, at being older. “Should I get on my knees right here and suck your cock?” His hands land on your hips, his face pressing against your sternum, robe parting enough for him to press his lips to the valley between your breasts.

“You’re too fuckin’ soft, way too fuckin’ pretty to be lettin’ me touch you.” He always does this, has to make it known that you shouldn’t let him do this, that he shouldn’t want you like this. It never stops him, he opens the robe and pushes it off to fall on the floor regardless of his words and moans into the skin of your breast where he nuzzles like a cat.

“Prettiest thing I ever saw.” His mouth laves at one pert nipple, then the other, leaving them hard and shiny when he trails his kisses down to your belly. 

All day you’ve thought about him here, getting to have him to yourself, opening you up and molding you to fit him like a glove, making you see stars like he always does. And all day you’ve felt that slow simmer of arousal, that steady ache to bloom and gape for him, both soft and obscene. The constant excitement of anticipation. His mouth on your nipples only served to turn it up to an inferno, turning you to liquid for him. 

“But I like when you touch me.” You scratch at his scalp, pressing his face into your skin, “I like it when you fuck me, you make it so good, much better than anyone else.” You flatter him, but you don’t lie to him. You’ve learned to be impartial to your experiences, sex is work. As fun as it can be with some of them, it’s all a means to an end, you need to eat and so you do what you have to do. You are also realistic about him, he is not your boyfriend, he’s not your partner, he barely gives you a second glance on the street but in here, he’s your favourite. He fits you better than anyone and anything, and as much as you hate to admit it, you need him as much as he needs you.

He takes in the words, believes them and relishes them. 

“How do you want me, Joel?” You pull his face up, bending down to kiss him before he can answer and his desperation comes through. His tongue is insistent, his kiss almost violent. 

“I want you here-“ he pats the bed, before getting up to take his clothes off. You help him, both of you working efficiently until he’s as naked as you are. His cock is already hard, the tip of him pearly with his own want despite any and all notions of impropriety. 

His body always betrays him. 

He gets you on your back, but he doesn’t lay on top of you, rather beside you. He doesn’t let you turn to face him, he wants it like this, his body curling around yours to be able to see it spread out for him without himself in the way. 

“Open up for me, s’good, just like that.” He takes the thigh closest to him and drapes it over his hip, positioning himself to enter you from underneath. He lifts his head, showcasing his core strength to watch as he brings his cock to the open mouth of your cunt, sliding in without so much as a warning. You feel exposed, spread open and bare under his eye and it only heightens the experience, cracking something open inside of you. 

His hips push and pull slowly, lazily at first despite how fucking hard he is but doesn’t last. The sight in front of you there, breasts bouncing with every snap, is too much for him. With one hand free, he strums and plucks at your nipples, opening up the dam between your thighs to ruin the quilt underneath. 

His other hand isn’t idle though, it slips down, grabbing onto the plush of your ass, holding you in place hard enough to bruise. 

“That feel good?” He watches you leak all over him, and knows it does but he wants to hear it anyway. 

“Yes- Yes Joel–” You moan, turning to watch his face. 

“This little cunt goin' to come for me? I wanna see her come, I wanna feel her choke my dick.” He surges forward, swallowing the moan from the source before speeding up. His cock strokes, strokes, strokes and you feel the warmth blooming in your core, spreading like a wildfire through your hips, the release so close you can almost taste it, you whine and he shushes you, his voice soft despite how depraved you feel with his cock kissing something sacred inside of you. 

You roll your hips to meet his thrusts and sweat builds in your hairline and at the back of your neck, collects and slips where your skin and his meet.

“I know baby, I know, I can feel her, she wants to come doesn’t she?” His lips press against your cheek, his words warm against your skin. His lips are so soft, so plush as he pants into your face, goosebumps cover your body. You nod against him, mouth open in a silent scream when he adjusts his angle slightly. 

He’s no longer able to form complete sentences, his words are reduced to a repeated chant of yeah baby, yeah baby, right there, right there huh? Barely formed questions for the answer you know he already knows and then his fingers are in your mouth, stretching out your lips, holding your mouth open in a filthy, yet pale imitation of what his cock is doing.

You drool, and you don’t care but it’s what he wants, he takes it from your mouth and slides it over your clit and it’s like he’s pressed the nuclear codes in your body. 

You want to curl into yourself, but you can’t, his grip tightens, painfully, holding you to take and take and take his cock until he bursts inside you like a ripe berry. His groan is almost more obscene than the act, his groin pressed up against you tight, pressing himself deeper than ever to paint your cervix in his come. 

“Fuck–” He presses the word to your cheek, sliding his sweat soaked face down your neck, to your shoulder. He pulls out after a moment, and you feel him leak out of you. He moves to hover over you, pulling one nipple into his mouth to taste before the blood has cooled, and then the other. He isn;t done yet though, he kneels between your spread legs, inspecting the mess he’s made of your pussy, a self satisfied look on his face. 

“Gonna dream about this, while I’m gone.” He lifts your legs, pressing them up and open and slips two fingers deep inside to push his come back in and as you moan at the act, you cannot help but wonder where that worried, too-old Joel is right now. 

“Prettiest little cunt.” He says it to himself, rubbing his mess into the sensitive walls of your sex like a balm. 

He licks his fingers after, tasting the combined flavours of both of you. Your heart almost can’t take it. 

Once he’s dressed, and you have gained enough strength to get up and put your robe on he’s almost back to his shy self. 

“I have the rations here, but I brought somethin’ else.” He gestures to the little bundle he’d left on your dresser, “I found it, thought you might like it.” He opens it, and it’s a can of peaches. 

“Oh!” You’re genuinely taken aback. 

“You ain’t allergic right?” He frowns, and you smile, something soft spreading through your chest that has nothing to do with the sex you just had.

“No, I’m not allergic. Thank you Joel, I am really excited for this.” You ignore the soreness between your legs and close the gap between you, pressing a soft kiss to his lips in thanks. 

“Well alright then.” He frowns again, and it’s not shyness you see on his face now, it’s awkwardness, it’s a man who doesn’t know how to be soft, but is trying his hardest. 

“Bye Pretty.” He lingers at the door, devouring you with his eyes and even though he was still dripping out of you, you felt naked and exposed, open and spread out for his gaze. 

“Bye Joel, don’t wait too long to come see me again okay?” You press yourself against him, the soft lines of you tucked tight against the hard angles of him. He gifts you with a rare smile but doesn’t respond, save for a toe curling kiss at your threshold before he’s gone. 

Hours later, when your body is truly sore and spent, you lay in bed with a book, eating the peaches he brought, and wonder idly what he’ll bring next time. 

-

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[pigcowboys]

Hello!

Could you please write a Percy x Reader and The reader just randomly goes missing?

pairing: percy jackson x gn! reader

summary: the day you go missing, percy’s world seems to crumble.

warning(s): ANGST, depictions of depression maybe?, bad coping mechanisms, cursing, kisses

a/n: THIS REQUEST IS SO SADDD :(, I tried my best though!! i left the ending ambiguous cause im a sucker for happy endings 😁‼️

part 2

it was all kind of surreal to him.

yesterday was amazing. the moment he opened his eyes he was greeted with your seemingly blinding appearance at his cabin door, smiling at him widely as you said good morning to him, instantly knocking the heavy burden of waking up so early off his shoulders.

he felt light on his feet as he followed you to the mess hall to eat breakfast. breakfast that he barely even touched because he spent most of the time there trying to provoke a laugh out of you. he felt his heart when after his 7th or 8th horrible joke you gave him a unapproving look, stifling a smile as you continued to eat your breakfast.

he didn't appreciate that smile enough, he reckoned.

the day continued on with the two of you spending the day together. could you believe it? you took him to pick strawberries with you — said you wanted to make him something since his birthday was coming up soon. his heart practically lurched when you told him that.

how could someone be so sweet..?

he’d just pull you into an embrace, peppering kisses all over your face before skipping over to the fields with you in tow. hand in hand was how you two always walked — not that percy minded one bit at all.

you looked amazing picking strawberries, so focused and calculated as you observed each berry closely to see if they were ripe enough, or if a pesky insect had gotten to them before you did. percy just watched you in awe as he held the basket still for you.

you were very meticulous in the way you picked each berry. they all had to be perfect — nothing but the best for your boyfriend, that was what you said. he beamed at that mention of himself, biting back a dopey grin as the word ‘boyfriend’ reverberated in his mind.

later into the afternoon percy would be by your side as you washed and stored every strawberry in a red container. you’re so beautiful, he thinks. not that he’d ever tell you that.. he didn’t want you to laugh at him for being corny. he couldn’t help it, though.

you’re just so perfect.

“did i ever tell you I love you?”

“rats!” you snapped your fingers, a smile curling on your face. “i totally forgot to remind you to say it today.” you joked, not breaking eye contact with the strawberries as you plucked another stem off.

“ha-ha,” percy said unamused. “you’re so mean to me, would you prefer to have a boyfriend who never appreciates you?”

you placed the last strawberry down, turning to percy with a smile. “thank you, percy, i love you too.” you replied, batting your eyelashes at him.

percy frowned, his heart rate increasing as he huffed out in frustration. “your heart’s not in it.”

“my heart’s totally in it.”

“mm, i find that hard to believe.”

“what, you want me to prove that I mean it?”

percy shrugged. “well, i mean if you’re not down..”

you shot him a look, leaning forward to press a kiss to his forehead. “there, i love you, i mean it.”

“do you?” percy raised an eyebrow at you. “my mom kisses my forehead.”

“and your boo-boos?”

“I’m leaving.” percy said, attempting to get up as you fumbled to pull him back down into his seat next to you with a laugh.

“ok! sorry! i’m sorry.”

percy gave you an unamused look, heart stilling as you leaned in once more, pressing a chaste kiss to his lips as you pulled him into a gentle hug. he recognized the perfume you were wearing, something he’d bought for you on your 2nd date.

you insisted against him spending his money but, it didn’t stop him. since then you’ve worn it every single day. the sweet smelling aroma was almost burned into his brain chemistry.

he nuzzled himself into your torso, exhaling in satisfaction as the two of you sat there holding each other. and for a moment and none less, percy forgot about all his problems in the world, you always seemed to make him relax so easily.

he missed being relaxed.

percy was waken to the sound of panicked knocking on his door.

he stumbled to his feet reluctantly, groggily making his way over to the door of cabin 3. why were you making so much noise this early? you never knocked so loudly.

“y’know i prefer when you knock —” percy stopped his sentence midway. it wasn’t you on his door at all, it was annabeth. a rather.. panicked annabeth. her grey eyes were blown wide and she seemed slightly alarmed.

“annabeth, what’s wrong?” percy asked, slowly but surely regaining his consciousness.

“percy..” annabeth started, a slightly solemn tone in her voice. “we have to..talk.”

the next few minutes of that conversation with annabeth went over his head as he struck with shock and denial.

just like that, after only a few weeks — weeks that he had spent by your side almost every moment as you two counted down to his inevitable birthday.

you were just..gone.

nobody understood anything about where you’d made off to, not a trace of your clothing or even your scent. it was like you were wiped off the face of the earth and the only people who knew of your existence was everyone at camp half blood.

“you’re..you guys are going to find..” percy trailed off “you have to find them.”

annabeth gave Percy a sympathetic look. “look, percy — i don’t know if mr. D will—”

“who cares what he thinks? you have to find them, they’re just as important as anyone at this camp!” he looked away. “more, even.”

“we don’t even have a clue where they are,” annabeth rationalized. “and if Mr.D is going to handle this the same way he did when I was in this situation..” she locked eyes with percy

“then, there might be no hope.”

percy’s heart pinged when she said that, a frown tugging at his face as he brought a hand to run through his hair. annabeth just stared at him silently, pulling him into a tight embrace when his shoulders started to falter, shaking slightly as tears brimmed the corners of his eyes.

the rest of week was kind of a blur to him.

fuck, he missed you so much. and the startling fact that he wasn’t sure if the feeling was ever going to go away scared him more than anything. you were right there with him yesterday — laughing and smiling at him with.

was that really the last time he was every going to get to see you?

no — he shouldn’t of even thought about that. you’re not dead, just missing. right? you have to be. he couldn’t sleep, couldn’t even get a wink of sleep all the days you were away. how the hell could anyone sleep with their own peer — strangely going missing.

he threw himself into training, wasn’t even sure why. he just..needed a distraction — at-least until he could go out and try to track you down. and when he did find you and bring you, he’d be strong enough to protect you.

it seemed like everything reminded you of him. that stupid strawberry field, your cabin which was now slightly less colorful without you around and most of all, anything vaguely sweet scent. if you closed his eyes and focused slightly he could smell the faint smell of that same godforsaken perfume you’d worn to its limits.

god, he wished he could smell that scent again.

he woken up from a nightmare — a strange one, of you. the standard dream of him seeing your silhouette in the distance and him running towards it time after time again without any fail like he always did before breaking through the ground and waking up.

yet, this time, you spoke to him.

your voice, it but a mere fleeting whisper in his ear as the dream continued, spouting things about the place you were in and how you were scared. percy could barely make out you what you were saying but all he could register was the clear sound of your voice saying “i love you”.

he was completely still in his bed as he clutched his heart, blinking away tears that he hadn’t know had formed in his eyes and he tried to control his breathing, recalling the nightmare — or maybe dream, was more like it, that he’d just had.

he looked towards the door of cabin 3, bottom lip trembling slightly.

you were alive.

[targaryenrealnessdarling]

Veni, Vidi, Vici | Michael Gavey x fem!reader

Summary: Things finally come to a head following the last of Michael's exams | Word Count: 3.2k~ | Warnings: p in v sex, virginity loss, somewhat tipsy sex

Part One : Quid Pro Quo Part Two : Carpe Diem

A:N: let's just ignore the fact this has been in my drafts since December 😘 And yes, I didn't come the first time either, it happens okkkk. Sorry if this is all over the place, I wrote half of it like four months ago and the other half last week soo

Every single time she saw his username pop up on her computer, an involuntary smile spread across her face, and warmth pooled in her belly with the memory of that evening still fresh in her mind. She isn’t quite sure what she enjoys remembering more, his flushed cheeks and glasses askew or the way he was trying to adjust his cargo trousers to somewhat hide his erection by the end of their second tryst.

After that short interaction though, she was surprised at his restraint, if not a bit impressed. She’d at least managed to avoid the irresistible pull of his company in time to finish the last of her exams. And as for Michael, were it not for the odd text message or the ‘active’ icon next to his username in MSN, she would have thought he dropped off the face of the planet.

Part of her can imagine him now, bent over his desk, twirling a pencil between his fingers, mind working like freshly-oiled cogs and pushing his glasses up his nose. Completely concentrated. And yet, he was still on his computer, with the application open, as if to test his own restraint.

And to be fair to him, he never cracked, not once. For the entire time since their last meeting and now, he never messaged.

With her own exams out of her way, she spent most of her time with Priya (albeit at the pub, with glasses of wine emptied as well as the details of every meeting she’d had with Michael Gavey).

“Oh my god, as if you are into nerdy little white boys!” she laughed with a cigarette perched between her two fingers and proclaimed far too loudly so that the entire pub heard.

“Shut u-” she retorted with a slap to her arm, “besides, not so little, if you know what I mean.”

“It’s like I hardly know you. I love it.”

“Stop it,” she retorts, sitting back in her chair with a flush to her face, “he's genuinely nice.”

“That's not what I heard,” Priya snorts, “I hear he had a hissy fit on like the first day ‘cos someone wouldn't ask him a sum.”

“He's very passionate.”

“Hm,” she widened her eyes, “let’s hope it translates.”

She presses her lips together to keep herself from smiling. Watching Priya’s mind tick will never get old.

“Oh my fucking god, is he a v-”

“Yes, Priya!”

She gasps in mock surprise, “you absolute gremlin. So you've not…?”

“Not yet,” she replies with a shake of her head, “told him we could after he's done his exams.”

“And you're making him wait for it? I had no idea you were so cruel.”

She shrugs, biting back a smile as her eyes drop to the table. Excitement bubbling in her belly.

Priya leans in, her voice lowered to a conspiratorial whisper, "So, spill it then. What's the plan for the big night?"

She chuckles nervously, swirling the remnants of her wine in her glass. "I don't know, Priya. I've never been in this position before. It's like uncharted territory."

Priya's eyes widen with exaggerated shock. “My queen of confidence, feeling nervous? This I have to see."

She rolls her eyes, but there's a playful glint in them. "Oh, shut up. It's different when it's someone you actually like."

Priya nods understandingly, but then her expression turns mischievous. "Well, just remember to relax and enjoy yourself. And if all else fails, there's always wine."

She laughs, shaking her head. "Thanks, Priya. I appreciate the pep talk."

Priya grins, raising her glass. "To new adventures and nerdy white boys!"

As they continue chatting, her phone buzzes with a new message. She glances down at the screen, a faint blush creeping onto her cheeks. Priya notices her reaction and nudges her playfully. "Ooh, speak of the devil?"

She nods, trying to suppress her smile as she reads the message. "Yeah, he's just about to go in for his exam." 

Priya winks suggestively. "Maybe he's hoping for a sneak preview of what's to come? You know, for luck.”

“Ha ha,” she rolls her eyes, typing off a quick reply of good luck, “remind me to never tell you personal shit ever again.”

“Mate, it's the suit. You're gonna see him in it and jump his di-”

“Priya!”

“What?!”

She should have known better really that wine tends to have this loosening effect on Priya. And she'd barely finished her own glass before it was time to hop off and meet Michael after his very last exam. It was the perfect day for it, with the sun blaring, everyone was in a good mood, with an electrifying and exciting atmosphere light in the breeze.

As she waited with the other groups of friends waiting to cheer on the examinees, she felt that pleasant roll of nerves in her stomach, biting her lip to contain her smile.

She thought that with some level of embarrassment, she was really really falling for this guy. Or this ‘nerdy, white boy’ as Priya so eloquently put it.

Her cheeks hurt from smiling when she saw his lanky, suit clad form saunter out of the exam hall. Her chest ached pleasantly when he hopefully scanned the crowd, watching others join their friends in celebration. And for a moment, she thought she detected the slightest hint of fomo.

But nothing compared to when he finally spotted her.

Though Michael tried to hide it, a thin lipped smile spread across his face, fiddling with the cap he held in his palms, looking down as if to hide his expression.

Her hands found the front of his suit, affectionately running over the material, “Hey. You look nice.”

He nearly rolled his eyes, “can't wait to get out of it. Too hot for this.”

The excited squealing and shouting stole both of their attention for a moment, particularly Michael's. He glanced sideways at the Felix Catton, with his newest toy, smiling and laughing without a care in the world.

She furrowed her brows, patting his chest, “who's that?”

Michael blinked behind his glasses, throat bobbing as he remained quiet for a moment, “No-one. Come on, let's go.”

As they settled by the tranquil riverbank, the gentle murmur of the water providing a soothing backdrop, they both relaxed into the moment. The weight of the exam stress began to lift, replaced by the lightness of shared laughter and companionship.

Sitting side by side, their feet dangling over the edge, they clinked their bottles together in a silent toast before taking refreshing sips. The sun cast a warm glow over them, painting the scene with hues of gold and amber.

Leaning back on their hands, they watched as birds soared overhead, their graceful movements adding to the serenity of the afternoon. Occasionally, a playful breeze would ruffle their hair, prompting soft chuckles and playful swats.

“So, have you decided yet?” 

She glanced at him over her shoulder, “what?”

He fiddled with his tie that he'd long taken off in somewhat of a nervous gesture, “it’s been 142 minutes.”

She furrowed her brows, trying not to look amused, “since what?”

He chuckled, trying to hide his nerves. “You said you'd consider being my girlfriend after exams.”

Her smile widened, a fondness evident in her gaze. “Oh, that? Well, I guess it's been 142 minutes too long then, hasn't it?”

She could see the way he was trying not to look too relieved. “Really?”

“Really,” she confirmed, leaning in to press a tender kiss to his lips. “But only if you promise to stop counting the minutes.”

He cocked his head, a breathy laugh falling from between his lips, a faint flush rising to his cheeks at the brief moment of contact. “No can do.”

She hummed a laugh, the lightness of the situation making her stomach flip, “Are the Carol Vorderman posters non-negotiable too?”

He threw his head up to the sky, “Fucking christ, I don’t have-”

“I know! I know!”

Had Michael seen himself months ago, he wouldn’t have imagined it, walking back to his dorm with a half-empty stomach and the alcohol to replace it with a tipsy waddle, and a girl’s hand closed in his, swinging at their sides.

Whereas campus was usually rife with busy students, toing and froing between the library, lectures and their dorms, today was calm, clear. And it felt as if for once, Michael could loosen the reins on the anticipation that had been building in preparation for his exams, and relax into the soothing company she offered. 

She laughed as he tripped over the threshold to his room, the tiniest drop of fruity cider still at the bottom of her bottle. Michael flushed and immediately went to unbutton his shirt, looking somewhat apprehensive.

“Leave it on, if you want,” she smiled coyly, watching the way a blush crept up his neck, his wide blue eyes beneath the frames of his glasses all shy with anticipation.

“...you sure?”

She nodded immediately, trying to calm his nerves. Though she could hardly blame him, she'd felt the same flutters in her belly when it was her first time. She was sure he was no different.

“Course, looks good on you anyway,” she mused, her fingers gently swatting his hand away playfully to undo only the top few buttons. Michael shivered at her touch there, sending waves of pleasurable nerves through his body.

They stood there for a moment, taking each other in, and as she set her bottle down on the desk, she couldn't help but lean in to press one, two, tipsy kisses to his neck. If she could see his face, his eyes had long since slipped shut, lips parted as if not knowing what on earth to say.

“I've…never done this before.”

“It's okay,” she whispered, breath hot on his skin, “I'll look after you.”

The cheeky smile she gave him made his heart almost stop dead in his chest. But his confession, and her calm receiving of it, seemed to bridge the gap between them, and when she turned her head to look at him, he captured the surprised gasp between his lips, and worked up the courage he'd built the last two trysts of intimacy into this one tender moment.

It was gentle at first, hesitant. But as their mutual desire overcame their initial shyness, it deepened in no time.

Her hands found their way to the back of his neck, careful fingers threading up over his nap to the sandy, blonde hair that had formed a subtle wave from the humidity. His own hands settled on her waist, pulling their bodies flush. And the softness of her lips and the anticipation of his hands drifting lower to the hem of her dress, had his stomach doing backflips.

They moved to the bed by sheer instinct, their kisses growing more urgent as she gently pushed him down and straddled his lap, all while his hands roamed her back, waist and lower towards her thighs, exploring the contours and curves of her body above him.

She pulled back slightly, her own face flushed from heat, feeling his hardness already between her legs where she was placed on top of him, “trust me, okay?”

Michael nodded, the bob of his throat betraying how nervous he was, “I do...”

She smiled, her own confidence calming his nerves, and guided his hands to the straps of her dress, showing without words that there was nothing beneath it. Michael himself let out a strained whimper when her hand crept up his thigh, and massaged his erection through his suit trousers, squeezing up his shaft to the sensitive tip.

“We can do it like this, if you prefer..” she whispered, wanting to do things the way he wanted for his first time.

He nodded, looking up at her with an expression that said everything, relief, “yeah, please..”

Her hands were tender and slow, undoing the heavy buckle of his belt and popping the button, each movement making the air feel hot in his chest. And emboldened by their intimacy, his own hands slid up her thighs, rolling the hem of her dress up to her hips, sighing against her lips and smirking when she whined at his grip.

“Fuck-” 

It was her turn to grin when she finally wrapped her hand around him, pulling him from the confines of his boxers and teasing him with her touch. His eyes dared to look between them, at her slender fingers around his cock, drawing both delicious pleasure and sending sparks up his spine. 

Her hips lowered, to grind herself on his length, and Michael nearly lost it there and then, even thinking about being inside her. To be honest, it was part of the reason he wanted to stay clothed, because he'd finish too quickly if he saw her completely naked.

“You okay?” She asked with a pleased smile, knowing her answer without needing an answer.

“Y-yeah…do I need…”

“It's up to you,” she reassured, “I'm clean, and I'm on the pill so…”

He nodded, secretly a little mortified at the idea of having his first time without protection on his part. It had always been drilled into him that, in truth, he was a little apprehensive, but the knowledge that she was careful, made him feel better about it.

“Do you want me like this?” She asked quietly, her lips at his jaw, pressing tiny gentle kisses, “me on top.”

“Yeah, yeah…”, Michael nodded quickly, his hands tightening at her hips. In truth he just wanted to do it, too wound tight and excited to care about the position.

She shuffled closer, trailing her lips down his neck as she pulled her underwear to one side. Truthfully the alcohol, as little as it was, had made her a bit needy for him the second he walked out of the exam hall. And being his first time, it was probably just as well he didn't feel the need to prepare her, assuming it'd be overwhelming for him.

Slowly she lowered herself onto him, the initial stretch stealing the air from her lungs for a moment. She could feel his breath come in ragged gasps. His grip tighten. And as soon as she felt him tense, she stopped and let him decide when he wanted to continue.

She was so warm and tight around him, Michael couldn't help at first but think it was uncomfortable. But once he took a breath, he could feel her silky walls envelop him, closing in with a desperate hold. It was hard to stay still. And that initial discomfort ebbed into relaxation.

She was about to ask if he was okay, but she let out a strained moan, as his hands pushed her hips down to meet his as he pushed up, pulling her on top of him so that she was flush to his body.

Her hands held him tight, he felt utterly different inside her than she had imagined. The stretch of him was a pleasurable pain at first, but once she'd relaxed and adjusted around him, after months of no sex, she felt herself grind on him slightly.

“Jesus fucking Christ-”

She smiled at that, leaning up to face him, “you okay?..”

“God, yeah, very okay-” he manages.

“Do you want me to-”

“Can I…” he asks, “please.”

“Y-yeah-” 

His hand slipped behind her neck, tugging her lips down to his, while the other slid down her back, pushing her down on him to meet him halfway with every tentative thrust into her. From this position, with her chest nearly flush to his, her breasts rippling over the top of her dress rhythmically, she could feel him deeper. And the sensation had her unable to form any coherent thought.

She knew he wouldn't last long. Judging by the way he was moaning lowly against her lips and how his hips stuttered as they moved.

She also didn't expect any kind of orgasm from the experience, fully wanting it to just be comfortable for Michael and nothing else. But when he pulls her down, his hands snaking around her waist tightly, and the cooling sensation on his glasses against her shoulder as he buries his head there, she finds that, whether he intended to or not, he brushes against her sweet spot.

Michael groans as she tightens around him slightly, each push inside of her fuels the numb, simmering sparks of an orgasm, slowly building, and she is powerless to stop it.

“Fffuck-”

And yet she can feel him losing momentum. He's worn himself out too early she can tell. So pushing herself off his chest, she sits up on top of him and does the work herself. Her thighs burn and she feels a bit self conscious being in full view like this, but it feels too good for her to care. She grinds her hips down on his length, looking down at Michael and watching his appreciative expression, his glasses skewed slightly.

His jaw goes slack at the renewed pace, and his hands remain on her waist as he throws his head back, brows furrowed, the tell tale sign he's nearly there. So concentrated on moving on top of him, she knows she won't come, but it still feels nice nonetheless.

And as she pushes her hips backwards and forwards on him, nudging her sweet spot more forcefully, she cries out, causing Michael to look down between them and watch the way he disappears inside of her, moist bodies slapping together.

“Oh fuck, fuck, I'm-”

Michael would be ashamed to say how much he's touched himself to the thought of that first night with her, when she knelt between his legs in the common room. Of course, it felt good. But finishing inside her, with her smooth, velvety walls sucking him in, fluttering around him, feels so entirely different. It's like being on another planet.

His hips give a few final mini thrusts up into her, before he stills, riding out his high and letting himself descend from heaven. He is only brought back, when she leans down to kiss his neck, trailing up to his jaw.

“You okay?...” She asks, her voice ragged and quiet.

Michael swallows through breaths he sucks in, “yeah…” he answers simply, glancing up at her and smiling through foggy lenses. “You?”

She laughs breathily, her fingers drawing patterns on his chest, “More than okay.”

“Even though you didn't…?”

“Don't worry about me. Tonight was for you,” she smiles, sliding off him to his side, and pulling her dress down slightly. “You did great, you know.”

He chuckles, tucking himself away, slinging an arm around her, “guess all that practice watching Countdown paid off.”

She snorts a laugh at that, the atmosphere lifting, “yeah, remind me to send Carol Vordermann an official thank you.”

Michael grins, feeling more relaxed now. "You think she'd respond? Maybe send me an autograph for my wall?"

She laughs, nudging him playfully. "Oh, I'm sure she'd be thrilled to know she had such a positive impact on your life.” she smiles at him, tucking herself beneath the covers, “anyway stop talking about other women around me, I get jealous.”

“Sor-ry,” he smirks. Michael's grin widens as he pretends to ponder deeply. "Well, as long as you're teaching, maybe you could help me with all the different positions... in grammar, of course."

She laughs, her eyes twinkling with amusement as he rolls on top of her, her legs parting instinctually. "Oh, absolutely, but I must warn you, I'm very thorough."

Michael replies, voice low and warm, his hand stealing between them both to slide his fingers between her thighs. “Good thing I'm a quick learner then.”

General Taglist: @aemondsfavouritebastard @bellstwd @blackswxnn @blairfox04 @buckybarnesb-tch

@castellomargot @emmaisafictionwhore @hb8301 @jamespotterismydaddy @justbelljust

@minholy223 @mochi-rose @natty2017 @nenelysian @primonizzutto

@qyburnsghost @randomdragonfires @risefallrise @thelittleswanao3 @theoneeyedprince

[mingtinys]

" i'm not stopping until you smile "

pairing : lee seokmin x gn!reader

"13 ways to say "i love you" with seventeen"

warnings : none

word count : 0.6 k

a/n :still not sure how i feel about the ending on this one

Sometimes it feels like the universe is actively out to get you. Like for some reason, whatever Gods above have chosen you as the perfect target for their cruel jokes as a cure for their boredom.

Everything that could have possibly gone wrong, had.

Your coffee spilled first thing in the morning, scorching your skin and ruining your uniform. The back left tire of your car was flat, forcing you to take the morning train. Which you missed due to your coffee incident. Work was hectic, your boss on your ass about anything and everything, and for some reason, every customer came in with a personal vendetta against you and you alone. And to top it all off, some creep wouldn't stop making comments at you on the train back home.

You're so desperate to just curl up in bed and hide from the world that you forgo the thought of dinner or cleaning like you had planned all together.

For what feels like hours, you lay there. Until the sun falls in the sky and your room fades into darkness. Unwilling to move even an inch to flip a light on or check your phone. Your apartment stays dead silent. Eventually, you hear the front door open and shut, followed by the sound of footsteps approaching closer. They pause just outside your bedroom door.

"Baby, are you in there?" Comes a voice, one so soft you nearly burst into tears from the sound of it alone. "I'm coming in, okay?"

The knob turns and in comes Seokmin, illuminated by a halo of light that pours in from the hallway. He takes one look at you and frowns. "Are you okay?" He asks, setting your spare key and his phone on your dresser before sitting on the edge of your bed.

"I got really worried when you weren't answering after work," he continues. "What happened?"

"It's fine, Seok," you sigh, already feeling like a burden on him. "But it's been a long day and I just really want to handle it alone, okay? I'm sorry you came all the way here."

He just stares at you, sad eyes searching your face for some type of answer. You feel like you've just kicked a puppy asking him to leave, but it's best this way. Seokmin's heart is far too soft, ready to soak up every ounce of negative emotion it can for him to bear the weight of. And you hate seeing Seokmin sad.

"You don't have to handle it alone though, that's what I'm here for." You really wish you could return his cheery optimism and put him at ease, but instead, you simply turn in your cocoon so you won't have to face his disappointed expression. Yet somehow, that doesn't deter him.

Whereas anyone else probably would've up and left by now, Seokmin simply scoops you up into his arms, blankets and all. He starts pressing wet, sloppy kisses all over your face before you can voice a single protest. Even when you attempt to hide from the barrage of affection in his chest he doesn't let up.

"Seokmin!" You whine, palms coming up to shield your face. He just laughs and easily pulls your wrists away, looping them behind his neck before pressing two more pecks to each cheek. Seokmin leans back to examine your face.

"I'm not stopping until you smile."

"I appreciate you trying but–"

Yet another merciless attack befalls your face, this time with exaggerated mwuahs for good measure. Though every few kisses, Seokmin mutters small, sincere 'I love yous' that begin to chip away at the walls you'd so desperately tried to construct.

So when your boyfriend finally pulls back for a second time he begins to beam with pride at the lopsided smile ghosting your lips. "There it is," he coos, softly lifting your chin with his thumb. "Now tell me, what almost stole my favorite sight in this world from me?"

taglist: @matchahyuck @dontwannaexsist @minnieminshi @myfavoritedelusion @tanya596carat

[hoshinasblade]

second best |2| hoshina soshiro

PART 1 | PART 2 | BONUS: PART THREE

pairing: hoshina soshiro x f!reader genre: slight angst, comfort, childhood friends to lovers, a bit of that miscommunication trope snippet: hoshina soshiro always ranks second at everything in his life. god forbid he falls behind in the bid for your heart too. word count: 2.5K trigger warnings: author's note: hello, reposting the part 2 because of hiccups from saturday when i posted it first (tumblr blocked my blog lol). likes, reblogs, and replies are always appreciated but please do not copy or steal my works. in celebration of this blog reaching 100 followers recently, i have written a bonus part 3 which will be posted within this week. my taglist form is here, and feel free to let me know your thoughts by sending me an ask through here. using my degree correctly by writing hoshina fanfics yes

you aren't sure when things changed between you and hoshina soshiro.

when you were young, you would have understood that he didn't have the attention span to deal with you. he wasn't exactly shy, but you wouldn't call him friendly too - unlike you, who has taken it upon herself to be friends with all the children in the small neighbourhood. unfortunately for you, only the hoshina brothers are at the same age as you are, and at that time you thought that was a sign that fate was giving - you ought to be close to them.

you won't deny that you were fonder of the hoshina brothers than anyone when you started school. if you are being honest, you like them more than any of your expensive dolls or toys. being an only child, you thought it was only natural to want someone to be with - to want someone to share things with.

the brothers would have their endless training sessions every day, and though you did not know how to swing a sword then, you insisted to your parents - and theirs - that you must join them. sometimes you would be sitting on the floor just watching them, and frequently you would be the one keeping count of the score between soshiro and soichiro when they spar.

soshiro has never won a single match against his brother when they were kids.

but you didn't mind. you still preferred him over soichiro.

in fifth grade, you bought him the biggest cake your meagre savings could buy. it wasn't much really, but you won't forget how wide his eyes went when you lighted the candles and sang him the happy birthday song albeit out of tune. the next year, you gifted him a small keychain - a teddy bear in a purple kimono. you never saw him use it.

it wasn't until years after that you worked out what your feelings for him were. the girls from your class would make small talk and ask if you have a boyfriend now and then. you would say no all the time. at sixteen, you felt like you didn't need to be in a relationship - because you have soshiro, you said to yourself - and that was when it hit you.

every time soshiro would talk to you after that, you would peek in your little compact mirror, worried he had miraculously discovered your secret, afraid that maybe your face had given it away. he caught you doing that once, and he accused you of attempting to be pretty for him.

"is it me ye're trying to be cute for?" he volunteered to carry your bag on your way home but you declined. you didn't want to start assuming things; you knew he was just being nice.

"ya wish," you deflected effectively.

"well, whoever it is for, they're in for some trouble", he commented, and you chose not to read too much in his words. you realized how the walk to your house always seemed to be shorter when you were with soshiro.

when you turned eighteen, you asked your mom what it meant to be in love. she was the last person you had wanted to ask - your parents had broken their perfect marriage not long ago, your father choosing to abandon your mother and you. soshiro taught you the basics of kendo during those hard months. "i'll even let ya beat me", he said to you.

"it's when you care for them so much that you will go as far as to let them go because you wanted them to be happy," your mother answered.

soshiro did not have the decency to say goodbye when he left himeji. you wanted to celebrate with him, and it wasn't like you weren't familiar with his plans to move after graduation. you used to stay up late with him, and inevitably the conversation would steer to his dream of getting out of your town. he would say that it's to expand his horizons - for his growth - but you like to give yourself some credit because you know him too well to simply believe that. you can tell that he needs a place to stretch his wings and be the best - somewhere he can be better than his brother.

and maybe you are really your mother's daughter - you let hoshina soshiro go because you thought it would make him happy.

"vice-captain, platoon leader said ye're needed at operations." you saluted and walked inside his office. "get yer ass in there, were the exact words actually," you added, intending it to be a joke.

soshiro didn't even look up from the file he had been staring at since you came in. he's been like this for days after you were sworn in the defense force. you would bump into him in the hallways of the training building or sit at the same table with him for lunch, and he wouldn't speak to you at all. if you didn't know better, you would think that finally, after all these years, he is now aware of your feelings. but that would be impossible, because not only the other recruits would not dare to rat you out, but also because soshiro would not be acting this way if he knew.

"v-vice captain?" you repeated.

soshiro hummed. "i heard ya the first time, officer," he said, his glance on you so cold you felt it from where you stood. it wiped off the smile you were wearing that morning.

"ya can go," he said once more after he noticed you didn't move. "or d'ya need anything else from me?"

"no, vice-captain." you were almost out of the door when you remembered something else. "one more thing, hoshina-san," you faced him again, the way you said his last name soft against your own lips. "soichiro-kun will be visiting again tomorrow so we can go to himeji together -"

"do ya belong to the sixth division?" soshiro cut you off. "i didn't know ya transferred."

"i - i'm not -" you were still trying to look for the appropriate response when he interrupted you again.

"then why are ya spending so much time with him? d'ya wanna move to his jurisdiction?" soshiro is standing now, whatever he was reading earlier long forgotten.

it was difficult to reconcile this distant man in front of you with the boy you used to chase after during your childhood days. the one who would bring you an extra boxed lunch because you told him before that his bento tastes so much better than yours. the boy you fell in love with. you had both grown up, and taken different paths at a time, yes, but you did not expect to struggle so badly to find common ground with him. "im sorry, vice-captain, i'll be off now." it felt like a huge chasm had opened in the middle of the room that determined to keep the two of you worlds apart. you turned to leave, and you heard him mutter something.

"if ya wanted to keep going on dates with my brother, ya shouldn't have gone here."

there is only one thing sharper than his katana and it is hoshina soshiro's mouth.

pain swirled inside you, threatening to spill over. when you couldn’t keep the turmoil in any longer, you snapped.

"what is yer problem?!" your pitch reached a high octave that soshiro was shocked at the outburst. "did i do anything? cause yer being mean, soshiro," you pressed on, stepping closer to him. it didn't escape him how you dropped the title off his name, and the honorifics, too. he was about to respond, but you didn't give him the chance. "look, i know yer not on good terms with soichiro-kun, but he’s my friend."

"like i needed to be reminded." sarcasm coated his retort. "ya know what? ya can marry the guy and i won't even care. do whatever ya want", he said, dismissing you in a harsher tone

your forehead scrunched and your eyebrows met in confusion. "what are ya talkin' about? no one is getting married -"

soshiro's laugh was bitter. you recoiled at the offensive sound. "i'm not the one going around telling everyone she's in love with soichiro-kun.”

there was a loud ringing in your ears; you couldn’t believe what you were hearing, and you were suddenly afraid that this conversation is unfolding into something else entirely. “i never said that,” you protested. “i never told anyone i was in love with him. i don’t know where you’re getting this from.”

soshiro’s expression remained stoic and unreadable. “i heard you say it at the izakaya”, he murmured.

breath was knocked out of your lungs and panic started to rise within you. “i never told anyone i was in love with him”, you repeated. you tried to rewind every second of what happened in the party thrown for the new officers nearly a month ago. everyone was drinking and having a good time after the sworn-in ceremony. commander ashiro and the vice-captain had to leave ahead. your fellow newbies grilling you on your history with hoshina soshiro.

“save it.” hurt was evident in soshiro’s voice; his eyes glimpsed at you briefly, and you saw an emotion you couldn’t quite decipher flicker. soshiro’s expressionless mask faltered for a moment, revealing a glimpse of vulnerability. although you don’t have a clue how he would have heard it when he went with commander ashiro that night, the desire to straighten things out overtook you.

for a split second, the burden of the truth hangs heavily on your tongue. you gave in to the desperation.

“i never told anyone i was in love with him”, you reiterated, hoping he would understand this time. “because it’s you i’m in love with.”

there were multiple occasions in the past where you almost admitted what he meant to you; you had pictured a thousand scenarios in your head where you declared your love, but all of them did not include the part where soshiro would respond.

you thought confessing would ease the ache in your heart, but it was the opposite. "i didn't know how to tell ya, and that's my fault. but how could i? ya didn't even bother to say goodbye to me when ya left home." it was taking everything of you to hold your tears back, and ignoring the obvious tremble in your voice, you continued. "did ya know i taught myself how to pray after ya were gone? i thought it was the only thing i could do for ya."

"i didn't know", was all soshiro could say. he looks in distress, still grappling with your bold confession.

a loud knock on the door broke the tension. “vice-captain, they made me fetch you,” okonogi said from the hall.

“well, now ya do.” you turned away just when soshiro strode towards your direction, running after you. you were faster than him, and despite the possibility that you would be seen coming from the vice-captain’s office crying, you twisted the doorknob and ran.

it is still hot when you sit down on a bench at the rooftop of the third division's training building.  you welcomed the cool breeze, however, and you noted that at this altitude, everything from far away looks considerably smaller.

you missed two important briefings this afternoon already, and your team is most certainly searching frantically for you everywhere. you are definitely going to be scolded by your superior. yet you couldn’t bring yourself to discard the little comfort being alone had given to you, especially after such an emotional confrontation. you sighed, exhaustion slowly crawling all over you. lost in your thoughts, you did not notice the soft footsteps approaching until a familiar voice tore through the silence. the cold breeze blew, making you shiver a bit.

“hey,” soshiro called out. you freaked out, immediately looking for a space to hide at. “i already saw ya,” he let you know.

he held out a keychain in front of your face, a tiny bear in a faded purple kimono with the string attached to its head dangling from his forefinger. you recognized it instantly - you got it for him when he turned 12 years old. he sat beside you, not concerning himself with asking for your permission.

“the first few days were the hardest”, he began, and you listened. “i was too used to seeing ya every day, but when we were apart, i convinced myself i would forget how ya look like. i didn’t.” he offered the keychain to you and you took it - the bear’s fur worn out and old to your touch. “i hold that thing whenever i start to miss ya.”

shock was etched on your face and your gaze darted to him. “is it too late now to say that i love ya?” he whispered, his face mirroring the sincerity of his tone. sunlight bathed the rooftop as soshiro’s words hung in the air, leaving you breathless and stunned. you gasped. “maybe i should have told ya sooner. but i have been in love with ya for a while now.”

you leaned into his shoulder, and you quietly cried.

“i don’t think i have been anybody’s first choice in anything, so it didn’t enter my mind that ya would probably feel the same.” his hand found yours and you relished on the warmth.

“your brother advised that i tell ya, ya know?” you said between sniffles.

he chuckled. “he didn’t do an excellent job at that, did he now?”

silence ensued; his thumb tracing patterns on the back of your hand, your head on his shoulder still - your breathing still a mess from everything that has been said. “i’m sorry i hurt ya. let me spend my whole life making it up to ya,” he proposed. the promise made your heart skip a beat.

for the first time in a long time, you gave him a smile - the one you have reserved just for him, the one you made sure to convey everything you wanted to tell him. there are a lot of other things you feel the need to ask him, but this will suffice for now. this is more than you ever had in your whole life.

“i can’t believe we wasted so much time dancing around our feelings. that one time i wanted to hit one of our classmates because he was being pushy with ya, d’ya remember that?” he reminisced. “anyone can have everything in the world, and the only time i would crack is if it is ya being taken away from me.”

all your dreams pale in comparison to your reality now.

out of the blue, you heard soshiro giggle. “does this mean ya were telling the newbies that night that it was me ye’re into?” he stared at you, and you can’t help but see him as the little boy you grew up with. this is the man i love, you said to yourself. you squeezed his hand.

you didn’t respond. all you know is the color of your cheeks surely rivals the pink of the skies as the both of you watch the sun sets.

[wlwfanfictionss]

Relax, and let go

Alicent Hightower x Female! Reader

Summary: When the duties of the realm take their toll on her, her sworn sword takes care of their Queen.

or: the one where reader fucks Alicent in a bathtub :)

Word count: ~3K

Warnings: Soft smut (Alicent deserves some love), top!reader obv, yearning hehe MDNI!!!!!

a/n: Im back! sort of lol. Trying to get back into writing, and what better way to get back into it then with a little Alicent content right before season two?? Hope you all enjoy, and let me know if you all would like to see more Alicent content. Anywayssss....#teamgreen

✷✷✷✷✷✷✷✷✷✷✷✷✷✷✷✷✷✷✷✷✷✷✷✷✷✷✷✷✷✷✷✷✷✷✷

Her footsteps were heavy on the cold stone floor of the halls. The Council meeting had been a long one, the sun had already been set for a while now, the castle quiet since most staff and royals had retreated to their own chambers. The Queen made her way to her bedchambers at the very end of the hall, escorted by her sworn sword. You both walked in silence, you could see the weight of her duties dragging her down. Her shoulders were slumped, but still she walked with purpose. She hadn’t been sleeping, you knew that, because every night you stood outside her room to stand guard, you saw the light slip underneath her door and heard shuffling inside the room.

You open the big wooden doors that lead to her quarters, so she can step inside. You follow right behind her, lighting some candles to light up her room a bit. Before you announce your departure to the queen, now standing facing the balcony, you decide to speak for the first time in what felt like hours.

“Your Grace?”, you ask softly. She doesn't answer, seeming to be lost in her own thoughts, so you try again.

“Alicent?”

The use of her name instead of her title makes her wake from her thoughts. She turns around and looks at you. It takes your breath away every single time. You knew it wasn't right, she was your boss, the queen of the seven kingdoms, but you couldn’t help it. Every time you laid eyes on the Dowager queen, you couldn’t help but admire her beauty.

“Yes?” she responded curtly, though there was kindness in the way she spoke to you.

You decide to speak, all might it be out of line. “You should get some rest”

“Rest...” Alicent echoed, her voice tinged with frustration. "I wish I could, but duty does not pause for the queen's exhaustion." The weight of duty was immense, and the thought of rest seemed like a luxury she could not afford in times like these. Yet, the truth was that her body was beginning to buckle under the strain. Her husband, the king, was very ill, and his duties had become hers.

"But... I suppose you are right," she added, acknowledging the wisdom in her guard's words. "I cannot lead if I am weakened."

“Ill draw a bath for you, your grace” you propose. It was so late when the two of you came back from the council that her handmaidens had already retreated back to their homes.

“Alright,” Alicent answered quietly, a hint of relief creeping into her voice, “Thank you.”

Without another word, you remove the heavy layers of your armor to be able to help her out. Making your way to the bronze tub in the corner of the room, you start by heating up the water. Filling the water with oils, the sweet fumes of which filling the room with a relaxing smell.

"I... I will need some help removing my dress." Alicent spoke up. Her cheeks flushed with embarrassment, but her words were tinged with an underlying fatigue.

“Of course, your grace”, you say, as you try not to think about the proximity in which you will be to the queen. The two of you have been close before, of course, you were her sworn sword, her protector. But never like this. Never just the two of you, confined in her bedchambers, nonetheless.

Alicent nodded her appreciation, thankful that she would not have to struggle alone with the intricate laces and ribbons of her dress. As she stood by the tub, the scent of rose oil wafted through the air, a soft fragrance to soothe her stress.

“I do not wish to burden you with my... personal matters." Despite trying to keep her composure as queen, at that moment Alicent felt a sense of vulnerability, as if the queen’s facade of regal authority had slipped away.

“You do not burden me, your grace”, you say softly. “I'm happy to help.”

“Can I?”, you ask her softly for permission to start untying the laces of her intricate green dress. It was absolutely breathtaking. A deep dark green, decorated with lace and stones. It must have cost a fortune. The contrast of her green dress and the brown of her eyes, that shimmered in the light of the candles around the room and made it look like flowing honey, made your head feel foggy.

Alicent nodded, “Yes, you may,” she replied politely. It was almost a whisper. She was slightly taken aback by your question. It seemed so simple, but to the queen it wasn’t. Her body was never hers, she had never been asked to be touched before, and your simple question of permission made her heart warm. The two of you always had this sort of tension. The air feeling thicker when you got close. You spend a lot of time together, since you were her personal guard, but somewhere along the way you created a special bond. The two of you didn't speak a lot, but Alicent knew you were loyal to her family, but mostly to her, and always stood by her, no matter what. You made the Queen feel things she hadn’t felt since Rhaenyra and her were young.

As you approached, Alicent presented her back to you, the laces of her emerald green gown flowing down her waist like intricate strands of thread. The Queen's breath hitched slightly as her guard gently removed the complex knots, the feeling of your strong hands touching her being strangely soothing to her.

And as you worked on undoing the laces, Alicent's breath grew softer as the tension from her dress lessened. The queen's back was bared for you to see, you gulped when you saw the smooth skin of her back being presented to you. The room being filled by the smell of rose petals and the steam from the bath, representing the growing tension between the two of you.

Your fingertips brush slightly against the queen's back as you remove the last of the laces. Taking a step back, you allow Alicent her space to undress further.

Alicent gracefully let her dress fall down, pooling on the stone floor like cascading waves. The queen's pale skin contrasted against the deep emerald-colored fabric, and as she stood in her smallclothes, the queen felt a strange sense of vulnerability. 

She could feel her guard's gaze upon her back, but there was something strangely comforting by the presence of someone who didn't seek to take advantage of her body or her power, but simply to serve and protect.

Letting out a quick cough, you turn around with your cheeks reddening, so she can rid herself of the last layer and get into the bath.

With her guard's eyes turned away, Alicent slipped out of her smallclothes and stepped into the awaiting bathtub. The warm water enveloped her body, and some of the day's exhaustion melted away in its embrace. As she settled into the bath, the queen sighed softly, relishing in the feeling of clean, warm water against her skin.

The moment you turn back around, your breath hitches. Although the cloudy water hides most of her body, you have never seen her like this, and your imagination runs wild about what hides beneath the rippling service of the water. You quickly shake your head to get rid of the inappropriate thoughts about the queen.

“Ehm, ill leave you to it then, your grace”, you say as you try to look away from her naked figure. Once you pick up you armor and leave for the door, a soft voice stops you in your tracks.

“Wait,” Alicent's voice interrupts you, “stay.” There is a flicker of longing in her eyes as she speaks out to you.

You feel like you are in a dream right now. “Excuse me, your grace?”, you ask to make sure you heard the Queen correctly.

Alicent repeats her words, her voice tinged with a subtle plea. "Stay. Please... stay with me."

The queen's gaze remains fixed on you, and the vulnerability in her eyes is a sharp contrast to the regal composure that she so often wears around the castle. 

You drop your stuff to the floor, your gaze never leaving hers. ���Where do you want me?”

She points to an antique stool next to the bathtub. “Just keep me company for a while.”

The queen's voice is laced with sincerity and a touch of exhaustion, her gaze meeting yours with a hint of tenderness and longing.

Without another word, you walk over to the stool next to the bath and take a seat, arm resting on the side of the tub. Alicent leans back against the bathtub, relishing the warmth and comfort it provides.

“Thank you,” she whispers softly, a hint of a smile tugging at the corners of her lips.

As you sit in silence for a moment, you try not to let your eyes wander to her barely covered body. Alicent remains quiet, her gaze drifting to the surface of the water, which slightly shifts and ripples along with the movements of her body. The heat from the water and the rose-scented steam fills the air, creating a calming atmosphere. The queen's body is mostly hidden, and yet the gentle swell of her curves are visible through the water, adding an air of mystery and intrigue to her presence.

When you catch yourself looking at her body, you quickly look up, only to be met with her brown eyes already on yours. Alicent notices your gaze upon her, and a soft blush tints her cheeks. Neither of you look away, and for a moment, the tension in the air thickens.

“I'm sorry your grace, that was inappropriate”, you say as you go to stand up, but she grabs your sleeve as not to let you leave her side

"It's alright, please... stay." Alicent's voice is a tender whisper, and as she grasps the sleeve of your shirt, her touch is gentle but insistent. Her eyes hold a faint hint of vulnerability. Without breaking their eye contact, Alicent gently tugs on your sleeve, a silent plea for you to stay. Her touch makes your breath hitch, and you sit back down, not leaving her gaze

Alicent's eyes continue to hold yours with a mix of vulnerability and comfort. The heat of the water, the scent of the oils, and the quiet intimacy shared between the two of you create a sense of closeness that goes beyond mere companionship.

Alicent's hand remains gently resting on the edge of the tub, within your reach. So you decide to make the first move. “Tell me if you want me to stop, your grace”, you say, before letting your fingertips softly touch her hand, slowly dragging them up the length of her arm.

Alicent's heart skips a beat as she feels your touch, leaving a trail of goosebumps in their wake. Her breath catches in her throat, and her eyes follow the movement of your hand with a mix of anticipation and eagerness. After a moment of excruciating silence, she finally whispers, "Keep going," in a low, enticing voice. The queen felt like her skin is set ablaze, and she leans into your touch ever so slightly.

When you suddenly stand up, Alicent wants to protest, but before she can speak up, you move the stool behind her and sit back down. Your hands make contact with her shoulders, massaging away the tension of the day. A soft sigh of contentment escapes Alicent's lips as she feels the firm yet gentle pressure of your hands on her shoulders and neck. The queen's body relaxes under your touch, the tension, and stress of the day melting away as you work out the knots and kinks in her muscles. Your touch is soothing, and the queen closes her eyes, savouring in the sensations.

As you keep massaging her body you move your head closer to her ear. "Would you like me to keep going your grace?" you speak in a hushed tone.

At your quiet whisper, a shiver runs down Alicent's spine, and her response comes in a low and breathless voice. "Yes," she whispers, her eyes half-lidded with pleasure. "Keep going...please.."

As your fingertips work their magic, the queen leans further back into your embrace, her body surrendering to the sensations you create. Sliding one of your hands over her shoulder, you move it towards the water. The queen's body responds to your ministrations, her chest rising and falling slightly as she lets out a soft gasp. The mixture of pleasure and excitement is undeniable as your fingers graze against her soft skin.

Alicent's breath hitches as your hands make contact with her breast, the sudden intimacy and sensation sending a jolt of desire through her body, towards her core. Her back arches slightly at your touch, a soft moan escaping her lips.

"Just relax, Alicent." you speak up. "I've got you."

Your other hand mirrors the one on already on her breast and you begin to massage her chest, teasing her by sliding your hands across her nipples. When her breathing becomes more ragged, your movement become bolder. Playing with her nipples makes the Queen moan and mewl softly. You decide these sounds might be the holliest of things you have ever experienced. Kissing her neck, you can feel her pulse quicken. Never had Alicent felt such pleassure as she did now. Never had she been taken care of like this, being pleassured without being demanded something in return.

Alicent sits up more, exposing her chest to you. The top of her back that wasnt against the tub, now pressed against your front. One of your hands abandons her nipple and traverses lower under the water. When you reach her intimacy, the Queen holds in her breath. Cupping her pussy, you can feel how wet she is, even while she is submerged in the tub.

As Alicent turns her head back and to the side, you stare into her big doe eyes. Her mouth hangs open slightly as your palm slowely starts rubbing her clit. The Queen's soft sighs turn into moans and curses as the friction increases.

The hand that was still playing with her nipples, moved to her face, pulling her closer so you lips were mere inches apart. You press your lips to hers in a seering kiss, and at the same time you push a single diget inside of her. Alicent moans into the kiss, but returns it feverishly, her hand tugging at your shirt, pulling you closer. You have to try not to fall into the tub with her.

The moment you start pumping you finger inside of her, she loses it. God, if you knew the Queen of Westeros would be this loud in bed, you would have made the first move ages ago.

"Please, please, please, please..." she says over and over again, the words spilling from her lips like a prayer.

"Shhh, ive got you." you reply, adding a second finger into her, slowly picking up the pace with which you fucked her. Some of the water violently splashing over the tub by now.

You could practically hear the seams of your shirt ripping, with the force Alicent was clawing at you. Your tounge explored her mouth as your fingers kept working their magic underneath the water.

"I- Im gonna..."

"Cum for me, your Alicent" you interupt her.

And like clockwork, Alicent came undone all over your fingers. Her back arching out of the water, a loud moan of your name filling the empty space. And as you let her ride out her orgasm on your fingers, you litered her skin with kisses. Showing her your love and loyalty. Not to her family, but to her and only her.

She shuddered when you pulled your fingers out of her. Pulling them out of the water and straight into your mouth, cleaning your hand of her juices, moaning at the sweet taste. The Queen just stared at you with wide eyes.

"Thank you...for that." Alicent spoke first after she had regained her breath. A rosy tint spreading across her cheeks.

"It was my pleasure, your grace." you anwer with a slight smirk. "The water is getting cold, let me help you out."

Alicent stood up in the tub, slightly emberassed to show her body to you, even after the activities the two of you just did. She never found herself quite attractive, her body in particular. It was made to bare children, nothing more. Thats the thought she had grown up with. But now, standing naked in that tub, with you staring at her like she was the most beautifull woman that had ever set foot on the earth, she felt like she wasnt just a tool for men to use and abuse. She felt seen and loved.

You lifted her out of the tub like she weighed nothing and pulled a large towel around her naked frame. Rubbing you hands over her arms to help her dry off. You let her dry herself off fully as you go over to blow out most of the candles, letting just a few lit for when she sleeps.

Standing back infront of her, Alicent had now dressed herself in her nightgown. You push a strand of hair behind her ear and cup her face, before kissing her one last time. For all you knew, this moment would be a once in a lifetime. Where the two of you would not speak of this ever, or you would wake up tomorrow to guards dragging you infront of a dragon to be its breakfast for what you just did to the Queen of Westeros. The kiss was short, but her lips felt heavenly on your own.

Alicent leans into the kiss. She felt like a teenager again. Deep down she knew this was wrong, but right now she had never felt this good.

"You should get some sleep" you say. "its late and you have a long day tomorrow."

"You are right" she says before kissing your cheek and climbing into bed.

"You can't stay, can you?" she asks. She knows the answer, but still sounds hopefull.

"I can't, but i will be right outside your door." you answer as you put your armor back on to stand guard at the Queens door all night.

As you go to leave, she stops you one last time.

"y/n?"

You turn around and see her all cozy in her bed. "Yes?"

"Thank you" she says in the most sincere way possible.

"Anytime." you answer, before leaving her room and closing the door behind you. You didnt know what would happen between the two of you now, but you meant it. You would be there for her, always, no matter what. You had told her many times but after tonight, Alicent might truly believed that.

[00-jammy-00]

HI!

Could you do a reader deity who is basically forgotten but Yan finds them and worshippes the hell out of them? (Maybe to the point of having a cult if you're comfortable)

And if you're uncomfortable with the ask that's perfectly fine! I'll probably send another Idea then!

Also any chance I could be 🔪 anon?

Thank you and have a good day! :D

Yan!Worshipper HC’s

Yan!Worshipper x GN! Deity! Reader

Content warning - Yandere themes, obsession, murder, implied stalking, nsfw mentions, manipulation, cult themes, he’s really pathetic I won’t lie

A/N - One more day until my 1K follower special ends!

———————————————————————————————————

Yan!Worshipper who had stumbled upon you when he decided to listen to his dumbass boss and go hiking. He had fallen down the side of a hill, almost breaking his ankle in the process. Though, all of that pain was so worth it when he saw your old, ruined shrine.

Yan!Worshipper who began visiting once a week. When you noticed you had finally gotten a follower, you were excited so you showed yourself when he prayed. He saw stars. You were so gorgeous, so perfect. Just seeing you had his jaw dropped and his pants uncomfortably tight.

Yan!Worshipper whose schedule slightly changed. Visiting you once a week, once every three days, once a day, multiple times a day… It didn’t matter though! He quit his job because you blessed him with amazing luck. He fixed up your shrine but he still felt horrible, you were forgotten. He did the only thing he could think of doing and started to spread the word about you.

Yan!Worshipper who slowly developed a following for you, just a few people here and there…a few hundred. He was a devoted man okay?! Of course he led the cult, none of these fuckers were worthy. None of them were allowed to gaze upon you but him. Only he could bask in your presence, bathe you, dress you, watch you, follow you, fuck you.

Yan!Worshipper who snapped a few necks while attempting to keep this cult going. Some people were so ungrateful, didn’t see what you had to offer. He made sure to soothe you whenever you got too stressed about the disappearances too. “It’s okay, my love, they are apart of something bigger, now look at all the offerings you are getting!” He made sure these brainless drones donated a bunch to this fucking thing too, he couldn’t go broke while servicing you.

Yan!Worshipper who is attending to your every need constantly. He brought you the finest silks, the biggest bed, the ripest fruit and anything else you wanted, as long as you were pleased then he was happy. It made him even more happy when you let him service you in other ways.

Yan!Worshipper who pounds you like the world is ending tomorrow. He can’t help but constantly be touching you, admiring you. He drags his fingers down your body, memorising every single piece of you. You were all his! He didn’t care about his own pleasure when his god was sitting right there. He once came three times just from giving you head.

Yan!Worshipper who’ll never let the cult be shut down. He’s paid off police and government officials to turn a blind eye to the murders sacrifices that happen at the mountain. He couldn’t have his work taken away. God forbid you get taken away. You’re his now. You chose him.

———————————————————————————————————

Likes, reblogs and comments are greatly appreciated, requests are open <3

please do not copy, repost or translate any of my works on other platforms without my permission.

[bratbby333]

oh em GEEEE IMAGINE GAMER BF SUKUNA WANTING TO PLAY MINECRAFT W YOU BUT HES STUBBORN SO HE DOESNT ADMIT IT BUT YOU CATCH HIM PLAYING BY HIMSELF ON HIS OWN PC AND YOU TEASE HIM SAYING HE COULDVE JUST ASKED 💔💔💔💔💔

gamer!bf sukuna fluff—sfw !! cw: language. smau + blurb

with a quick kiss on your forehead, sukuna informs you he’s running competitive games on COD for a cash prize and emphasizes that he needs you to leave him alone so he can focus. god, he can be such a diva.

you’ve been curled up on the couch for an hour or so, aimlessly scrolling through your phone. sukuna is holed up in the office, most likely talking shit and being a menace online.

a brief yell echoes through your apartment, followed by a quick slam of his fists against his desk.

“im done with this shit,” he exclaims, most likely quitting the game he was in. it seems he didn’t win his competition.

you giggle to yourself, shaking your head. you find it amusing how angry he gets during his games. but, you do feel a bit bad that he lost, so you decide to invite him to a voice call on discord.

as you navigate to your private chat with him, you watch as his status changes from “playing COD” to…wait. that can’t be right…minecraft? no way. that’s impossible.

you give it 30 minutes to see if it was just an accidental click. when you check back, his status remains the same.

you smirk as you open up your messages, eager to see if he’ll confess.

you giggle to yourself as you stand from the couch, taking quick steps down the hall.

as you push open the office door, a cheeky grin can’t help but pull at your cheeks as you approach him.

you join him at the desk, taking a seat in front of your monitor. “you’re so stubborn, ya know that?”

“i told you not to speak of this ever again,” he muttered, aimlessly walking around minecraft as he waits for your computer to boot up.

“lemme just hear you say it,” you tease.

“say what?” he asks, turning to face you, a look of annoyance on his face at your adamance to continue this conversation.

“you like minecraft,” you replied simply, raising your eyebrows. “just admit it and i’ll never say another word.”

he stared at your for a minute, his jaw clenching and unclenching. with a heavy sigh, he turns back to his monitor, grumbling an almost inaudible, “i like minecraft,” with a roll of his eyes.

but it’s a lie. a dirty little secret. he doesn’t just like it, he loves it. he especially loves how happy you get when the two of you play together, as much as he tries to deny it.

the two of you spend the next three hours running around minecraft. sukuna is clearly enjoying himself, though you can tell he’s attempting to hide it with an abrupt clear of his throat or a quick cough to cover up his laughter.

a warm feeling spins around your stomach, giggling as you watch him fight back a persistent smile the entire time.

an: thank you for your request my sweet anon. this was adorable.

i really want to start doing smau’s ugh they’re just so cute and fun to make. i have a full-length fic coming up that incorporates them into the story!! this is my way of experimenting w that format…please let me know what you think! in a way, i feel like it makes the story more real.

thank you for all your support 🥺🫶🏼 i wanna give every single one of yall a big ole smooch on the forehead

my asks are always open. don’t be shy, drop a suggestion, send feedback, leave a request, or just come say hello! i love talking to yall 💛

likes, comments, and reblogs are always appreciated !!

bratbby333 on tumblr. all rights reserved. please do not distribute. 2024.

[mack-mack-mack]

Very Demure, Very Mindful-Toto Wolff

First time posting on Tumblr. I think you all would appreciate this more here than on AO3.

Summmary: Mr. Wolff was the…most interesting person to work with. He was always willing to participate in a trend, but he always took extra convincing. I have to basically beg on my knees every time I step into his office asking for content. He seemed to enjoy watching me struggle and I still don't know how to handle that. It felt like I was losing a game I didn't quite know I was playing.

or

Toto is very mindful, very demure (We all saw the video).

I love my job. I swear I do. I mean how many get to say they follow the Mercedes Formula One team around, convincing them to participate in social media challenges and trends?

Unfortunately, some days it was an impossible task. On other days, it was the best job in the world. Today was one of those rough days. 

George was the easiest person to make videos with. He was charismatic and funny. The audience ate him up every time. Lewis was an enigma. I was terrified of the man. He was way too cool for TikTok let alone casual conversation with the social media manager. The crew was always eager and the junior divisions often came up with their own ideas…that they would send me at all hours of the day, begging me to do whatever it was the next time they were together. 

And then there was Toto. 

Mr. Wolff was the…most interesting person to work with. He was always willing to participate in a trend, but he always took extra convincing. I have to basically beg on my knees every time I step into his office asking for content. He seemed to enjoy watching me struggle and I still don't know how to handle that. It felt like I was losing a game I didn't quite know I was playing.

He flusters me. He makes me blush and I have to fight the giggles that try to escape when he speaks to me. And then he makes this really intense eye contact and I forget how to breathe. Every. Single. Time. 

It wasn't right to have a crush on the Team Principal. But honestly, who didn't? Have you seen him? Can I be blamed? No. 

I had already collected footage of George, Kimi, and a few others for the day. That was easy and it was fun. Lewis wasn't in today so his photoshoot from the last race weekend would suffice. Huge weight off my shoulders, really. If I had to work with both Lewis and Toto today I don’t think I would have survived.

Maybe I’ll post a Roscoe slideshow and count that for Lewis. I’ll text his agent later. 

I nodded and wrote down a few notes on the outline attached to my clipboard, noticing the limited content I gathered while at headquarters. It was race weekend so everyone was heading to Zaandavort in a few days. I knew I would end up with more footage over the weekend and plenty to edit before we left. 

It was time to visit Toto though. Which meant I had to stop avoiding the office at the end of the hall on the top floor and actually speak to the older man. I checked the watch on my wrist and saw it was 4:30. I had an hour to get up the nerve, talk to him, film things, and not melt into a puddle at his feet. Easy.

Most people had left the office already, preparing to jet off the next day, so it was silent as I made my way to the elevators and up to the top floor of the building, turning left at the landing. I took a deep breath, shaking out my hands as I approached the end of the hall. I stopped in front of his slightly ajar door and gave myself an internal pep talk.

You're a bad bitch and you will not succumb to Toto. He is just a man. You eat men for breakfast. 

I rapped on the door three times, waiting for the response from inside.

I heard the tapping of keys cease after a moment and then an accented voice spoke, “Yes?”

I pushed the door open with shaky hands, “Hi, Mr. Wolff,” 

He smiled when I walked in and shook his head, “I’ve told you to call me Toto,”

“And I told you I can’t do that, sir,”

The man stared at me from behind his desk, his head tilted and the same small smile on his lips. Very kissable lips.

Stop it.

“Very well. Come in. Shut the door.” He motioned me into the room.

I walked in and stood in front of his desk and closed the door behind me. I walked to his desk but didn’t sit down on any of the plush chairs. I was far too jumpy to take a seat. 

“How can I help you, dear?” Toto asked standing from his seat, coming to the front of the desk, and leaning a hip against it.

Did he just call me dear? Why is he so close to me?

I resisted the urge to take a step back, maintaining the foot of space between us. He was close enough I could smell him and it was already starting to cloud my senses. 

“Umm,” I had to remember the question. What did he ask?

He arched an eyebrow at me but said nothing as I stuttered in front of him. Was he smirking? Did he think this was funny?

“I-uh. I need some social media content from you if that's okay. There's this trend that everyone is doing right now and the crew thought it would be the most funny if you were the one to do it. And I have to listen because they are so right. It would be hilarious. Really it would. But only if you want to, Mr. Wolff. It’s silly really,” I was rambling. I shut my mouth mid-thought and stared up at the man in front of me.

“It would be funny if I did it, you say? And why is that, darling?” He was fully smiling now, his eyes sparkling with something I couldn’t quite put my finger on. 

“So there’s this trend, right? And it's really silly,” I was repeating myself. I want to crawl into my skin, “Basically there was this creator on TikTok who made a video and it blew up and now everyone is making videos saying ‘very, demure, very mindful’ and it would be funny if you did it cause y’know…um,” I trailed, fidgeting under his unrelenting gaze.

“Because I’m so very demure, very mindful,?” Toto cocked an eyebrow and crossed his arms.

“I mean, I um well...I mean do you feel demure and mindful, Mr. Wolff? I can’t tell you how you feel so do you feel demure and mindful? If you don’t want to we won’t make the video and I’ll leave you be. It’s really okay, I’ll ask George to do it this weekend. It’ll be funny too,” I couldn't stop talking. I always word-vomited in front of this man. Have since I was hired. I am praying for the day he finally decides to shut me up.

He just stared at me, that same look still dancing in his dark eyes. I stared back at him, frozen in place. I could feel my cheeks getting hot. 

Please stop looking at me like that or I’m going to combust.

“What was that, darling?” Toto asked, licking his lips and leaning back onto his hands. He looked at me from foot to head and came back to rest on my face.

“What was what?” I asked quickly, too quickly.

“You’re going to combust if I look at you like this? How am I looking at you, then?”

I said that out loud. Shit, I said that out loud. 

My eyes widened and I felt my mouth opening and closing like a fish on dry land, “I am so sorry, sir. I just meant. I mean I. I-. Shit. Shit, I can't say shit in front of you. I’m going to stop talking and I am going to leave. Have a great day, Mr. Wolff,” I placed a foot behind me, ready to turn and run out of the office and go home. I wanted to crawl into bed and never come out.

It could've been worse. I could've said a lot worse.

“Wait,” Toto reached out and grabbed my hand.

I froze staring down at my hand in his. 

What the fuck? Why is he holding my hand? 

I looked back up at him and released the breath I had been holding.

“Yes, sir?” I whispered, my voice barely audible through the tightness in my throat.

“You need to stop calling me sir or I might be the one to combust,” He whispered back, equally as quiet.

What? Did I hear him right?

“Sir, you're my boss. It’s kinda the thing to call you,” I replied, confused.

“Ah, ah. I am not your boss. I do not give you directions or sign your paycheck. I already feel wrong enough, do not call me your boss and make it worse,” Toto tugged me closer, taking the gap between us from a foot to mere inches. 

I gasped sharply at the movement, afraid to look away from our hands resting on his lap.

“Make what worse…sir?” I looked at him through my lashes, pulling my lip into my mouth.

He tracked every movement, his hand tightening around mine.

“You don’t want to know, dear. Somethings are better left unsaid, yeah?”

We were whispering in the quiet room as if someone nearby would hear us. As if the building wasn't empty at almost 5 o’clock the day before race weekend began. 

“But what if I do? What if I want it to be said? What if I want to make things worse?” I met his eyes finally, nerves or butterflies churning in my stomach. I couldn’t tell. I don't think I cared all that much. The way he was looking at me was enough to clear any anxiety I was feeling. 

“That’s a very dangerous thing to say, dear. Only say things you mean not things you’ll regret,” Toto’s eyes were hooded, as he looked at me, brushing his thumb over my hand.

“I like living on the dangerous side, Mr. Wolff,” I did not recognize the voice that came out of me.

I do not do dangerous. I don’t ever do dangerous. What am I saying?

”I told you not to call me that,” His voice had gone deep and husky and it was doing something to me that I didn’t want to admit. 

“Make me, sir,” Who the fuck was she? That couldn’t have been me, no way. 

Toto made a noise in the back of his throat and it sent shivers down my spine. He pulled me closer, placing one of his free hands behind my neck. I was inches from him. I could feel his breath on my skin, “I am going to kiss you now, is that okay?”

I nodded, my eyes falling shut, my head tilting up. He pressed his lips to mine and every thought left my mind. He was so gentle, nothing like I thought he would be but somehow so much better. His hand was firm behind my neck, keeping me in place. We were still holding hands and he continued rubbing his thumb over mine. 

He slowly explored my mouth with his, moving his lips with mine. He lightly licked my bottom lip, requesting entrance. I opened my mouth, letting him in, begging him to take me. 

The kiss deepened. He removed his hand from mine and moved it to my hip, squeezing gently and pulling me close. I was standing between his open legs, hands at my side, still in shock from what was going on.

Wait what was going on?

I pulled away, somehow, “Wait, wait, what is happening, Mr. Wolff?”

He looked at me and chuckled softly, “I am kissing you. I would like to continue to kiss you and much more if I am being honest with you, darling. Is that okay?”

”Yes but why?” It took all of me not to fall back into him but I needed to know. I couldn’t just let this man kiss me out of nowhere without some kind of explanation.

”Because you are beautiful. And you are strong. You are kind to others and very funny. You are excellent at your job and I admire you. I want to do this because I want you and I have for a long time. And I see the way you look at me. I see how red your cheeks become and the way your breath catches when I get close. I know you want this too. Am I correct, darling?” His gaze didn’t move from mine, captivating me in its intensity. He was being honest that much I could tell.

I nodded taking a shaky breath, “Yes. You’re right. I do. I really do, Mr. Wolff. I-“

He kissed me again, crashing our mouths together, an effective way of shutting me up. He tugged me to his body, his chest and mine pressed together. His hand on my waist went around to the small of my back, pulling me until our bodies were completely flush. I could feel every inch of him against me. Every inch.

I laced my fingers into his hair, moaning quietly. He bit into my bottom lip, then licked into my mouth. We stayed like that, pressed together, exploring each other for a while. I couldn’t tell how long I was lost in Toto’s embrace.

He pulled his mouth and pressed it to my ear, “What can I do to you?” He pressed a wet kiss to my neck as I took in what he said.

”Anything, sir,” I was breathless, his lips leaving flames everywhere he pressed them.

”Anything?” He asked in my ear again.

I nodded, choking on another moan.

”Lovely,” He stood from his desk and turned us around. He put his hands under my thighs and lifted me onto the desk, pushing things out of the way. Some pens and files fell to the floor and he made no move to pick them up. I placed my hands on his chest, fiddling with the buttons on his white shirt. He nodded and made a soft noise, urging me to take it off. I slowly unbuttoned his shirt and pushed it off his strong shoulders. I dragged my hands down his toned chest, taking in every hard plane and soft angle. 

Toto tilted my head to the side to gain better access to my neck. He continued his journey off my neck and down my shoulder, pulling the neckline out of the way to reach my skin. The hand that wasn't in my hair was fiddling with the bottom of my shirt, silently requesting me to take it off. I promptly yanked my shirt over my head and I heard him let out a low chuckle.

”What do we have here?” He asked, raking his eyes over my naked abdomen and breasts still trapped in the dark lace of my bra.

 He ran his hands up my hips and sides and back down, his calloused thumbs a perfect contrast to my soft skin. His mouth was warm as he pressed his lips to my collarbone, working his way across my chest. He hovered his mouth above one of my nipples, his warm breath raising it to attention. He took it into his mouth and bit down lightly with his teeth, then licked it to soothe the sharpness. He moved his mouth to the other side, leaving a wet splotch in his wake, and did the same thing, until my breasts were aching to be set free. I arched my chest, begging him to touch me, please me, anything. 

“Someone’s eager, isn’t she?” Toto’s hands were on the top of my thighs and he slowly spread them further apart. 

He fell to his knees in front of me, and I stared at the top of his head in shock.

Toto Wolff, team principal of Mercedes, was on his knees in front of me kissing my thighs. What the fuck was happening?

“What are you doing, sir?” I asked, placing my hand in his hair and the other on the desk behind me. 

“I plan on eating a little snack. Is that okay?” Toto looked up at me, a smirk on his swollen lips.

Holy fucking shit. He wants to eat me out. How the fuck is this happening right now?

He pulled off each of my shoes one by one, cradling my calf in his hands as he did so. Toto raised his hands to the waistband of my pants, popping the button and slowly taking down the zipper. He let his hands drift back up to the bare skin of my stomach again, gentle fingers dragging across my skin, leaving goosebumps behind. I let out another shaky moan at his touch, fisting the hair I held in my hand.

He drew his mouth down from my belly button over the open seam of my zipper. He used his hands to start shimmying my pants off of me. I lifted my hips so he could continue pulling them down and off my body. He drew a hand up my leg from my ankle to my knee to my thigh and back down. Then his mouth followed a similar path on the inside of my leg. I was in a daze, his mouth had me entranced. My breath was ragged and my hands were barely holding me up. I let out a louder moan as he licked a long strip up my center and continued kissing down my other leg. He let out a hungry growl as he did it. 

I panted quietly, feeling the wetness I knew he tasted through my panties. I needed him to hurry up,  “Mr. Wolff, please, sir,” 

“I love when you beg for me, darling,”

I softly moaned at his words, feeling myself clench around nothing.

”Please,” I said again, reaching for him, to drag him closer to my middle.

”So needy for me,” He whispered on my inner thigh before brushing another kiss there.

He tucked a single finger into my underwear, feeling the desire gathered there. He traced his finger down my slit, gathering some of the slickness, removing it, and then sticking his finger in his mouth, maintaining eye contact the entire time, “So fucking good, baby,”

My thighs tensed around his head and he turned his head to press another kiss to my thigh. I placed a hand in his hair, tugging him forward.

He kissed me through my panties again with a breathy laugh. He placed a finger on each side of my hips, under my underwear, and tugged them off, until I was completely bare before him. 

I should be nervous. I really should. But I wasn't I just needed his mouth on me as soon as possible. 

Toto looked up at me again, waiting for my nod of consent.

”Please, Toto,” I said. 

”Sir. You call me sir,” He pressed his mouth to my core, kissing directly onto my clit, sending a shock through my system.

”Fuck! Yes, Sir.  Mr. Wolff, I need you,” I moaned loudly, my hand clenching in his hair. 

Toto licked a stripe down my slit and back up, circling the little swollen bundle of nerves. He took it into his mouth, sucking lightly before releasing it and going back towards my entrance. He dipped his tongue, lapping up the pre-cum already collecting. He grabbed one of my legs and placed it over his shoulder, changing the angle and driving himself deeper into me. He moved his hand from my thigh and dragged his thumb from his tongue to my clit. His thumb pressed against the bud and worked it in circles while his tongue was moving inside of me.  

The noises I was letting out were filthy. He continued his silent assault and I felt my orgasm building. He removed his mouth and pressed a kiss to the inside of my thigh. He took one long finger, inserted it in me, and curled it, immediately hitting a spot deep in me that made my hips buck in response.

Toto tsked me and lightly bit down on my thigh as his finger continued working me. He added a second finger and brought his mouth back to my clit.

”Mr. Wolff, I’m not going to last much longer,” I panted out, feeling the precipice approaching rapidly.

”Good. Come for me, darling” He curled his fingers again and took my clit between his teeth. That did me in.

My entire body tensed and I exploded on Toto’s fingers, walls clenching around him. 

“That’s a good girl,” Toto purred, continuing to draw the orgasm out of me. 

My body stopped shaking after a moment and he removed his fingers from inside me. He took them into his mouth and licked them clean. 

I stared at him wide-eyed, breaths coming rapidly, watching him clean up. He stood and reached over his desk to grab a tissue. He patted the inside of my thighs, removing the dampness there. He reached down to the chair by his side to retrieve my panties before gently sliding them back up my legs. Neither of us had spoken yet.

He stood up and stepped between my legs, placing his hands on either side of my face.

”Are you okay?” Toto whispered, thumbs brushing my cheekbones.

I nodded and he pressed his lips to my forehead before wrapping his arms around me. We stayed there for a while, wrapped in each other. 

We pulled away when I shivered as the air conditioning kicked on, realizing I was still in my panties and bra.

Toto bent to help me collect my discarded clothing and handed it to me. I pulled on my shirt and pants and tugged back on my shoes. Toto stood watching me the entire time and I glanced up to meet his gaze when I was done.

“Yes, sir?” I asked, a blush warming my cheeks.

His eyes flashed at the word choice and he shook his head, “I want to do that again soon,”

I giggled and looked down, “Okay, Mr. Wolff,”

He shook his head at me, stepped forward, and placed another kiss on my forehead. 

“Mr. Wolff?” I said a moment later when he pulled away.

“Hmm?” 

“We still have to make that TikTok,”

He threw his head back and laughter erupted from him, “Maybe at the paddock we can do something, yeah?”

I nodded and smiled at him, “We can make that work. I’ll draw something up for us to do,” 

Toto stared at me a moment longer, “Do you want to go get dinner, darling?”

I looked at him, slightly shocked, “Dinner?”

Toto nodded and moved behind his desk to grab his things and shut down his computers.

“With me?”

“Yes of course with you. I know it’s the wrong order but I figured we could go out to eat,”

My mouth dropped open “Like a date?”

Toto looked up at me, confused at my confusion, “Yes like a date,”

I nodded slowly waiting for him to say Nevermind.

He did not.

“Okay. Well. Okay. Yeah, let me get my things then. I need to stop at my office,”

Toto grabbed his jacket and his bag and came around the front of the desk, “Let’s go then,”

He took my hand in his and started tugging me out of his office. 

“Yes, sir”

[delulupunk]

How the batboys would react to shopping!

Quick A/N: Thank you for all of the support! I appreciate every single one of you!! I have also added Duke just send an ask if you’d like him to also be included in my previous posts and I’ll make it happen.

Dick Grayson

You would both spend an equal amount doing shopping for yourselves. This means you’d also help Dick with his shopping too.

Dick would make no secret of trying to find clothes that match the ones you just bought- he’ll hold up your new dress to a jacket in the store, to check the shades of colour are the same.

You’d most likely spend a long time at the shopping centre if you both love shopping. However if you aren’t the biggest fan of shopping then you’d still spend a fair amount of time shopping, just because Dick likes it so much.

Dick is one of the best men to go shopping with opinion wise. He gives the best advice and slowly steers you away from the less than attractive pieces of clothing. You’ll find you have plenty of fully planned outfits by the end of the trip.

The time you’d go shopping is the morning- Dick would make an entire day out of the spree, which means you’d wrap it up between late noon or evening time.

Jason Todd

Unless you’re shopping for something Jason has an interest in, like books, he won’t be contented following you around like a guard dog. So you’d have to be sneakier with planning your shopping trips.

You’d have to ease him into the day gently by shopping for books and then going to a shop you’d want to go to. Then you’d have a meal and continue shopping, ensuring you drop in shops you’ll know he wants to go to so he doesn’t get bored.

Your plan works, but Jason gets wise and realises. He pretends not to notice, because he adores the fact that you’re not selfish. You make the day fun for him as well and act on what he wants to do.

The shopping day would most likely begin at noon, because Jason’s tired from patrol the night beforehand and has slept in.

If you tell him how excited you are about the trip though, he’ll make the extra effort to get up earlier and show he’s more enthusiastic.

Tim Drake

Tim’s not afraid to spend money on you and frequently you’ll find you don’t even need to go shopping. Since as soon as you mention one little thing you need, it’ll be right in your hands. He isn’t wrapped around your little finger though, but he wants to communicate to you that he listens to what you say.

Tim’s more of a business now, fun later type of man, you’ll go past shops that perhaps aren’t the highest on your hit list and he’ll grill you to make sure you don’t need anything from them. This leads to you going grocery shopping during your shopping trips.

He’ll hold some of your bags for you though, but only if you really need him too. He’s a firm believer that if he didn’t buy it, he shouldn’t have to deal with it.

The shopping trip is usually in the evening time, since he likes to do them after work. Nevertheless he’ll try and be sneaky occasionally by taking you earlier (this is when you end up going grocery shopping).

Damian Wayne

Damian genuinely doesn’t want to go. He’ll tell you to just go with your friends instead. So you’ll have to be cunning to try and inadvertently get him to agree to go shopping with you.

After a date you’ll make sure you walk a specific way past a store you want to go to. When you mention it Damian begrudgingly takes you, because it would be counterintuitive not to take you when you were so close to the store.

You two go to stores sparingly, it’s not something Damian finds necessary- the internet can be just as useful for shopping in his mind. Although you do argue that you can’t try clothes on- which circles back to the ‘just go with you friends’ solution.

Duke Thomas

Duke absolutely loves going shopping with you. He enjoys walking with you and going window shopping. Sometimes the pair of you will go on impromptu shopping sprees just because you saw something you liked in a window.

Your shopping days are well planned out and he’ll be more than happy to take the day off patrol just to be with you- instead he’ll go patrolling in the night.

Duke loves dragging you around various shops and explaining all his interests in intricate details. He’ll have a massive smile on his face the whole time, as he holds up various things to you and explains their relevance.

Duke is more than happy to wait outside changing rooms for you, no matter how long it takes. He’ll try and be nice about all the clothes you show him- if he doesn’t like any he’ll ask you nicely why you want it.

[navybrat817]

Bucky needs to be smothered in kisses. No sex has to follow, just him allowing you to pepper kisses all over his cute face simply for being him and for looking so pretty and cute. Like, "Shut up, Bucky and take it" - proceeded by dozens of kisses 💋💋💋

Bucky deserves all the kisses! How about a little something for our tattoo artist?

What Dreams Are Made Of

Pairing: Tattoo Artist!Bucky Barnes x Baker!Female Reader Summary: You're on Bucky's mind before your date. Word Count: Over 1.5k Warnings: Ki-ssing, Fluff, slight insecurity if you squint, slight feels (it's me), Bucky Barnes (he's a warning, okay?). Graphics talent and thanks: Banner - @sgt-seabass, Divider - @firefly-graphics, Bucky edit - Nix, Moodboard - yours truly A/N: My second Connect 4 (C4007 - Square 1) / Into an Alternate Juneiverse for @buckybarnesevents! Set in my Sin on Skin AU, but can be read as a standalone.❤️ Not beta read and written on my phone, so any and all mistakes are my own. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

Bucky flopped down on the break room couch with a tired smile. He had a hard time sleeping the night before and wanted a little rest before his first client of the day arrived. It didn't surprise him when he struggled to sleep. He could sometimes be a night owl when he wasn't dealing with the occasional nightmare, but last night was different. You consumed his thoughts after he went home.

Every single one of them.

You thinking of me, Sugar? I hope you are.

Hell, you hadn’t left his mind since he first walked into your shop. His beautiful, sweet baker with the warm smile and humor to brighten his day. You looked too pure to be with someone who looked like him. He wasn't blind to the stares he received whenever he went out. With his physique and exposed skin littered with ink, many wrote him off as dangerous without a second thought. They would’ve been shocked to learn he was a bit of a science nerd who loved to read in his spare time or that he served his country alongside his best friend.

Something told him you’d appreciate all those little details about him, especially since you asked him out.

"Wish I was taking you out now, Sugar," he whispered to himself as he shut his eyes.

Bucky didn’t want to admit to himself that he was a little nervous. From his chats with you, he gathered enough of an idea on where it would be good to take you for your first date. He didn’t want it to be generic though. If he couldn’t make it unique, it at least had to be special. Something you’d remember. You deserve the best.

And he wanted to show you he was nothing like your prick of an ex.

"Hey."

The sound of your voice beside him made his eyes open, his heart racing as you smiled. He hadn’t even heard your footsteps. When he tried to sit up, you pushed him to lay back down. The sugary scent that lingered on your skin from the shop had him licking his lips as you moved on top of him. But instead of your normal work clothes and apron, you wore a sundress.

One that was dangerously riding up your hips as you straddled him.

And he was too in awe to stop you.

“How did you get back here?” he whispered, not at all upset that you managed to sneak into the room.

“Steve let me in,” you whispered back, framing his face. He couldn’t decide where to place his hands. He wanted them all over you. “I had a break and couldn’t wait to see you.”

“You saw me last night,” he smirked as you leaned down, your lips dangerously close to his. “Not that I’m complaining.”

While the guys heard all about you and expected to meet you at some point, no one thought you would rush into the shop the way you had. You didn’t know it yet, but they all had a soft spot for you because of Bucky. Even if they didn’t, not a single one of them would’ve put up with how your dick of an ex spoke to you. Respect meant everything in their establishment and any man who talked down to someone the way he had with you had no right to be there.

The fucker made you cry, but I wiped that smug look off his face just for you.

“Too long to wait,” you smiled, your breath skimming his mouth. It paralyzed him as he waited to see what you would do next. “And I know our date isn’t until Friday, but I want to kiss you now.”

“Why do you wanna kiss me?” he smiled because yours was contagious.

“Because I want to thank you.”

“You don’t need to,” he promised. He’d stick up for you no matter what the situation called for. Call him smitten or a decent guy, that was just how he was.

“I want to. I also want to kiss you because you’re pretty. And, yes, you are pretty because I say so,” you teased, which earned an almost bashful smile from him. He was far from pretty, but any sort of compliment from you meant the world. “But mainly because you’re a good man and deserve a kiss.”

“Just a kiss?” he asked as he did his best to keep his hips still. You didn’t just deserve the best date, but you deserve a gentleman as well. Fuck, did he want you though and the things he wanted to do to you were far from innocent. He wondered if you felt through his jeans just how much he did.

“Just a kiss. For now,” you said, closing the gap between the two of you.

There was no hunger or desperation when your tongue slipped past his lips. Even when he deepend the kiss, you didn’t rush. It was soft and tender, but held the promise of something more just like your first kiss had. He wasn’t just a moth drawn to your flame. He carried the fuel and wanted to douse you in it.

Bucky craved to be the one who brought your fire to the surface until it consumed you both.

“Am I dreaming?” he exhaled, finally gripping your hips when you dragged your lips along his face. The featherlight motions were enough to drive him mad, tempting him to flip you over so he could explore your body properly. No, he needed to let you stay in control for now. “Sugar, you’re killing me.”

“And what a way to go, Hottie. So, shut up and take my kisses,” you giggled.

He chuckled as you smothered him with your lips and he took the opportunity to hold you closer. It felt right to have you in his arms. He couldn’t recall the last time he fell for someone so quickly, if ever. What if that scared you?

What if he scared you?

“It’s time to wake up, Bucky,” you whispered in his ear. “I’ll see you soon.”

Bucky’s brows furrowed as you faded from his arms. “Sugar?” he asked. Where did you go?

“Buck, you need to get up!”

Steve’s shout startled Bucky awake and it was a miracle he didn’t fall off the couch. His heart pounded before he realized he had been dreaming. You weren’t in the back room with him. You hadn’t smothered him with gentle kisses.

He was all alone.

“What the fuck?” he whispered, tossling his hair as he sat up.

Figures. It was just a dream, but I’m glad I had it.

“You okay?” Steve asked as he carefully approached his friend. “Hey, I wasn’t trying to scare you. Called your name a couple of times and that didn’t do the trick. Didn’t think I should touch you either.”

“I’m fine. Thanks,” Bucky huffed a little. Both of them had their share of nightmares after being overseas. Steve wouldn’t have yelled his name if he thought something was wrong, so he must’ve appeared peaceful enough. Peace. That was what you gave him, even if his jeans felt a little tighther and uncomfortable.

“You need a minute?” the blonde smirked when Bucky adjusted a bit.

“Why did you wake me?” he replied, avoiding his question. The guys knew well enough how crazy he was about you and didn’t need to know he was dreaming about you in the shop. “I’m sure it was extremely important.”

“Because your client should be here in a few minutes and I wanted to make sure you didn’t sleep through the appointment. So, yeah, extremely important.”

With a nod, Bucky slowly got to his feet. “Space is already cleaned and disinfected. Stencil’s done, too,” he said. He liked to prepare as much as he could and they prided themselves on having a clean and safe workspace. “Um, Sugar hasn’t stopped by, has she?”

Steve shook his head. “No, she hasn’t,” he answered, giving Bucky a small smile when he frowned. He knew all about the date. “But Friday is just around the corner if you don’t see her before then.”

He tried not to feel disappointment and swore he could still smell the sugary scent of you in the air. It must’ve lingered on the couch from when you were there the night before. He wished he could have that smell on his pillows and sheets. “I like her.”

“I know you do. We all do,” Steve said, leaning against the wall. “We even told Hal he wasn’t allowed to go into the bakery out of fear that she’d fall for his charm,” he added with a wink.

I’m charming, too.

“No, punk,” he said, not wanting to be more vulnerable than he already had. “I really like her.”

The playful look on Steve’s face fell, replaced with something softer. “I know, jerk. And I think she really likes you, too. So be the good guy we know you are and sweep her off her feet.”

That’s exactly what Bucky planned to do.

Bucky, our hearts are yours! Check out more of Hottie and Sugar wiht Sweet and Strong. Love and thanks for reading! 💙

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