#mr blonde preference
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newwavesylviaplath · 5 months ago
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i had a heart attack today. i want her so bad.
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jrueships · 1 year ago
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sometimes i'll think abt a Fandom and wish it were bigger, and sometimes i'll read something from a fandom.. and wish it were smaller
#ppl seeing a confident black man : FINALLY! A PERFECT ANTAGONIST FOR OUR STORY!#THE CORRUPTOR!! THE ASSHOLE! MR KNOWS ALL!#i want to be bigger into football. i rlly do#but . omg. sometimes seeing just So Much . side eye shit is . like imagine my exhaustion#and this isnt me trying to be the behavior police like let ppl write but sometimes seeing such. Fun. patterns can be like#idk man it's sad like damn thats rlly how the world is and obvs i KNOW how it can be but it's real wack#real wack being reminded even in ur supposed happy place ur supposed lighthearted little break from the world#it's still not . idk. it's just not#oh the poor pale blond qb just a little anxious baby oh and his evil zany teammates trying to corrupt him oh theyre so terrible for my angel#:/#.. that is. a Grown. Man .#it's like replaying my 2nd grade teacher ******** me bcs i was a troublesome kid and it made her feel young and alive and bad again#like wtf am i corrupting you with maam? skibbity toliet ? leave me alone !!#listen. if it were smthing like 'x rlly likes tomatoes' when he actually likes idk carrots? i would not give a fuck. infact i prefer carrots#but bad patterns have smthing more to say bcs patterns in general have a story#it's more than 'he would not fucking say that' it's 'WHY tf are YOU making HIM say THAT of ALL people & THINGS???'#like i love having asshole characters in my stories too. and they can be poc ! NO ONE is a saint!#but having one just to fuel the only one u actually care abt? having their problems solely be for plot?? & making that one#a SPECIFIC kind of person ?? is kinda giving me 'u dont view x as a human which could mean you dont view x race as humans'#WHICH IS !! IT SUCKS ! THAT SUCKS!#i know i need to just suck it up and ignore it but thats like the life quote of being poc isnt it#ugh#it sucks
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littlemissvincentvega · 2 years ago
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can you plssss do nsfw hcs of Reservoir Dogs? maybe their favourite position? if this is uncomfortable u dont need to write this! no pressure xx
the reservoir dogs & their favourite positions
a/n: thank you for the request babe i'm sorry i didn't do it right away i kind of suck at getting to them but i'm remembering how much i love writing!!! enjoy 🥰🥰
18+ explicit content / reservoir dogs x reader
cw: references to p in v sex, oral (f and m receiving), bdsm, slapping, spanking
mr. white / larry dimmick:
larry is kind of an oldschool guy in general, so i feel like missionary would be his thing. he likes to be able to see his girl's pretty face when he fucks her, and it gives him the freedom to be rough and dirty or slow and passionate. if it's the former, he'll pause every so often to lean down and kiss her forehead for taking him so well 🥺
mr. orange / freddy newandyke:
freddy just SCREAMS cowgirl to me. he likes to be able to see all of his girl, tits bouncing in his face and every inch of his cock buried in her sweet pussy. maybe he's just a lazy bitch? it gives him the freedom to touch her everywhere, though-- squeezing her ass, her hips, waist, kneading her breasts and pressing kisses to them while she rides him. he usually brings his thumb to her clit so he can see her face when she comes. that's a sight he never gets bored of
mr. brown:
idk why but i feel like brown likes a rope bunny. he likes to tie his girl up and i can see him enjoying her being hog-tied, him kneeling beside the bed so he can eat her pussy or facefuck her. but bondage aside he likes missionary, with his girl's legs in the air and her feet resting on his shoulders (i think you know why 🦶🦶😏)
mr. pink:
pink is sort of obsessed with eating his girl's pussy, so his favourite position is between her legs with his arms around her thighs. that way he can look up and see her face, see the ecstasy he's bringing to her with his tongue. he's also a fan of facesitting. it makes him sooo fuckin hard when his girl comes on his face and he's practically suffocated by her cunt. this guy has a magic tongue and i think we all know it
mr. blonde / vic vega:
woah okay this kinky motherfucker where do i even begin?? vic likes to slap during sex so doggy style is his go-to. it gives him the freedom to grab his girl's hips or waist so he can fuck her as hard as he likes (and trust me, he likes to POUND into that pussy) and slap her ass so hard she can't sit comfortably for a week. sometimes he'll bring his arm around her torso and clamp his hand around her throat, hold her upright and grunt dirty things into her ear. he's still proud of her being such a good girl, though, and sometimes he'll kiss the little patch of skin behind her ear
'nice guy' eddie cabot:
eddie is sort of a wild card when it comes to positions. he likes cowgirl because he's lazy and likes his girl's tits in his face, he likes fucking her from behind so he can slap her ass, he likes missionary so he can get as deep in her pussy as he wants. it all depends on the mood he's in. i also think eddie would like doggy style in front of a mirror so he can see his girl's face while he pounds her, it reeeeallly gets him off. another thing about eddie? he loves when his girl gets on her knees for him and begs for him to come all over her face and tits, it drives him feral 🥵
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fashionandpinkglitter · 1 year ago
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Supermodel Monique Desiree Taitague
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imaginesbymk · 2 years ago
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RESERVOIR DOGS PREFERENCE
PUTTING (EUPHORIA) MAKEUP ON THEM
Characters: Mr. White (Larry), Mr. Orange (Freddy Newandyke), Mr. Blonde (Vic Vega), Mr. Pink, Mr. Brown + “Nice Guy” Eddie 
Tags: swearing, tarantino characters not appreciating the beauty of makeup ??
Taglist: @locke-writes​ & @aryn-the-bearheart​
A/N: i am currently planning a reservoir dogs/pulp fiction x OC AU fic that's euphoria-themed, but i feel like its just hyper fixation and my untreated adhd will just make me abandon it entirely and bounce back to fixating on HBO war fics :P enjoy and leave a like/reblog/feedback <33 ^.^
( i added links to the makeup looks they have lol! its highlighted so you will see )
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━︎ MR. WHITE ( LARRY DIMMICK )
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He thinks you're joking, but you're so serious
Mr. White laughs out loud. "C'mon. Don't do that to me, y/n. I'll wear those things the day aliens land and go clubbing in L.A."
One time he's so drunk from the bar that he comes home and gets too curious when he sees you organizing your makeup station. "All right, I'll bite. Make me look like a doll."
He's not sober so he moves too much, and you're struggling.
"Finally done!"
He checks the vanity. You went simple but bold on graphic eyeliner. "Ho-ly shit!" He laughs. "I could pick up women and men at the bar if I went out like this earlier."
━︎ MR. ORANGE ( FREDDY NEWANDYKE )
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Freddy has a nice eye shape, so you decide to give him a smokey eye look with glitter tears
He lowkey doesn't mind it, he knows he's good looking so why not add more shine to it?
"Stop moving, Freddy. You'll make me mess up."
He checks the mirror. "How do you come up with this?"
You take a lot of photos of him, and he keeps it on for the whole day that he'll forget that he's wearing makeup
Officer Holdaway from the police department visits him at the apartment with some case files he picked up for him. "What the FUCK happened to you, man?"
━︎ MR. BLONDE ( VIC VEGA )
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He thinks it's too girly, and would only appreciate it if it was worn on someone attractive
Mr. Blonde mainly likes red lipstick and loves it when you leave lipstick stains on him
You're actually worried that he'll touch his face too much that it'll ruin his makeup (he touches his face too much)
He's so annoyed that he finally gives in and lets you experiment.
You let him choose the colours on the palette. "I dunno, that one."
He hums when he looks in the mirror. "Yeah. It's cool." He kinda likes it, but he immediately makes you wipe it all off.
━︎ MR. PINK
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There is absolutely no way Pink is ever gonna wear makeup, let alone let you put a dab of blush on him
He will literally swat your hand away and try to throw you off the couch when you pounce on his lap with a powder brush in your hand
He's passed out on the couch and you slowly and carefully apply pink liner on him
He wakes up all groggy, annoyed, and confused as to why you're smiling and laughing so devilishly. "What's the fuckin' matter with you?" He goes into the bathroom and looks in the mirror. "Y/N L/N YOU ARE SO DEAD."
━︎ MR. BROWN
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Brown will only say yes as long as you don't make him go out in public
"Fine," he huffs. "But I want a Madonna glam."
You agreed because he couldn't stop talking about Like A Virgin the whole day.
As he's watching you look at the eyeshadow palette, you decide on the neon colours for the 80s vibe.
"I can't believe I'm actually doing this," he says to you.
He keeps bombarding you with questions about the brushes. "There's a whole routine to makeup?! Jesus."
"I guess I do feel kinda pretty," he chuckles to himself in the mirror.
He messes up his makeup because he kept scratching his eyes!!!!
━︎ NICE GUY EDDIE ( EDDIE CABOT )
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"No fuckin' way, y/n. Do I look like a lab rat?"
"I promise I'll make it look cool." You bribe him to do it. You'll do extra hours with Dove if he lets you do his makeup.
He's in his office chair and you're sitting cross-legged on his desk, working on his face like an artist with their canvas.
He's sweating and constantly checks the door because anyone can walk in, even Joe or the Dogs, and see him wearing makeup. He would have to crawl into a turtle shell and go into hiding for the rest of his life if his Dad caught him.
"Jesus, are you almost done?"
"Just about done." You put the lid back. "Do you like it?"
He checks the tiny mirror on the wall. "Oh." He nods. "Did you superglue gems on my face?!"
The door opens. Mr. Blonde is standing there, jaw dropped on the floor.
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mametupa · 1 year ago
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Supermodel Monique Desiree Taitague
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webism · 2 months ago
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pornstar!nanami who has a signature style to his videos—all of which are solo content consisting of him, manspreading in front of the camera in an awfully expensive suit. as his hands trace the muscles of his thighs, the seams of his trousers, the outline of his hardened cock.
pornstar!nanami who always takes his time getting to the good stuff, his voice silken as he speaks to those watching him. praise falls from his lips, which are always just out of view—the man doesn't dare show his face. something about professionalism and all.
pornstar!nanami whose videos usually end with him cumming into his closed fist, or into a toy if he's feeling so inclined. as a long time viewer of him, you've come to learn a few things about how he orgasms—he always bucks his hips up, chasing that instinct to breed. he always moans like he's in heat just before his climax, but because he's not great with breathing through his orgasms he chokes up just as he falls over the edge—it's a pretty sound.
pornstar!nanami who sometimes gets messy with it—he's such an organised and ritualistic man in his day-to-day that he sometimes just wants to let loose. sometimes, he'll only pull his cock out of his pants through the fly, and let the world watch as his precum dribbles all over those pressed pants of his. oh and does he go feral knowing that he's dirtying something so expensive with the receipts of his lust. who will stroke himself to completion just to watch his cum stain the fabric he's worked so hard to afford—there's no explaining that away to a drycleaner.
pornstar!nanami who likes to imagine it's a pretty thing riding his thigh that wrecks his trousers. wonders how many of his viewers touch themselves to his videos, hoping the could take him for all he's worth as well.
pornstar!nanami who, after a particularly messy session one day, gets an email after uploading his video. it's not even been ten minutes, which was the length of his video, so he assumes whoever has emailed him came particularly fast to that one.
pornstar!nanami who was more than right in his assumption. because as his eyes rake over the email sent by an adoring fan, he sees about a million different typos that indicate nothing other than messy fingers and a fucked-dumb typist. in your barely legible email, you explain that Mr. Nanamis videos are tagged 'near-you', and you'd happily offer your services as the next sex toy he uses to fuck-and-film in exchange for an orgasm or three.
and oh is pornstar!nanami intrigued. because his life is a busy one, he's a businessman when the sun is up time is precious and human connection is a scheduling conflict—his videos aren't solo out of preference, poor nanami, the pornstar, is a virgin.
pornstar!nanami who, after a few weeks of back and forth and some genuine conversation, ends up with his camera flashing red as you sit naked on his lap. and oh are you happy with the sight of him, blonde and sculpted to perfection underneath those lovely suits of his. Your ass is on display to anyone watching, upper half out of shot as your teeth clash with his.
pornstar!nanami who can't help the sounds he makes when you grind against his clothed cock. your slick, your pooling lust, it smears over the fabric of his pants and leaves a gloss behind in turn. he's ravenous, holding onto your hips and grinding you down against him in all the right ways. who moans into your mouth, already a little pussydrunk and he's barely had a taste of you.
pornstar!nanami who hopes he isn't unseemly in the way he manhandles you to sit properly on his lap. he knows you're as desperate as he is, what with the way you slip your hands down to undo his belt and pull his cock free. your fingers wrapped around his length is enough of a narcotic to cum on the spot, though he steadies his reeling mind and holds out.
pornstar!nanami who offers to fuck you on his fingers first, to use his tongue to warm you up and get you ready for his, frankly overbearing, size. but you're insistent, eager, and lowering yourself onto his aching cock with a kiss to his lips and a sharp inhale shared between you.
pornstar!nanami who thanks whatever god may be out there for letting him film a glimpse of heaven.
pornstar!nanami who can barely keep himself together as you ride him like he's the toy at hand. he's sure he's never been this vocal for his viewers, moaning alone is a feat that is hot at best and hauntingly awkward at worst—this, though—he's never been so mindless. and you love it. all the videos you've watched where his voice is smooth and confident and he's the picture of put-together. having such a man, a gentleman like nanami, absolutely melting with each clench of your dripping pussy around his length? it's an aphrodisiac in itself.
and when you catch onto the fact that pornstar!nanami is about to cum—the bucking of his hips, those drawling moans, the hitch of his breath—you kiss him stupid, and then speak against his pretty swollen lips. 'breathe'
and oh does pornstar!nanami breathe. a desperate droning moan escapes his breath, right into your mouth as he empties himself inside of you like he's trying to give you his last name.
pornstar!nanami who can't help himself. flipping you over and onto your back, pressing you into the mattress as he continues to fuck into you. he's going to pull as many orgasms out of you as he can—it doesn't even register in his mind that, due to the new angle of your bodies, he's just let the world see his face, and the pretty pussy drunk blush that paints it pink.
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evilgwrl · 3 months ago
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ExHusband!Simon x Reader
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You Want a Divorce? (One)
Note: I'm having the WORST writer's block now so pls excuse my lack of proper writing... I'm currently sitting in front of a beach writing in hopes that ill gain inspo
CW: Angst, mentions of sex, jealous/possessive Simon, PLS DONT LEAVE YOUR KIDS IN THE CAR !!! Or break into someone’s house
Inspired by: Ex!Husband Simon
PART TWO
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Simon stared at you. The shades of his eyes simmering into endless voids of obsidian, blonde lashes moulded against his greased lids, the residue of the perpetual torture his body had succumbed to during deployment.
“You want a divorce?” He spoke, voice deep as he flickered between your shaking heads, sweat soiling into the papers gripped firmly and your swollen face, cheeks feverish with a red hue, eyes even more so.
You held back a rough sob, throat stripped of all moisture evident in your hoarse voice as you spoke, “Yes, Simon. I think it would be best for our family… for us.”
He scoffed. “You think the best thing for our family is to separate?”
“We already pretty much are. You’re away for days, weeks, months at a time. We’re hardly a family and it’s difficult to explain to the children why I’m crying.”
“Ok then.”
That was it. You would admit, it stung. His lacklustre tone felt like a stab in the gut, the blade drenched with anthrax as it reared blistering sores internally, the effects having shown through your putrid complexion. Your skin was dull, practically lifeless, the only living form of you grew day by day through the darkening of eyebags that almost made you look apocalyptic.
It had been 12 months of separation, officially 8 being legally divorced. You kept his last name, the permanent burn of hearing Mrs Riley still searing through you with every syllable, yet you feel it would only hurt you more if they said Ms.
Simon was often away now, and the minimal family time he used to get felt pointless as the shabby apartment he moved into after the sudden interference of your mind-boggling news barely fit the two kids you shared. His body felt more relentless on him, the taunting of his mind fulgurated the inoperative reality that he would come home to you, to his family.
His voice, almost like it dropped an octave had grown richer in aggression, tormenting those he deemed suitable, both with his tongue and with his bruised knuckles, an oil painting of blue and purple hues radiating across the pale flesh as he shrugged it off to his team as “pushing himself and others to do better”.
Couldn’t you realise your mistake? Wouldn’t you prefer crying in his arms about his absence than never having it fulfilled again?
As he looked around the bleak environment, tan stained walls revolting the creaking mattress he had brought someone home to, someone who wasn’t you. It made him feel sick like a viral infection had slunk its way into his bloodstream as he laid next to a woman that failed to make his cock throb, endless images of you sprawled out under him flickering. No wonder he called out your name instead.
You felt the familiar shake of your hands every time your phone dinged; Simon’s dreary tone was evident through his dry “On the way” text. You ushered a day of your children’s life into their cartoon-themed backpacks, innocent smiles adorning their skin, doe-like eyes of brown, far too familiar to Simon’s staring up at you.
The sound of his car scraping into your paved driveway almost made you feel like throwing up, the nerves of seeing him combined with the already present pit of anxiety due to your date later turning you into one big shaky mess as you brushed it off as “too much caffeine”.
The echo of his car door slamming shut rung through your ears, staining you with the reiteration that your ex-husband was now at your door, heavy fists knocking upon the wood. The image you saw of him in your mind morphed back to reality as you stared at him, a blank expression on your face.
“Hi, love.”
“Hi, Simon.”
Your frown was clear, the pet name you were so used to becoming a distant memory in the past few months. It was a hole you were attempting to fill, to clear yourself away from his teasing tongue and faux impression of a healthy relationship. You were divorced for a reason, you knew that, but as you gazed upon the lack of life in his skin, it was almost like he was holding a mirror up to you.
“Daddy!” You watched as your 5-year-old, Ella, practically leapt into his hefty frame, his hands coiling around her like second nature. You could feel his warmth, the heat that would build in your stomach when you felt those same digits touch you.
“Hi sweetheart,” his voice gruff, yet tone lighter as he placed a delicate kiss on the skin of her forehead, “You miss me?”
She nodded, her face buried in the hem of his neck as your other child cooed from the bouncy chair, tubby legs attempting to wheel himself to the door.
“There’s my boy,” Simon practically cooed as he placed Ella down, bounding inside as he lifted the toddler out, grabby arms reaching out to pull at Simon’s locks, gentle tugs causing you to laugh.
Your voice cut through the scene like glass. Why would you want to destroy such a happy moment? Weren’t you supposed to be reuniting? Just say it, tell Simon you want him to come home, that you need him.
“This is Ella’s bag,” you speak, holding up the pink Minnie Mouse bag, “And this is Toby’s.” Your son giggled as he muffled out the words, “Transformers”.
Simon nodded, “Are you doing anything tonight?”
Ella practically screeched, “Mummy’s going on a date!” The thrill of her laughter that followed only seemed to make the situation more awkward.
“A date?” Simon’s voice was deadly, the hair raising on your arms as you shook your head, a tight smile on your suddenly dry lips.
“No, no, nothing like that. Just catching up with an old colleague of mine.”
“But he’s a boy, Mummy,” Ella giggled. Who was raising your daughter to be such a big mouth? Your face formed an annoyed look, eyebrows raising as a line of wrinkles crinkled against your forehead, your pointer fingers massaging your temples.
“An old colleague?” Simon practically gasped. Had he met him at your old work Xmas parties?
“Let’s get you guys in the car.” You fumbled with Toby’s car seat as you strapped him in, your nimble fingers shaking with anxiety before you shut the door, pressing a kiss against the window before wiping away the minimal residue of dirt. Gross.
“Who is he?” His tone was acerbic like he was looking for an argument. How dare you try and replace him? He was your husband, the father of your two kids? Have you seen this random man before? Had he fucked you?
“God, Simon-“
“Who is he?” Simon was relentless, bullying his way into getting the answers as his arms folded across his chest, tattoos practically screaming at you too.
“His name’s Andrew. I ran into him at a coffee shop a few weeks back and he just wanted to catch up. That’s it.”
A loud scoff sounded in the air. “You mean that geezer from that corporate job you hated? The one who didn’t know it was weird to blatantly stare down your dress when you were standing next to your fucking husband?”
“He didn’t stare down my dress! You’re not my husband anymore, Simon. I can see who I want.”
“I don’t want our children to grow up thinking they have multiple dads.”
You’ll admit, that stung.
“Multiple dads? You’re out of your mind. The only reason they would ever believe they have multiple dads is if their real one stopped showing up. And where have you been, Simon? When have you shown up?”
Simon held his tongue, the warmth of the metallic taste gashing through his teeth as he practically snarled past you. “I’ll bring them back tomorrow.”
The dress you wore was practically suffocating you as you tucked your stomach in. Simon never minded the change in your figure after motherhood, he found himself liking it even more. He loved knowing that his seed put you through that, that he made you swell with his children, and he brought out the glow in your cheeks and the delicate stretch marks that laced your hips.
Andrew was nice. His tone was comforting as he walked to your door, ushering you to his car as he insisted you could order whatever you wanted. He was handsome, the salt and pepper hues of his hair settling your insecurity.
“We’ll take the Pinot Noir,” he spoke, looking at you with an almost arrogant sheer in his blue eyes. You only liked white. Simon knew that just like he knew everything about y-
You’re not with Simon anymore. You had to realise that. Maybe that’s why you brought Andrew home, let him shove his cock (that was a lot smaller than what you were used to) inside your heat, as you let out moans you had mimicked from the porn you watched with the actor that resembled far too much of your ex-husband.
Simon's fingers gripped the steering wheel early the next morning, your two children snuggled up in the backseat as he drove back to his old house, your old home. He wasn’t a man who gave up easy, he would show you, prove to you that you made a mistake. You needed each other.
Hold on. You don’t drive a red car?
His car lurched into the entrance of your home, nearly ramming into the garage as he shoved it in park, rolling down the two back windows slightly for air as he dug around in the small side compartment of his car.
The familiar gold key he had stolen from you the night he packed up all his stuff stared back at him, practically egging him on. Go on Simon, march in there. So he did. His hand rattled against the door knob, glancing back to peak into the car for a second before he slammed the door shut.
Your body froze. Were you being robbed? No. It was only Simon. A very angry-looking Simon. You stood, the white sheet barely shielding your naked body as he took in the sight of the man next to you, his hands wrapping around his shoulders as he practically ripped him out of bed, flinging him onto the floor as he grunted, eyes reared with hatred.
“Simon, what the fuck are you doing? WHERE ARE THE KIDS?”
Andrew groaned, on the floor, covering his groin as Simon chucked the masculine clothes at his head, the thin boxers soiled across the man’s scalp as he trembled.
“Our kids are asleep in the car, waiting for their Mummy to come to the zoo with them.” Simon’s words were despicable, laced with an acrimonious tone, small particles of spit seething through his lips as stared at you.
He turned to the man, a giant frame staggering over the top of him. “Get the fuck out, and if you wake up our kids when you go past, I will personally put a bullet straight in the middle of your skull,” he said, pushing a thick digit against his forehead as Andrew rushed out, clothes barely on before you felt the front door shut, a cry of apologises leaving your lips as you tried to assist him but Simon only held you back, a tight grip coiling around your arm.
“What the fuck was that? How’d you get in?” You couldn’t even place the words to say, humiliation roaring through you as you snuggled the sheet closer to you, away from his peering eyes.
“It’s time to be a family again, don’t you think love?”
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hamilando · 5 months ago
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ੈ✩ don’t cry at my wedding (smau) ੈ✩
pairing : charles leclerc x russell !fem reader
summary : the siblings realising that the sister has grown a little to much
tw : emotional, friends being chaotic!
fc: Martha Hunt *she is so pretty-*
a/n : thank you so much to @xshazxx for suggesting this ! lysm 🫶🏻
·:。・゚゚・ ✩ ・゚ ・゚·:。・゚゚・ ・゚·:。・゚゚・ ✩ ・゚ ・゚·:。・゚゚・・゚·:。・゚゚・ ✩ ・゚ ・゚·:。・゚゚
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liked by georgerussell, lewishamilton, mercedesamgf1, charlesleclerc and 67,937 others
mercedesomg Blondes do it better 🫷🏻
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georgerussell do what better little miss sister ?
mercedesomg anything you would like to imagine 😗
user1 DO IT BETTER GURL 💪🏻
user2 blonde is really your color 📷
lewishamilton the color suits you !!
mercedesomg my favourite brother 🫶🏻
georgerussell EXCUSE ME WHAT !?
maxverstappen1 george is currently screaming gibberish in the lounge
carmenmmundt dw, omw to pick him up 🏃🏻‍♀️‍➡️
user3 the spain air hitting ✨
user4 it hit ferrari a little to hard
lilyhye I told you blonde was your color ✊🏻
mercedesomg well, thank you lily AND ALEX
alex.albon thank god you didn’t forget 👀
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liked by mercedesamgf1, lewishamilton, georgerussell and 94,237 others
mercedesomg running a mercedes powered account 🫶🏻💪🏻
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lewishamilton you are disowned from the position of my sister
mercedesomg NO, lewis appreciation post coming up ! 🫶🏻
user1 MY EYES
user2 MY HEART
user3 MY BRAIN
user4 i love how she posted thirsty pics of the russells and a meme of lewis
mercedesamgf1 we stan this user 🙌🏻
liked by mercedesomg
georgerussell are you alright ? do you need to go the hospital ? you posting a good pic of me !?
mercedesomg shut up and accept it 🫷🏻
georgerussell also, why would you post a half naked picture of yourself !?
mercedesomg you are literally naked showing your tatas
user5 the russell siblings are literally kids every parent would dread to have
user6 imagine them fighting
landonorris you don’t want to see that
user6 LANDO REPLIED TO ME !?
lilihye i am blinded by the watermelons on my screen
mercedesomg LILY, BABE WE ARE IN PUBLIC, DON’T EXPOSE US
lilihye oh sheesh 🫢
user7 lili is us ✊🏻
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liked by user1, user2, user3 and 178,937 others
f1wags The Russell sister is engaged !? or is it just part of her look !?
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user1 now even wearing a ring is dangerous 💀
user2 bro it’s just a ring
user3 SHE IS ENAGAGED!?
user4 it’s literally just a ring, her stylist must have made her wear it !
user5 if she is engaged, i am stanning haas 🫷🏻
user6 you will regret it brother
user7 do we have any candidates for her beau ?
user8 Lewis ?
user9 you did not-
user10 oh lord, if she saw this
user11 LEWIS IS LITERALLY LIKE A BROTHER TO HER !
user12 Lili?
user13 possible 🫣
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liked by charlesleclerc, lewishamilton, georgerussell and 357,285 others
mercedesomg I look better in red 🙌🏻🌶️
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user1 I TOLD YOU Y’ALL ITS LEWIS
user2 mate 💀
user3 brother 💀
georgerussell did you just leave me and lewis for that short ass kid ?
mercedesamgf1 and toto
mercedesomg wait till you all see the username change 😗
user4 HOLD UP! WE MISSED A WHOLE CENTURY MISS !?
user5 SHE IS ENGAGED !? OH LORD, I have to stan haas !?
scuderiaferrari welcome to the family ❤️
mercedesomg aww, thank you 🥹
carlossainz55 it really does suit you!
liked by mercedesomg
user6 what is the username change !?
user7 END OF AN ERA 😭
landonorris charles, you did good
user8 for what 👀
user9 oh hell nah…
charlesleclerc i would prefer you looking nude ☺️
georgerussell MATE THATS MY SISTER
lewishamilton you better behave with her, future team-mate
charlesleclerc SHE IS MY FIANCE
charlesleclerc i see you lewis 👀
mercedesomg and i see you mr. leclerc, you are sleeping on couch
charlesleclerc WHY !?
lilihye bad choice charles
maxverstappen bad choice charles
landonorris bad choice charles
pieregasly bad choice charles
mercedesomg you spoiled my hard launch 😗
user10 SHE AND CHARLES !?
user11 talk about plot twist
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y/nleclerc It’s Mrs. Leclerc 🫷🏻
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georgerussell * it will be
georgerussell Y/N THE USERNAME STILL HAS SOME TIME
charlesleclerc not for long 🤷🏻‍♂️
georgerussell she is still a russell 💪🏻
charlesleclerc do i smell jealousy ?
landonorris he is sulking about the idea of y/n getting married
maxverstappen1 now lando mentioned it, he is crying
lewishamilton now y/n is calling him and he is trying to act all ok
mercedesomg and now he is crying in front of me
georgerussell you all didn’t have to expose me like that
lilihye so happy for you both !!!
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arthurleclerc welcome to the fam sis!
liked by y/nleclerc
lewishamilton you grew up so fast, even i have tears in my eyes
y/nleclerc i will always be your little kid ❤️
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y/nleclerc To the brother I got from my mother and the one I got from Toto ( quite literally ), just so you both know, I will always be your little kid. Thank you for being there for me and giving me the reassurance that despite the numerous pranks snd fights, I can always to come to you both with crying eyes or my yapping mouth and you would always welcome me with a warm hug. Georgey, I grew up with you and I know I never say this much but I love you very much and am very proud of you, from your first podium in karting to your first win F1. Lewis, I first met you in 2019 when I was just a teenager and the first thing I asked you was for the picture ( I was meeting a f1 world champion, ofc I had to get a picture) but I didn’t know then that half my gallery would be filled with our pictures. Thank you for always being there like a brother, like a friend, like a mentor and like a punching bag ( that’s a story for another day ).
To both my brothers, I love you and just changing my surname won’t take me away from you ❤️ and you both know Charles pretty well, so if we have a fight, you both surely know who to run over 🫶🏻
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cleo-fox · 1 year ago
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Close Quarters
Part 2 of 2
(Part 1)
Summary: The thrilling conclusion to Part 1.
Pairing: Loki x Fem Reader
Warnings: Smut, 18+ (Minors DNI), dirty talk, praise kink, fingering, elevator sex, a hint of dom/sub, Dom Loki, Reader gets a little bratty, little bit of a sir kink, cunnilingus, blow jobs, filth.
A/N: I know I usually choose a Loki GIF but Thomas Sharpe seemed…more appropriate. I’ve got a couple more one shots with these idiots, so if you want to see more, lemme know.
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Mercifully, the hallway is empty.
You imagine that your exit from the elevator looks as scandalous as what happened inside it. You are draped in Loki’s arms, still out of breath and a little glassy eyed from the two earth shattering orgasms that he’d given you only minutes prior. In contrast, Loki looks relatively put together and intently focused, like there’s nothing more important on this earth than getting you both back to your suite as quickly as possible. That thought gives you a bit of a thrill—the idea of you wanting him is not necessarily new or unusual, but the idea that he might want you just as much is utterly thrilling.
It occurs to you that you’re in rather close proximity to his neck and it seems like a shame to let that opportunity go to waste. You press your lips against the pulse point in his throat and lazily make your way along his jaw. His breath hitches when you catch his earlobe between your teeth.
“Are you trying to ensure that I take you in the hallway, Mrs. Pine?” he says, his voice dropping deep.
“I won’t be able to scream for you in the hallway,” you breathe into his ear, “and I kinda think you want that.”
“Minx,” he growls, picking up his pace just slightly as you resume kissing his neck.
“I take it that means I’m right,” you say. “Or that I’m in for it when we get back to the room.”
He chuckles. “Oh, it’s both, darling.”
You shiver and nip at his earlobe once more.
Loki drops the glamor as soon as the door to your room shuts behind you and while you like the cropped blond hair of Jonathan Pine, there is something about his natural long, dark locks that drives you wild.
“Let’s me make two things clear, Agent,” he says as he carries you into the bedroom. “First: there are no covers in here; I want you screaming my name when you come. Second—” he sets you down at the foot of the bed. “—I want to taste your pretty cunt.”
Heat and tension coil in your hips. “I can agree to both of those things.”
“Good. Undress.”
He watches as you slowly strip off your swimsuit, his eyes greedy and hungry. Once you’re completely naked, he gives himself a moment to look you over in full, unconsciously licking his lips when his gaze falls on your breasts and hips, his eyes devouring every inch of you. Finally, he nods at the foot of the bed. “Sit.”
You sit down on the bed and he begins unbuttoning his shirt. He takes his time and you watch, enraptured by the slow reveal of his well-muscled chest and taut, flat stomach. The shirt is discarded on the floor with your swimsuit. He undoes his belt, then the button and zip on his shorts.
He’s wearing black boxer briefs, which surprises you—you had assumed that his preference was likely to go commando. But honestly, the boxer briefs are so fitted that the effect is essentially the same: they cling to every dip and swell and leave absolutely nothing to the imagination. The material is taut across his thighs and his cock strains hard at the fabric. If pressed, you could probably create a reasonably accurate sketch based on this view alone.
You don’t have terribly long to contemplate this, though—he kneels in front of you, pulling you in for a slow kiss, his large hands cupping your breasts. His kiss is thorough and sensual, but the addition of his hands kneading your breasts and gently teasing and pinching the sensitive skin of your nipples may actually send you into the stratosphere.
And then he lowers his mouth to your breast and you lose the ability to form coherent thoughts. He strokes his tongue lazily on your nipple in slow circles, lightly teasing the hardened bud with his teeth and bringing another flood of slick arousal to your cunt. Your hips rock fruitlessly against nothing, seeking friction to ease the throbbing pulse of your clit.
You sigh, letting your eyes close and your head tip back, your fingers tangling in his hair. After a moment, you reach for his free hand and guide it between your legs. His fingers dip between your legs, collecting your slickness and gently rolling against your clit.
You moan and he draws back, eyes dark. “Lie back,” he says softly.
You recline on the bed and his focus shifts to you spread out before him. “Lovely,” he says. He is being sincere—and there’s a power in that that thrills you, that sends even more heat and slick to your aching cunt.
When he’s looked his fill, he brings both of your legs over his broad shoulders. He lowers his head to your cunt slowly, first dipping down to inhale your scent and then with one wicked grin, slipping the warm blade of his tongue between your folds.
Your exhale is shaky and turns into a soft whine in the back of your throat as he licks a long, broad stripe from your entrance up to your clit.
“Fuck, Loki.” His name falls from your lips unbidden. You prop yourself up on your elbows and drink in the sight of him between your legs, head bowed like he is worshiping at the most sacred and solemn altar.
In the elevator, he was determined to make you come as quickly as possible; now, though, in the privacy of your room, he seems intent on taking his time and building you up achingly slowly. His tongue laves over your clit at a leisurely pace, teasing and tasting and sucking until he finds the rhythm and movement that makes you try to press your quaking thighs together because it feels so incredible. He gently presses your legs back open, keeping you spread and fully at the mercy of the rolling waves of pleasure that his mouth is creating. One of his long and elegant fingers slides inside of you and curls, pressing against that sweet, soft spot that makes your hips buck and your eyes roll to the back of your head.
When a second finger joins the first a few minutes later, you know that it won’t be much longer. Loki looks up at you, lust-glazed eyes glittering like he knows that too.
You approach the edge slowly, your breath coming in rolling gasps, your hands gripping his hair. He watches you, his gaze both hungry and mischievous. You bite your lip, breath stuttering as you furrow your brow against that final ascent.
And then the tension finally snaps and your head tips back as you tumble off the edge and into your climax, your free fall as decadent and shiver-inducing as the beautifully slow buildup.
You don’t manage to gasp his name because the concept of words has fled you entirely and the only sound that escapes your lips is a sharp cry. From the glint in his eye and the low groan of approval offered against your clit, Loki doesn’t seem to mind at all.
The aftershocks roll through you in rippling waves that make your toes curl and it takes you a moment to catch your breath.
“I confess, I’m quite tempted to stay here all night,” says Loki, placing a gentle kiss on your clit. “You have the sweetest cunt.”
“I bet you say that to all the girls,” you say, your words slurred with pleasure.
“Hardly.” He licks you very slowly from your entrance to your clit and you sigh, running your fingers through his hair. He repeats the same circuit twice more.
“In fact,” he murmurs, placing another kiss on your clit, “I think I may need another taste.” Another lingering kiss, his tongue teasing your entrance. You suck in a shuddering breath.
“One more.” Another long stroke of his tongue and you shiver again.
“Darling, I’m so sorry—” a quick kiss to your clit, “—but I think I’m going to have to make you come again. I'm simply famished.”
Your back arches and you moan as his mouth once again envelopes your clit and his fingers slide back inside you, curling into that soft, sweet spot. You’re a little sensitive, but he’s moving with such achingly perfect precision that you can already feel another orgasm starting to build in your hips.
The ascent is much quicker this time, and you soon find yourself whimpering and panting, your hands tangling again in his hair. He groans against you and you swear you feel the vibrations shimmer all along your aching core.
“Please,” you moan. “Please. I’m so close. Please.”
He lets you ride the edge for a little bit longer, despite your pleas and your iron grip on his hair. But after a minute or so, he seems to take pity on you and he increases his pace just slightly. Your orgasm blossoms in your hips, your cunt clamping down on his fingers as you moan his name to the ceiling.
“That’s my good girl,” he purrs a moment later, as his fingers coax you through the aftershocks. He looks you over, licking his lips. “You’re gorgeous like this, you know,” he says, eyes dragging greedily over your body. “Naked and utterly fucked out. Perfection.”
You shiver and slowly convince your loose muscles to allow you to sit up. “I don’t think you can say I’m fucked out if you haven’t actually fucked me.”
His eyebrow arches, “Is that so?”
You scoot to the edge of the bed so that you can run your hands over his firm chest. You press a kiss just above his belly button, tongue flicking out briefly against his skin. “Seems reasonable to me.”
“Do you want me to fuck you, Agent?” he says, his voice dropping low.
“I mean, that’s what I was hinting at, yes,” you say.
His eyes are hooded as he gives you a sly, calculating smile. “But do you deserve to be fucked, Agent?”
Feeling a little bold, you place your palm flat against the substantial bulge in his boxer briefs, running your hand along the hard, thick length of him. Fuck, he’s big. “Yes,” you say.
“I’m not so sure about that,” he says, his expression and voice deliciously stern despite your hand on his cock. “You’ve been quite pert. Disobedient. Mouthy.”
You think you have an idea where this is going. “So am I getting punished or begging for you to forgive me?” you ask with a coy smile.
The hunger and delight in his gaze makes you ache. “Let’s see what your smart mouth can do to my cock and maybe then I’ll consider fucking you.”
You lick your lips and trace your fingertips along the sharp lines of his Adonis belt, pausing at the waistband of his boxer briefs. You hook your fingertips under the elastic and pull them down.
His cock springs free as the fabric falls to the floor. Between sitting on his lap and the unsubtle nature of the boxer briefs, you knew he was long and thick, but you’re still not fully prepared to experience the full effect of seeing his cock be hard and ready for you.
“Fuck,” you breathe. You take a moment to admire him, despite the fact that you know it’s likely only inflating his ego. 
“Do you want me, Agent?” he drawls with a lazy smile. “Do you want my cock?”
“I think you know the answer to that,” you say. “In fact, I’m certain you do.”
“Perhaps I like hearing you say it,” he says, bringing one hand up to stroke your cheek. “Would that be such a terrible thing?”
Impulsively, you get to your feet and pull him into a kiss. You can still taste yourself on him—salty and a little sweet.
“You like hearing me talk about how I want you?” you say, pressing your hips against his.
“Very much.” His voice is a low purr and you shiver in his arms.
“I’m aching for you to fill me,” you murmur, leaning in to kiss him. “I’m dripping just thinking about it.” You nip at his lower lip and he groans against your mouth. “But first, I want to get on my knees and worship your perfect cock with my mouth.”
There's a low, pleased rumble deep in his chest and you shiver as you draw away. “Sit down.”
He sits down on the foot of the bed and you position yourself in front of him, standing between his spread thighs and lowering yourself to your knees. You run your hands up his thighs, lightly dragging your fingernails along his skin, enjoying the slight hitch in his breath. You kiss the inside of his left knee and slowly make your way up the inside of his left thigh, dragging your tongue along his skin every so often. You continue this all the way up to the crease where his thigh meets his hip, close enough that he can feel the heat of your breath on his beautiful cock.
And then you lean back and begin the same process again on his right leg.
“What,” he says, his voice going deep and dark, “did I say about playing games, Agent?”
You tilt your head to look up at him. He’s staring down at you with a stern look that makes your cunt clench.
“You know, I came so hard earlier, I can’t quite recall,” you say, making your eyes as wide and innocent as you can.
“And if you want to come again tonight, you’ll find a way to remember,” he says. He’s stern and authoritative, and it’s ridiculously hot. “Now put that smart mouth to work on my cock,” he growls.
“Yes, sir.” The phrase just sort of slips out, but the way it makes your cunt ache and his eyes glitter is absolutely delicious.
“Oh, I like those manners, pet,” he purrs. “I want to hear more of that.”
“I’ll keep that in mind,” you say, pausing to lick your lips, “sir.”
“Good girl.”
His cock is flushed and so hard it presses up against his stomach. You wrap one hand around his shaft and you suck in a breath when your fingers don’t quite meet. He’s huge and the thought of having him inside of you makes you shiver and ache in anticipation.
You stroke him once and lower your mouth to the tip of his cock, placing gentle, closed mouth kisses on it.
He tolerates this for about thirty seconds.
“Agent.” His voice is laced with warning. “I won’t warn you again.”
Your lips curl into a slight smile and you flick your tongue against the tip of his cock, savoring the sharp tang of his pre-come. His eyes glitter down at you, still watching, waiting for you to disobey him.
“Am I not allowed to savor this experience?” you ask, intentionally licking your lips.
“I would urge you to consider that only good girls get to come on my cock, darling,” he says, his voice going dark and deliciously stern. “Choose your next moves wisely.”
The reality is that you desperately want to come on his cock and you wouldn’t put it past him to deny you. So, you offer him a sly smirk before you slowly begin to lick the tip of his cock, gradually opening your lips and bringing him into your mouth.
He groans softly. “You just need a firm hand, don’t you?” he says as you begin to move your head, stroking his shaft in a slow rhythm. His fingers card through your hair as he leans back on one hand, allowing himself to relax a little. “Or perhaps it’s that you want my cock more than you want to be a brat.”
You look up at him and raise an eyebrow. He’s not wrong.
He laughs low in his throat. “Oh, I think I’m going to  have you taking my orders by the time the week is up.” He reaches out to stroke your cheek with his thumb. “You have such a needy little cunt and I rather think that will prove to be an advantage for me.”
Your instinct is to let out a low whine, but you also don’t want to give him the satisfaction. You can’t fully stop yourself from reacting, though, and a soft whimper makes its way out of your lips.
He catches this and smirks. “You like being mouthy and talking back, but I think you also crave a little discipline. Being told what to do gets you off, doesn’t it?”
This time, you do whine and he smiles down at you, eyes hooded. “That works out rather nicely,” he says, his voice dropping deep, “because I quite enjoy giving orders.”
You shiver and he notices, running his fingers through your hair.
“Filthy girl,” he purrs. “We’re going to have so much fun together.” He watches you for a minute, eyes hooded, lips slightly parted. “You’re gorgeous like this, too, you know,” he says. “On your knees with my cock in your mouth like a good girl. I could watch this for hours.” You glance up at him and catch his lazy smile. “Though,” he continues, “I suspect you’ll also look gorgeous riding my cock. Or perhaps spread out and tied to the bed.”
This image is too much for you: a high pitched whine makes its way out of your throat before you can think better of it.
“Oh, you like that idea?” he says, not sounding very surprised at all. “You like the thought of being bound and completely at my mercy?”
Another embarrassing whine escapes you before you can stop it.
“We’ll have to explore that some time this week,” he says. “Though I am starting to develop a rather lengthy list of things I want to do to you.”
Fuck. You are caught between wanting him to keep talking and wanting him to shut up so you stop making such embarrassing noises.
Admittedly, the idea of making him feel so good that you render him speechless is also incredibly appealing.
You suck just a little harder, cheeks hollowing as you start running your tongue along the underside of his shaft, swirling it on the tip as you come up.
His eyebrows draw together, his lips parting slightly. “Fuck. That’s it.”
You pick up your pace just a little and he groans, his hand going to grip your hair.
“Yes—just like that.” His grip tightens on your hair. “If your cunt is even half as good as your mouth—fuck, yes, right there—I’m going to have a hard time leaving this room this week.”
You hum against his cock and he groans, his hips starting to rock toward your mouth. “Do you like this?” he asks, his voice husky. “Do you like being on your knees for me?”
You moan against his cock, sucking harder.
“You do, don’t you?” he says, his voice a little unsteady. “Barely an hour and you’re already such a slut for my cock.”
You moan again, bobbing your head up and down his length.
“Such a good girl,” he purrs. “A bit of a brat to start, but I think I’m going to have to reward you for this. Your mouth is too fucking good.”
Another moan slips past your lips. He groans and is quiet for a minute or two, his hips rocking toward you.
His breath is coming in shaky gasps now. “I’m close, love,” he says, his fingers flexing in your hair. “I’m going to spill myself in your pretty mouth and then I’m going to fuck you into the mattress.”
You can’t help but moan, which seems to spur him on. His lips part and you can almost feel how close he is.
He makes the most beautiful noise as he comes, a low groan that seems to reverberate in your cunt as he empties himself into your mouth. You swallow his release greedily as you continue stroking him, your head moving up and down his length.
You pull off of him slowly, licking your lips and you look up at him, your mouth curling into a smirk. “So, was that a proper enough apology for you?” you ask.
He growls low in his chest, eyes opening to look down at you. “You are still far too pert for your own good,” he says. “I suspect I’m going to have to put you over my knee at some point this week. You need discipline.”
You suck in a deep breath as your cunt clenches at the possibility.
“But right now, I need to fuck you.” He gestures to the bed. “Get up here. Now.”
You don’t need any encouragement to follow this command, but the way that he delivers the order and the way his green eyes get all steely is enough for more slickness to collect between your legs. You clamber to your feet, but before you can even try getting on the bed, he’s pulling you to him and flipping you onto your back. He rolls on top of you, caging you in with his body, his impossibly hard cock throbbing against your stomach.
He kisses you, tongue pressing into your mouth, hungry and claiming. “Do you want me inside you?” he purrs against your lips. “Do you want me to fuck you?”
“I need you to fuck me,” you say, spreading your legs and tilting your pelvis up toward him. “I want you to claim me.”
His smile is sharp and he drags the tip of his cock along your cunt, coating himself in your slickness. “Still so fucking wet,” he growls.
“I told you I need you,” you murmur.
He lines himself up at your entrance and ever so slowly begins easing into you. He presses forward, inch by glorious inch, until his hips are flush against yours.
“Oh fuck,” you breathe. “You feel so good.”
He smiles and withdraws just an inch or two before pressing back in. You arch underneath him and let out a soft moan.
“How about that? Is that good?” he asks.
You moan and nod.
He repeats the action. “And this?”
You offer up another moan and he grins. He repeats the action again, clearly teasing you. “What about this one?”
“Loki, please—”
“What is it darling?”
You’re not quite sure if you want to kiss or slap that smirk right off his face.
“Please don’t stop, please—”
“Oh, you want me to keep doing this?” he says, his brow furrowing in mock confusion. “You should have said something.”
“Loki, please—”
He chuckles quietly and begins rocking his hips against yours in slow, shallow thrusts. You sigh and wrap your legs around his waist, meeting his mouth as he kisses you. You can tell he’s holding back, though.
“I’m not going to break,” you finally say, tilting your hips to rock with his. “I want more. I want you to fuck me.”
He kisses you hard and his thrusts lengthen and deepen, his pace increasing just a hair, and you cry out because he’s now hitting that soft, sweet spot and he feels even better.
“You’re taking me so well, darling,” he says. “This snug little cunt was made for my cock, wasn’t it?”
“Yes,” you breathe, arching your back. “Fuck, that’s so good.”
He wraps those long fingers around your ankles and brings your legs up so that they are draped over his shoulders, your body folded in half. He thrusts again and his cock presses even deeper, rubbing against that tender spot inside you. His thumb finds your clit and you whimper. Pressure is starting to build in your hips again.
“You’re getting close already, aren’t you?” he rasps, grinning at you like a devil. “I can feel you starting to tremble.”
You keen, your cunt clenching around his steadily thrusting cock.
“Are you going to be a good girl and come on my cock?” he growls.
You nod, words somewhere beyond you.
“I want you to soak my cock,” he purrs. “Let it all out. Scream for me.”
You feel yourself poised on the edge. So close.
“Come for me, darling, that’s it, let go, come for me, let me feel that sweet cunt milk me dry…”
You arch your back as your orgasm blossoms and unfurls. The sound that falls from your lips is a high pitched keening that would be Loki’s name, except there’s no space for anything besides this incredible feeling, his cock inside you, and the weight of him on top of you.
“Oh there you go, that’s it,” he murmurs. “You have the tightest, most exquisite cunt. I could fuck you for days.”
You moan, shuddering in the final throes, your cunt spasming around his thick cock. He withdraws for a moment and you moan at the loss, but he quickly flips you onto your stomach and slides right back inside you.
From this angle, his cock thrusts even deeper, pressing more directly against your G-spot. A few strokes in and it becomes glaringly apparent to you that you’re going to come again.
“You��re insatiable, aren’t you?” he pants, thrusting hard into you. “I can feel you starting to tremble already.”
You moan into the comforter, arching your back so he hits that spot again.
“Ah, ah, ah,” he scolds, wrapping an arm around your waist and pulling you up so your back is flush against his chest. “I want to hear every filthy little sound that you make. Every. Last. One.” He thrusts in time with those last three words and you moan.
“You love this, don’t you?” he growls, his hips thrusting hard. “You love me taking you from behind like a fucking animal.”
Your legs are shaking and you can feel your orgasm building. “Loki, I’m gonna come again,” you whimper.
“I know you are, sweet girl,” he growls. “I can feel your tight cunt trembling.” His free hand slides between your legs, fingers rolling over your clit in the same rhythm as his thrusting cock.
Your breath stutters and a low whine escapes your lips. You are deliciously close.
“Please.” Your voice is barely a gasp. You’re riding the very edge of that wave and it feels so good that you’re almost certain the oncoming climax couldn’t possibly feel better. Almost.
“Oh, you’re almost there, love, you can do it,” says Loki, his hand still moving with his hips. “You just need to let go.”
You whimper. You are almost there.
“Be my good girl and let go for me,” he rasps. “Come for me.”
It breaks quite suddenly, your whole body shuddering and your cunt clamping down hard on his cock as you come. The noise you make is animalistic, torn from somewhere deep in your chest.
“Fuck!” Loki is fucking you hard, hips pistoning against your ass. “So fucking tight, you’re like a vise when you come, fuck—” His speech gives way into either Asgardian or Old Norse—you’re not quite sure which, but the idea that you’ve made him feel good enough to abandon English is incredibly appealing.
You’re dreamily floating back down from your high when you hear him make that beautiful noise again, that low, deep groan that falls from his lips only when he comes. You feel his release flood your cunt, hot and thick, as his hips finally start to slow.
It’s another minute or two before he rolls off you, flopping down next to you on the bed. Before you even have a moment to miss him or the comforting weight of his body on yours, he’s wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you close.
You both lie there for a long moment, catching your breath.
You think back to your initial meeting with Fury, when you complained about being sent in with Loki. You’ve never been more pleased to be wrong in your entire life.
“So,” you say once you feel capable of speech, “you said you had some ideas for the rest of the week?”
If you thought his grin was devilish before, it’s nothing compared to what he looks like now as he pulls you on top of him.
“Darling,” he says, his voice dropping an octave. “I thought you’d never ask.”
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skbeaumont · 3 months ago
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Honey and Whisky | Joel x F!reader oneshot
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Summary: You've been watching him for months, orbiting each other as you both try to deal with the demons you should have left behind when you arrived in Jackson. It's only when you see Joel with another woman that the tension between you finally grows into something palpable.
Tags/warnings: smut, explicit content, MDNI, resolved sexual tension, PIV, oral (m receiving), fingering, dirty talk, a little bit of angst but mostly filth, mentions of trauma but nothing explicit, Jackson!Joel, F!reader, reader is not explicitly described, no use of Y/N
Word count: 3.6k
You’ve been watching him for months.
His broad back ahead of you in the queue for work duties; the side of his face in the canteen, strong jaw casting shadows on the tanned expanse of his neck under his open-collared shirt; dark eyes passing over yours as you both line up for the cinema, his kid at his side. He never seems to pay you much attention – never seems to pay anyone much attention – but you’re sure you’ve seen a hint of recognition in his expression each time you cross paths, a sort of unspoken “you again” that passes between you.
You never hold his gaze for long, never make conversation or attempt to get to know him, because you’re sure he’d brush you off. It's not that he’s unfriendly, exactly. He’s gruff and intimidating and more than a little rude sometimes, but he’s also eager to help anyone who needs it, chipping in with repair work and patrols without complaint. He never smiles or passes false niceties like most other folk do, preferring instead to offer terse, grumbled words of advice. He shows the Langstones how to properly repoint the grouting on the damaged side of their house, his shirt sleeves rolled up, the hot summer sun causing sweat to bead in the spaces between the curls on his forehead. He helps old Mrs Lopez with her hanging baskets, carefully raising them into position as she stands below and calls out instructions to him. When he stretches up to secure the last basket his shirt pulls up, revealing a strip of tanned skin and dark hair dipping beneath the band of his jeans.
So, yeah, you watch him. You watch him because he carries tension in his shoulders, unspoken fear in his eyes. There is something cold about him, something that suggests he’s trying hard to leave the man he was on the outside behind but hasn’t quite managed it. It’s a feeling that’s familiar to you, too. Five years on the road hardened you into something you don’t quite recognise in the mirror, the kind of person who flinches if someone gets too close, who can’t stand to have strangers approach from behind even on the safe streets of Jackson. It’s a deep-seated fear that has settled in your bones and seems unwilling to leave. Joel Miller is a man whose ghosts seem to mirror your own, and that makes him hard to look away from.
*****
By late March the snow has finally started to thaw and that’s enough to warrant a gathering in the Tipsy Bison. It’s unofficial, a quickly thrown together occasion that’s passed round by word of mouth that afternoon, but it still seems like everyone in the town is packed into the small tap room. There’s hardly room to navigate your way to the bar, elbows pressing into your sides, shoulders rubbing against your own. The early spring evening light is waning, soft dapples of sunlight casting pretty patterns on the table tops and worn leather seating.
He's at the bar. You don’t see him at first, too lost in your own thoughts, your head filled with the afternoon’s work, hands still sore from the handles of the buckets. But there he is, one elbow propped on the countertop, hip popped out, knee bent. He looks relaxed, for once. There’s an easy smile on his face, his lip curved up to meet the dimple of one cheek, and he’s talking to a blonde woman. Something like jealously flares up in your chest, hot and uninvited.
She’s pretty. Long, sleek hair tied up behind her neck, plump lips, a delicate, pointed nose. You know who she is, vaguely. Rose or Rosa or something, a woman who’s been in Jackson since the start, her eyes unplagued by visions of what you and Joel have both seen on the outside. She lives next door to Joel, a street away from you, though you can see her garden from your bedroom window. She and Joel are talking quietly, their voices lost in the hubbub of the bar, but you still see when she throws her head back and laughs, hand reaching out to clutch at Joel’s shirtsleeve, catching the bulk of his forearm with her slender fingers. His eyes trace the long expanse of her neck, pupils wide despite the bright light of the bar and you know he’s thinking about fucking her, thinking about how she’d look spread out underneath him in his bed, propped up against his pillows.
Then his eyes leave hers and catch yours, and there’s that familiar swoop in the pit of your stomach, that passing glance between you and Joel that always seems to linger. “You again,” it says, sending sparks between the twin points of your pupils, disrupting the reverie of Joel and Rose, pulling him suddenly and violently away from his fantasy.
You look away and hear him clear his throat, feel rather than see him shift where he's stood, imagine the frown that crosses his forehead as he continues to watch you. By the time you’ve got a drink from the bartender – a young guy who can only be a few years older than your sister, maybe twenty-three or twenty-four – Joel’s eyes have left your face and he’s chatting to Rose again, or at least letting her talk at him. Her voice is sweet, like honey and sugar and iced tea, and you almost don’t blame him for wanting to sleep with her, almost understand why he’d let himself be seduced by her niceties, her innocence.
Then you take the first sip of your whisky, feel the harsh, grating pull of it against your tongue, and think no. She’s honey and he’s whisky, and there’s no way you can stand here, in this crowded bar and let her have him when what he needs is the recognition of your own haunted eyes. So you throw back the rest of the bitter drink and slam the glass onto the bar. It startles Joel, despite the busyness and the loud chatter all around, but Rose doesn’t even flinch. Why would she? She doesn’t know that a slammed glass against warped wood sounds the same as the snap of a rifle, that the friction of the contact through your fist against the countertop makes you and Joel both think of the kickback a pistol will give if you don’t hold it square enough.
Rose giggles with something like nerves, all light and high-pitched, her hand smoothing the wood beneath her hand, but Joel’s looking at you again, pressing himself further into the bar top so that he can keep his gaze on your face when Rose leans forwards. And you let yourself turn to him, let the side of your mouth lift up into something like a smile.
Rose’s eyes flick anxiously from Joel’s face to yours. She thinks you’re about to have an argument, you realise, and that makes you smile for real, laughter almost bubbling up in your throat. There’s heat between you and him, and she’s caught between it, feeling the licking flames that in her innocence, her wholeness, she’s misinterpreting as conflict. But Joel’s pupils are blown wide where they hold yours, and he swallows, tongue dipping out from between his lips to wet them. He’s thinking about you, now. You, in his bed, pressed against his pillows, and while the image isn’t as clear as the one he had of Rose, it’s settling deep in his gut in a way that she hasn’t, sending hot coils of pleasure blossoming out to the tips of his fingers.
He’s a lost cause, he thinks. Damaged goods, probably, from the soles of his weary, blistered feet to the ends of his greying hair, but so are you. So it’s easy to push himself away from the bar without a word to Rose, easy to force himself through the throngs of writhing bodies, his broad shoulders turning this way and that to ease his path. It’s easy to pretend he isn’t aware of you following him, that he can’t feel the heat of your eyes on his narrow waist, watching every movement of his hips as you both leave the crowded bar, Rose forgotten behind you.
Outside, the cold is still enough to catch in your throat, but by the time you reach the alleyway that runs between the bar and the first row of houses Joel is crowding you against the wall, pressing himself to you like a man possessed. You let him, fist your hands in the thick expanse of his coat, trying to feel the solid mass of him beneath it. One large hand comes up to your jaw and he tips it to the side, presses his nose into the gap between the hollow of your throat and your jacket and inhales deeply, pulling the smell of whisky from your neck.
“Have me,” you say into the quiet of the alley, and he pulls his head back, looks at you hard, questioning.
“Have me,” you repeat, adding, “not her.”
“You jealous?” He asks, his voice gravelly. He lets his hand follow the curve of your neck into your hair, his calloused fingertips rough against your scalp.
“No,” you lie, “but she should be.”
He chuckles at this, a huffed breath of a laugh that in the cold sends a plume of hazy condensation into the narrow slice of air between the two of you.
“Okay.” He says then, his mouth curving into a grin that he presses against your own lips.
The kiss is rough, needy from the first point of contact. But then he opens up to you, groans into your mouth when you pull his tongue into the wet heat of yours. He brings his other hand up to cup your jaw, huge hand spanning the full length of your face. The air around you is still cold but there’s a fire somewhere deep in your belly, Joel’s chapped lips moving against yours, his broad body pressing you into the rough brick. You jolt against him when he shifts, a thick thigh moving to slide between your own legs. The friction then is delicious, tensing muscle pressing to the centre of you, slick pooling on rough denim. 
It’s a shock as he pulls himself away suddenly, cold air swooping in to replace the heat of his body.
“C’mon,” he says, “my place is closest.”
And then he’s striding away, not waiting for you to follow because he’s so confident you will, disappearing around the corner of the street. You stumble after him, legs weak.
The streets are empty, and that’s probably the only reason he wraps an arm around your waist when you catch up with him. He holds you to him, hard, fingertips digging into the flesh of your hip like he’s trying to mark you. Your thighs bump together, his so much larger than yours, coiled strength wrapped up in corded muscle. The walk is only short, and neither of you speak, too set on reaching your destination.
Up the steps, his arm leaving your waist to rummage in the pocket of his jeans and pull out a key tied on a worn piece of string. The lights are all off – his kid is obviously out somewhere – but he pulls you inside without turning them on, the darkness of the evening now fully settled over the town.
Crowded against the front door, you fist your hands into his hair, relish the soft thickness of his curls, the way they glide through your fingertips, his mouth seeking yours out, lips barely skimming your own before pulling back, making you chase him.
“Didn’t think you were interested,” he says into the narrow gap between you, “always avoiding me, seems like.”
“I’ve wanted you since I first saw you,” you tell him, pulling him to you by the nape of his neck, fitting your lips together so that your teeth clash, mouths colliding messily.
He groans into you, pulls away again, asks, “what do you want, pretty girl?”
The nickname shouldn’t make you grin against his lips, shouldn’t send a somersault of ecstasy through you, but it does. You’re not pretty, you know. You’re damaged and rough and so fucking needy. Needy for his hands and his mouth and his lips, that he leans down to press against the column of your throat,  teeth just grazing the skin there.
“Hmm?” he mutters against you, “tell me what you want.”
“You,” You tell him, nails scratching into the delicate skin just above his ears.
When he lifts you, hands gripping the meat of your thighs and pulling you up to rest against his chest you gasp, shifting your hands to link your fingers behind his neck. He carries you up the stairs like that. It’s a little uncoordinated and messy, his hip bumping the banister, your foot catching on the door frame, but then he drops you onto his bed and covers your body with his own, his hands seeking out the flesh of your breasts. He pushes the hem of your top up, kneads at the soft skin there with a practised hand, forefinger and thumb pinching your nipple in a way that has you arching up off the bed.
“This okay?” he asks, voice gravelly and rough, and you nod, but he tsks from between his teeth, “gonna need words, baby,” he says.
“Yes, Joel, please,”
He pushes your jumper the rest of the way up and off, does the same to your t-shirt so that you’re half-naked and writhing under his hands. The sudden hot heat of his mouth over your peaked nipple makes you hiss out a breath, and he chuckles from somewhere deep in his chest, using his teeth to bite down against your skin. Then his hands are pulling at the button of your worn jeans, dragging them and your underwear down off your thighs. He lets them fall onto the rug-covered floor of his bedroom and then his fingers are moving to where you’re wet and needy for him.
The pleasure of his fingers sliding against you is overwhelming and all-consuming, so much so that you hardly notice the way he’s grinding his hips against you, pressing his covered cock into your thigh, chasing friction. You feel him twitch against you as he presses two fingers into the tight heat of you, lips settling at your pulse point, teeth grazing the delicate skin there. It’s enough to tip you over the edge and you come hard, stars blossoming across your vision, limbs shaking with the exertion of it.
“Look so good like this, baby,” Joel says into the side of your neck, “spread out against my sheets like a fucking angel.”
He pulls his fingers from you, drags them up through your folds and then into the heat of his mouth, groaning around them as he sucks your juices from his own skin. Something snaps in you and suddenly you’re pushing him off you, onto his back, straddling his denim-clad thighs and tugging at the buttons of his shirt. The fastenings open easily, buttons worn and shiny with age, revealing a broad chest and softer stomach, a light trail of hair disappearing under the waistband of his dark jeans, the scene illuminated by the orange glow of the streetlight outside the window.
He's big; you can see the contour of him against the denim, a solid, thick line that twitches against your palm when you press it into him. You pop the button on his jeans, unsurprised to find he’s not wearing underwear. The jeans join yours on the floor and his cock bobs before you against his stomach, head dark and shiny in the low light, a bead of precum that you kitten lick from him. The movement has Joel bucking his hips, a deep groan rumbling through his chest. When you take him into your mouth he threads his hands into your hair and grips, not pushing you down but just holding you there, grounding himself with his fingers against your scalp. You work your tongue over him, using your hand to cover the part of him that you can’t fit into your mouth and he moans and curses above you.
“Fuck, darlin’, m’not gonna last if you keep going,” he tells you, voice cracking with the effort of it, and you pull away regretfully, moving yourself up to straddle his thighs.
Joel’s hands find your hips and drag you up, up, up so that the head of his cock catches against your clit, slick pooling on his belly as you rock against him. It’s messy and filthy and goddamn incredible, the solid ridge of him pulling against you just right, pleasure building up and up and up so that your thighs tense around him and you’re coming again, Joel’s fingertips digging hard into the flesh of your hips, pain dulled by the pleasure of it.
As you come down he takes the opportunity to roll you both over, slotting himself between your thighs and pressing the blunt head of his cock to your entrance, not pushing in yet, just holding you there, pinned beneath him, dark eyes seeking yours in the relative darkness.
“Please, Joel,” you keen, fingernails scratching a path down the broad expanse of his back.
The kiss he gives you then is soft, almost gentle, but you chase his lips, drag the bottom one between your teeth and bite down hard. He growls as he sinks himself into you, a choked-out moan painting hot air across your cheeks. You’re both lost then, gripping onto each other as heat and pleasure lick a steady flame through you.
The only sounds in the dimly lit room are the hot pant of Joel’s breath and your own breathy sighs. His silhouette is like a marble statue above you, holding himself still on two propped elbows, hard-set jaw working with the effort of keeping himself from thrusting into you carelessly.
“Fuck- Joel, please, fuck me,” you say into the stillness and he dips his head, buries his neck in the space between your shoulder and jaw, rough stubble licking at the skin there.
“Okay, baby,” He whispers, and then he pulls himself out and surges forward again, stretching you around his cock, reaching deeper this time than before.
He sets a punishing pace, one fist gripping the hair at the base of your neck, the other holding himself up so that he can watch where you’re joined. You think about Rose then, wonder if he’d have fucked her like this, fast and hard and needily – no, he wouldn’t have, you decide. This is something that only you and he have a need for, something dark and unrepentant and all-consuming. There’s nothing else in the universe in this moment but Joel’s thick, strong body above yours and the delicious stretch of his cock inside you.
“You feel so fuckin’ good, darlin’,” he tells you, “wanna pin you down and keep you here forever.”
He adjusts the angle, shifts his hips so that his cock hits the spongy spot inside you that sends pleasure shooting up your spine and you can’t help the whimper that escapes your lips.
“Bet you’d let me, too, wouldn’t you?” Joel says, voice hard, hips dragging as he slows his thrusts to press his pelvis against yours, “Let me do whatever the fuck I wanted with you and you’d thank me for it, huh?”
“Yes, God, yes,” Your voice sounds pathetic even to your own ears, high-pitched and breathless.
Joel chuckles darkly, wraps a broad hand around the base of your neck and holds it there, not squeezing but just keeping you in place.
It’s warm in the small bedroom and you watch sweat bead in the creases of Joel’s neck, on the tips of his curls where they rest on the side of his face and forehead. His eyebrows are furrowed, face contorted with pleasure and concentration and when he flicks his eyes up to catch yours there’s that familiar electricity between you. “You,” it says, “it’s always you.” It’s enough to tip you both over the edge. You come hard, cunt clenching and fluttered around Joel’s cock and he lets out a rumbling groan as his hips stutter, his rhythm lost. He slams his hips to yours one last time and then you feel him twitching inside you, painting you with ropes of come. He curses through it, little half-choked mutters of Jesus Christ baby, fuckin’ tight, perfect cunt and then he collapses against you, his sweat-slicked chest hot against yours, both of your gasping in desperate breaths. Joel rolls off of you but pulls you tight to him, arm wrapped possessively around you waist, hand firm on the tender flesh of your hip.
In the aftermath, the orange glow of the streetlight looks like fire against Joel’s white bedsheets. The flames of it lick up the breadth of his chest to his collarbone and you think of a different fire, the one that burned down the last haven you found, over five years ago. You think of the death and destruction of that night, squeezing your eyes tight shut to try to block it out. When you open them Joel’s looking at you, dark eyes holding yours, but his expression is a little distant. The crease between his eyebrows is deepened by the way he’s frowning and you’re sure he’s thinking of his own fire-struck night, his mind perhaps decades away. The sex-sweet haze is already slipping away, but he’s a firm presence beside you and when you take a shaky breath, trying to slow your hammering heart, his arm around you tightens reassuringly.  
Maybe the ghosts can be kept at bay for a while, at least.
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pretty-sparkle-bomb · 6 months ago
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Butterflies tap-danced in your stomach as you stood outside the humongous traditional-styled mansion that Bakugo called his house.
Today was the day you'd finally meet Katsuki Bakugo's mom, Mitsuki. You'd been dating Bakugo for a few months now, and while things were undeniable between you, there were a few slip-ups here and there.
He hadn't exactly gushed about his family life, so you weren't sure what to expect.
Taking a deep breath, you smoothed down your skirt and rang the doorbell. The wait felt like an eternity before the door swung open, revealing a woman with spiky blonde hair that mirrored Bakugo's. Her bromine eyes were tired, a different shade from Katsuki's carmine ones.
You couldn't help but wonder if that was where his own eyes would end up after years of wear and tear – perhaps after you'd settled down and raised little explosions together.
"You must be Y/n! Katsuki told me you'd be coming," she laughed, her voice surprisingly gentle. "Come in, come in! Don't just stand there like a shy little flower."
You smiled, relieved by the lack of hostility. Stepping inside, you were greeted by an unsurprisingly tidy living room. Photos of a younger Bakugo, with a much wider smile than he ever showed you, adorned the walls.
"Would you like some tea, dear?" Mitsuki asked, bustling around the kitchen. "Bakugo always preferred coffee, that stubborn boy."
You chuckled, "Tea sounds lovely, thank you, Mrs. Bakugo."
"Please, call me Mitsuki," she said, handing you a steaming cup. "So, when are yall thinking of giving me grandbabies?"
Y/n almost choked on the liquid she was sipping. "I-I'm sorry?"
"Don't be so formal, haha!" Mitsuki held the h/c-ette's hand before patting it lightly. "I was joking, dear."
You took a hesitant sip of tea before smiling. "He's...definitely a challenge," you admitted. "But I see a promising future with him. He's incredibly loyal and brutally honest."
Mitsuki's face softened. "I'm glad. He hides it well, but he cares deeply. Just like his father."
You raised an eyebrow, surprised. Bakugo rarely spoke of his father, and you knew their relationship was strained. "He does?"
Mitsuki giggled. "Masaru's a quiet man, but he instilled a strong sense of justice in Katsuki. He wants to be a hero who makes a difference, just like All Might. But sometimes, that fire burns a little too bright."
The door slammed open with a bang, startling you both. Bakugo stormed in, a scowl etched on his face. "Oi, woman, I-" He stopped short, his crimson eyes widening at the sight of you. "Y/n? Didn't expect ya t'be here. 'S early."
Before he could say anything else, Mitsuki walked over and playfully headlocked him, a mischievous twinkle in her eyes. "Y/n is here for dinner. Isn't that right, dear?"
Bakugo sputtered, his cheeks flushing a faint pink, the scowl fading instantly. You couldn't help but grin, the awkwardness dissolving into amusement. "Oi, get off of me, hag!" he grumbled, though there was no heat behind the words.
You gasped, feigning offense. "Katsuki Bakugo! Don't speak to your mother like that!"
Mitsuki, still holding him in a headlock, was about to make a snarky retort when Bakugo simply muttered, "Tch, whatever," and escaped his mother's grasp.
As the family settled down for dinner, Mitsuki smiled and extended her hands out to say grace. Masaru, a quiet man with a warm presence, held his wife's hand lovingly. To your surprise, Bakugo, with a barely perceptible blush, reached out and held yours too. The gesture sent a jolt of warmth through you, a silent promise amidst the family ritual.
After dinner, you offered to help with the dishes, a subtle way to spend more time with Mitsuki. You found yourself enjoying her company, gossiping about everything from hero gossip to the latest fashion trends. With a twinkle in her eye, Mitsuki seemed to approve of your company.
When it was finally time to leave, Katsuki walked you to his door, his face unusually flushed. He fumbled in his pocket for a moment before pulling out a crumpled envelope.
"Want ya to read this," he mumbled, shoving it in your hand with a scowl that didn't quite reach his crimson eyes. "The old hag slapped me upside the head before stuffing this in my pocket."
You knew from his tone there was more to the story than he was letting on. Carefully, you tore open the envelope, bracing yourself for who knows what.
Inside, nestled amongst a few tissues, were not one, not two, but three bright pink condoms. A handwritten note on a scrap of paper accompanied them. It read in bold, loopy handwriting:
"A little heads up because 1+1=3 if you don't use protection. We don't want that now, do we? Love, Mom. P.S. Don't forget to thank Y/n for helping with the dishes!"
You couldn't help but burst out laughing, the absurdity of the situation hitting you all at once. Katsuki, on the other hand, seemed to be on the verge of exploding. His face and neck were now a vibrant shade of crimson, rivalling the colour of his eyes.
"See," he hissed, his voice barely above a whisper, "I told you she's a hag!"
You couldn't help but tease him a little. "Well, 'Suki," you said, a playful smile on your face, "looks like your mom's a bigger shipper than you are."
Katsuki grumbled something incoherent, but a small smile tugged at the corner of his lips.
He wouldn't mind having a baby with you.
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facioleeknow · 3 months ago
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The art of pleasure ch.7
Docility ° Seungmin
When one girl in your class makes fun of you for being a virgin at a party, you are left distraught. It's only natural that you decide to whine about it to your best friend, Bang Chan; but he does more than lending a shoulder to cry on, he comes up with a solution. He and his 7 friends will help you and teach you all about the pleasure of the flesh. What could go wrong?
Genre: College AU, Smut 18+ ONLY wc:2.1k
Warnings: fraternity skz, experienced seungmin, inexperienced reader, public sex, talk of kinks, spitting, rough sex, pussy slaps, degradation (slightly), name calling, spitting, sort of public nudity, talks of safe word, dom! minnie, titty sucking, squirting
A/N: sorry for the delay guys, I hope you like this ;)
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Turns out Felix's reward was pretty simple. After a damn good wipe down, that you both needed, you had found yourself in his bed, dress discarded. Your naked bodies pressed against each other and Felix's plush lips wrapped around your nipple, suckling to his heart's desire. The constant ministrations of his tongue spread a light pleasurable buzz throughout your body, but not strong enough to get you horny again. You were too spent for that, domming for the first time had taken a toll on you but you liked it, you would do it again.
“Hey, I heard the noises stop, are you done?” Christopher bursted through the door, making you jump in place. Felix whined at the movement but a small sweet ‘shh’ from you settled him back into his routine.
“You are unbelievable, Mr Bang,” you whispered with a scoff and motioned for him to stay quiet, you didn't want to disturb Felix after all.
“What? My best friend dommed for the first time and I wanted to know if she enjoyed it or not. Felix seems pretty out of it so I'd say you did a good job,” Chan craned his neck to look at the boy in your arms but you didn't miss his eyes lingering on your bare tits for more than a few seconds.
“Hyung,” Felix whined again, voice muffled.
“It's okay baby, don't worry about him,” you whispered with the sweetest voice you could muster, your lips pressed to his forehead. The sunshine boy sighed against you, his eyelids slowly drooping.
“Best friend? Ouch Chris, you saw me half naked, I thought we had something,” you half joked while you stroked the blonde's hair, the wispy locks tickled your chest.
“We could,” Chris fixed you on the spot with an intense gaze, you could feel your body get hotter and hotter until you had to look away, afraid you might explode. The silence in the room was thick.
“You need to talk to Seungmin, he wanted to clear up some things. I'll put his number in your phone and then leave you to rest.” Without saying anything, you turned your back to him and tried to focus your attention on Felix. His eyes were closed, his mouth still on your nipple and a bit of drool had escaped past his lips and on the curve of your breast. You didn't mind, it was cute. His breath was slow and rhythmic, and not long after your own eyes were starting to close.
When you woke up you were alone in bed, Felix had taken his usual spot at his gaming chair.
“Leaving me alone in bed after the moment we shared? Wow that's cold of you, Felix,” you joked. The chair spun quickly and the boy looked at you with big brown eyes.
“Oh sorry, Y/N, I just wanted to get in a quick match before you woke up.”
“Y/N? I thought it was Miss to you,” you giggled at his face, jaw slacked and cheeks on fire, “ I'm just joking, keep playing baby, don't worry about it.”
Your head hit the pillow again, Felix's bed was insanely comfortable and as much as you wanted to fall asleep again you should've texted Seungmin already.
You: 
Hey Seungmin, it's Y/N, Chris said you wanted to talk to me
Seungmin:
That's right, do you want to meet at the library near your dorm tomorrow at 9 pm? 
I know it's late but I prefer to do this in a public place but I still don't want any people listening to us
You: 
It works for me I'll see you tomorrow <3
Butterflies swarmed your stomach in excitement, you couldn't wait.
The following day, as soon as you stepped foot in the library, you could see him. You hated that particular establishment, it was bleak and cold and the chairs were uncomfortable, but with Seungmin sitting at the table at your right the room looked different; warm and soft and suddenly you wanted to study there all the time. His boyfriend look was no joke.
Seungmin looked up and you hastily moved to greet him, fortunately he didn't seem to have seen you ogling.
“Hey,” he smiled and your heart skipped a beat, his hand briefly squeezed yours, “sit down.”
You had never obeyed a man so fast in your entire life, he seemed to notice that.
“Did hyung tell you what we are going to do?” his voice was still soft but now extremely serious and you were starting to get a bit nervous.
“He only wrote ‘subbing’ on the list.”
“Yes, that's right. I asked you to come here to discuss some things we may try together,” he started looking inside his bag, “I made a list.”
“I have never done anything like this so I don't know how much I can answer.”
“That's okay just tell me if the idea seems nice to you and you want to try, if you don't like it while we do it then you say the safe word and we stop immediately.”
“Okay.”
His smile was reassuring, you had never seen him smile like that but you wouldn't mind seeing it again.
“Okay so what do you want our safe word to be?”
“Puppy,” you didn't even have to think about it, you had heard the guys call him that so many times that it came natural to you.
“Noted. Now I'm gonna list a couple of kinks I want to try and you can decide if you want to try them as well. Just tell me yes or no.”
“Got it.”
“Dirty talk, praise and degradation.”
“Yes.”
“Humiliation.”
“No.”
“Public intercourse.”
“Yes.”
“Slapping and spanking.”
“Yes.”
“Spitting.”
“Yes.”
“Rough intercourse.”
“Yes.”
“Partial public nudity.”
“Yes.”
“Edging.”
“Yes.”
“Okay, that's it, thank you for coming tonight.”
“It's fine,” you could barely talk, all this talking about kinks and sex had formed a damn slip and slide between your legs. 
Despite all of your wishes, Seungmin that night, only walked you to your dorm room and pressed a delicate kiss to your cheek with a promise to see you on the weekend. He wanted to take you to a karaoke room he liked and had requested you wear a skirt.
The weekend came way too quickly for your liking, you were ready and you knew that but this was truly something new and you were a bit nervous. Your sweaty palms smoothed down your skirt for the thousandth time. Earlier Seungmin had sent you a text that had made your heart and your vagine beat wildly.
Seungmin: 
We're gonna start as soon as I see you, I'm gonna be different than usual, is that alright?
You: 
That's okay. Should I call you daddy? Or sir?
Seungmin:
Minnie is fine, leave daddy for Chan hyung.
Wait for me outside if you can :)
Seungmin’s car was gorgeous but he was even more magnificent, you couldn't believe somebody with such an angel face had listen all those nasty kinks.
“Hey, Minnie,” you murmured when you entered the car. He didn't answer, instead his thumb gently caressed your cheek. 
“Are you gonna do what I ask like a good girl?” You nodded vigorously, your whole body felt on fire. 
“Take your panties off then, and give them to me.” 
In a flash, you had scrambled to flip up your skirt and then shove your panties down. Seungmin laughed meanly at your eagerness which made your pussy pulse happily. The boy behind the wheel grabbed the panties and without another word he stuffed them inside his pocket. 
The journey to the karaoke room was torturous, your thighs were pressed firmly to get some release but you didn't want to move because Seungmin had not given you permission to do so. 
The establishment in itself was beautiful, the owner was kind and escorted you to your room while chatting happily. The private room was spacious and modern, the dimmed and colored lights created a cool ambience.
As soon as your ass was on the soft cushion of the sofa, Seungmin was on you, his big hands digged into the plush of your thighs.
“I'm gonna touch you and I don't wanna hear you make any noise, I wanna sing. Got it?”
“Yes Minnie.” 
His fingers came in contact with your pussy roughly, his hand traveled down to your entrance to swipe around your wetness.
“Wet already? Are you a whore?”
“N-no,” keeping your cool while his hand kept busy between your legs was one of the hardest things you had ever done.
“I think you are.” With that he turned around and busied himself with the tablet; when a tune started to play and his angelic voice sounded in the room, you silently sighed, you could at least distract yourself a bit from the pleasure like that. 
Your hopes soon crumbled when his fingers passed from caressing and circling all over your pussy to roughly rubbing your clit. The only thing you could hear in the room was him and your eyes were glued on his magnificent figure, he seemed not a bit affected by what was going on between your legs and you soon found out you were into it, even a bit too much. Your legs started trembling, the pleasure started to build up quickly, your clit was extremely sensitive and Seungmin knew exactly what he was doing. Your heavy breath resounded in the whole room but Seungmin seemed to not mind. 
When your hips started bucking into his hand and your back arched off the couch, he pulled his hand away, he clearly did not want you to cum so quickly. 
He played a second song and the onslaught on your poor sensitive and swollen clit began again. But just how it began it ended, like before.
Seungmin kept teasing you and stimulating you for two more songs, at the fifth, you were gone with pleasure and ready to cry if you didn't cum any second. Your body felt heavy and boneless, his fingers felt too good. But you stayed quiet, you had to stay quiet, you wanted to be a good girl for him. Your date had other plans, you had behaved way too well for his liking. Just when the song was nearing his finish and your orgasm was approaching, Seungmin's fingers roughly pinched your little bundle of nerves.
“Minnie,” you squeaked, with wide eyes. His hand lifted and then roughly came back down. Slap. It stinged but the pain felt so good you could've cum from that alone.
“I told you to stay quiet,” he scoffed, the tablet flew to the other side of the couch and he roughly grabbed your wrist.
“On your knees.”
Your poor wobbly knees hit the ground hard, but you hastily moved to be in front of him.
“Open your mouth.” Seungmin's right hand enveloped your jaw and squeezed effectively squishing your cheeks and forcing you to open up.
“Swallow and then show me.” A thick wad of spit fell into your mouth after that and you moaned, you wanted more but you still closed your mouth and swallowed. When you open up again, Seungmin wasted no time in turning you around and pushing your head down on the coffee table in front of you so your pussy was glued to his crotch. The sound of his belt unbuckling, made your squirm on top of the cool glass. You wanted to see him.
“You better not move or I'll edge you for a week.” Your skirt got quickly flipped up and you felt his head push against your entrance. 
Your lover sheathed himself fully inside you and another song started to play, a love song. Fitting. Without giving you time to adjust he started a brutal pace, not even Han had pounded you this hard. The sound of your skin slapping and the squelch in your pussy resounded in the room, along with your desperate moans and pleas and your date's delicate grunts.
Seungmin's hand circled your hips and pressed against your clit. He resumed his brutal rubbing from before, your orgasm was approaching dangerously quickly. 
“You need to cum, I won't be able to last. This pussy is so slutty, it's sucking me in,” he paired his words with sharp, decise thrusts and you felt the coil in your belly snap. Clear liquid shot out of you and doused Seungmin's crotch. You had never cummed that hard in your entire life. 
Seungmin quickly pulled out of you and stripped his cock above your ass, thick white ropes of cum cascaded on your hot skin in intricate patterns. 
The music had stopped, the only thing heard in the room were both of your heavy breaths.
“I've never made anybody squirt, if I take you out on another date, would you let me do it again?”
@kflixnet
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austinbutlerslovers · 8 months ago
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Mr. Butlers Babysitter
Label mature 18+
🔗 Part 2 🔗 Part 3 🔗 Part 4 Completed Series
Summary
When you began working as a babysitter for Mr. Butler you were immediately taken by his wonderful children and his beautiful Malibu estate, he also paid handsomely. Having worked for celebrities on a referral based system you prided yourself on being professional and discreet for his family.
With Mr. Butler recently divorced having you help him with the children during their weekend visits from their mother was a godsend. After two months his daughter and son adored you to pieces never wanting you to leave. It seemed like a perfect fit.
One fateful evening Mr. Butler puts you in a highly compromising position. One that could ruin your reputation and your livelihood if word got out. You have two choices: Be exploited never to work in the inner circle as a high status celebrity babysitter again. or go along with his perverted plans.
🚨 Depraved Smut 🚨
corruption kink•dubcon•manipulation• humiliation• degradation •naivety •drug use•alchohol use•edging• fingering•coercive sex•condom use•orgasms•yandere
🫦co-writer/smut consultant @burnthheparaphilia
💝Not for my softies: Very corrupt perverted manipulative Austin
My first corruption smut 😭 no idea what I’m doing but was told I would be good at it. This one was pushed to the front of the request due to incessant demand.
There was a HUGE glitch for the delay I could not post it with the ask ☹️ it crashed so many times so I included them here
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Mr. Butlers Babysitter
You were an excellent employee working for Mr. Butler as a babysitter of his two wonderful children. Though he preferred you call him Austin after working two months you still called him Mr. Butler to maintain the professionalism. He was a very famous actor in the early 2020’s. Now in his late thirties he was a full time producer.
He has a beautiful seven bedroom Malibu estate with every luxury perk you could think of. You enjoyed the cliffside drive seeing the ocean on your way to work there.
You would roll down the window and stick your hand out, feeling the ocean breeze hearing the seagulls as the waves crashed against the cliff walls.
You adored his two children Alisa and Daniel. Alisa was 8 years old and full of confidence. She was book smart and excelled in school never once asking for help with of her homework.
His son Daniel was 5 years old, always in imagination land. He was a very picky eater and sometimes you would have to pretend his favorite toy dinosaur would eat his food if he didn’t.
On this evening you and Austin were preparing pizza for the kids in his massive kitchen. He had his own personal brick oven designed to fit the space.
You grated mozzarella as he ladled the tomato sauce. As you sprinkled the cheese on the pizza dough your hands touched.
He smiled at you and replaced the ladle into the tomato sauce before standing behind you and placing his hands on yours showing you exactly how to spread it.
He instructs you gently speaking over your right shoulder “You know how Daniel is with his texture sensitivities if this cheese melts clumped together he won’t eat it” you giggle you totally understand. He slowly releases your hands and watches you work. He gives you a touch of approval on your shoulder before he gets back to ladling the sauce.
There was always a tension in the back of your mind with him. He was very attractive on an unnatural level.
His sandy blonde hair was always maintained in soft waves. His blue eyes had a depth and sincerity that if you stared too long you felt what it meant to get lost.
His jawline and face shape were squared and masculine and his plump lips accentuated his perfectly shaped nose. He was extremely handsome and though he was older he looked and acted so much younger.
Though you found him attractive you had set goals in mind: make money and advance your life. That kept you adamant to remain professional and you also felt so safe and highly valued working for him.
He paid you handsomely, had wonderful children and a beautiful home. You would never ruin this opportunity.
The four of you sat in the back yard that night to watch one of Mr. Butler favorite child hood movies. ‘The Good the Bad and the Ugly.’ It had become routine on Sunday to have movie night before the kids returned to their mothers for the week.
On the enormous hillside yard of his Malibu estate he had a large movie screen and a projector constructed. You all sat under a gazebo enjoying the warm breeze on a plush couch bed with a fire pit infront of it.
Beyond the movie screen you could see the twinkling lights of the city. You rested your head back enjoying the space, he had a very lovely home.
The kids grew restless after only 20 minutes of the slow paced movie but you were able to retrain their attention by asking them questions. “Is that cowboy a good one or a bad one?” you ask as Lee Van Cleefs scowling face took over the screen.
“A bad one!” Alisa yells quickly before her brother answers to prove how smart she is. Daniel’s little face saddens into a pout feeling like he lost.
“I think you’re right Alisa…” you say valuing her effort actually unsure which is the bad one.
You put your hand on Daniel’s little back and comfort him “Daniel look your turn is next! Is that cowboy a good cowboy or an ugly cowboy?”
He studies Clint Eastwoods stern face. “He looks like a mad cowboy ” he says with his cute voice growling and tiny teeth bared. You and Austin laugh at his adorableness.
“He does looks like a mad cowboy” Austin says assuring him. “Come here little guy sit on daddy’s lap” he motions for Daniel to come and easily picks him up “ah there we go” He says holding Daniel forward facing to watch the movie. He runs his hands through his son’s sandy blonde locks they look almost identical.
“Do you want to do nails? “ Alisa asks you excitedly out of the blue practically bouncing next to you on the couch bed.
“Sure if it’s okay with your dad I know it’s getting late“ you admit checking your phone.
She looks to her dad “Plea-a-a-se can I go get my nail kit daddy!“ she pouts with her hands in a prayer. He can’t resist her.
“You can get it but you have to be done in less than thirty minutes it’s almost your bed time” he say firmly.
Alisa squeals and you watch as she runs into the house.
Austin’s thumb caresses your shoulder to get your attention. “Look he’s out” he says pointing at little Daniel comfortably resting back in his arms.
“Aw look at his little cute face, do you want me to take him up?” You ask gently to be helpful.
He motions his head “No you girls do nails and I’ll sit with him to watch the movie” you agree to the idea just as Alisa comes bounding out of the house with a hot pink nail box kit. She slams it on the flat stone edge of the fire pit.
Austin puts his finger to his lips with a stern face shushing her because Daniel is sleeping. “Sorry daddy” she says to him softly “I got it “ she says out of breath holding up the kit to you.
She puts the plastic box of nail supplies on the couch bed next to you and pops it open. Pulling out a bottle of hot pink polish “Do my nails this color” she says demandingly but she’s a kid.
“If you say please” you sweetly correct her
“Please do my nails this color!” She asks with an impatience rising in her voice. You smile and extend your palm to her.
She places her small hand in yours as you brush the color on each of her nails. “and the stickers!” She says pulling out a roll.
You place a sticker of her choice on each nail. She looks them over excitedly “Do you like them?” You ask to make sure she’s a happy client. She jumps up and hugs you tightly around your neck.
The squeeze shocks you and you pat her shoulder tenderly to calm her “Okay honey I’m glad you like them.” you say pretending to sounds like you are being choked and it makes her giggle.
Austin realizes he was so invested in your encounter he wasn’t watching his movie and it’s already been more than thirty minutes. “Okay it’s definitely time to head up” he says carrying a sleeping Daniel as he clicks off all the electronics.
Alisa gathers her nail kit and holds your hand. You all head up stairs to put them in their rooms. Austin heads down the hall to Daniel’s and you head to Alisas.
She does everything on her own in her fully custom princess room. She brushes her teeth, washes, her face and puts on her pajamas before climbing into her canopy bed.
You click on her unicorn night light and click off the main room light ready to head out . “Can you talk to me until I fall asleep” she asks in her soft voice.
It’s a big request because you have classes in the morning and you are tired but you want to bond with her so you pull up a child size hot pink princess throne and sit next to her bed.
“What do you want to talk about hun?” You ask holding her smaller hand in yours and tracing your thumb over her freshly painted hot pink nails.
“Youre not going to leave are you?” She asks with her timid voice.
You reassure her “I am going to go to my apartment and then I’ll come back and see you next weekend when your back from your moms.” you smile warmly as you tuck a stray hair behind her ear.
Her face suddenly saddens “mommy wants to make you go away” her eyes brim with tears and her lip pouts as it quivers.
“Aw honey“ you say as you pick her out of bed and place her on your lap. You pet her sandy brown hair and shush her. She begins sobbing against your chest. You pull her face back to look in her eyes. Her face is bright red with tears streaming by this point.
“Alisa honey …aw honey… sometimes people say things they don’t mean.” You wipe her tears. ”You know maybe your mommy is angry because I’m new in your life and she wants to make sure that I’m taking the very best care of you” you pinch her small chin. She still has a sad look in her eyes but she has stopped crying and is now sniffling.
“Mommy is mad because in daddy’s phone she found pictures of you.” she says through her sniffles as she finally starts calming down.
“What kind of pictures“ you ask patting her shoulders comfortingly“
“Like pictures when you bend over?” she admits not sure what it means.
Your face goes bright red not expecting her to say that “Well yes that’s ..um that’s not appropriate how did you find this out sweety ?”You ask out of pure curiosity.
“I heard mommy talking to her boyfriend that daddy is a per-vert he takes lots of pictures when you bend over. What is a per-vert?” She asks with an innocent curiosity not knowing the word.
You sigh gaining more information than you ever wanted to know. “How about I tell you a bed time story?” You say to distract her and she nods smiling and snuggles in your arms. You begin to make up one about Princess Alisa and her hot pink unicorn that can fly to her castle in the clouds.
You are never one to pry into the affairs of your clients. You were a baby sitter for another celebrity couple, the Milanos, before his wife packed up and moved back to Italy with their triplets.
You received high recommendations from Mr. Milano to land the job with Mr. Butler due to your discretion and ability to always remain professional.
In the Milano mansion you witnessed several fights. Once Mr. Milano even backing out of his driveway drunk screaming at Mrs. Milano before he crashed into their courtyard fountain.
You took their sobbing triplets inside to avoid them having to watch their parents have another explosive outburst. You brought them to the their enormous playroom and turned on some kids follow along music until they were wiggling and dancing instead of crying.
A word about their issues never left your lips even when the paparazzi berated you with emails and bribes to be a source of information for the infamous impending Milano divorce splashed across every gossip site.
Even as you saw the exorbitant amounts being offered you knew your reputation would be diminished in the elite celebrity circle as a nanny and you’d be scrambling back to a form of lesser employment.
But as you cradled Alisa in your arms you realized this was a completely different scenario on top of the average celebrity family dramatics.
Your first divorced client may actually have a sexual interest in you.
As you finish your story you hold her close comforting her in silence. After a while her body begains to go slack. “I’m going to put you in bed now okay hun?” You say gently and she nods.
You place her in bed and pull her unicorn covers up to her chest. “Promise me you’ll come back”she asks in her sweet sleepy voice trying to keep her eyes open.
You reassure her “Yes Alisa I’m coming back” you pet her hand.
“Even if my daddy is a per-vert like mommy says?” she asks as your brows furrow at the complication.
“Alisa” Austin’s voice snaps from the doorway. You wonder how long he’s been there as you slightly panic. “You should’ve been asleep a long time ago now it’s very late and you have school in the morning next time I’m not going to let you stay up like this” he says sternly.
“I’m sorry daddy” Alisa says sleepily.
You interject “Mr. Butler… Austin, sorry it’s my fault the nails, the girl talk bed time story I guess we just got carried away.” You say smiling weakly looking at him with newfound eyes realizing he might have a little naughty photo collection of you in his phone.
He smiles to you “No you're fine I think she just gets really excited having you around I’m going to make sure she goes down. Just wait for me a minute downstairs.” He says as you cross paths. He sits on Alisa’s bedside as you leave the room.
You walk down the hall but slowly enough to listen in and pry. Their voices are muffled but you distinctly hear him in his softest sweetest voice ask her ”Now what were you silly girls talking about in here”
She loves her daddy you know she’s going to rat. You quickly make your way down the stairs through the living room and exit the front of the house.
You enter your car and hold the steering wheel wondering if he’s going to fire you now because his daughters spilled his little secret. “UGHhh!” You exclaim because he pays you four grand just to work weekends every month with the sweetest kids on the planet.
You’ve signed an NDA but that’s still an awkward topic to ignore especially being in close proximity with him, likely complications will arise. You’ll work for him one more weekend and ask him for a recommendation to another high status family.
You look up through the windshield to see Mr. Butler jogging out of his modern glass front estate down to your car. You roll down your window confused. “I thought you left” he says out of breath. “I told you to wait for me downstairs” he says as he reaches into his pocket. “For the overtime” he says handing you a small stack money. Your eyes light up as you accept it.
Counting through a thousand dollars you raise your brow as you look up at him. “Mr. Butler… there’s no way all of this is just for overtime.”
He slicks his hand back through his hair looking around to other houses in the distance before he looks back to you with a grin “How about you come in tomorrow on your day off and you make it up to me” he says slyly.
You fold the stack in your hand and bring it to your purse. “Okay if that will make us even” you say matter of factly.
He flashes you a charming smile “It’s a date then” he says stepping back from your car “And tomorrow call me Austin” he says as you pull out of the driveway of his estate.
You can’t quite put your finger on it but the whole interaction felt a little off. But maybe he was just nervous about what Alisa may have said to him.
If he needs your help with his sweet kids tomorrow you’re all for it. You turn up the music to play on your way home.
Make It Up to Me
The next day during your morning college course you receive a text from Austin. “Come by at 6:30pm house unlocked” you knit your brow in confusion. Usually you arrive at 10am to help with the kids then it dawns on you it’s a weekday his kids are in school and probably have extracurriculars after so you type in “okay”
After classes you go to the gym and work out for an hour of cardio. You like to stay fit as a baby sitter if a kid can out run you, your toast.
You take your usual Monday cycling class and leave covered in sweat. You shower and open your locker to realize because of the work schedule change you didn’t pack street clothing. You left your apartment wearing your work out gear. Now instead of heading home you’re driving to Malibu.
“Shit” you say finding only a clean pair of black yoga shorts and a sports bra in your locker. “great job “ you murmur to yourself “Wear the skimpiest out fit to your employers house after you find out he probably takes photos of your ass” you roll your eyes at your luck.
Your strait laced thoughts suddenly start to slip as you try to think of when he would take the inappropriate pictures.
There was a time he had you climb a ladder in his storage room to carry down hoolah hoops for the kids. Then proceeded to have you all compete in the living room to see who was the fastest.
You were of course and he readily filmed it as you laughed trying to keep the rhythm of your hips going. His kids had already dropped theirs to the floor and were fumbling and giggling so you stopped to help them.
There was another instance when he installed a boot camp playground for his son before his birthday. He wanted you to test it out with the kids. You guys balanced on beams climbed ropes and had to shimmy on your belly’s under ropes through a sand pit. The low angle he filmed as you crawled didn’t make sense then.
Once somehow Daniel’s nerf football was thrown up into his tree house and the ladder had not been repaired. The kids would be dropped off in an hour and Mr. Butler was adamant you retrieve Daniels nerf football.
He followed you to the yard down the hill to the garden infront of the large tree with the custom house built into its branches. He hoisted you up by cupping and pushing your ass to get you higher. You laughed at the embarrassing way you needed to be helped. You finally wiggled into the tree house, throwing the nerf foot ball down.
You sat on the ledge and Austin gestured you to jump down to him ”please catch me, I don’t have independent health coverage” you joked. “If I break your bones I’ll mend them come to me” he gestured.
You jumped off landing into his arms both falling back onto the grass. His pupils were huge as you stared down at him panting and smiling. You quickly stood up and offered him your hand.
You realize you will definitely have to keep your distance he’s already been trying you.
But you really need this job. It’s saving your life right now he is your highest paying client by far. Your bills are paid your gym membership is renewed and you actually have a savings account.
You begin to wonder if your next employer will treat you as well and pay as much. It’s highly doubtful
You know the kids will be there today and you can leave early with a made up excuse before they fall asleep. Even on weekends you can just plan to leave early every time and should be completely safe.
You search through your locker again trying to find anything to cover you from wearing just sports bra and shorts to his house. You find a zip up black long sleeve jacket to match.
But it’s all form fitting accentuating your ass by covering your top and leaving your legs exposed. You shake your head in annoyance, it will have to do. You don’t have time to head back to because you thrive on being punctual. You tie up your hair in a pony tail and leave the gym.
You drive the route to Mr. Butlers estate with the windows rolled down listing to music. You pull up to his place at around 6:30. You walk in to the grandios living room to find the estate empty. No Austin, no kids, no maid, not anyone.
You reach in your purse and take out your phone texting Mr. Butler. “Where is everyone?” It takes a moment but you see the little dots moving showing he’s typing back.
He texts “movie room”. You’ve never been down there before.
To make sure it’s not a danger zone you text him back “kids with you?” You await his response there isn’t one.
After a moment he finds you in the living room and smiles as he sees you.
“It felt kind of weird texting you and were in the same house…” his voice trails off seeing what your wearing
You tug down your sleeve and clutch you purse closer to your body.
“Sorry it’s unprofessional of me I know but I’ve never been here during a weekday and I forgot to pack the extra clothing.”
He makes a hmm sound looking you over in amusement.
“You must work out a lot to have legs like that” he compliments and your face flushes.
“Don’t be shy about it” he says grinning as he walks by you to the kitchen.
He’s wearing sweats and a black tee but youve always eyed he’s in very good shape himself. He pulls a bottle of wine tucking it under his arm and pulls two Reidel glasses out.
“Come watch a movie with me” he says innocently.
“Mr. Butler..I mean Austin, with all do respect I can’t.” He eyes you mischievously.
“You believe everything an eight year old tells you?” Your face flushes Alisa totally ratted to her daddy.
He has a knowing smile that you return because how did Mr. Butlers ex-wife even have access to his phone?
Maybe Alisa’s mom had it wrong, sometimes moms exaggerate to their kids to villainize daddy. Austin seems very kind.
He motions you to join him and this time you follow him down the stairs to the movie room. He pushes open the doors with his back and it opens to a theater space with five rows of black custom movie couches, it’s a small amphitheater.
“Holy fuck” you say before covering you mouth cursing infront of a client. Your previous clients the Milanos movie theater fails in comparison to this.
Along the back wall he has framed posters of every movie he’s starred in. You begin walking along and inspecting each one.
He approaches you from behind and hands you a glass of wine.
“Oh thank you … but I’m not allowed to drink, well I’m legally not allowed to drink until next year .” you smile shyly as your face flushes.
The way he stares at you in disbelief makes you feel awkward.
“You’ve never even had a drink?” He asks lowering his tone.
You tuck your hair behind your ear feeling the heat rising to your face as you try to explain.
“Well I was always honor roll and very goal oriented, not much time for friends. Then I got accepted to a great college on a scholarship. My room and board is paid by it so I really only have time to do my course work, workout ,and come to your house Mr. Butler. From what I can see, drinking kind of makes people wild and crazy and dumb, anyway it never really interested me.”
He warmly smiles at you. “Well maybe they are drinking hard liquor this is wine, it’s not instant like a shot, it takes a while to build in your system“
“if hard liquor makes you crazy, what does wine feel like?” You ask intrigued.
“Mmm like a really mellow mood, no more stress no more anxiety you can just be yourself.” He smiles.
You mull it over staring into the red liquid, thinking about how anxious you are waiting for his kids to get here already. Maybe just a glass. You lift it to sip and he gestures you not to.
“This is a nice bottle when you drink you have to cheers to something.” He proclaims.
“Oh..” you say not familiar with drinking customs. Your mind draws a blank.
His eyes squint for a minute until he catches a thought
“To a great working relationship” he says and it makes you smile and cheers him clinking glasses then taking a drink. He rests his glass down “You really are phenomenal the kids adore you by the way”. He admits.
You both look over at his Elvis movie poster you have been standing in front of.
“You ever seen this?” He asks because of your age.
“No I haven’t, are you good in it?” you ask curiously and he nearly snorts his wine as he takes a sip.
He wipes his mouth with the back of his hand.
“I almost won an Oscar” He exclaims profoundly. “That’s what we’re gonna watch then” he says leaving you to set everything up in the theater.
He sits center mid row and you sit next to him on the black custom theater couch putting your purse on the table rest of your seat.
You wait as he finds the film in his catalogue with his universal remote then dims the lights. The theater is completely dark and silent.
He refills your wine glass as the credits start. It’s a very haunting Elvis melody. Followed by a montage of him dressed as Elvis. Finally you see him “Wow you look so different with black hair, you say but the theater has surround sound speakers.
He can’t quite hear you so he turns the volume down. You begin divulging too much feeling a bit dizzy.
“Oh Mr. Butler no I don’t want to ruin the movie, you don’t have to turn it down, I was just saying you look so different with black hair it really brings out your eyes. You have very pretty blue eyes” you say staring at him a little too long in the dim lighting.
You wonder why you are suddenly turned on and shake the thought from your head. He listens to your tipsy rambling and smirks refilling your glass.
“I’ve seen this movie over a dozen times I’d rather hear you talk honestly” he admits glancing over at you affectionately.
The movie continues to play at a lower volume the bright flashing colors and lights are a dizzying spectacle to your eyes.
Him wearing green, him wearing pink, him jiggling his dick on the screen. “Wait what?” You exclaim. As you sit up he laughs. “I swear I just saw! Oh!! You did it again” you rest back in your chair wondering why you are becoming wet.
The movie continues and you are fully invested in every word he says. His southern drawl is resonating in your ears.
He pours you a glass one more time as the Trouble scene comes on smiling to himself. When the scene shows him on stage you are already labored breathing because he looks so good in eyeliner. As he begins to sing and then dance on the sceeen you audibly gasp.
Why is it so sexual isn’t this the 50s? You watch as he kneels and rises from the floor as women in the audience on screen reach for his cock. “holy fuck” you say out loud as you breath heavily.
You wonder if he can really do that… inside of you. You squirm in your seat too heavily aroused
“Fuck Mr. Butler.. I mean Austin” you say a little slurred and he pauses the movie on the scene when he’s in the cop car.
“Mr.B- -Austin I didn’t eat, and I worked out, and I had the wine, and now I feel really weird…oh god!” you exclaim standing up from the couch “The kids what time is it!”
He stands with you and watches as you try to steady your balance. “The kids aren’t coming” he admits.
“What?!” You exclaim louder than you intended trying to focus your eyes feeling like they are vibrating.
“The kids aren’t coming because it’s a week day” he says looking at you as if you got the plans wrong.
You go over in your mind how he handed you the money and you try to remember his exact words ‘Come on your day off and make it up to me’ you realize he wants you to make it up sexually. You take a step back “Oh god Mr. Butler”
“Austin” he interjects
You take another step back “Mr. Austin I can’t - - ”
He cuts you off again “Just -Austin” he says.
Your back hits the wall behind you in a pathetic attempt to avoid his alluring aura. He places his hands to the wall on either side of your head cornering you and standing so closely you can smell his cologne.
“I tried luring you in so many ways but you were just so professional you never relaxed your guard around me. But I finally figured out how to loosen you up.” He says with a smile.
He stares into your eyes with a burning intensity wanting to watch your reaction as he admits it
“A pinch of ecstasy in a full glass of wine.” He smirks
“What!” You exclaim in shock that he’s already drugged you.
He smiles “A good girl like you wouldn’t even know what was happening to her.” He confesses with an alluring smile.
He lowers his head next to your ear “Why do you think you’re having so much fun?” he whispers to you as a strange sensation falls over your body.
He smiles against your ear and hovers his mouth over your neck fanning your sensitive skin as he speaks "You didn't leave me another way to have you.....it’s a shame I had to make it this way." He says as he licks his tongue in a trail along your neck.
You go weak and cover with chills as he starts to kiss and suck your neck making your body begin to tingle all over especially between your legs. It suddenly makes sense why the movie colors were so vivid and you felt shocks to your core that made you wet every second he was on screen.
You have fallen in to his trap.
Your breathing increases and you weakly put your hands on his firm chest trying to stop him but it's in vain. You can't fight the effect he has over you. The wine and the ecstasy make you completely surrender to his touch, you want more of him as he wants more of you.
He reaches his hand between your legs and presses his fingers against your pussy. It radiates pulses of pleasure throughout your entire body. A small moan escapes your lips. “Your fucking soaked “ he says looking at his wet fingertips.
You grab his hand placing it back to your aching pussy wanting him to touch you more you are craving it but he smirks.
He brings his hand up to your throat placing it gently there instead gazing directly into your eyes knowing he has complete control to pervert you to his wishes.
“I never took a good girl Ike you to be such a slut” he teases and you whimper. “Go on beg your boss to touch you like a slut“ he commands.
You slowly muster up the words “please… touch me”
You feel his hard cock press across your thighs instead making your core clench
“Is that what you want?" He asks leaning in to suck onto your neck again.
“Yes! Please Mr.Butler touch me” your desperate tone makes his cock harder.
"What did I tell you about my name?" He asks rubbing his hand against your pussy.His touch sends shocks of pleasure radiating through your body distracting you from saying his name
"A-Austin!!" you finally cry out.
"You’re so cock drunk you can't even form words" he says smiling in amusement as he kisses his way up your neck to your lips.
He takes you into an erotic kiss gaining instant access to your wanting mouth. He glides his tongue in and twirls it against yours while devouring your lips. He pulls you from the wall back into the aisle and pushes you down on the couch breaking his kiss and making you lay flat.
He holds your legs up pulling the band of your shorts to peel them off of you with your panties, leaving you half naked.
He climbs on top of you settling between your legs. His eyes are full of lust as you see them roam your body. He slowly unzips your jacket exposing your body in your sports bra.
"Fuck you look incredible" he says trailing his hand down your stomach.
His left hand hooks his thumb into your sports bra pulling it up enough to let your tits out of their confinement. He gets his phone out of his pocket and takes a photo with flash.
You turn away as it hurts your sensitive eyes. Any dignity you had left was shattered as soon as he took the compromising photo.
“Please delete it Austin!” you beg him with your entire career on the line if he shows anyone.
"Delete it?” He smirks “No, I’m gonna use it blackmail you into doing whatever I desire, and if you deny me it’ll be posted anonymously so everyone will know what a slut you really are” he confesses.
“Austin please I’ll do what ever you say please don’t post the photo” you beg him almost in tears the photo would ruin you.
He smiles and squeezes one of your full tits then the other. He tugs at your nipples making you gasp “Our little secret then” He says enamored, he finally has you at his mercy.
Suddenly you feel him slowly sink two of his fingers in your tight cunt. He starts to pump them in pulling against a hard ridge inside that makes your hips buck up.
"Austin!" you moan out as he sends shock of pleasure all over your body.
Your core gets tighter as he continues to finger you massaging your tight walls. You are heavily panting feeling the release of so many endorphins firing at once from the ecstasy.
Austin notices the way your legs tremble as your walls flutter against his fingers, you’re going to cum. He increases his pace enjoying his wet knuckles smacking against your folds as you moan.
"Austin please don't stop!" you plead as you start to climax. He places his other hand across your pelvis pressing down and using his thumb to circle your clit.
You are high pitched moaning with your core so tight it feels like it will snap.
“Cum for me” he commands and you clutch his wrist feeling how he shoves his finger inside of you as your orgasm.
You deeply moan as sparks explode in your core and radiate through your body. He continues to finger you into aftershock until your back arch’s from the couch as you cry out for him . Then he slows to a stop.
“I know, I know” he says cooing at you as he caresses your jaw. It was an intense orgasm you are panting and shivering trying to regain your breath. You rest your head back on the couch in a daze.
The ecstasy in your system has increased your arousal to its peak you have lost all control over your body.
You watch Austin pull a condom from his pocket and tear it open. He reaches in the band of his sweats and releases his thick cock.
“Oh god..." you say in a shock because he is so well endowed
"Such a slut for letting your new boss fuck you like this" He says as he smiles at you. He presses the condom to the head of his cock and carefully rolls it down his shaft. He sees you eyeing his every movement.
"Just a condom on the first time. In the application you sent in it said you are not on birth control, but we’re gonna fix that" he confesses.
Your eyes widen in shock as you whimper. You gave up so much information on your hiring form most that didn’t even pertain to the job. He knows: What college you go to, where your parents live, all of your social media handles, even your time of the month, among so many other things. He has it all thought out and trapped you officially.
“When Mr. Milano referred you to me, I was shocked he’d ever give you up , but with his divorce… no more kids no more babysitter.” He smiles “You were the hottest thing I’d ever seen. The picture he sent of you innocently smiling in your tennis outfit at his house.I pleasured myself to your photo right there at my bathroom sink.” He gazes lustfully between your legs “and now I finally get to try your sweet pussy”
You let out a moan as he settles between your legs and parts your thighs wider. He rests his chest to yours and aims his cock for your entrance. As he penetrates you grip his shoulders and cry out from the piercing of his size.
"MMm my good girl taking my cock so well..-fuck-..your so tight" he says as you gasp for air feeling the stretch. He slowly makes you take every inch of him until it’s too painful.
"It’s too much A-austin! Too m-much!!" you plead as your eyes well with tears and your nails dig into his shoulders.
You don't think you can handle it as you start to feel how big his cock is.
"Be a good girl and take it all for me" he says as he trusts himself deep sinking in all the way to your core. Your back arcs but no sound escapes your throat from the pain as the ecstasy amplifies it.
He works into you your stunned body at a gentle pace “Don’t worry pretty girl…the pain will subside … and you will like it.” he reassures you and plants kisses on your neck to distract you as he thrusts into you stretching your tight walls. After a moment his words are true the pain transforms into pleasure and he hears your sweet moans in his ears.
He puts his left hand on your hip increasing his thrusts pushing his deepest to hit your cervix. He turns your head exposing the other side of your neck to kiss and suck your most vulnerable spot creating a bruise.
He pins your hands above your head and tilts his hips thrusting at a deeper angle and increasing your moans. His hips begin smacking into yours as you cry out on each one of his thrusts.
“Austin I’m so close” you admit in passion.
“Gonna make you cum with me” he breaths increases his speed until he’s wracking your body with his plows.
“I’m gonna cum!” You yell making his cock twitch. He groans as he pumps you full of his seed. He grips your shoulders for leverage and pushes even deeper. You both moan in unison as you orgasm.
He finishes panting heavily above you staring into your eyes. He is thoroughly satisfied and already wants to feel every ridge of your walls without a condom.
You look back up at him as you regain your breath, it was the best sex you ever had.
“I’m gonna pull out now” he says and you nod as he slides his shaft back until his cock head slips out. You both moan from the loss of contact. He slowly stands from the couch and pulls the condom off of his cock until it snaps. He fixes his sweats and discards the condom in a lined bin.
You quickly find your panties and your shorts and pull them back on then you stand and zip up your sports jacket. Austin raises the lights to brighten the room as he turns all the other settings in the movie theater off with his universal remote.
“Earlier when you mentioned you didn’t eat I wanted to feed you. Can I feed you now” He asks over his shoulder.
You collect your purse. “No I think I’ll just go home.” You say nervously. He turns to look at you then.
“I want you to stay” he offers but you shy away “Austin I have classes in the morning I really wasn’t planning for …all of this”
He approaches you slowly tucking his finger under your chin. He sees in your eyes you are too drunk to even leave his estate.
He smirks knowing you’ll have to stay the night and he’s going to enjoy you again and again. He also has something he can give you that will always get his way with you.
“How much do I owe you for baby sitting me then” he asks slyly looking away to retrieve his phone. He opens the app to transfer money directly to your account. He leaves the number space blank as he hands it to you.
You look up at him knowing it was the best sex of your life but the way he corrupted the situation and controls you with it. You decide to go all in, typing in the number you want and handing it back to him. Double your monthly salary.
His eyes light up in amusement and he immediately hits send. You are well worth it. He wants you more and he quickly thinks of a way to get you to stay during the week.
Your phone alerts the transfer is complete and your stomach jumps in excitement looking at the amount in your banking app. He smiles seeing how happy you are.
As your eyes meet he gazes at you lustfully “For that amount you’ll have babysit me for the rest of the week then.” He admits.
End
To be continued due to high demand ♥️☺️🥀
Available now ♥️
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imaginesbymk · 2 years ago
Text
RESERVOIR DOGS PREFERENCE
FINDING OUT YOU HAVE A MINIMUM WAGE JOB
Characters: Mr. White (Larry), Mr. Orange (Freddy Newandyke), Mr. Blonde (Vic Vega), Mr. Pink, Mr. Brown + “Nice Guy” Eddie 
Tags: —
Taglist: @locke-writes​ & @aryn-the-bearheart​
A/N: something lighthearted and random! enjoy and leave a like/reblog/feedback <33 ^.^
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MR. WHITE ( LARRY ) —
Mr. White seeing you bagging groceries wearing a bright vest with your name on it is just so unimaginable.
He makes your job easier by helping you bag his own groceries (even tho nowadays in most stores you have to do it yourself?)
“Your manager’s paying you well, right?”
“Larry, this is Wal-Mart. I don’t get paid enough to bag people’s odd choice for frozen dinners and tennis shoes.”
He swears not to tell a soul. But he visits you at work because he needs to go to the store every week.
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MR. ORANGE ( FREDDY NEWANDYKE ) —
Mr. Orange notices you as the new sales associate at the comic book store.
You’re stocking merchandise on the top shelves, using the ladders.
“Y/N?” He calls you down. You froze, fearing the worst for all retailers, seeing someone you know at your own workplace is so embarrassing.
He doesn’t care at all, though. He’s just looking for the limited edition of the action figures he wanted. 
Probably wants you to smuggle him a lifelong supply of Marvel stuff from the back.
Orange makes a smug look when he’s at the counter. 
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MR. BLONDE ( VIC VEGA ) —
The thing is, Blonde KNOWS you work at Big Kahuna, and becomes a total dick when you serve him.
It’s literally Squilliam making fun of Squidward for working at the Krusty Krab.
“I asked for no onions and tomatoes in my burger.”
“Wow, Vic. You’re a convict and a picky-eater. Grow up.”
Big Kahuna is one of his go-tos, so you don’t have much of a choice but to serve him food.
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MR. PINK —
Of course... you’re a server at a restaurant
He’s just making fun of you, literally treats you the way a snobby customer treats their server.
“Whatever. What do you want? We’re serving the lunch special.”
Snapping his fingers at you to get your attention across the room
You threaten to spit in his food if he makes one more joke, and you mean it.
“Pink, I told you. We don’t serve those here.”
He doesn’t tip. 
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MR. BROWN —
You work at the local Blockbuster.
"Hey, where’s the Spaghetti western movies?" You turn around and see Mr. Brown at the front desk.
Both your jaws are on the floor, staring at each other in pure shock.
He can’t stop giggling at you now, much to your annoyance.
It’s a good thing you know enough about your job and where everything is, so every time Brown comes in the store he always comes to you for movies he wants to rent, and you would put it on the store TV and watch it with him
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“NICE GUY” EDDIE CABOT —
Eddie seeing you at the dry cleaners when he has to get all the suits ready was a big surprise for him.
“I don’t believe it. From a distance, I was thinking to myself, ‘Hey, that mf kinda looks like y/n’, and lo and behold!”
He uses this to his advantage, though. He wants his, his Dad’s and the people his dad recruits’s clothes clean and tailored to a T.
You’re gonna be his go-to for clean suits from now on.
Would come in, cheerily calling for you or greeting you.
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