#please please please understand what I was trying to say

[reignpage]

When the Night Changes

Synopsis: in which you've been following your coworker around, trying to wriggle your way into his good graces, only to realise maybe there was never any room to begin with Warnings: a little angsty at the beginning but happy ending, office romance, rom-com, the beginning of a love story vibes -- maybe office sex next?👀, not proofread Word Count: 2.4k

Your coworker, Nanami, is a tough nut to crack. Since entering the company, you’ve stuck by him like dirt on a shoe — which is certainly how he thinks of you, you’re sure. In many ways, you’ve become an integral part of his life. 

Being the first thing he sees in the morning when he steps foot in the office is a duty you take very seriously. In fact, sometimes you time everything perfectly to run into him just as he’s entering the lobby. Then, with a wide smile, you greet him.

“Good morning, Nanami. How are you?”

His answer is always the same, of course: “Morning. I’m well.”

He doesn’t ask about you. He never really does. But that doesn’t matter because he doesn’t interrupt when you go on your spiel about how you slept, what you had for breakfast, how the traffic was and so on and so forth. 

During the day, you’ll sporadically stop by his office, popping your head in. You don’t have anything important to say, usually, but you always find something to say, nonetheless. 

“Heya, Nanami. I was looking out of the window and into the street earlier. I saw the cutest dogs ever. They were sniffing each other’s butts. I think they’ll be great friends. Do you ever want dogs?”

The man doesn’t look up from his computer. Instead, he continues to type, a perpetual frown pulling his brows and lips down as he works on whatever he’s working on. Still, he responds, “No.”

“Why?” You ponder. “Don’t like dogs? Prefer cats? Or you don’t like pets at all?”

“I can’t take care of an animal; I’m much too busy.”

That’s a huge lore drop if you’ve ever heard one. You beam. He’s warming up to you and it only took months! You leave him to it with a bigger smile on your face that you came with. 

When lunchtime comes around, you sit by him in the canteen. Nanami sits in the corner, by the window, alone. Well, alone with you but he doesn’t complain. So, you do your thing. 

“Oh, look! We chose the same main. We must be meant to be, right?”

No reply. 

“You drink coffee with your lunch? All I ever see you drink is coffee. Unless it’s at an after-work dinner, in which case you can drink anyone under the table. That’s really impressive!”

That piques his interest. Gaze lifting to meet yours, he clarifies, “You think alcoholism is impressive?”

“Uh…”

“Please, be more conscious of what you say.” Nanami places his utensils together, they clink in a way that pierces through you. Flinching, you’re left silenced when he gets up and leaves with no further word to you. 

Stuck in your head, you replay that conversation again and again an hour or two later. You hadn’t meant to insult him. Maybe you were a little thoughtless with your words, maybe you shouldn’t have assumed his business after work is any of yours. In either case, you should apologise. 

At the end of the day, you follow him out, pushing past the other people to try and reach him before he walks the other way to you. When you emerge through the crowd, you see him. 

Him and a woman. 

She’s gorgeous. With a slight smirk on her lips, she holds a cigarette between her fingers as she converses with Nanami. You understand now. Of course he doesn’t give you the time of day; he’s got a beautiful girlfriend who’s nothing like you. 

The next morning, you aren’t there to greet him with a blinding smile as soon as he steps foot into the workplace. His eyes find you, behind your desk, typing away with your head down. He frowns. 

Sometime later, he sees a glimpse of you by his door. He braces himself for your mindless chattering, but when you simply walk past his office, he hears an irritating noise echo in his corner — he’s fiddling with a pen, tapping the head against the wood of his desk in rapid succession. Nanami didn’t know he had such a habit. 

At lunch, you don’t sit by him. In fact, he doesn’t see you at all. That’s how the rest of the week passes. He doesn’t know why it bothers him so. Though he never resented your presence, he also never thought much of it. You’re young and new; you just wanted a stable figure around. Nanami is not that. 

In the hallway, you pass him by with a respectful bow, but your eyes don’t meet his even as he purposefully slows down to catch them. An odd ache thuds thuds thuds in his chest. 

Why does he care so much?

Could it be he’s actually grown to care? 

Had he really let his guard down so much that you, a non-sorcerer, could find its way into his world?

He wonders, then, what to do with this predicament. On one hand, he could always ignore this odd sensation in his stomach, somewhat akin to moths zipping around, and on the other, he could try and see where this will go. But is he too late?

You were so lovely to be around and now you’re avoiding him like the plague. Had he said something? Did he offend you?

Nanami’s thoughts are filled with all sorts of questions that evening. When he wakes up the next day, there are bags under his eyes, much deeper and darker than usual. There’s nothing he could do about them, though, so he dresses himself the way he does all the time — under layers, socks, pressed pants, ironed shirt, tie, a blazer and then his shoes. 

One thing he does do differently, however, is hold two cups of coffee in his hands when he enters the lobby. He sees you waiting for the elevator. Then, widening his strides, he reaches you just as the telltale ping resounds. 

“Good morning, Y/n. How are you?”

Surprised by his gravelly voice, you stammer, “I’m well. Ahem, h-how are you?”

He smiles. “I’m great. Coffee?”

You take the cup from him with suspicion lacing every twitch of an expression in your face. The man can’t help but find it adorable — what an odd thought. He’s never found a woman adorable before. Objectively good-looking, sure, in his lowest times. But usually, he can only make remarks regarding their work ethic. How fascinating. 

Parting ways, you both look back at the same, him with a welcoming nod and you with shock. This is turning out to be more fun than he thought; you are so animated. 

Later, he taps his pen against his chin, squinting at the window as he observes the street below. He’s trying to find something interesting. There are no dogs sniffing each other’s behinds, no ice cream van bringing joy on a warm day (as you mentioned to him last week), and there are no rainbows to take pictures of and show to everyone in the office. 

Of course, Nanami’s aware that it’s likely all to do with perspective — he’s been finding Tokyo rather monotonous these days. But that isn’t something he can change overnight. So, he resorts to a different tactic. 

“Hello, Y/n. Are you busy?”

Clanking, thudding and stuttering fill up your office; so startled by his sudden appearance in your space, you’ve jolted and rocked your entire desk around, knocking paperweights about the place. Clearly frazzled then, your tone comes out much harsher than you’d intended, he can tell. “What do you wan—I mean, sorry. Hi, Nanami. What can I do for you”

“Nothing. I was simply stretching my legs and looking for a sight to brighten my day.”

“Uhh…did you find one? I can help you look.”

He shakes his head and then, with a final sweep of your face, he nods and leaves. 

It’s obvious he’s the one to blame for the cautious look on your face which remains all the way until lunchtime when he stops by your office, curious to know where you’ve been eating your food. 

Just about to take your first bite, by the looks of it, you make a noise of embarrassment and frustration. “Nanami, why are you here?”

“I’d like to have lunch with you. Please join me in the canteen; I hadn’t prepared a lunchbox.”

“No. Shoo.”

He raises a brow. “Shoo?”

“Yes, go. I don’t know if you’re sick or you’ve been probed, but you’re acting weird today. Please, enjoy your lunch without me.”

Nanami takes a seat in front of you, crossing his legs and leaning back. The bastard’s making himself comfortable. Patiently, he responds, “To enjoy my lunch, you’d have to be with me. I rather like your stories.”

“My stories? I thought you hated them.”

“Why ever would you think that?”

Your arms flail in disbelief. “Hello? You never respond. You just grunt in that man-ish way.”

“I do?”

“Yes!”

Both of you are aware this is the longest conversation you’ve ever shared. It’s almost comical how naturally the sentences flow out between you when before you were lucky if he even responded to a question regarding anything but work. 

“Well, I do apologise for giving you that impression. I love hearing your stories. Especially the ongoing one regarding your aunt and her disloyal partner.”

You beam. “Oh my God! Speaking of, you will not believe what happened last— Hey! Don’t distract me. You know what you’re doing.”

“I do?”

Groaning, you smack your head against the desk. Nanami winces. In a flash, he’s taken hold of your face, tilting your chin back to inspect your forehead. There’s no mark. Thank goodness. 

“Please be careful. That sounded like it hurt.”

You frown and then fall limp in his grasp. Nanami’s making it so difficult for you to keep your distance. You wanted to squash your crush and be respectful of his relationship but then he goes and caresses your cheek with his thumb like you’re precious. To him. Muttering, you complain, “You shouldn’t do that. What would your girlfriend think?”

A pause so thick it’d have to be cut with a chainsaw.

And a silence so loud it’s deafening. 

He blinks and then laughs. It’s a nice sound; he really ought to laugh more.

“Girlfriend? I don’t have a girlfriend, Y/n. Whoever sold you that egregious lie?”

“But…but…there was a woman. She had short hair. Very pretty. You met with her after work.”

Leaning back in his chair, he rubs a hand over a grin so unlike him it almost transforms his face into someone else’s entirely. Nanami practically looks a decade younger. Before you had always looked up to him as this wise, mature, and experienced leader. Now, he just looks like a man. A very handsome, drool-worthy man, but a man, nonetheless. 

Now, he actually looks…attainable. 

“That would be Shoko. A friend. I assure you; we do not regard each other in that capacity. Far from it.”

“Oh.”

He checks his watch. He sighs. You watch him stand up and brush invisible dust off his pants. “If you won’t have lunch with me, then please, join me for dinner tonight. I’d like very much to hear all about your aunt and her unfortunate love life…But more than that, I’d like to hear about you.”

“Why?” You hadn’t intended to blurt that out but the way you said it sounds very much like you’re judging him for taking an interest on you. 

Features softening, he lets show a moment of vulnerability. “Because life is far too short to live with regrets.”

And he disappears, leaving you positively, irrefutably gobsmacked. 

The rest of the day for you goes by much longer than usual. Over and over again, your mind replays that conversation, from how out of nowhere it was to how natural it felt. Just a week before, you would have been over the moon to have had such an experience with Nanami — and you certainly still are — but now, you’re also worried about what it all means. 

From observing him, you’ve always had the feeling that he carried more burdens than anyone else does. There was an air of mystery, of danger, and of tragedy to him. Perhaps that was what lured you in in the first place. 

Now, he wants to have dinner?

As in, a dinner date? 

But you aren’t wearing date makeup. And you would have been working all day, sweaty and tired and ugly, no?

Where is he even taking you? What’s the lighting situation? 

God, you don’t even have a pack of gum.

When the day ends, there’s a pounding in your chest and a clamminess to your hands. Extraordinarily conscious of yourself, you grimace when you catch a glimpse of your reflection in the elevator mirror. Everything was wrong: your hair’s messy, your pores are huge, and your lips are chapped. 

So ridiculous is it all that you just about make a decision to hide in the bathroom when Nanami steps into view once the doors open, blocking your way out like somehow, he knew where you thoughts had ended up. 

“You weren’t, by any chance, going to leave me waiting, were you?”

“No,” you say, but the sheepish gummy smile you give him tells a different story. 

Nanami leads you out. With the sun setting, casting a warm glow about the place, you two stand there watching the city come to life with people just like you — stressed, anxious, and busy. You hear none of the noise of traffic, see none of the flash of lights obscuring the clear sky from sight, nor smell the pollution usually rife in such a populated city.

There’s a stillness in the air between you. A calm with no storm. The pounding of your heart leaves, so does the fight or flight instincts that had your nerves on edge. It feels like you’ve just taken a step inside the world of Kento. 

“You don’t have to have dinner with me. We can always return to normal. I won’t hold it against you if this sudden change is too much to come to terms with. But it’d be my pleasure if you would.”

Hesitantly —or shyly— you ask, “You want to take me out on a date?”

He meets your eyes. A small smile pulls at his lips. 

“I do.”

[swtheartz]

i loved your little drabble of the “breaking up with mark doesn’t work” post and i’d really like to hear your thoughts on how that would go down with some of his variants if you have the time pretty please🫶✨

ohh of course dear !! been thinking abt it and this req inspired me even more info : obsessive behavior, mentions and acts of murder, stalking, he’s crazy in every universe. gn!reader a / n : this is a gift to you guys for 348 followers. i’m soo grateful n happy <33

SINISTER MARK

he thinks it’s a joke at first. you’ve no real reason to actually want to leave him, right? he’s utterly convinced that there was nothing wrong with the relationship. and to be fair, there wasn’t. other than the fact he was possessive as shit and always had tabs on you. would scare off your friends and constantly linger around you whenever he wasn’t terrorizing the masses. the second he realizes that you’re serious? he doesn’t take it very well. you won’t ever find someone better than him. he won’t let you. just what human could ever be better than him?

“You’re not very good at jokes,” Mark says—voice and expression both hauntingly blank. It sends chills down your spine for the simple fact he’s never had such an empty tone. The way he looks at you is something that you can’t exactly put into words. Maybe he’s disappointed. Maybe he’s annoyed, or expectant, or some other emotion that you cannot be bothered to decipher. Not when there’s blood staining your clothes and his, the floor, your cheeks and his hands. Whatever ‘friend’ you were hanging out with was dead before they’d hit the ground. It’s been twelve days since you had gathered the courage to tell Mark you wanted a break, and it took him this long to take you seriously. Thought, it hadn’t taken much effort for him to take a life. “I don’t know why you thought this was a good idea. . .” He hummed, tilting his head as he crouched down in front of you, watching you tremble like a deer in front of an incomprehensible creature. ”But let’s not do this again, hm?”

OMNI MARK

calm. at least, he seems calm. but he also doesn’t take you very seriously. acts as he usually does, even asks you when the next date night is. as if he’ll even be able to make it with his schedule and how often he cancels on you. looks at you as though you’ve said something ludicrous when you answer that there isn’t a date night—you’re not together anymore. surely, you don’t know what you’re talking about. if you wanted him to plan the next date, you could have just told him. he’s usually the one that does all the thinking, anyway, so it doesn’t really matter. honestly, what made you think you could walk away from him? the one human he cares for, and you’ve the nerve to try and separate from him? funny.

“We’re not dating, Mark.” The way the two of you stare at each other for a few tense moments is a little awkward, though he doesn’t seem to care. He holds eye contact with you before sighing—like you’re a child who doesn’t know what they’re talking about. Like you’ve garnered the nerve to tell some dry joke. “If you have a problem,” Mark starts, arms crossed against his chest as he ignores your exasperated expression, “we talk it out. Like a couple is supposed to do.” “But we’re not a couple anymore. That is what I’m telling you.” You’re attempting to be reasonable, you really are, but you swear up and down he’s making you feel like the crazy one. This has got to be the third time you’ve had this conversation with him, and it hasn’t even been a week. There isn’t any way you can get through to him and you just don’t understand why. Mark scoffs, again, ignoring you. “I’ll make sure I’m not busy. Crime’s been going down, so it should be fine. They’ll manage without me.” “Just kill me already.” You mutter to yourself, unable to decide whether or not you’ll be able to ever get your point across. . . . You’ll just try again tomorrow.

FULL MASK MARK

more pathetic than mainstream mark. this man is like a wet cat in the rain. tries to maintain distance, but ends up following you everyday, texts you without thinking about it while he attempts to reason that it’s okay. you just need some distance and time, and maybe you’ll both get better. ends up outside your window after a particularly bad fight with a villain he had. he didn’t do it on purpose, he just sort of ended up here. call it muscle memory if you will. all he knows is that he’s a mess without you—needs you like oxygen, can barely think or focus on anything without you. probably the only one that tries to be the best he can be for you outside of the main universe. and probably the only one you didn’t really want to break up with.

“ ‘m sorry.”

“Markus.”

“ ‘m sorry,” Mark sniffles, face tucked into your neck as he clings to you. You’d think of it as pathetic if it were anyone but him, honestly. He’d shown up with your favorite candy and drink, bloody and looking like a stray abandoned on the side of the street. You practically had to drag him through the window when he tried to turn back around. It took a bit of insisting and a med-kit to get him cleaned and patched up, despite him reminding you that he technically didn’t need it. You snapped at him to shut up before inevitably pulling him to your room again—letting him stay the night was an easy decision, almost too easy. As of right now, he was simply listening to the sound of your heartbeat, your soft breathing, enjoying the way your gentle fingers tangled in his hair. It was sweet. Familiar. Something Mark had missed so much it made his heart ache and hurt, to the point felt as though it was being ripped apart. Though, if it were done by your hands, he wouldn’t mind.

a / n : i liked writing this, i might make a part two to this and i’m gonna make the healer reader thing a series if you guys are up to reading that. mwah mwahhhh

taglist : @lxkoluvsu // @broicouldjustbuyyousomekombucha // @tokoyamisstuff

[neeeooon]

Hello girlie🩷i hope u are alright. Could u please write the blue lock guys (isagi, bachira,sae, rin,nagi,kaiser) and anyone u want reacting to their children snapping at their mom being rude.

oooooo okay i’ll try!! thank you for the request 💖

when your kid snaps at you in front of them

husband + dad bllk x fem!reader. cursing. reader is called “mom”. kids being stupid! no abuse.

isagi yoichi

-> your household is less traditional, so you nor isagi care much when your children curse or ask you questions that would be “taboo” in other households

-> however, less traditional does not excuse your youngest son when he calls you a bitch after you tell him he can’t go to his friends house at midnight

-> you blink at him. then glance over your shoulder at your husband, who is staring at your son with the same bewildered expression. “what did you just say?” he asks with a surprised scoff

-> your son is pale. “i-i said ‘i understand. we can hang out another time with your permission.’” “that’s what i thought. go to bed.” “yep!”

bachira meguru

-> bachira isn’t one to get upset easily. he’s the fun dad, and you’re the stricter parent making sure things are taken care of and running smoothly behind the scenes

-> until your seven-year-old daughter throws a tantrum when you accidentally gave her your sandwich instead of hers. your sandwich with crust on it. “i hate you! you’re the worst mommy ever! i wish i had another—“

-> bachira scoops her up and props her on his hip, eyes more stern than you’ve seen them in a long time. “apologize. right now.” sniffling, your daughter wipes her eyes with her arms and mumbles out a weak apology. your husband nods once. “promise you won’t say anything like that to her ever again.” “i promise..”

itoshi sae

-> he doesn’t show it, but he’s laughing in disbelief when your son tells you he won’t go to school. you’d been trying to get him ready, and all morning he’s been dragging his feet and throwing himself to the floor. when sae catches your eye and sees that you’re not in the mood, he steps in

-> “come on, get up.” he tells your kid as he hoists him off the floor and kneels in front of him. “you’re going to school.” “but—“ “and you’re going to apologize to mommy first.” “but—“ “and if you say ‘but’ again, i’m taking your toys to work with me and leaving them there.”

-> that’s enough to get your son to stop and reach for his backpack with a deep pout. “i’m sorry mommy. i’ll go to school today.” you let out a long sigh of relief and silently tuck his lunchbox into his bag. “dad can take you. i need some me time.” sae doesn’t argue and gives you a quick kiss goodbye before grabbing his car keys

itoshi rin

-> he doesn’t know how to react, honestly. your daughter has never spoken back to either of you before. she can get dramatic at times and throw a tantrum every now and again, but she’s never been downright hostile

-> “i wish you weren’t my mom! juri’s mom buys her whatever she wants and let’s her stay up late!” “well, i’m not juri’s mom. i’m your mom.” “well, i wish you weren’t!” rin materialized after that, arms crossed over his chest as he caught your daughter’s narrowed eyes

-> his face is perfectly blank as he says, “i must have misheard you.” your daughter mimics his crossed arms in defiance, and rin cocks a brow. “apologize. or i’m calling juri’s mom and telling her to keep her daughter far away from you.” “what?! you can’t..! fine. i’m sorry.” “now give me your phone and go to your room.”

nagi seishiro

-> he’s quiet, but he’s observant when it comes to your children. he’ll sneak sweet treats into the cart when he sees them staring, he’ll let them teach him the slang they use in school, and he’ll carry them all to bed when they fall asleep during movie night. he’ll let them get away with a lot because he loves them, but when your youngest daughter snaps at you for asking her to turn her game off…

-> he easily swipes the controller from your daughter’s hands and places it on the highest shelf before turning the screen off. she opens her mouth to scream at him, but one seemingly disinterested glance back is enough for her to close her mouth in shame

-> “what do you say?” he drawls while gesturing in your direction. your daughter’s bottom lip juts out as she blinks up at you. “i’m sorry…” “now go hug her.” she does as told and let’s you scoop her up. “i won’t yell at you again.” “well, i appreciate that, sweetheart.”

michael kaiser

-> absolutely not. there’s no tolerance for that at all, and he makes it very known

-> your son got one word out in a shouting voice before kaiser squeezes his shoulder. it’s not enough to hurt, but it definitely shuts your son up

-> “not in my house. not to her. you are not going to stand here and belittle someone who’s spent your entire life giving and giving so you are safe and comfortable.” he scoffs and gently pushes your son forward so he’s in front of you. “you don’t know how lucky you have it, kid. now, apologize.”

[its-just-m]

I wanted to post something and seeing this just got me typing so most of this probably won't be related to the above.

As someone that gave up on sexuality as a whole when they were a teenager.

At the time I didn't have much freedom to look into it and anyone I did approach about the subject, regardless of gender, said no.

Trying to figure it out at ~30, as a virgin, sucks.

Not only virgin, never been in a relationship, never been on a date. After the 3rd or 4th person in a row saying the exact same thing "You? Pft, Never" I stopped trying.

Was never that good socially and I often put sentences together incorrectly. The meaning is mostly correct but sometimes the wrong word means the person never talks to me again. Never felt confident, often felt like I was the enemy. My physical appearance does not help matters, people treated me like I was dangerous and I started to believe them. So I stayed away from people whenever I could.

This went downhill quickly.

Edit: It's my eyes that people have issue with. Had them called "crazy eyes", "somehow dead inside and too aware at the same time", told I "see too much", had an army vet I worked with tell me "I feel like you have an incredible capacity for violence but society has told you your whole life it's wrong so you've locked it away and it's killing you". Like, bruh.

I had a bit of a (mid?) life crisis a while back, quit my job, got some piercings, and decided to try being more social and also some dating apps.

With the dating stuff I was so unprepared for a lot of the questions they asked, I spent a couple weeks looking stuff up and playing around with personality/ sexuality/ gender tests trying to find answers.

The answers I got were ...

Neutral.

Like,

Not straight, but not bi or gay either

Not cis, but not trans

Not binary but not NB/fluid

Not ace but not alo

There's one sexuality and gender test that has a square chart where each corner has either cis or gay or what have you.

Dead fucking center, both nothing and everything.

Edit: "contrary" might be a better word than neutral, possessing conflicting trais rather than none at all?

Even my looks are just average, not short but not tall, not thin but not obesse, I'm told I'm not ugly but apparently I'm not beautiful either, not ripped but no limp noodle, no big tits or "nice cock" to show off, but not so lacking as to be pitiful either.

I put finding answers on pause and tried to just answer all the dating questions as best I could and figured as I met people I would learn more about myself.

All I have learned is the only way I'm gonna get someone to talk to me or spend any time with me is by paying them. And my financial situation isn't impressive either.

I'm not bothered by the lack of success, I expected failure (though I had hoped i was wrong). More that I want to know who/what I am and I can't seem to figure it out because I don't have anything someone else wants and I can't afford to persuade them financially.

Looking at any kind of romance/ sexual media just makes me feel jealous and lonely. I can't put myself in any of the situations but somehow I could see myself on both sides and it doesn't seem likely to fufil the craving that I have.

Often times I will look at a person and not feel anything. Or I will acknowledge they are aesthetically pleasing. Sometimes I will feel something but struggle to decipher if it's lust or jealousy.

The only feeling I think I understand is the craving for intimacy. I struggle to explain it but it like all the things couples do but without the sex part, or maybe that part too but I don't understand it enough to know where it fits in.

I just want to learn things about them, to touch them in places that aren't inherently sexual but also need consent for.

And the same the other way around. I want someone to see that I have worth (other than the old man that runs the liquor store who's always high). I want to be comfortable enough around someone that being touched doesn't make me want to go light myself on fire.

Oof

Got thru all that and only that last one got me teared up.

Anyways, I've come across a couple things with older individuals exploring sexuality but it's usually either "I'm a virgin and I just need a dark-daddy to teach me pleasure" or "haven't had much luck with men and this chick is making me feel some type of way and btw I was so repressed lol" or 40yr old virgin type a story. Or yoai.

Mostly not helpful.

Idk, I think I've run out of words for the moment.

Edit: I want to add that I in no way feel entitled to the attention of others or that it's their fault for not wanting to be around me, more that I'm never going to be good enough anyways so why try. But then like, sometimes trying out of spite too.

Don't hesitate to ignore!

-M

characters in their 30's and older exploring their sexuality and discovering themselves beyond their teens and twenties is so important and beautiful and worth telling

[invincidick]

💗I'll be good💗

18+

Mark Grayson x F!Reader

Summary: PATHETIC MARK GRAYSON

Word count: 1.3k

Tags: Smut, mlw, Male Sub, Teasing, Edging, Hand jobs, aftercare

You and mark hadn't had sex in weeks.

That was perfectly okay with you, in fact you hadn't even realized until he was barging in through the window unannounced, stumbling over himself before falling onto your bed. He was sprawled out on your mattress, dick straining against his pants, he wasted no time and quickly began begging for you to touch him.

"Really Grayson?" you grinned, eyes raking over his large frame, suddenly not as intimidating when he's desperately begging you to let him cum.

"Please-" he whined out, hips bucking upwards against nothing in frustration at the lack of attention.

"I haven't- I haven't came in weeks." He paused, looking away as he spoke again. "You said I wasn't allowed to- do it without you." he managed to mumble out, his face practically red at this point.

"Was not being able to cum for a few weeks really that agonizing for you?" you strode towards him as you spoke, stopping in front of him to run a hand up his thigh, his leg jerking back at the sudden contact.

His head fell back against the mattress and he closed his eyes, anticipating your touch.

Except it never came.

He slowly opened his eyes to see that you had actually gone back to doing something at your desk, leaving him alone on your bed, painfully hard.

Confused, he sat up, calling out your name questionably, as you continued ignoring him, typing away at something on your computer.

Taken aback by your sudden change in demeanor, he got up and walked over to you, awkwardly standing beside you like a lost puppy. Unsure of what to do, he hoped you would eventually notice and take charge, but you didn't.

"I-" he began before you cut him off sharply "Yes?" you asked, not bothering to even glance in his direction. "Please?" he pleaded, frustration growing evident in his tone, assuming you'd understand what he was asking for. You once again took no notice in his cry for attention.

For a moment you're about to give in, thinking you've pushed him too far, but then he's kneeling beneath you, eyes begging you to touch him as you met his gaze.

He was desperate for you.

His arm reached for you, hand grasping at your knee, turning you towards him in your chair, as he rested his cheek on your other knee.

"I'll do anything you want, just please-, please touch me- I need you." he whined, his body ached as he reached his limit, cock twitching against the confines of his jeans.

You grin, something sadistic behind your eyes as your foot raises to press against his crotch.

He's immediately curling into himself, head dipping down, as moans spill out from his mouth, one arm shooting out to grip your ankle as it pushes against him.

Your toes firmly on the bulge in his pants and you've already got him whimpering. "T-Thank you" he manages to say between heavy breaths.

The little relief he did get was quickly overshadowed by your relentless need to tease him, because before he knew it you had pulled your foot away, not bothering to let him finish.

He groaned at the loss of contact, eyes half lidded and clouded with pleasure. Frustrated, he resigned to lie on his back against the cold floor to try ground himself, but then your foot was back, pressing against his length.

You continued, scrolling mindlessly on your phone throughout everything, as he writhed on the floor beneath your foot. Every time he started to calm down you would start to tease him again to keep him hard. You watched him fall apart a bit more each time you pulled away, loving the defeated noises it pulled out of him.

After just a few hours mark was a moaning incoherent mess, tears staining his face, precum soaking through his jeans, he was practically running a fever by human standards.

He kept begging for you to let him cum, slurring his words, chest heaving as the ache in his dick grew absolutely excruciating, not being able to focus on anything else.

He was a mess.

It drove you crazy.

You couldn't hold yourself back anymore and got up from your chair, walking over to your bed and sitting down.

He looked up at you, exhausted, brows furrowed, as he took in shallow breaths.

"Do you wanna cum?" you asked innocently. His eyes light up and he practically jerks himself off the floor as he speaks "Yes- please" stumbling towards you and onto your soft bed.

"Are you gonna be good?" He's shaking with excitement as you speak, quickly stammering out a reply. "Yes, I promise, I'll be good- I'll be so good- please."

He's hardly managing to hold himself upright, as you press a soft hand against his chest, forcing him to lie back against your blankets, resting his weight on his forearms.

You reach down to undo his jeans and his breath hitches in his throat, eyes slamming shut. You smirk, slowly pulling his jeans down just enough to slide his stiff dick out from his boxers. Your slender fingers wrap around his length and his back arches.

"Ah- fuck-" he whines out from the sudden contact. His brows knitted together with a mix of pain and ecstasy, embarrassed he reaches one arm up to lay across his eyes, shielding his face from your view as best he could.

You start to stroke your hand up and down his length, the pads of your fingers delicately sliding across each vein, enjoying the way his cock would twitch against the feeling.

Instinctively, his hips try their best to keep up, attempting to thrust up into each stroke. His other hand gripping the sheets as you slide a soft thumb across his tip, collecting a drop of precum and spreading it down his cock.

"Mmm-" he moaned, struggling against you, his body starts to shy away from your hand, trying to escape the unbearable assault of pleasure on his nerves. You notice and your other hand immediately catches his hip, pinning him down as he twitched .

"Mm-ah- no" he hiccuped "I can't-" he begged, tears streaming down his face, his breath heavy and hot as you continued your brutal pace.

"It's- too much-" more precum flowing out of him as he cried. He raised his foot, placing it on the bed, attempting to get any leverage to break loose from your ruthless grip on him. Your hand followed after him, speeding up it's pace as his whimpers got louder.

He whined, hips stuttering as he came into your hand, you worked him through it as he kept leaking more. It took him an entire minute before he was able to form a full sentence again, and you finally allowed him a break from the relentless teasing.

You brushed a tender hand through his hair as his breathing began to slow, relaxing against your touch. You got up to get a wash cloth to help clean up the mess, you helped him out of his jeans as you wiped him down.

"Oh you don't have to-" he tried to speak before you cut him off, "I want to" was all you said as you smiled down at him. You made him feel so cared for, he couldn't help himself from smiling back, he sat up lips meeting yours in a kiss as you lifted a hand to gently cradle his cheek.

You broke the kiss, standing up to strip down, his face flushing as you laid down beside him adjusting beneath the blankets. When you were both settled in he turned towards you arms snaking around your waist, holding you tightly against his chest.

"I'm so happy that i get to be with you." he spoke, his voice full of genuine love. "Me too, Mark" you said, as he held you softly in his arms, you both slowly drifting to sleep.

[thetarotyapper]

what makes you so alluring? (pick-a-card reading)

paid services 18+ paid services tarot community ko-fi

(how to pick a card? observe the given options and choose the one which you feel the most drawn to. select the card based on the number provided below and scroll down to read about the card you have chosen. remember, this is a general reading, so take what resonates! ps.- if you feel drawn to more than one card/image/pile, feel free to read the others too!! if the chosen pile doesn't relate to you, feel free to choose another. the choice is yours<3)

٠࣪⭑꩜.ᐟ pile 1

ace of cups, two of cups, 9 of cups, 3 of wands, 7 of pentacles

my lovely pile 1, with the ace of cups and two of cups coming out here, i see you are someone who is very loving and compassionate. you accept people for who they are and you’re a very understanding person. people love spending time with you because you just give out this comforting energy, it's almost irresistible. your kindness and your loving nature is what pulls people towards you. people can't help but just feel drawn to you, you know what i mean? your energy is so rejuvenating and when people talk to you, they feel so much lighter and better. but please be careful, im seeing that you might also attract a lot of negative energy. people see you as someone who can rescue them and because of this, im seeing that many people depend on you for emotional support. you might feel drained at some point but seeing people happy is your first priority and you know that people feel good when they are with you and that is what keeps you going. you are a very empathetic person and im seeing that many people would like to be your friend. 

with the 9 of cups and 7 of pentacles here, im seeing that you are someone who has put in a lot of hard work to be where you are right now. at some point in your life you might have felt like nothing is going your way and that all your efforts are going to vain, but here's the thing - you don't lose your ground. you still put in your 100% and because of your dedication and your strong mindset, you have reached the point in life where you are satisfied and you know your worth. you are someone who is independent and confident, and honestly babe you should be because only you know how much efforts you have put in - so be proud of yourself. you are in a state of emotional happiness and i don't see you letting anyone ruin your contentment. people find your hard work, dedication, efforts, confidence and independence very alluring. i wouldn't be surprised if people look at you as their role model. and for some reason i was getting a feeling that you might be interested in psychology because you always want to understand people on a deeper level and understand why people behave the way they do.

lastly with the 3 of wands falling out, your vision and your willingness to grow is what makes you so alluring. you are someone who is not afraid to let go of things that no longer serves you right. it's not easy, but you know that in order to seek something better, you need to move on from the negative energies. your ideas, your plans, your movements, the way you think is what makes you so alluring. you are someone who thinks about the future and you have this magnetic energy that draws people towards you. you are someone who likes to try out new things and you never settle for less. your curious nature and your thinking skills are what makes you alluring. your ability to see the good in the bad is what makes you so alluring.

٠࣪⭑꩜.ᐟ pile 2

the devil, ace of swords (reversed), hanged man, queen of swords, queen of wands

with the devil and the ace of swords popping out, the first thing i can confidently say is that you are someone who never gives up. you are someone who goes out of their way to seek the answer you are looking for and no matter the obstacles, you always overcome it. you give me the vibes of someone who has a very intense gaze and you guys might like to apply kajal/eyeliner - or maybe you have a very different style of applying it and people are drawn towards your eyes because of that. you might even have blue eyes or maybe you have very intense eyes because i see that your eyes make you look otherworldly. OMG WAIT I FINALLY FOUND THE WORD - bold and seductive. that's the energy you give off. you’re also unapologetically you and i'm seeing that some people might hate this about you but at the same time they find it so damn sexy. ugh pile 2 im literally tryna be like you because your energy is CAPTIVATING. you have this mysterious energy and you’re also someone who is very smart. im seeing that many people tend to get nervous around you and i'm also seeing that you like to keep people on their tippy toes. you like it people get worked up around you, don't you pile 2 hahaha. 

with the hanged man here, i see that regardless of having such a strong heart, you are someone who is vulnerable and you are sympathetic when you need to be. but if someone takes advantage of your soft side, oh i see you never forgiving them. you do not open up to people easily and it takes you a lot of time to trust someone, but if someone breaks that trust, you won't hesitate to remove them from your life. you are also someone who will not rest until you find your answers. you have a very driven nature and im seeing that many people wish they were you. can you even blame them babe? I WANNA BE YOU TOO PLEASE SHARE YOUR SECRETS. you also have a unique way of finding answers and people love listening to your opinions. you are someone who can remain calm when things don't go your way and this makes you so alluring. your calm and composed nature is what pulls people in. you are literally the definition of 'thinking out of the box'.

you know what is so beautiful about your reading, pile 2? the queen of swords and the queen of wands popped out together when i was shuffling the cards. do i even need to say anything at this point? like oh my god your energy is beautiful. i will never shut up about the vibes you give off, pile 2. you are someone who strives for honesty and clarity. you know when someone is lying and i'm seeing that people might even get a little intimidated by you. you are also someone who is direct and straightforward and you expect the people around you to be the same. you won't hesitate to call out people for their bullshit (sorry for cursing but i just had to say it!). i wouldn't say you’re confrontational, but you aren't scared of asking someone why they did what they did. oof, what a powerful energy. your independence and your confidence is what makes you alluring. you don't depend on others. i'm also seeing that you gain a lot of attention when you go out and that is because of the badass energy you radiate. you are also someone who is outgoing and you are not the type to settle for less. i know i said this a lot before but pile 2, please share your secrets with me. i literally wanna be you because your energy is just 🤌✨

٠࣪⭑꩜.ᐟ pile 3

4 of cups, queen of wands, 2 of wands, 2 of cups, ace of swords

my lovely pile 3, the 4 of cups and the queen of wands fell out together and the first energy i could sense here is that you have overcome a very difficult time in your life where you felt stuck and felt like nothing was moving forward for you. and you might have also blamed yourself for this. your angels are asking me to tell you that it wasn't your fault and that you shouldn't be so hard on yourself. the universe slowed down their blessings for you because it wasn't meant to find you at that point. but here's the fascinating thing, regardless of things slowing down for you, you were still hopeful. yes, you kind of felt like it was your fault but you didn't give up, and i am so so proud of you, love. there was a point in time where you isolated yourself and stopped enjoying the simplest pleasures in life. you were afraid, wondering if everything was a lesson. you guarded yourself from going out and making new connections. but then a realisation hit you, how long were you going to stay like this? how long can this go on for? that's when you realised you had to change your ways and your view towards life. it took a lot of effort and a lot of contemplation, but you finally put yourself out there. you finally let yourself free and enjoy the smallest pleasures in life. sometimes you would overdo yourself and feel exhausted because the fear of going back to your old harmful ways scared you. you need to slow down a little, babe. you need to go easy on yourself. overworking yourself is not good. yes you have come a long way and i know you’re afraid, but you need to know that going easy on yourself wont hurt, love. people have noticed your transformation and you might have attracted a lot of attention. because of your past, you might be a little distant and you might not be impressed easily. you are more guarded and alert. you tend not to get distracted easily, and people find this very alluring. i see a lot of people trying to gain your attention and win you over but with the queen of wands, you radiate confidence and self-assurance. people are attracted to your energy and your will to change. you’re brave and strong-minded, but at the same time you are kind and understanding. also, the way you laugh is very alluring. people love it when you laugh. the sound of your laughter is captivating. 

with the 2 of wands and the 2 of cups here, i see that you are someone who is not afraid to come out of your comfort zone anymore. you’re a free bird and you don't want to fall back to your old ways. now, you’re not afraid of trying out new things and your curious and experimental nature is what makes you so alluring. for some of you, im seeing that maybe in the past you might have gotten out of an unhealthy relationship where the person was not letting you move on (4 of cups) and one day, you finally realised that this is not right and you got the confidence to leave and you also evolved as a person (queen of wands) and now that you’re finally free, you’re not afraid to try out new things and you might also be making new connections - platonic as well as romantic (2 of wands and two of cups). i wouldn't be surprised if the people you know will try to shoot their shot with you because i see that many people were literally waiting for you to be single ( this energy applies for some of you who chose this pile). 

with the ace of swords coming out, i see that you like it when someone is being honest with you and you HATE people who play games. you yourself are a very honest person and when anyone asks you for advice or help, you’ll always be truthful and never hold back. i'm also seeing that you are a girl’s girl. if anyone compliments your outfit, you will literally tell them which brand you’re wearing. you don't like to gatekeep things and people love that about you. you’re also someone who is very intelligent and you have a sharp mind. you will cut through any confusion and you have a unique way of thinking. you can separate your emotions and make firm decisions. this ability of yours is what makes you so alluring.

hi loves!! i hope this reading finds you in good health and i hope you are doing well. take care of yourself and i will see you in my next reading. thank you for being here<3

(note: tarot & oracle cards provide guidance and possible insights into what could happen based on current energies, thoughts, feelings and actions. the cards can highlight potential paths or outcomes, but they do not predict the future in a fixed way. this is a general reading so take what resonates!)

જ⁀➴ all credit for the pictures & dividers goes to their rightful owners and creators.

[ilovedthestars]

I've gotten multiple responses to this post that are basically along the lines of, "I mostly agree with this, but calling close platonic relationships 'queer' still feels weird to me. That's not what 'queer' usually means and I don't know if I'd use it to describe relationships like this."

And like. I appreciate that people are listening to my point and being receptive to it, even if it feels a little Out There to them! I genuinely appreciate the folks who aren't sure they get this but are hearing me out.

But I also keep wanting to be like. Yeah, that's my point!

We don't use 'queer' to describe platonic relationships but I think we should. (Or at least, should be able to, when it fits the circumstances!) I know, and I acknowledge directly in the post, that this is not a widely accepted usage of the term. I am arguing for an expansion of the term.

I can only make guesses as to what people with this kind of reluctance are feeling, but my best guess is that they're used to "queer" (or at least "queer relationship") being used mostly in reference to gay/lesbian/same-gender love and attraction. A lot of people mostly associate the word "queer" with gay romance. And while that's a big subset of queer experiences, honestly, I think it's a shame that it's often the only type of queer experience that gets talked about.

Queer is an umbrella term for a reason! Is there any reason "queer relationships" shouldn't include, say, friendships between queer/trans people? Or romantic/sexual relationships that could be considered straight, but include one or more trans people? Or, as I make the argument above, relationships that are breaking down the normative ideas of what kinds of relationships a person is "allowed" to have, regardless of whether the people involved are themselves queer?

Maybe that last one is a leap for some people, and you think that a relationship can't be queer if the people in it don't identify with any of the LGBTQ+ labels. I understand that reservation, but honestly, I think that there's so much social pressure against non-normative relationships that people who break them should get to be considered queer / in a queer relationship if they want, and that we should get to apply queer interpretations to characters in that kind of relationship as well.

(Also, like, a lot of people in non-normative relationships are in fact queer, especially aromantic and asexual. But if we aspecs can have fun with our queer friendships and queerplatonic relationships, I don't see why anyone else shouldn't be able to!)

Anyway, all that to say that if this is pushing your definition of queer a little bit, good! That's what I was trying to do! And I hope people come away from this a little more open to the idea.

If you still aren't really convinced, that's okay. If it doesn't change what you personally use the word "queer" for, I hope you still get something else out of this post—like learning about amatonormativity and starting to see it around you, or considering friendships in media through a queer / anti-amatonormative lens of analysis when it feels relevant. (Or just being more chill about aro and ace people in fandoms who don't ship your ships. Please. We would really appreciate it.)

And I just want to say, while I'm here: Thank you for the incredible response to this post. It's just over 10k notes as I'm posting this and I'm so happy that so many people are interested in this topic & my thoughts on it (and so grateful that the response has been 99.99% positive so far). To all the aspec folks who have told me I've put something into words that you never could—thank you, I'm truly honored and I love you all 💜💚. To all the people who have told me I've opened their eyes to something new—thank you for being curious and willing to learn! And to all the people who still don't get it but are here anyway—thank you for listening to what I had to say. I'm glad you're here.

I wish it wasn’t a hot take that a story in which two characters of any gender prioritize their purely platonic relationship over any other romantic or sexual interests they might have is a textually queer story

[salemrph]

Careful, kitten

Summary: Sylus is tense, quiet, and clearly off his game and you can’t help but poke at him to figure out why.

Character: Sylus & MC/You

Genre: unresolved romantic-sexual tension, pre-relationship, teasing

Word count: 3.5k | Reading Time: 14 min | AO3

A/N: Had this for a while in the draft, I needed to see Sylus flustered somehow, without getting off character. Story is base on the moment with the Lipstick and the helmet, but not the moment itself. Picture source

You crouch down, placing a small dish of food near a group of stray cats. It has almost become a ritual to go feed the cats in the park. Sylus picks you up on his bike on those days in the morning, sometimes you still notice the tiredness and the dark circles under his eyes from not having slept enough. Or not having gone to bed at all. You have told him many times that you don't have to see each other so early, that you want him to sleep a few hours at least. But the gentleman insists that he doesn't want to keep you waiting and prefers it this way. He's just as stubborn as you sometimes are. Sylus is standing behind you, sunglasses on. It's a gorgeous day this morning, it's getting warmer. You enjoy the rays of the sun that caress your skin. 

The usual trio of cats approached, the cautious steps quickly turning into eager little trots as the scents of food reached them. You smile when you see them eating.

“Not so fast… you will choke, Marshmallow”. You are very immersed in the scene of the three cats eating with fervor.

His lips parted slightly before he closed them again, exhaling through his nose. “You’ve started naming them?”

“Of course I have”. You gestured lazily at the largest of the three. A round, fluffy white cat with a soft gray patch over one ear, currently inhaling its food like it hadn’t eaten in days. “That’s Marshmallow. He eats like he’s in a competition. Every time.” 

Then pointed to the second one, a lean, all-black cat with striking green eyes, the one who always lingered just a bit further back, observing before approaching. “That one’s Phantom. He’s a little dramatic.”

You grinned in satisfaction before finally gesturing to the last one. A scrappy little tabby with a torn ear, the smallest of the three but easily the most energetic. “And that’s Bandit. Tries to steal everyone else’s food and somehow still stays tiny.”

Then, with a smirk, he said “Mephisto will get jealous of all these new friends you're making.” 

You scoffed, nudging his arm lightly. “Oh, please. Mephisto knows he’s irreplaceable. This is just my little morning gang.”

Sylus hummed, gaze flicking to the trio of cats devouring their meal. He coursed down, eyes flickering back to you. The way you sat comfortably on the pavement, fingers gently brushing against one of the cats, hair slightly tousled from the breeze, it was an oddly soft image. More cats approved, Sylus pulls out more small food out of a bag. As soon as he popped the lid, the cats perked up, their ears twitching at the familiar sound. You watch him with an amused smile. 

“It still surprises me, for someone who acts all untouchable, you sure are soft on them.” 

Sylus huff, not looking up “They’re be a nuisance if they were starving and desperate.” 

“Uh-huh” You don't say anything else. Marshmallow gets closer to him. Sylus just scratched him behind the ear, the cat leaned into this touch, purring loud enough. A small chuckle escaped you. 

“Your hands are really beautiful, you know.”

Sylus froze. His fingers stopped mid-motion, his eyes moved to you. You weren't even looking at him, when you said that. You were still watching the cats, head tilted slightly, your expression thoughtful “Long fingers, clean nails, nice veins… a bit rough. I bet people would pay just to see them in those hand model ads.” 

Sylus blinked. He flexed his fingers instinctively, as if trying to understand what you were seeing. They were just hands, functional, efficients, and dangerous. These hands had killed many times. Ended lives without hesitation or remorse. The blood that had once coated them wasn't something that could ever truly be washed away. And yet, here you are, calling them beautiful. 

He scoffed, still trying to follow you. “Don’t say weird things first thing in the morning.” 

You just hummed, Sylus exhaled sharply, looking away. He massages his eyes, slightly lifting his sunglasses. He wasn't a morning person. Never had been. And this one was especially hard. You’ve started to blurt out things like that latly, without a second thought, throwing him off in ways he wasn’t prepared. Normally, he’d have some sharp remark, a smirk, a teasing jab to keep the balance from tipping too far. But today? No chance. He hadn't slept much. With that bit of sleep he had gotten was plagued by a dream so vivid, so tangible, that waking up had felt like a cruel joke. You were tangled in his sheets. Fingers gripping his shoulder. Lips parting in breathless whispers saying his name… 

So vivid that when he woke up, the first thing he had done was grip the sheets in frustration, jaw tight, body thrumming with leftover heat that had nowhere to go. Even if he had taken the time to deal with his painful erection that very morning, it wasn't enough. Not after a dream like that. It was getting difficult.

Difficult to sit next to you without his mind wandering. Harder to keep his gaze from lingering on the curve of your neck, the way your lips parted slightly when you focused too hard. Harder to pretend like he wasn’t aching every time you said something dangerous without even realizing it. It wasn’t fair. Today, he was tired. His patience was worn too thin, his self-control stretched to its absolute limit.

“You okay? You look kind of out of it” 

“Didn’t sleep much” 

“Nightmares?” you frowned slightly.

Sylus snorted, shaking his head. “Not exactly” Far from it. If it had been nightmares, that would have been easier. This was needed. It was hunger, deep and aching, wrapped around him like a slow-burning fire that refused to go out.

“You sure? You seem…”

“I’m fine.” He cut in too quickly, voice rougher than intended.

Your lips pressed into a thin line. Clearly, you aren't buying it. But you didn’t push but you didn't drop it entirely either. Instead, you turned back to the cats, scratching Phantom under the chin as the sleek black cat purred in contentment. 

His mind was still stuck on your voice, breathy and needy from his dream, whispering his name in ways you never had in reality.

“Well, whatever kept you up, it must’ve been pretty intense.” His brain was still rebooting when you smirked lightly. “Was it a mission thing? Or something else?”

You rested your chin on your hand, watching him like you were solving a puzzle. “Wait… don’t tell me you got into a fight with Mephisto again.” Sylus blinked. You nodded to yourself, looking way too serious now. “It makes sense. The broody look, the weird tension, the fact that you’re avoiding eye contact. Did you two have a jealousy spat over the cats?”

“You think this is about the cats? What's wrong with your head?” Sylus shakes his head then he runs a hand down his face, his fingers pressing against his temples. He needed this conversation to end. Immediately. “We are leaving. I need a coffee.” 

Still sitting on the pavement, you just stared at him, blinking in confusion. "Okay…? You could’ve just said that instead of having a mini crisis."

Sylus didn’t respond. He was already walking away, jaw tight, hands shoved into his pockets. 

You frowned slightly before glancing down at the cats. "What’s his deal?" Phantom, as if in solidarity, flicked his tail and turned his head away with an exaggerated huff. You chuckled, shaking her head. “Yeah, I don’t get him either.”

Today, he’s weirdly quiet.

He keeps rubbing his fingers over his temple like he’s trying to will away whatever is bothering him. He runs a hand through his hair too often, exhales too heavily. You tilt your head, watching him, amusement bubbling in your chest. Oh. Oh, this could be fun. Maybe if you push him a little, just a little, you’ll figure out what’s wrong. What could possibly go wrong?

The engine growls beneath you as Sylus kicks the bike into motion, but you can feel the hesitation in his movements, the slight rigidity that wasn’t there before. Sylus inhales sharply, fingers gripping the handlebars tighter.

"Hold on" he mutters, voice tight. You grin. You press yourself closer than usual on the back of his motorcycle, arms wrapped snugly around his waist. Normally, you keep a respectable grip, not too loose, not too tight. But, you let your fingers drift just a bit lower, brushing the firm muscle at his waist. You don’t miss the way his entire body tenses beneath you. Oh… Interesting. You’re sure he curses under his breath. 

By the time he pulls up to your destination, you can tell he’s barely holding himself together. The moment the bike comes to a stop, he mutters a firm “Get off.”

You blink innocently. Sylus twists around to look at you, and he’s struggling. His red eyes are dark, sharp, his jaw tight like he’s fighting something. And it’s glorious.

“Off. Now.”

You huff playfully, but slide off the bike, stretching as if nothing happened. Sylus stays seated for a moment longer, like he needs to breathe. This is too good.

At first, you thought maybe he was just tired, maybe a little irritated about something mission-related. But now? Now, you’re starting to suspect it’s something else entirely.

Because every little touch, every offhand comment, every time you press even slightly into his space, he reacts. Not in a big way, no, he’s too good at keeping himself composed for that. But you see it. The flicker in his eyes. It’s like he’s… sensitive. And then it hits you. 

Oh. Ohhh. Maybe he just… 

…hasn’t gotten fucked in a while. Sylus is an attractive man who could have anyone relieve his stress. You've read in some articles that men with so much power often forget to relax. You almost laugh at the thought. Is that what’s wrong with him? Is that why he’s all tense and restless? Well. You’re not cruel. But you are curious. Which is why you decide to push. You wait until you're sitting across from him at a café, sipping on coffee, watching him struggle to act normal. His usual confidence is still there, but it’s fragile, like it could crack at any second.

You smirk. "You know, Sylus…" you start, propping your chin in your hand, voice slow and thoughtful.

He lifts a brow, already looking suspicious. "What?"

Your smirk widens. "I read something interesting earlier."

Sylus exhales, dragging his fingers over the rim of his cup, gaze flicking to you warily. "Should I be worried?"

You shrug, swirling your drink absentmindedly. "Apparently, if someone goes too long without… a release…." you pause just long enough to see his fingers tighten slightly "...their body starts getting all restless. Irritable. Sensitive."

His eyebrow twitches. Sylus lifts his cup to his lips. You continue, your voice taking on a casual, almost curious lilt. “Have you… released yourself lately?”

And then he chokes on his coffee. You blink, watching in fascination as he coughs into his fist, setting the cup down too aggressively. He tilts his head slightly down, running a hand over his mouth, exhaling sharply like he’s trying to stay alive.

You purse your lips. "Wow. That was dramatic."

Sylus glares at you, voice rougher than usual. "What kind of question is that?"

You lift your shoulders in an innocent shrug. “It just made me think. Maybe that’s why you’ve been all weird today. Maybe you just need to, you know…” You gesture vaguely with your fingers. “Take care of…”

Before you can finish, Sylus snatches the small bun from your plate and shoves it into your mouth, effectively silencing you. Your eyes widen in pure betrayal as you glare up at him, muffled by the mouthful of bread.

"Kitten…" he sighs, rubbing the bridge of his nose like he’s suffering some great burden. "You know very well that I adore you, but do me a favor and keep those ideas to yourself."

You chew slowly, staring at him, piecing things together. His grip on his cup, his stiff posture, the way his gaze seem desperately focused on anywhere but you. He’s embarrassed. Flustered.

You swallow the bite of bread, smirking as you tilt your head. "You’re blushing." You lean in, resting your chin in your hand. "You’re really telling me you’ve never gotten like that?"

Sylus exhales sharply, shifting in his seat. "Sweetie…" he said, warning.

"Come on," you press, voice dipping just a little, teasing. "You’re all moody, tense, acting like you haven’t had a moment to yourself in forever."

Sylus suddenly leans forward, his face mere inches from yours. You freeze. The café noise around you fades as his eyes flicker with something you hadn't seen.

"Kitten," he murmurs, low and smooth, "do you really want to know the answer to that question?"

You blink. Your heart does an unexpected little flip. …Wait. Did you just? Did you accidentally walk into his trap? Your throat bobs. Sylus’ smirk curls back into natural place. He sees it, sees the moment the teasing turns back on you. And that’s when he leans back, taking a slow sip of his coffee like nothing happened.

"Eat up."

You stay silent, but your mind is racing. He thinks he won. He thinks he got the last word. But no, oh no, you’re not letting this go. You know you’re right. You just need to make him admit it. Still, you force yourself to drop the subject for now, watching as he takes another casual sip of his coffee, like he didn’t just send your thoughts spiraling with that stupid smirk.

You spend the rest of the day together, running errands, taking the long way back through the city. Sylus, despite his usual sharp awareness, seems tired. It’s the kind of exhaustion he hates showing, but even he can’t hide it completely.

By the time you both make it back to your place, the sun has dipped lower in the sky, casting long golden streaks across the floor. You unlock the door, stepping inside as Sylus leans against the frame, rubbing again his tired eyes. 

You glance over at him. "You should take a nap."

“I'm fine, I can go home.”

You gesture toward the couch. "Nap here. You can leave after." Sylus stares at you for a moment. Then, in a move that genuinely surprises you, he actually sighs in defeat. He shrugs off his coat, tossing it over the armrest before sinking onto the couch. You make space, removing some plushies and pulling out a blanket. You move away to get some water when a strong hand suddenly grabs your wrist. 

Your voice hitches. "Sy-!?" pulling you down onto the couch, straight into him. Your back hits solid warmth, his body firm beneath yours, and for a brief moment, you forget how to breathe. His head drops forward, resting against your back. A slow, steady breath fans against your shoulder. Your carefully crafted schemes? Gone. Vanished. Replaced by the very real, very warm reality of Sylus beneath you, his breath slow and steady, his body solid and impossibly close.

"C-Can you sleep like this?"

Sylus doesn’t answer. Instead, he just lets out a low growl, shifting slightly as if trying to get comfortable. You swear you feel the vibration of it through your whole body. You shift slightly, trying to regain some sense of control. "Sylus?"

Again, no verbal response. Just another slow breath, another barely-there rumble of a sound. His arms tighten just a little more around your waist. You swear he’s doing this on purpose. You stay completely still, your mind racing, desperately trying to figure out your next move. But then Sylus nuzzles slightly against your back, and every single thought leaves your brain. Oh, this bastard.

You huff, twisting slightly to get a look at his face. "Hey, are you actually asleep or just pretending so you can mess with me?"

Nothing. Just the slow rise and fall of his chest, the completely at ease expression on his face, his lips slightly parted, his head still resting against your shoulder blade.

…Okay. Maybe he actually is asleep. That was quick. He must be really at the end of his strength. You bite your lip, debating your options. You could move, try to wiggle out of his grasp, but that would mean more contact, and you’re not sure if you can break free that easily. Or you could be evil. Your lips curl slightly.

You shift again, this time, intentionally. A slow, careful movement, rolling your hips just slightly in his lap, like you’re innocently adjusting your position. The reaction is instantaneous. Sylus lets out a low, sharp inhale, his grip tightening just a fraction before his entire body freezes. For a moment, there’s silence.

So, you do it again. Another small roll of your hips, your weight pressing slightly into his lap. Still nothing. You try it a few more times and then you feel it. Something hard presses against your butt, unmistakable even through layers of fabric. Your breath catches. Your entire body locks up in realization, the warmth rushing up your spine now burning at your face. Oh. Oh, shit.

You freeze completely, pulse hammering, suddenly hyper-aware of everything. The firm press of Sylus' thighs beneath you, the heat of him against your back, the fact that you started something you weren’t sure would lead. You just wanted to tease him and now he is hard under you. 

“Kitten...” Your heartbeat slams against your ribs. His voice is lower than you’ve ever heard it. “Stay still.”

You bite your lip, waiting, expecting him to react, to throw some cocky remark your way but he doesn’t. Instead, he stays completely still like he’s fighting something, like he’s trying to force this moment back under control. You’re not going to let him. Slowly you shift your hips again. Sylus exhales sharply through his nose, his fingers twitching where they rest against your waist.

You smirk, tilting your head slightly. "Are you going to tell me why you’re so tense?" You push further. "I mean, you’ve been acting weird all day." You let your voice dip just slightly, playing into the innocence of it. "Wouldn’t have anything to do with what we talked about this morning, would it?"

Sylus finally speaks with a dangerous rasp against your ear.

You want to burn this into your memory. Your heart is thudding, loud in your ears. You swallow, barely trusting your voice as you whisper.

"You should stop."

A shiver actually runs down your spine because of that tone. That is not his usual teasing. Slowly, cautiously, you turn your head to look at him, really look at him. And that’s when you see it. Sylus’ face is flushed. His jaw is tight, his lips slightly parted like he’s struggling to breathe evenly. His hair is slightly messy, strands fallen across his flushed forehead.

His eyes flick to your lips… then lower, linger on your thighs, before dragging back up to meet yours. That paralyzes you because Sylus never looks like this. Your mouth goes dry. You’ve seen Sylus in many states: bored, smug, amused, deadly. But this? This is something else entirely. You’ve imagined it, sure. On lonely nights, in quiet fantasies, in those dangerous thoughts you don’t usually entertain for long. And it’s such an erotic image that the idea of getting off his lap now feels like a death sentence. Like stepping away from something you might never get the chance to see again.

“…Why?”

His eyes darken instantly. He doesn’t answer right away. Instead, his hand comes to rest on your thigh. Is light but the heat of it burns through the fabric.

“Because if you keep going…” he murmurs, but stops himself. A mocking smile appears on his lips again. “Why do you want to know so badly?” His thumb brushes the inside of your thigh, maddeningly light. “Is it curiosity?” he continues. “Is it the power? Or…” his eyes flicker to your lips again, “do you just like imagining it?”

Your heart stutters. He leans in, just enough that you feel the heat of his breath ghost over your cheek, his voice a whisper meant for no one but you.

“Be honest, kitten. Is it me you’re thinking about… when you’re restless?”

Your pulse trips.

“You ask that like you want it to be you.” You tilt your head, eyes dancing with mock thoughtfulness. “I mean, it could be. But there are so many options. It’d be unfair to name just one. Why so curious?” you murmur. “Feeling a little... worked up yourself?” You move a bit more on his lap. He is still hard, you bit your lip. 

“If I said yes,” he murmurs, voice low and velvety, “would that change anything?”

Your lips twitch with a teasing smile. “Maybe,” you say, leaning in just enough to make it sting. “Or maybe I’d just watch.”

“Careful, kitten. If you watch too long… you might beg to join.”

[stellarsturniolos]

━━ ⟢ ‘good in bed’ ╰ C.S.

・ ˖  ✦ ⋄ . in which.. you and chris drive each other mad. but that's what makes you good in bed.

warnings: smut, unprotected sex, riding, light dirty talk, i think that covers it !

A/N: reblogs and likes are appreciated! i do NOT give consent for my work to be copied or uploaded to any other platform. thank you. for @bernardsbendystraws music writing challenge. divider by rose also !

got me thinkin' it'd be better if we didn't stay together. then you put your hands up on my waist. the apartment is silent, a raging mix of anxiety and tension filling the minimal space as you sit on the couch and wait for chris to come over.

you haven't seen him or heard from him in almost a week. you're used to your boyfriend, if you can even call him that anymore, being busy. filming with his brothers, preparing for their tour, working on his brand.

but you've never gone this long without at least hearing his voice. and you don't like it.

you know you need to talk to him. you need for him to understand that he's messing with your head. you need him to know that he's hurting you.

you know exactly what you're going to say to him. you've practiced, time and time again, in the mirror. you've got it all scripted and memorized, every syllable has been perfected.

you perk up when you suddenly hear a key turning in the lock and the harsh thunk of the latch, and then your apartment door swings open. and there he is. as frustratingly handsome as ever.

you stand up and walk over to greet him. you open your mouth to speak, but you don't get the chance.

because chris plants his hands on your hips and gently tugs your body closer to his. he captures your lips and it's immediately hungry. frantic. you gasp as his tongue explores your mouth. he licks at your teeth, the roof of your mouth — like he's trying to devour every inch of you that he can.

his mouth travels down to your neck and his lips linger on your skin, warm and inviting, sucking gently behind your ear and making your knees go weak.

"chris," you want to pull away but you're entranced. you can't do it. "we need to talk."

he lets out a dramatic huff against your neck. "later. s'been so long since i've had you, baby. just wanna make my girl feel good. please?"

and you've never been able to tell him no.

we drive each other mad, it might be kinda sad, but i think that's what makes us good in bed.

his hands roam all over your body, and as much as you don't want to want this, you do. you crave his touch the way an addict craves their next fix.

you swallow hard, trying to push past the lump in your throat, and your hands unconsciously slide up his chest and loop around his neck.

a quiet hum rumbles deep in his chest and he grabs your hips even tighter. his voice is rough when he speaks again. "c'mon. bedroom, now." you pause for a moment, trying to remember everything you wanted to say to him. but your mind is blank. all you can think about is how much you need his touch.

so you push aside your hesitation, ignore the angel on your right shoulder and listen to the devil on your left. you let him lead you into the bedroom.

he pulls his shirt over his head and tosses it aside before reaching for the hem of yours. "want y'to ride me, baby. that okay?"

you nod dumbly. he takes your shirt off and his mouth immediately latches onto one of your nipples. for an ass guy, he always loved to tease your tits.

you slip out of your pajama shorts and peel your damp panties off before shoving him down onto the bed. you pull down his jeans and underwear in one go and then climb onto his lap. you grip his cock with one hand and rub the tip over your puffy folds. he hisses and you whimper as his dick brushes against your clit.

you don't want to waste anymore time. you settle on his lap, lowering yourself slowly as his cock slides between your folds and sinks into your heat. you whimper as he stretches you. he was right, it's been so long since he's had you. too long.

your gummy walls squeeze around his cock as you slowly rock back and forth, carefully grinding against him.

"fuuuuck," his voice is gruff, his hands move down to squeeze your ass as you ride him. "so fuckin' good, baby. so tight. so wet f'me."

an airy whine slips from your lips as you bounce, picking up the pace, sinking back down to the hilt before repeating the motion again and again.

one of his hands slides up your body to play with your hardened nipple. pinching and massaging your breast as his eyes darken further. "shit, baby. jus' look at you."

sweat glistens on your skin as you continue to fuck yourself on his cock. "you're s'big, chris. fuckin' me so good."

you bounce up and down wildly. your pussy clenches around his cock. you feel so full.

"m'gonna cum soon," he says, his voice strained. "gonna fill you up so fuckin' good, baby."

"please.." you're panting as you look down at him, locking eyes. "fill me up. i need it."

you cry out as chris thrusts upward and tugs you down at the same time, fucking into your harshly. you can feel his cock pulsating as he spills inside of you, filling you to the brim. you whimper as his release triggers your own. your inner walls spasm as he continues to pump his hips and thrust into you.

you tremble and shudder, collapsing against his chest. his fingers trail up and down your sweaty back as you both try to catch your breaths.

he drives you mad. but at least he's good in bed.

we don't know how to talk, but damn, we know how to fuck.

[interruptedtrance]

Beach sex (franco x reader x oscar)

Smut; 18+

word count: 1.1k

Contains: franco and reader being in an established relationship, nicknames (amor), bj (oscar receiving), female anatomy, dom oscar, dom franco, mostly free use, swallowing

masterlist

“I wanna learn spanish just to understand your interviews cause apparently you’re really funny” oscars stated making franco awkwardly laugh and blush a bit.

after the interview franco made sure to catch oscar while he is alone, “you know, you could join my partner and i later on the beach, just so you can see how fun i can be”, making the australians eyes widen in return.

“sure” he tried playing it off nonchalantly even though on the inside his nerves were killing him.

“i’ll see you later oscar” franco spoke while slowly turning away and making his way back to the alpine garage where his partner is waiting for him.

oscars thoughts running wild, what if he makes a fool of himself, what if he says something wrong and makes franco hate him, he takes a deep breath, and mumbles to himself “i’ve said i’ll be there, so i have to show up”. feeling a bit calmer he continues to his next duties.

“hey amor” franco quickly strides over to you, wrapping his arms around your waist, making you automatically wrap around his neck.

“what, why are you grinning like that?” you smile back at him.

he leans in closer to you, your foreheads meeting, “oscar will join us late” he admits. making your smile widen, moving your head away from him, “i swear, i’ve asked him and he said he will be there”

kissing his lips, you mumble a thanks to him, “i didn’t expect him to agree, like ever”

“i used some of my argentinian charm”

“franco colapinto, you are a flirt”

“Aaaah, i’m not”

time skip

“do you think he will show up?” you question franco after glancing at your phone seeing he is running late.

“it’s not like him to no-show” franco comforts you, by running his hand across your arm.

“i mean, we can start without him, and he can join in when he comes” franco softly whispers, gently nipping your earlobe, making you shudder in return.

turning your head to him, you tenderly connect your lips, franco now grabbing your hips and lifting you on to his lap like you weigh nothing. you hear someone clearing your throat behind you, already thinking you were caught, you sheepishly turn around to face the person.

meeting oscars gaze, “i see you have already started without me”, he laughs.

a whimper making its way past your lips, “you made me think we got caught” franco squeezed your ass, making your attention return to him, “what?”

“come oscar sit down with us” franco invites, you make your way off his lap to sit in the middle. without any hesitation oscar sits down next to you, you delicately trace your hand up to his tight. carefully making your way on your hands and knees so you are eye level with the australian.

softly you move your hand further up his thigh, now your palm is resting over his clothed cock, where with each second you feel him getting harder and harder. “can i?” you hint, making oscar nod in return, lightly you shift your weight back to both of your arms and lower yourself from your palms to your elbows so you can, delicately unzip his pants, and take his cock out.

oscars eyes watching what your hands are doing, like he is in a trance. softly you bring your lips to his tip, and give it a quick peck pulling away all at once, you whine to franco, “can you please join?” you say pouting a bit.

making franco move from his spot, where he had front row tickets to his amor sucking off another man. “oscar you can be a bit rougher with me, here hold my hair” you said, bringing his hand to your hair so he can hold it in a makeshift ponytail. gently you move your lips back to his cock, once you feel franco behind you.

while you are trying to be good for oscar, and keep your rhythm, francos teasing it getting to you. carefully you pull your lips off, making oscar groan in the process, and you moan from the pleasure franco is giving you by teasing your clit through the fabric of your shorts.

“franco please” you whimper, reaching your limit, without hesitation he pulls down your clothing, and teasingly runs his cock through your wet folds.

you feel oscars grip tighten on your hair, pulling your head back to his cock, “did i tell you to stop?”, without answering you wrap your lips back around his member, taking his full length into your mouth. with a swift pace you bob your head up and down his shaft, making sure you pay close attention to the slit at the back of his head, gently caressing it with your tongue.

while you are focused on pleasuring oscar you almost completely forgot about franco behind you, who was prepping you to take all of him. suddenly you feel your boyfriend bottoming out in you, making you moan around the australian, your eyes watering a bit.

the pleasure hitting you all at once, oscar pulling your hair, making your head bob up and down, franco thrusting at an ungodly pace and circling your clit. with both of the men using you however they like, you reach your high quickly, you squeeze oscars thighs letting him know you are close.

“awww, are you close, i don’t know if you can cum, why don’t we ask franco”

“you can cum, when we finish” francos words making you whine around oscars member, “you should be happy i’m close amor”

“fuck-, so am i” oscar groans out, now laying down, he is holding your head in place and thrusting up in your mouth. oscar groans, before releasing his cum in your mouth. you open it to show him that you have swallowed all of his cum.

“cum with me amor” with those words you feel franco release in you, making your release wash over you, the waves of pleasure running through your body making you moan out. carefully, once your orgasm has washed over you, franco pulls out, swiftly, pulling your shorts back over you.

you lay your head in oscars lap for a moment while you catch your breath, franco now softly running his hand across your thighs, the two guys talking amongst each other.

“oscar you did pick a beautiful spot on one of the australian beaches, but my amor is way prettier"

“shut up franco” you whine in protest.

“what it's true” he argues back.

“you know, i have to agree with franco” oscars statement makes your cheeks heat up.

you speak while standing up, and looking between the two men “can we please go back to the hotel so i can rinse off the sand that has gotten everywhere? i mean both of you are invited to join me”

[greenwitchfromthewoods]

a beautiful little lie. [chapter 2] l Harry Castillo

Summary:  you are the personal assistant of Harry Castillo, a wealthy entrepreneur who asks you to go with him to his friend's wedding. there you meet your ex-boyfriend and things get out of hand

Warnings: fluff, a little bit of angst, friends to lovers (maybe?), some wine, almost kiss, mentioning ex-boyfriend, Reader feels insecure

A/N: I'm giving you this chapter. Be gentle with me, please. I don't have much to say, except that I'd like to thank every single person who left a sign under the first chapter. I was afraid to write this, but with you it's somehow easier. Thank you,

your feedback is very important to me and I want to thank you for all the reblogs, comments and likes. I secretly hope you like this story.🖤 sorry for all the mistakes

[my masterlist] [Harry Castillo masterlist] [a beautiful little lie- series masterlist]

"Harry asked about you." Susan leaned out from behind the monitor and looked at you over her glasses. "You're fifteen minutes late."

"I know!" you groaned, throwing your bag on the desk. "The whole street was jammed. I was texting him."

"I know, he told me. But he asked anyway." she smiled, reaching for the cup of coffee you brought her. "Thank you, honey. You know, that guy would die without you. Me too."

“He'll be fine. He's Harry Castillo, he'll always be fine.” You replied, trying to calm your breathing and smoothing your skirt with your hand. “How do I look?”

“Like you ran three blocks to get here.”

“I did!” you laughed, glancing toward the glass doors leading to Harry’s office. “Okay, wish us luck.”

You entered Mr. Castillo's large office and immediately noticed him talking on the phone, leaning against one of the windows. He nodded to you in greeting without interrupting the conversation, then pointed to the folder lying on his desk. You quickly put it in your bag.

“I could send a car for you,” he said, pocketing his phone, frowning. “Did you run here?”

“A lot of people run in the morning. Are we ready? Mr. McCullen should be in his office in an hour.”

Harry took his jacket off the chair and put it on. You quickly walked over to him and straightened his tie. "I'm ready now."

The offer had landed on Castillo's desk out of the blue, but it was so good it piqued his interest. Mr. McCullen's company was about to be sold, and Harry was considering buying it. You didn't have much time to prepare, since your sources told you there were a lot of companies interested. 

However, everything was going to go your way that day. You had arrived at the company building early, so you quickly mumbled, "I have to go to the bathroom," and disappeared down one of the hallways leading from the conference room.

You were already washing your hands when you heard a quiet sob in one of the toilets. You anxiously wiped your hands on a paper towel and cleared your throat. "Excuse me? Is everything okay?"

The sobbing came from the last stall, where you noticed a pair of shapely legs in red heels. "Ummm... Do you need anything? A tampon or a tissue?"

The stall door opened and a young girl with swollen eyes stepped out. She sniffled and blew her nose into the toilet paper she was holding. “You can’t help me…” she said in a hoarse voice. “Until you find me a new job.”

"Oh! You know... You shouldn't worry so much about work, it's just..." you started, but the girl rolled her eyes. You clearly didn't understand her at all.

“I should care, because I’m about to lose my job!” she groaned. “I’m only working for this company until the boss closes this stupid deal, and then he’s moving to Los Angeles. That idiot got himself into so much debt…” she shook her head. A cold chill ran down your arms.

"What are you talking about?" you asked. "Not Mr. McCullen, right?"

She leaned against the counter and wiped her red nose, then crossed her arms over her chest. “His company is a bottomless pit. He’s desperate to sell it, and the guy buying it is a fucking idiot. He doesn’t even know what he’s signing up for.”

It was your second run of the day, your footsteps echoing through the empty hallway as you made your way to the conference room, but then your heart stopped. Harry was already sitting inside with two other men.

Everyone was chatting happily, or so it seemed to you, because the men were sitting with their backs to you, and all you could see was your boss's face.

"You can't go in there now." the female voice rang out as you grabbed the door handle.

“I’m Mr. Castillo’s assistant,” you said firmly, but the woman sitting behind the desk just tilted her head, unimpressed, looking you up and down appraisingly.

"I don't care. I said you can't go in there."

You huffed angrily and reached into your bag. You clenched your hand around your phone and a moment later you were dialing Harry's number. He must have felt the vibration of his phone in his pocket because he looked up and saw you behind the glass wall. He shook his head slightly.

“Shit!” you hissed. You had to think of something. You pulled out your folder and grabbed the first sheet of paper, then pulled out a pen.

Harry's brown eyes widened when he saw the piece of paper in your hands that said "BULLSHIT! DEBTS!"

one year earlier

You glanced around the hallway and took a deep breath, clutching your briefcase like it was a lifeline. The pretty brunette sitting across from you smiled, but you were so nervous you could barely lift the corners of your mouth.

How were you supposed to compete with them? Each of the five women waiting with you outside the glass doors to Mr. Castillo's office was simply beautiful and certainly had excellent references. And you? Your inner critic certainly had her hands full.

An hour passed, a very long hour. You were alone now, and the woman sitting behind the monitor glanced at you from time to time.

"He won't eat you alive, sweetie." she finally said.

"Huh?" you looked up, looking at her with fear. "You think so?"

"I've been working for him for a few years now. Just be yourself, girl."

You looked down at your nervously twisted fingers. It wasn't good advice.

Finally the girl came out of the office and you were invited in. The office was spacious and brightly lit by the rays of the setting sun. Behind the solid desk you saw a man, he was already over forty years old, broad shoulders, a prominent nose and a charming smile. He looked up from the paper and you saw beautiful brown eyes.

Your name flowed from his lips. "Please take a seat, it won't take long."

You sat on the edge of the chair feeling like your soul had already left your body. Mr. Castillo was looking at what must have been your job application.

"You don't have much experience." he said, there was no disapproval in it, more curiosity. "Why did you decide to apply?"

You barely recognized your voice when you spoke. "Can I be honest?"

Mr. Castillo made a gesture with his hand as if he was encouraging you to do so.

"I need a job. I know I don't have much experience as an assistant, not as much as previous candidates, I'm sure, but it's either that or going back to customer service."

"Mhm." he mumbled, rubbing his chin with his finger.

“Mr. Castillo.” Brown eyes focused on you again. “You’re looking for an assistant. I spent over an hour outside your office and saw other candidates. They’re beautiful women with references, and I understand that I can’t compete with them, but… I’m hardworking, loyal, and a quick learner. If you give me a chance, I assure you that I’ll do everything in my power to make sure you’re not disappointed.”

“I like your energy,” Castillo murmured, leaning back in his leather chair.

“Yeah? It’s more like desperation.”

He chuckled, and you finally smiled back. You stared at each other for a few seconds until Castillo finally closed the folder in front of him and reached for his phone, signaling that the conversation was over.

"Thank you for giving me your time." he said politely. "We'll call you back."

You nodded, mumbling a quiet, “Thank you and goodbye,” before quickly leaving the office, your legs feeling like jelly. The walk to the elevator wasn’t memorable, nor was the entire ride down.

You knew you had fucked up this interview. Tears welled up in your eyes, but you wanted to wait until you were outside the building to cry. As you stood on the sidewalk, you took a deep breath and a sob tore itself from your throat. You felt pathetic, small, and weak. What were you even thinking, coming here, standing in front of this office? Fuck. You idiot.

The phone in your pocket vibrated and you rolled your eyes reaching for it, you couldn't even cry in peace anymore.

"Yes?" you said, not caring how you sounded.

“Hello, this is Harry Castillo. We spoke a few minutes ago.” A pleasant male voice spoke on the other end, and you felt your heart skip a beat. “Would you be interested in starting work on Monday?”

“Mrs. Diane Kruger-Waltz will be here next week. She would like to meet with you.”

Harry handed you a glass of wine and sat down on the couch next to you with a quiet sigh. “Okay, let me know when she’s available. We’ll work it out.”

You took a sip and set the glass down on the small coffee table, then quickly typed something on your computer. It was a pleasant, albeit rainy evening. After returning from Mr. McCullen's, Harry met with his accountants, who confirmed the information you had received in the ladies' room. 

You both breathed a sigh of relief, this deal would cost the company millions and you didn't even want to think about what the consequences would be.

To celebrate this small success, if you could call it that, Castillo made a call to one of the best restaurants and ordered a takeaway. They didn't do that, but they made an exception for their regular customer. And then both of you, avoiding the slowly intensifying rain, hid on the couch in his spacious living room.

"Done." You announced, closing your laptop and putting it aside. "You should get your suit from the cleaners tomorrow morning. The sponsors' party starts at six in the afternoon, so you should be able to make it."

"I'll pick you up twenty minutes early, okay?"

"Yeah, I'll be ready."

You sighed quietly and rubbed your forehead with your hand. It had been a long and hectic day. No wonder Harry had changed into sweatpants in search of comfort in his own apartment. Your clothes suddenly seemed extremely uncomfortable to you.

"What's going on?" he asked, feeling and seeing you shift nervously.

"Nothing. It's just... I'm tired, you know, every seam in my clothes irritates me." You mumbled.

"I already told you to keep something more comfortable at my place." you rolled your eyes and Harry chuckled "What's that supposed to mean?"

"I'm not keeping my clothes in the boss's apartment." you replied, taking a sip of cold wine "That's unprofessional."

"Now this," he pointed at himself and you sitting on his couch, "that's professional, right?"

"Oh, never mind." you snorted but couldn't hide your smile and after a moment Harry also chuckled.

He liked spending time with you. There was something about it that made him feel free, like he could take off his tie and just be himself. Yes, he was a mature man, he knew his worth, but with you, a lot of things just seemed easier. Like he didn't have to pretend to follow rules and regulations. He didn't have that with other employees, only with you.

"Can I ask you something?"

"You already did." you replied, and seeing his face you lightly nudged him in the shoulder "Sure, ask."

"What was between you and Daniel? Of course, if you don't want to, you don't have to answer, but I was wondering... You seemed really upset after you met him."

You were silent for a moment and Harry thought that he might have crossed some line. Maybe the question was too intimate, too personal. But finally he heard your voice.

"We met through mutual friends. He started as a lawyer, quickly climbing the career ladder. I did my own thing, you know, but I wasn't as flashy as he was. We were together for two years, I think..." you closed your eyes, wrinkling your nose slightly as if you wanted to remember something, Harry was silent, watching you

"I was really in love. I supported him in everything he did, I practiced what he was supposed to say with him, ironed his shirts and stuff like that. I totally gave myself to him... At one of the parties he met Beth. I wasn't there because I had to be at work, the boss wouldn't let me off. Beth is different from me, better than me, you saw it yourself."

You smiled, looking at Harry, but the corners of his mouth barely twitched. He was staring at you attentively, listening carefully to every word. You lowered your gaze. 

"Daniel started dating her. He didn't even tell Beth he was in a relationship... I found out by accident. It was like a slap in the face. We started arguing and he blamed everything on me... I believed him. I believed every word he said. I was in a bad place at the time." 

You fell silent again for a moment, those memories must still be hurting you. A little hesitantly, but Harry reached out and squeezed your forearm in a supportive gesture. You smiled slightly.

"Huh! We broke up, of course. Daniel got together with Beth, officially. She was and still is a beautiful woman by his side, now carrying their child. It took me longer to get myself together and now I'm here. I'm drinking wine with my boss and telling him the pathetic story of my relationship."

You wanted to laugh, but just like that time at the wedding, the laughter died in your throat. Harry leaned slightly towards you, his voice calm and soothing.

"Daniel told you that you were a lot to handle?"

You nodded and quickly put your hand to your cheek, trying to wipe away a tear unnoticed.

"I'm sorry." Harry said quickly, placing a hand on your shoulder and caressing you "I didn't mean to..."

"No, it's okay!" you replied quickly, although your voice trembled "I'm telling it for the first time in so long, huh, I thought I was over it. But it hurt a little when I saw him, with her, so happy."

"Yeah, I understand that."

You finally looked at him, smiling even though your eyes were slightly red from the tears that had gathered in them. Your hand found his, squeezing it lightly.

"It's okay, really. Don't worry. I'm even glad you asked. I haven't talked about it with anyone. It's good to get it off my chest."

"I still feel guilty." Harry mumbled.

"Unnecessarily, really." You drank the wine to the end and put the glass on the table. "It's a bit embarrassing, sorry."

"You don't have to apologize for anything. To be fair, Daniel should apologize to you. He shouldn't have done that, he should have been honest with you from the beginning."

You waved your hand dismissively. "It doesn't matter anymore, Harry. I'm in a different place now. I have a cool job, my boss is okay too. I manage somehow."

You both laughed quietly until silence reigned again. And then Harry decided to say what had been on his mind for some time. Maybe it wasn't the right time, but when would there ever be one? He was still holding your hand, you were sitting so close, and he felt like he had to get it out.

"You're not a lot to handle." You looked up at him, surprised. "To tell you the truth, I think it was my lucky day when you showed up in my office for the first time. Remember?"

"This is embarrassing too, Harry. Let's not go back to this." You said, the corners of your mouth twitching even though your eyes were still scared. You waited to hear what he was getting at and you felt fear welling up inside you.

"It wasn't your fault. And you're not a lot to handle. Don't even believe it. You're worth so much more..."

You stared at him as if enchanted. Harry had such wonderful eyes, you noticed it from the first day, and since then you reminded yourself of it every now and then. And in that moment you saw almost everything in them - care, sincerity, sympathy.

"Don't say that, or I'll fall in love with you." You joked, but he didn't laugh.

"Would that be so bad?"

Something tightened your throat when you saw him leaning closer to you. He was too close, your lips inches apart, his scent filling your nostrils. "I have to go." You blurted out quickly and jumped up, freeing your hand from his.

"I..." Harry began uncertainly, but you had already grabbed your laptop and quickly shoved it into your bag "Listen, I didn't want to..."

"It's totally okay!" you said a little too quickly and too nervously, throwing your bag over your shoulder and slipping your shoes on "I really have to go now."

Harry wanted to say something else, but his head was completely empty. So he just watched as you gathered your things, threw a quick "See you!" and headed for the exit, closing the door quietly behind you.

Harry fell onto the sofa and rubbed his face with his hands, letting out a quiet groan.

☆☆☆☆

Thank you for your time.

taglist: @nrschuster30 @maried01 @lunariantears @thatesqcrush @suzysface @youkeeno @legoemma @nuo0n @sarahhxx03 @hazzzy418 @pedrofan @peepawispunk @readingiskeepingmegoing @maryfanson @anoverwhelmingdin @o-sacra-virgo-laudes-tibi @axshadows @picketniffler @underneath-the-sky-again @kaysfanficcorner @noisynightmarepoetry @xmaykeca @orcasoul @sincerelywithheartt

[ummachistaamenos-blog]

filthy me - part 1

summary: You are a young engineer who moves to the Scottish Highlands, your dream country. Amidst the adaptation, you keep bumping into a charming, mysterious, and much older man named Joel Miller, one of the heirs to one of Scotland's oldest clans and a business magnate. And you can't stop having filthy thoughts about him.

warnings: big girthy age gap (20 & late 50s), daddy kink, breeding kink, orgasm control (sort of), Joel calls reader "baby girl" or "mygirl", pervert!joel, discussion of free use kink note: just an experiment—if you like it, I’ll continue.

part: 1 | 2 | 3

...

The door of the café opened with a soft jingle of the bell hanging above it, and the comforting aroma of freshly brewed coffee and warm vanilla enveloped me the moment I stepped inside. The atmosphere was exactly the kind of place I loved: dark wood, shelves filled with books forgotten by regular customers, and a warm, yellow lighting that made it feel like time moved slower inside.

But before I could truly lose myself in that cosy space, I bumped into someone leaving. Him. The man I had collided with at the supermarket two days ago. He didn’t say a word, but his eyes quickly scanned my face, a silent recognition before he nodded in a restrained greeting. A minimal gesture, almost imperceptible, but it made something in my skin tingle.

He was even more handsome under that soft light. His dark hair, neatly combed back, revealed a few grey strands at his temples. The short, impeccable beard only added to his air of sophistication. The grey overcoat he wore looked expensive, well-tailored, as if it had been made just for him. But nothing, absolutely nothing, was as hypnotic as the scent that lingered in the air after he passed. A mix of sandalwood, leather, and something subtly woody, which I knew would take a while to forget.

He didn’t look back. He just walked out.

I let out a breath I didn’t realise I was holding and went to the counter. The barista, a young man with an easy smile and a worn apron, greeted me with genuine enthusiasm.

“Good morning! What can I get for you?”

His name tag read “Marlon” in what I assumed was his own handwriting.

“A cappuccino, please. With extra chocolate syrup,” I smiled, and he smiled back.

“I like your style. And to eat?”

“A muffin. That blueberry one over there.”

He nodded and started preparing my order. I took the opportunity to choose a table near the large window overlooking the back street. As I settled in, adjusting my coat on the chair beside me, my eyes were automatically drawn outside. And there he was.

The man.

Now he was holding the door of a car. A luxurious car, of course. Black, elegant, gleaming under the faint morning light. From his posture, the way he didn’t seem in a hurry to get in, I knew that car was his.

But what really made me hold my breath was the fact that he was looking at me. Without haste, without any attempt to disguise it. His eyes were fixed on me, assessing, analysing, as if he were trying to understand something about me. That intensity sent a shiver down my spine.

My first instinct was to look away. That’s what logic dictated. But something in me resisted. Maybe it was his magnetism. Maybe it was the way he seemed completely in control of everything around him. The fact was, I held his gaze. Even though my shyness screamed at me to look anywhere else, I kept looking at him.

Until Marlon arrived with my muffin.

“Here you go. Your cappuccino is coming right up.”

Only then did I look at him, and when I turned my eyes back to the street, the man was already inside the car.

Marlon followed my gaze and let out a low chuckle.

“Hmm… something good to look at, huh?”

I raised an eyebrow.

“What are you talking about?”

“You were looking at him, weren’t you?”

I crossed my arms and smiled politely.

“Do you know who he is?”

The barista leaned on the counter, assuming a conspiratorial air.

“Who doesn’t? That’s Joel Miller.” The name hung in the air. “Owner of a good part of the city,” he said, picking up a cloth and starting to wipe the counter without hurry. “Youngest son of a Scottish earl. Heir to a filthy rich family, but unlike his brother, he’s not much interested in titles. He’s more into business. Built his own empire.”

My mind was trying to absorb that information.

“So he’s… like… really rich.”

Marlon let out a low laugh.

“Let’s just say the cars you see him driving are just a fraction of what he has.”

My gaze returned to the street, where his car had driven off.

Joel Miller.

I didn’t know whether to laugh or sigh.

But I knew that, somehow, I was going to bump into him again. Marlon leaned on the counter, clearly excited to have a curious audience for his gossip, and I didn’t object, making myself an eager listener.

“And so,” he said, lowering his voice a little, as if sharing a secret, “his name isn’t even Joel Miller.”

“What do you mean?” I frowned, adjusting my position on the chair. “His real name is Joel Paden Wallace MacMiller.”

I raised my eyebrows.

“MacMiller?”

Marlon nodded, waving the cleaning cloth as if emphasising the importance of what he was saying.

“He just uses Joel Miller to avoid involving the family clan name in his business. And it makes sense, because the MacMillers are one of the oldest and most influential clans in Scotland.”

“Wait. Clan? Like… those historical clans, with tartans, kilts, and castles?”

He smiled, clearly pleased with my interest.

“Exactly! Scottish clans are families or lineages dating back centuries, and many are still extremely relevant. Some function more as historical and cultural associations these days, but others… well, others still carry real weight in politics and the economy.”

I nodded slowly, absorbing the information.

“I don’t know much about these traditions,” I confessed, picking up my muffin and taking a small bite. “I’m Brazilian. What we have in terms of tradition is feijoada on Saturdays and barbecues on Sundays.”

“Feijoada?” He tried to pronounce the Brazilian name, which had no direct translation in English, and it came out quite funny.

I could have mentioned the June festivals, but nothing in any other language could translate my absolute favourite time of the year. June’s parties? Too strange and definitely not. Festa Junina it was.

“It’s a dish with black beans, traditional in Brazil. But anyway…”

Marlon smiled and nodded before continuing:

“Well, let me educate you,” he said, leaning his hip on the counter, crossing his arms. “Basically, clans were large Scottish families, usually led by a chief, who dominated certain regions of the country. In the past, they had their own armies, fought over land and power, and some of these families even participated in historical wars, like the Jacobite uprisings.”

Jacobites, yes. You had watched Outlander. I nodded, interested.

“So some of these clans are still relevant today?”

“Very,” he gestured with his hands. “Some clans have influence in local politics, others control incredibly valuable land, and some, like the MacMillers, are forces within the British economy.”

I let out a low laugh, not quite believing it.

“And here I thought I’d just bumped into some grumpy guy at the supermarket…”

Marlon let out a laugh.

“Well, you bumped into the most discreet heir of one of the richest and most influential clans in the country.”

“And what exactly makes his clan so important?”

Marlon tilted his head slightly, as if choosing his words.

“The MacMillers have always been powerful. In the 19th century, they heavily invested in land and infrastructure. They built railways, ports, and even helped finance Scotland’s industrial expansion. Over time, the family diversified their business: banks, oil, gas, technology… you name it, they have a finger in it. They even say the MacMillers have the power and influence they do because they sided with the British during the uprisings.”

I stopped chewing.

“Oil and gas?”

“Exactly. The MacMillers’ portfolio includes massive investments in the energy sector. Refineries, offshore platforms, pipelines… And guess what? Most companies operating in the region have to negotiate with them one way or another.”

I leaned back in my chair, taking it all in.

“So Joel is… what? A discreet billionaire?”

Marlon gave a half-smile.

“Something like that. But unlike his older brother, who’s concerned with keeping the family name in aristocratic circles, Joel prefers to operate behind the scenes. He doesn’t want to be a ‘Lord MacMiller,’ he wants to be a businessman.”

“And is he good at it?”

Marlon let out a short laugh.

“He’s a shark. If he enters a market, he dominates it.”

I looked back at the street, where he had been moments before. A strange chill ran down my spine.

So that was it.

Joel Miller wasn’t just a handsome, enigmatic man with expensive cars.

He was a dangerous man in the best sense of the word.

“One minute!” he said before running off, and I just sat there smiling. Marlon returned seconds later with my cappuccino triumphantly, his wide, unpretentious smile. He placed the drink on the table with theatrical exaggeration, as if offering a treasure.

“Here you go, madam!” he said, his voice full of contagious cheerfulness. I couldn’t help but let out a soft laugh. He had this way of spreading a bit of lightness wherever he went, as if life were a good joke and everyone had to laugh at it.

He sat down unceremoniously in the chair across from me, and in a smooth motion, placed his own sandwich on the table, already taking the first bite without even worrying about the fact that I hadn’t invited anyone to sit. I smiled, finding the situation amusing. Not that I minded. On the contrary, I smiled. I loved people who simply decided to be my friends without needing formalities. Wherever I went, it seemed I attracted this kind of person, and at that moment, I felt a warm glow in my chest. I was new in town, and a new friend was very welcome. I felt grateful for the company and the easy conversation.

Marlon, while enthusiastically chewing, didn’t waste any time continuing what he loved most: gossiping.

“So…” he said with a mischievous smile, wiping his mouth with a napkin and leaning forward slightly, as if sharing a top-secret piece of information, “what else do you want to know about our mysterious Joel Miller?”

I chuckled, trying to hide how curious I was. The idea of knowing more about this intriguing man, who seemed to carry a whole world of secrets, left me with a peculiar feeling of excitement. I knew he had something more than just being handsome and charming. Something heavy and serious, as if gravity itself were drawing my attention. Maybe it was my problem of wanting impossible men and all that blah blah blah about being emotionally unavailable and therefore drawn to the unknown.

But I pushed those thoughts to the back of my mind and continued my conversation with Marlon. I leaned forward slightly, feigning innocence, but my mind was full of questions. And without thinking, one of them slipped out.

“And does he have his own Lady?” I asked, my tone laden with curiosity and perhaps, just perhaps, a hint of mischief. Marlon, completely oblivious to the tone my voice had taken, shrugged, seeming even more engrossed in the gossip than anything else.

“No,” he replied without hesitation. “He was married once, but they separated. It was a very amicable divorce, no kids, no scandals. He’s not the type to flaunt his relationships.”

I nodded, taking in the information. The fact that he had been married and had an amicable separation didn’t seem to match the air of mystery and distance he carried. The idea that Joel Miller wasn’t a man for public scandals or dramatic relationships made him seem even more intriguing, more out of reach.

I think I need an extra session with my therapist.

Marlon was excited, already perched on his seat, as if he couldn’t wait to tell me more.

“But, of course, he’s no saint,” he smiled, his eyes gleaming. “He’s had a few flings… The most recent was with Patricia Donald, a Danish blogger and famous socialite.”

“Patricia Donald?” I repeated, my gaze becoming a little more attentive. “Was she important enough for him?”

Marlon let out an amused sigh, as if he were sharing exclusive gossip and all the details were very important. He shook his head, clearly disapproving.

“I wouldn’t say it was serious. Patricia is famous for getting involved with rich guys, you know? Nothing serious. She likes to maintain her status, the glamour, the luxury… The gossip is that she’s, like, a high-end escort. But of course, no one’s proven anything, so it’s all just rumours. But I’m addicted to those gossip magazines, so… you know how it is.”

I let out a low laugh, finding Marlon’s shameless honesty amusing.

“Wow, I didn’t realise you consumed so much gossip, Marlon,” my voice came out ironic, with a hint of laughter escaping my lips.

He rolled his eyes in a playful manner, clearly not offended.

“How could I not? I’m practically a walking manual on other people’s lives. If you want to know anything about the city, about anyone, just ask.”

I fell silent for a moment, reflecting on his words. It was almost as if the environment itself made sense. The café, cosy and welcoming, seemed like the perfect place to receive all these secrets and mysteries. The window behind me reflected the movement of the street outside, and I felt a light breeze that made me lose myself in thoughts about him. Joel Miller.

“But…” Marlon continued, chewing another bite of his sandwich as he spoke, clearly lost in his own words, “he’s lived in Aberdeen for a long time. Even though he has apartments in London, Paris, New York, and a huge house in Houston, he still spends most of his time here because… well, it’s where his family comes from, you know? Aberdeen is the place where it all started for the MacMillers.”

I looked at him, feeling a stronger pang of curiosity.

“But he has these other places…” I commented, trying to understand.

"Why doesn’t he stay somewhere more… vibrant?”

Marlon laughed and nodded as if my question were perfectly natural.

“Ah, yes. Of course, he has properties everywhere, but he likes Aberdeen. Here, he controls things. Here he built his fortune, his business. And the MacMillers are very traditional, you see? They own the territory here, no doubt. He’s part of Aberdeen’s history. Not just the city, but all of Scotland.”

He was so engrossed in his gossip that I could almost visualise the MacMiller clan spreading like an invisible web, connecting the great families, the powerful, and the very fate of that city. I felt, in a way, small in the face of all that grandeur. He wasn’t just any man. He was a man shaped by a legacy, and that scent I had noticed when I bumped into him… it wasn’t just charm. It was the signature of something much bigger.

I took a deep breath, trying to maintain control over the storm of thoughts that was beginning to form. Suddenly, I was wondering if I would ever be able to decipher all the mystery surrounding him. When the conversation with Marlon was at its peak, he, still with the enthusiasm of someone who had just shared a bombshell piece of gossip, took a bite of his muffin and looked at me, as if expecting something more.

“And how old is Joel, exactly?” I asked, not quite sure why I did, but the curiosity was eating at me.

Marlon, without hesitation, took another bite of his food, with an air of someone in no hurry.

“Ah, he’s 49,” he replied, not even realising that, in fact, he had left me completely stunned for a second.

49? That meant he was almost 20 years older than me. The gap seemed significant, but somehow, instead of pushing me away, it made him… even more attractive. Those faint wrinkles around his eyes, the way he moved with such confidence… It all made sense now.

I blushed slightly, trying to hide my discomfort as I mentally calculated the age difference between us. I loved that. In my mind, everything became more interesting that way.

Marlon, as if completely oblivious to my little internal conflict, continued the conversation in a relaxed manner.

“Unfortunately, the man isn’t gay,” he said, rolling his eyes dramatically while shaking his head. “Because, my God, he’s the kind of sugar daddy I’ve always dreamed of: rich, charming, sexy, and looks like a man who can fuck you hard.”

I almost choked on the coffee I was drinking, but I tried to disguise it with a low cough, looking at him in shock. I hadn’t expected him to be so… direct. He wasn’t afraid to put things out there in a way no one else would dare.

“You’re amazing,” I said, trying to compose myself, and let out a nervous laugh, already feeling the blush fading from my face.

…

The door closed behind me with a soft click, and the weight of the week fell on my shoulders like a ton. I was exhausted. Every muscle in my body protested, every thought seemed slow, as if fatigue had wrapped my mind in a thick layer of fog.

The week at work had been gruelling, full of unexpected challenges and tasks that seemed to multiply like a nightmare. Being a female engineer isn’t easy, as it’s an experience immersed in a world that is 100% male. The men I shared the department with had such a dense, testosterone-filled energy that sometimes it felt like I was constantly being pushed into a corner.

I need some girlie time.

The oil and gas industry isn’t for the weak. The huge egos, the heavy discussions about numbers and results… Still, I tried not to complain, reminding myself of how much it meant to me. How important it was for me to be there, in Aberdeen, living in the place I had always dreamed of, working in what I loved, living the dream I had longed for.

I sighed, feeling the weight of the silence spreading through the room. The urge to call Marlon came over me. He seemed like the kind of person who would know how to pull me out of that state. Besides, he had been kind and open when we met. I knew he would give me a good chat and maybe even some fun. But… I didn’t want to bother him. Marlon had this air of always going to parties, to crowded places, always surrounded by people. He didn’t seem like the type to stay home on a Friday night, watching TV or sharing a coffee.

“But what about me?” I thought, letting a smile escape my lips. I was alone, yes. But at the same time, I wanted to be away from all the social hustle. I just wanted something different.

I stood up and looked in the mirror. I needed to go out. Not because someone had invited me or because I had to go somewhere, but because I deserved it. It was as if a sense of need had formed inside me, a desire to reward myself for surviving that insane week. I deserved a night where I could breathe, where it would be something for me. Something without the pressures of work, without the huge, testosterone-filled gazes.

I stopped in front of the mirror and started to get ready. I didn’t just want to dress up, I wanted to feel powerful, as if the weight of the week was just an obstacle I had already overcome. I opted for a simple black dress, with an elegant cut that accentuated my figure without being vulgar. It was sophisticated, with a touch of seriousness, but still sensual. I completed the look with heels that made my walk firmer, more confident, and a heavy synthetic fur coat to withstand the cold night. I tied my hair in a low bun, letting a few strands fall softly around my face. A touch of makeup to highlight my eyes, and I was ready.

The mirror reflected me back, and for a moment I felt closer to who I was. I wasn’t the y/reader who felt overwhelmed and lost in the midst of testosterone. I was a woman, unique, strong, and capable of giving herself what she needed most: time to breathe, to recover a little of what the pressure had taken away.

I decided to go to a very fancy restaurant in the city. And when you go to one of these restaurants alone, getting a table for yourself is incredibly easy, even without a reservation, trust me.

The restaurant had a sophisticated atmosphere, a feeling of being in a place where time slowed down, where the service was impeccable and the food, a true experience. It was everything I needed at that moment: something that would take me out of reality and make me feel, for a while, like I had total control of the situation.

The soft candlelight, the low murmur of elegant conversations, the waiters with their impeccable attire. I sat at the table and let my body relax for a moment. The weight of the world seemed to disappear a little there. A glass of wine was brought, and I held it for a moment, observing the ruby liquid’s gleam under the soft light. There was no rush. I was there to savour the night, to savour that moment that was just mine.

“To me,” I thought, bringing the glass to my lips and tasting the bitter, comforting flavour of the wine. As always, I wondered if there was something more I could want. If a night like this wasn’t everything I needed to remind myself that, despite the difficulties, I was exactly where I should be.

The waiter approached my table with impeccable lightness, as if every step were choreographed on a stage. He carried a bucket of champagne in one hand, and beside him, a huge bouquet of red roses, with a strong, sweet scent that immediately invaded my senses. I was paralysed for a second, completely confused.

What was happening?

The waiter, with his thick, charmingly Scottish accent, placed the champagne bucket in front of me with exaggerated elegance, as if it were expected.

“Compliments from Mr. MacMiller,” he said with a courteous smile, his eyes shining as if it were a tradition to make such gestures. “He said you look especially elegant and very beautiful tonight.” His words echoed in my mind for a moment, as if spoken in slow motion.

Mr. MacMiller?

Joel Miller.

Him.

The man I had bumped into by chance in recent weeks. That man. That Joel, with his magnetism, his scent, and his overwhelming presence. Had he really… done this?

I felt stunned, my face warmed, and soon I felt my cheeks blushing. It wasn’t something I expected, not at all. Certainly not on a night like this. I was there to have some time for myself, to be just mine, and suddenly, the focus of all this attention.

“He… where is he?” My voice came out softer than I would have liked, a mix of surprise and a touch of nervousness that made me let out a nervous laugh. “I’d like to thank him.”

The waiter looked around the room with a respectful smile and, with a nod, said:

“He must be leaving, miss. Mr. MacMiller doesn’t usually stay long, always on the move.”

He seemed to take pleasure in the situation, the way he spoke, almost as if he were familiar with the fact that Joel liked to leave people perplexed with such unexpected gestures.

I looked at the champagne bucket, the crystals of the bottle reflecting the soft light of the restaurant, and then at the roses, whose scent became almost intoxicating.

“May I serve you?” he asked, gesturing towards the champagne, and I just nodded.

The waiter’s words still reverberated in my mind. Especially elegant… very beautiful. A warmth rose up my neck, and I realised how surprised and confused I was by all of this. It wasn’t supposed to be like this. I didn’t want to be treated like a girl enchanted by a grand gesture, but at the same time, the touch of kindness from someone like him, someone who seemed to live in another world, seemed so… intimidatingly captivating.

I took a deep breath, trying to control the whirlwind inside me. The waiter gave a slight smile and withdrew with the same elegance, leaving me alone with my confused thoughts and the glass of champagne shining in front of me. I should have felt flattered, but something in me was unsettled, as if this gesture were just another piece of a story I didn’t fully understand yet. Something was forming there, a silent tension I didn’t know how to handle.

My eyes fell on the roses, and I delicately touched the petals, feeling their softness. This was real, wasn’t it? He had really done this, and now I felt strange, as if I had been caught in a game I didn’t know how to play. Maybe it was fate, or maybe it was just another coincidence. But for some reason, I had the feeling that soon, Joel Miller and I would cross paths again.

I already felt it, like a sixth sense, one of those inexplicable intuitions that tell us something is going to happen, that something is about to unfold. Maybe it’s just another one of those situations where our paths cross again, and again. Who knew? Maybe the universe was just telling me that he would be part of my story, somehow. And that, no matter how much I tried to ignore it, made me want more.

I took a sip of the champagne, its smooth, refreshing taste helping me relax a little, although the feeling of being watched, somehow, didn’t leave me completely at ease. I knew that, somehow, he was nearby. What did he want with this? What was he looking for? I still didn’t know, but whatever it was, I was already letting myself be carried away by curiosity.

[revelboo]

Can I request more D-16, please? I finally got to see the movie and my heart is hurting.

Sure!

Fight for You Pt 5

D-16 x Reader

• ‘What is it?’ Orion asks, reaching out a servo and he grabs his friend by the wrist. Trusts Orion, he’s his best friend, but you’re just so fragile and looking up at him. Trembling. “They’re a mini-con and you can’t tell anyone about them,” he says, gently pushing Orion’s hand away so he doesn’t just grab at you. And you’ve backed yourself into a corner, chirping nervously. Reaching out he crooks a servo at you. “Come on, it’s okay,” he croons and your round head tips up toward him, then turns to study Orion before wandering over to him and you reach to lay those tiny hands on one of his servos to make his spark warm. ‘D, I don’t think that’s a mini-con,’ Orion mutters, crouching down beside him.

• Shying away when your giant’s companion stretches a servo toward you and yours growls at him, you hope that your guy telling this giant about you means the new one is trustworthy. Because you’re pretty much helpless to their whims, something you’re painfully aware of. “I trust you big guy,” you whisper, nose wrinkling when his buddy makes soft, repetitive noises at you. Is he making psst psst sounds at you like you’re a stray cat?

• Pleased despite himself when you ignore Orion’s attempts to coax you closer, he reaches in and cups his hands around you, lifting you free of his locker. “Of course they’re a mini-con. They’re Megatronus’s mini-con,” he says as he cradles you close, listening to you chirp as you make yourself comfortable in his hands. ‘You sure? I’ve never heard of Megatronus Prime having a mini-con,’ Orion says, reaching to touch you and you lift a tiny hand like you’re ready to swat him. So fierce for being so small.

• Smacking at his friend’s servo when he reaches to nudge your helmet, you don’t relax until your giant turns slightly to put himself between you and the newcomer with a rumbling growl that you really hope is him telling the other one off for poking at you. Because yours has been so incredibly gentle with you, and this other one is smiling crookedly down at you like you’re a curiosity. As yours cups you to his chassis and says something to his companion, you really wish you knew what was going on. For all you know, your guy is trying to give you away to this guy. Suddenly afraid, you reach out to pat his chassis until he looks down at you. How do you mime ‘Please don’t leave me with this stranger?’

• Rumbling in amusement when you flap your tiny hands about, chirping and pointing at yourself, him, and Orion. At Orion a lot. Clearing his vents loudly, he’s not surprised. Everyone always likes Orion better, he’s friendlier, easier to get along with, the one that’s better at understanding others. Mildly hurt that even you prefer Orion, he starts to hand you over and you screech at him. Grabbing onto his servos and fussing at him, flailing a hand at Orion as if to fend him off. Not wanting to go to Orion. Choosing him and he cradles you even closer, servos sliding over you until you calm. ‘I don’t think they like me,’ Orion says with a frown as you chirp aggressively.

Previous

Someone had asked about scales and minis, so there’s a few different scales, but 1/24, 1/12, and 1/6 are pretty common

1/24 would be like the Rolife super creator kits. That stuff scales well with the tiny Defender Blokees and comes with a ton of stuff in each kit

1/12 is a super common dollhouse scale and works well with Galaxy class Blokees. You can find that stuff at hobby stores pretty cheap.

1/6 scale is pretty big think, the Re-Ment minis. Those work for Flame Toys or similar sized figures like the studio series Bumblebee Movie Soundwave

The MiniVerse make it from scratch blind boxes don’t have a set scale. Some of it’s going to be 1/12 and will work with Blokees and some is going to be 1/6. The cupcakes are 1/12, but the cat cookies are 1/6. Zuru’s mini brands are the same way

[rafesgreasycurtainbangs]

Hi, I had this idea and I would really love for you to write it down (only if you want, obviously) 💗

I was thinking of a threesome between Rafe x Reader x Topper, please?

you’re just helping. - rafe cameron

content: 18+ MDNI, doggy style, threesome, eiffel tower position, praise, unprotected p in v, rough undertones, hair pulling, aftercare, rafe guiding topper

yap: this might’ve been my favorite ask ever! thank you so much nonnie

word count: 1.3k

You’d been with Rafe Cameron for six months, and the spark between you had only grown hotter with time. He was everything you craved—tall, commanding, with a rough edge that softened only for you. His possessiveness was intoxicating, the way he’d pull you close in a crowded room or growl your name in bed like it was a claim. Sex with Rafe was a revelation—he knew your body better than you did, every touch precise, every dirty word calculated to make you unravel. But lately, a wild little fantasy had wormed its way into your thoughts, one you couldn’t ignore: a threesome. Not because Rafe wasn’t enough—God, he was everything—but because the idea of pushing the boundaries with him, of adding a thrilling layer to your already explosive connection, felt irresistible.

The thought crystallized one night as you lay sprawled across his chest in his Tannyhill bedroom, the afterglow of another mind-blowing session still humming through you. His fingers traced lazy circles on your back, and you tilted your head to look at him, his sharp jawline shadowed in the low light. “Rafe,” you started, voice tentative, “what if we tried something… different?” He cracked one eye open, smirking. “Different like what, baby?” You bit your lip, then went for it. “Like a threesome. With someone we know. Just once.”

His reaction was instant—his body stiffened, and he sat up, dislodging you as he swung his legs over the bed. “You fucking kidding me?” he snapped, running a hand through his messy hair. “You’re mine. I don’t share you with anybody.” His voice was low, dangerous, and you’d expected it—Rafe’s jealousy was as much a part of him as his smirk. But you weren’t deterred. Climbing onto your knees, you shuffled closer, wrapping your arms around his shoulders from behind. “I don’t want anybody else, Rafe,” you murmured, kissing his neck softly. “I love you. Only you. This isn’t about that—it’s just a fantasy. Something fun for us to try together.”

He stayed rigid, staring at the wall, but you pressed on, your lips brushing his ear. “It’d be someone you trust. Like Topper. And it’d still be about us—you’d still be the one I want.” Rafe grunted, shaking his head, but you could feel the gears turning. Over the next week, you chipped away at him—little whispers in the morning, your hands sliding over his chest at night, reassuring him with every touch. “You’re my everything,” you’d say, straddling his lap on the couch, kissing him slow and deep. “This is just for kicks. Please, Rafe—for me?” Each time, his resistance weakened, his protests quieter, until one night, after a few too many beers, he sighed heavily. “Fine,” he muttered, eyes hard but resigned. “Topper. But he doesn’t fucking touch me, and you’re still mine after. Understand?” You grinned, kissing him fiercely. “Always yours.”

The night arrived, and Topper showed up at Rafe’s place looking like a man walking to his execution. His hands were shoved deep in his pockets, his usual cocky grin replaced by a tight, nervous frown. “You sure about this, man?” he asked Rafe, avoiding your gaze. Rafe stood by the stairs, arms crossed, his posture screaming control. “She wants it,” he said flatly. “So we’re doing it. Don’t fuck it up.” You stepped between them, confidence surging as you smiled. “Relax, both of you. I’m calling the shots here.”

Upstairs, the bedroom felt charged, the air heavy with anticipation. You stood in the center, Rafe behind you, his hands already on your hips, possessive and grounding, while Topper lingered near the door, unsure. Rafe moved first, spinning you to face him, his lips crashing into yours with a hunger that made your knees weak. “You’re so fucking hot,” he growled, peeling your shirt off slow, his fingers grazing your skin. Then he glanced at Topper, voice sharp. “Get over here, Top. We’re doing this her way.”

You shed the rest of your clothes under Rafe’s watchful eye, his hands guiding you as he stripped down too, his jeans hitting the floor. He positioned you on the bed on all fours, your knees sinking into the mattress, your ass up as he knelt behind you. “We’re gonna give you what you want, baby,” he murmured, his voice rough as he ran a hand down your spine. “Topper’s gonna take the front—you good with that?” You nodded, glancing at Topper, who’d finally stepped closer, his shirt off now, jeans still on. “Yeah,” you breathed, “I want it.”

Rafe lined himself up behind you, teasing your entrance with the tip of his cock, making you whimper. “Fuck, you’re already soaked,” he said, smirking as he pushed in slow, stretching you with that familiar, delicious burn. His hands gripped your hips, pulling you back onto him as he started to thrust, deep and steady. Topper hesitated, standing at the head of the bed, until Rafe barked, “Top, get in front of her. She’s gonna suck you off—likes it messy, so don’t hold back.”

Topper undid his jeans, stepping closer, his cock springing free as he positioned himself at your face. You looked up at him, then back at Rafe over your shoulder, his thrusts rocking you forward. “Go on, baby,” Rafe said, voice low and commanding. “Show him what that pretty mouth can do.” You leaned in, taking Topper in your mouth, your tongue swirling around the tip as Rafe fucked you harder from behind, setting the rhythm for all three of you.

The Eiffel Tower formed—Rafe behind you, his hands digging into your hips as he pounded into you, each thrust pushing you deeper onto Topper, who stood in front, his hands hovering near your head but not touching Rafe’s space. “Fuck, you feel so good,” Rafe groaned, his pace relentless, knowing exactly how deep you liked it. “Top, grab her hair—gentle, she loves that shit.” Topper obeyed, his fingers threading lightly through your strands, guiding you as you sucked him deeper, your moans muffled around him.

Rafe controlled it all, his voice cutting through the haze of pleasure. “Look at you, taking us both,” he said, his tone dripping with pride and possession. “Tell me who’s fucking you best, baby.” You pulled off Topper just enough to gasp, “You, Rafe—always you,” before diving back in, your lips slick and eager. Topper groaned, his grip tightening slightly, but Rafe’s thrusts were the anchor, driving you forward, making your whole body hum.

“Top, use your thumb—rub her lips while she’s on you,” Rafe instructed, his voice hoarse now, his own control slipping as he watched you. Topper did, brushing his thumb over your lower lip, smearing your spit as you worked him, and the added sensation made you clench around Rafe. “Fuck, she’s squeezing me,” Rafe growled, slamming into you harder. “You’re close, aren’t you, baby? Let it happen.”

The dual assault—Rafe’s cock hitting that perfect spot inside you, Topper’s length filling your mouth—sent you spiraling. Rafe’s hands slid up your back, one wrapping around to tease your clit, and that was it. You came hard, moaning around Topper, your body shaking as Rafe fucked you through it, his voice a lifeline. “That’s it, baby, come for me—I’ve got you.” Topper groaned, spilling into your mouth moments later, and Rafe followed, his thrusts stuttering as he finished deep inside you, his grip bruising.

After, Rafe pulled you back into his chest, collapsing onto the bed with you tucked against him, his arms possessive as he kissed your temple. Topper stepped back, grabbing his shirt, clearly aware his role was done. “You okay?” Rafe murmured, brushing your hair from your face, his eyes searching yours. You nodded, smiling softly. “More than okay. That was… insane. Thank you.” He smirked, kissing you slow. “Anything for my girl.”

Topper slipped out of the room, and Rafe held you tighter, his breath warm against your neck. “Still mine?” he asked, a rare vulnerability there. You turned, kissing him deep. “Always. You’re everything.” And as you melted into him, you knew this night had only made your bond unbreakable.

౨ৎ ⊹₊⋆ — taglist: @littlelamy @drewstarkeyswife0 @icaqttt

[slut4thebroken]

Just Business

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

Pairing | Robert Fischer x dom!reader

Summary | He’s a brat and deserves way worse than this tbh.

Warnings | Smut, non con more like dubcon tbh, heavy misandry🤭, humiliation, degradation, light praise, cunnilingus, brat taming.

Words | 2.4 k

Notes | Idk this was originally supposed to be way more non con-y than it turned out lol.

Ao3 link | <3

Masterlist

You had an appointment with Robert Fischer at 2pm… An hour later and you were still waiting. Finally his secretary brought you into his office. 

“Ah, yes— The potential partner. Let’s hear it then.” He sighed leaning back in his chair. You sat down on the chair in front of his desk, trying to mask your anger. 

“Our meeting was supposed to be at 2.”

“Yes, well, something came up.” You already didn’t like him…

“If this is the way you treat your business partners, I don’t think we’ll be a good fit,” you started, but he cut you off. 

“I thought they were sending someone to go over the proposal— not an assistant.” He huffed. You clenched your jaw as you stared at him, holding back your emotions. 

“The man you spoke to on the phone who scheduled the meeting was my assistant.” That made him scoff. “You know what? Thank you for your time, Mr. Fischer, but I don’t think we’re a good fit for each other.” You said, standing up. 

He let you get halfway across the room before he stopped you. “Wait.” He sighed. “I... apologize for my lack of professionalism. Please continue with your proposal.” Even though you wanted to leave, you forced yourself to sit back down. 

As you spoke, Robert seemed to have a hard time paying attention. There were rumors that he was a nepo baby through and through, but you didn’t think he’d actually be unqualified… You were handing him printed notes as you explained that detailed the numbers and what not. However, it didn’t really seem like he even understood what was on the papers… 

“Mr. Fischer,” you said impatiently when he, once again, was just staring out the window.

“Sorry.” He cleared his throat, looking at you again. 

“Am I boring you?” You asked plainly, reaching the limit of your patience. 

“Not you… Just.. the content…” You couldn’t believe how incompetent this man was. Sighing heavily, you closed your eyes for a moment to compose yourself. 

“Is there anyone else I can meet with? Your father perhaps?” 

“He doesn’t handle this kind of stuff.”

“Clearly you don’t either.” You scoffed before you could help it. 

“I handle it just fine.” He suddenly snapped, getting defensive. “Usually I meet with men who just talk to me, not give a whole presentation like a robot. And I’m not constantly distracted by their tits.” He spat, glancing at your chest for a few seconds before meeting your gaze again.  

You raised your brows, giving him an unimpressed look. “Hm…” You finally hummed, getting lost in thought. Robert was surprisingly misogynistic for how… non-dominant he seemed to be. 

“What?” And he just kept getting brattier… You finally stood up, but you didn’t gather your things to leave. Instead, you slowly rounded the desk until you were standing next to his chair. He turned to face you, looking both confused and irritated. Placing one hand on the back of his chair and leaning down into his space, you used your other hand to grab his cheeks, holding him still. 

“Listen closely, Mr. Fischer because I’m only going to say this once.” You told him, your voice low and stern— almost sensual… He almost seemed shocked, but he hid it fairly well. “My boss wants this partnership to work out. Based on the way you asked me to stay, I’m assuming your father feels the same. I’ve laid out all of the facts for you, but since you can’t seem to understand, I’m going to change the terms of the deal.” He frowned when you blatantly insulted his intelligence. 

“You’re going to prove to me that you want it— that you’re willing to work for it. If I’m satisfied, then we’ll move forward with this partnership. If not, well… I’m sure your daddy will be very disappointed.” 

You felt his cheeks tense under your fingers when he clenched his jaw. “How am I supposed to do that?” He scoffed, his bratty attitude still going strong. You released him and straightened up, looking down your nose at him. 

“Get on your knees.”

“Excuse me?” He choked out, staring at you with wide eyes. 

“Get on your fucking knees or I’m leaving.” You said harshly. He hesitated for a moment, then clenched his jaw again. Finally, he moved to the floor, kneeling at your feet. “There you go…” You cooed mockingly, making him scowl. You walked around him to take his place in the chair. “Face me.” He huffed, but turned around toward you. 

“Have you figured it out yet or do I need to spell it out for you?” He watched the way you settled back into the chair, your legs spread as wide as your pencil skirt would allow. 

“You… Are you insane? I’m not fucking doing that!” 

“No?” You cooed, tilting your head as you looked down at him. “Fine. I’ll leave and I’ll tell my assistant to call your daddy— tell him why this deal didn’t go through.” Despite your words, you didn’t move, giving him another chance. “Or…” Your voice lowered and you leaned forward, reaching out to grab his tie. He let out a choked sound when you yanked on it, pulling him closer. “You can be a good little boy and put that bratty mouth of yours to good use.”

“H-How dare you? Coming here— to a building with my fucking name on it— calling me bratty? I should be contacting your superiors.” He scoffed, making you smirk. Even with the outburst, you could tell he was already crumbling. 

“I wouldn’t call you bratty if you’d stop behaving like a brat.” You said plainly, only making him more angry. “Listen, Robert,” you sneered patronizingly, “either you eat me out or I leave. You don’t have any other options.” 

“No! Are you even hearing yourself?” He yelled, making you sigh. “I- I have a girlfriend. I’m not just going to cheat on her because you’re blackmailing me.” 

“Blackmailing? Please,” you scoffed, “I’m not blackmailing you. And I’d hardly call this cheating.” 

“Then what the fuck would you call it?” He asked in disbelief.  

You hummed softly in thought as you considered it for a moment. “Business.” You all but shrugged. He watched with wide eyes as you grabbed the hem of your skirt and lifted it up above your hips, showing your panties. “Get to it, Robert. You’ve already made me late for another meeting, you don’t want to be the reason I miss a second one today.” 

He gaped at you, his gaze shifting between your eyes and your crotch. “You’re fucking insane.” He finally said. 

“No. I just actually earned my position and I have plenty of experience with bratty men who are used to getting everything they want.” He clenched his jaw and the tips of his ears tinged red with anger. “I won’t tell you again, Robert. You have five seconds to start or I’m leaving.”

Robert let out a heavy breath through his nose, but moved forward reluctantly, practically seething in rage at the fact that you were sitting in his chair in his office in ‘his’ building, demanding he service you sexually. And yet…

He pulled your panties to the side and got to work. At his clear attitude and lack of enthusiasm, you sighed in annoyance. 

“I thought this was obvious, but if you do a shitty job, this deal isn’t going through.” You told him. 

“Fuck you.” He gritted… but obeyed nonetheless. You let out a pleased moan when he dragged his tongue up your folds to your clit before sucking the swollen bud into his mouth. 

“There you go…” You cooed mockingly, spreading your legs wider for him. He rolled his eyes, but didn’t bother with a retort. “God you’re fucking pathetic.” You muttered, looking away from him, bored. You examined his desk, snorting a laugh at the online game that was on his computer screen. At the sight of the coffee cup, you picked it up and took off the lid to smell it— black with sugar… not your favorite, but after sitting in that lobby for over an hour, you deserved a pick-me-up. 

When he heard you drinking, he pulled back. “Are you fucking serious?”

“Three, two,” and just like that, he was back between your legs. You scoffed a laugh and took another sip of the coffee. “Only a man would be so pathetic and incompetent, he has to eat me out just to make a simple business deal.” You muttered to yourself, loud enough that he could hear though. With the exception of Robert, you made a mental note to tell your boss to stop giving you all the stupid potential business partners. 

“At least you’re pretty though.” You sighed, running your freehand through his hair, making his eyes snap up to your face. God- his eyes… So fucking pretty— They’d probably look even more pretty all glossy with tears… “I swear, if you weren’t such a dick, I’d take you to dinner instead of making you eat me out like a common whore.” You frowned, feeling almost disappointed. “But maybe you’re only a dick because I haven’t put you in your place yet.” 

He tried to pull back, but you just grabbed his hair and yanked him forward again, burying his face in your pussy— You were mostly talking outloud to yourself anyway, so he didn’t need to worry about doing something as silly as talking back. 

“I’ll wait and see what your attitude is like after you make me come all over your face, then I’ll decide whether I should have my assistant set up dinner or not.” You decided. Robert tried to speak, but you were holding him against your cunt too firmly. “Shh… You’re so much prettier when you’re not running your mouth, sweetheart.” The way his cheeks went bright red made you grin sadistically. 

“Use a finger.” You commanded, getting antsy for your orgasm already. Robert huffed, but used the hand that wasn’t holding your panties to slide a finger inside you. “Good boy.” You smiled. He let out a quiet sound when you started petting his hair again. 

“You should feel lucky, you know. I’ve been so busy recently that I’ve barely had any time to get off for almost two weeks straight so I’m already getting close.” He let out another muffled sound in response, slipping a second finger inside you. “Oh, look at you… Such a good boy taking initiative.” You cooed mockingly. Was he just trying to get this over with faster? Maybe… But you didn’t really care. You’d have plenty more opportunities for Robert to take his time now that you were going to be business partners. 

The constant suction on your clit with the way his fingers curled inside you made your back arch off the chair, pushing your hips down onto his face. Robert might’ve been a spoiled brat, but damn if he wasn’t amazing at eating pussy…

“God- you look so fucking pathetic with your pretty face buried in my pussy… and you love it, don’t you?” He grunted something unintelligible, but it wasn’t an obvious denial, at least. “Yeah you do.” You chuckled. 

“C’mon, Robert… Be a good boy and make me come— make your daddy proud and secure this partnership all on your own like a big boy.” You couldn’t help but smirk as you patronized him, but he didn’t get angry or try to pull away. He just let out another sound and started sucking and licking more enthusiastically. 

You brought your other hand down to his head as well, holding him firmly against your cunt. Your toes were curling in your heels as the pleasure continued building, until finally it all snapped. 

You bit your lip to stifle a moan, knowing you couldn’t be too loud since you were still in an unlocked office. Robert whimpered when you forced his face against your pussy hard enough to squish his nose against your pubic bone and limit his breathing. Despite that, he never stopped sucking on your clit or moving his fingers inside you. Your cunt was gushing and pulsing around his digits, your clit throbbing in his mouth as waves of pleasure rolled through you, and nonsensical praises left your lips. 

“Fucking hell… I needed that more than I thought I did.” You said through a breath, panting heavily. As you sagged back into the chair, you loosened your grip on him, but didn’t let go completely, you just let him pull back a tiny bit. He was also panting, the lower half of his face almost completely drenched, his cheeks a dark pink, and his eyes glazed over with what you assumed was lust. 

“You were better at that than I thought you’d be…” You told him, but he barely reacted. “Take your fingers out and suck them clean.” You ordered, wanting to test whether he was still just out of it, or if you actually broke him down already. 

He carefully extracted his fingers, then put them in his mouth, his eyes fluttering as he sucked off your arousal. 

“Huh.” You said to yourself, slightly shocked— That was way too easy… As another test, you picked up his coffee cup and took another sip, making sure he was watching. 

He just licked his lips, then cleared his throat. “…Are you going through with the partnership?” He managed to say, and you couldn’t hold back a smirk in time. 

“I need to think about it some more. My assistant will call you tomorrow to arrange dinner plans. I’ll give you my decision then.” You finally released his hair and ran your fingers through it a little, trying to smooth it out so it didn’t look like he just had his head buried between your legs… “Do you have anything you want to say to me for giving you another chance?” 

“Thank you.” Your smirk turned into a pleased smile and you cupped his cheek, brushing your thumb over his bottom lip. 

“You’re welcome, sweetheart. Keep being a good boy and I’m sure this partnership will work out just fine.” He nodded dumbly in response and you stood up, fixing your panties and pulling your skirt back down. Robert just stared up at you, almost in a trance, and watched in awe. 

“Oh, and, Robert?” You leaned down a little, taking his warm cheeks in your hand to make sure you had his full attention. “The next time you think you can get away with being a brat to me, you’ll be doing much worse than just eating me out.” You smiled sweetly, making his poor, fucked out little head lag as he struggled to understand the real meaning behind your words.

(Also yes, I already started part 2 lol)

[doki-doki-imagines]

Michael Kaiser x afab!Reader

warning: smut w/o plot, use of the word puppy.

a/n: saw the official Kaiser art and went insane. pls understand my situation

Today is a rainy day, the atmosphere is glum and perfect to spend the day watching trash shows inside your boyfriend's house. Those are your plans.

Not your boyfriend's, tho.

"I told you months ago I had a meeting with the coach and teammates tonight, I should be the one pissed off because you forgot." 

You hear coming from Michael's bedroom, door closed while you keep hugging his enormous blue pillow. 

"I see you sulking from here." You can only hug tighter the pillow, face fully on it as you try to hide your, in fact, sulking face.

"Hey, how do I look? Option a: beautiful. Option b: beautiful but more felt."

You lift your head up, just the bare minimum to look at your boyfriend who is probably now standing at the end of the sofa. Your mouth dries up before feeling saliva rush all of a sudden into your mouth. All of a sudden, heath rushes down your spine, spread to the fingertips.

"Too stunned to speak, I guess." Michael smirks, the hot kind that gives you a tingle, muscle memory telling you that a good time should come.

You finally stand on your feet, standing in front of him "Mh, uh-" You feel up his shoulder under the red jacket he is wearing. "Yeah, I mean-" You keep stuttering, your hands now caressing down his torso, creating temporary creases on the black shirt. He keeps looking at you, blue irises locked into your face, shining with mirth, noticing every little twitch of your face.

Your knees hit the ground, softly at least not to look as desperate as you really are, as you palm his thighs, big and muscular under your palms. "Silk, mh?"

"Glad you noticed." He chokes out, his tattooed hand now caressing the back of your head.

"Mh-" You half moan, cheek rubbing into his lap before looking up, eyes wanton "Please?"

"I have to go, dear." He chokes again on his breath, while you keep rubbing your face on his half-mast. 

A silent beg, as desperate as a hungry kitty. You know you are gonna win this. You look up again, he is biting his lower lip, his hand now caressing your cheek before groaning, eyes rolling, but his hands pull both his pants and boxers down. "Thank God."

"Fast puppy." He orders, voice guttural and you have no backbone to snap back.

You don't lose more time, caressing his length, still rubbing your face on his cock, getting harder minute by minute. "Pups-"

 "You look so good." You moan, lips now on his tip kissing it before taking taking his shaft into your mouth.

"Ghn-"

You moan while you suck him, vibration making him shiver too, while his hand keeps caressing the back of your head, never pushing his length to your throat.

"You are so good-" You keep moaning, when taking a break from sucking his cock, your hand jerking it, eyes closed but with tears rolling down from the corner. It's truly a lewd picture, not to count the string of saliva connecting your reddened lips to his manhood.

"Look at me-" Michal groans, his hips twitching but never fully thrust into you, to avoid making you gag; your state was sorry enough already.

 You don't obey, lips kissing his now red tip, precum staining your lips.

That's then that you feel his hand gripping the back of your head, pulling your hair, forcing you to look up.

"Say please." He takes your hand in his, jerking himself at his own speed, blue irises fixed in yours.

 "Please, please Micha-" You gasp, mouth open enough to let the tongue loll out.

A low groan interrupts your plea, his seed stains your lips and cheek, his heavy breath the only sound you can hear.

“Thank you.” You teasingly say winking at him, gathering his cum with your index before plunging it into your mouth, tasting him, eyes locked on his face, where his red cheeks and ragged breath arouse you even more.

“What are you smiling at-“ Michael furrows his blond eyebrows, hand grabbing you by your armpit to lift you up and manhandle you to the sofa, almost throwing you on it. You lay on the short side of the sofa, your butt up in the air kept up just by your boyfriend's hip pushing against it, his soft member soon regaining the previous hardness just by looking at your weak form under him “I haven’t finished.”

 One of his rude hands keeps your leg locked tight on his hips, while the tattoed one slides down your “stay at home” pants, his jerk smirk appears again after seeing the sorry state your panties are in. “You are truly a pervert.”

“It’s not my fault, you look so damn good-“ You’d want to snap back, but instead you have to bite your lower lip to keep a mellifluous moan to come out, born from the crude assault of his thick finger to your clit, rubbing and pinching it under your soaked panties.

“Ah- you look so good.” He whispers out and you can’t stop noticing how good he keeps looking, with the shirt all wrinkled and the tie moving left and right. Blonde and blue strands are now stuck on his sweaty forehead, the tip of his tongue out licking his plush lips, looking like a feral wolf ready to eat its prey.

 A gasp escapes your throat from the image holy.

 You feel him pushing your panties aside before his finger starts exploring your wet core.

“Ah-ah” The high-pitched moan that leaves his throat is so sweet it seems like it’s his body being so deliciously explored by his lover's hands and not the opposite. “Made for me, puppy. So nice for me.” He starts to blabber, mind clearly elsewhere while you’d like to be absorbed into the sofa from the shame of feeling such intense pleasure from just one finger.

 “Tell me how much you want it.” It’s an order, and like an obedient puppy, you do as you are told.

“Micha, please, I feel like dying, please I need it, I need you, please-“ This time it’s a gasp that interrupts your shameless plea, his tip hitting your clit before pushing into your core, catching all your breath.

Your head bends backward, position uncomfortable due to the cramped space, but saying you dislike the feeling would be a lie. Micheal keeps thrusting into you, his upper body getting lower and lower making you feel the pressure of his weight over you, at the same time you don’t know what to hold to anchor yourself to reality, due to the blissful dullness in your mind, therefore you grasp the first thing you find; his jacket, pulling him even closer to you.

“You really wan’ me close, mh?” You can see that also his eyes are starting to tear up from pleasure, words slurred. You nod, biting your lower lip and feeling your own warm tears running down your cheeks.

Then you feel his lips on yours, his tongue already prodding at your entrance, asking for a dance with yours. It’s a frenzy, no studying of each other moves, but just passion encouraging your movements. The hand that was so tightly holding onto your backside, leaving imprints you are sure will be there tomorrow and for the days to come, go to the upper part of the sofa, knuckles getting white from the tight grip.

The thrusts change pace, breath gets caught in your throat. They are slow but strong, the sofa under you moving at each trust a little further. You grip his shoulder, his red jacket now as terribly wrinkled as the rest of his attire, as ruined as you are under his body.

His rhythm returns to the previous frenzy, but with the added strength, pounding into you with no pity.

"You can take it pup, right? You can, c'mon-" He whispers, nodding like he is the one that has to answer his own questions. 

Not that you can't, nodding furiously and moaning incoherent sounds, saliva starting to dribble out the corner of your mouth.

A few more thrusts and you feel his length throb inside your core, pleasure so intense your toes curl.

You are both sweaty, both heavy breathing.

"I'm so damn late."

"You are a football player in a top club, I'm sure the coaches are used to many dumber excuses for being late."

You feel him smile, his face lying on your chest.

"If this is the result maybe we should do meetings more often."

"You could just dress up nicely every time you see me."

"Oh-" Michael now looks at you, blue eyes back to their normal spark "Be 100% sure I'll dress up again, just for you." 

He brushes away some hair sticking to your forehead before kissing it. His lips stay on your skin a bit longer than usual. Michael looks at you with fondness and you've never felt better.