#smart sweet pea

[dewberrybramble]

God- had a moment earlier today-

[peachesofteal]

Can we please please please get some more Simon x single mother au? Possibly him helping in the garden/ keeping emmaline out of trouble while Mom works in the garden

Light on - single mom/neighbor fic Simon Riley/female reader 18+ mdni / mild sexual content

“Ow! fuck!”

Your hand jerks, drawing back to your mouth with a hiss. 

“What is it?” He forces himself still, staring daggers at where the tip of your finger has started to leak blood, a thick drop dripping down the side before you bring it to your mouth, lush lips wrapping around your injury. “Are you alright?” His tone is tightly controlled, even keeled, nonchalant, but on the inside, worry gnaws away at his stomach, chewing through the organ until it’s spilling free and running rampant through his body. 

“There’s a piece of glass in here.” In the garden bed? “Some of the other tenants, hang around up here at night. They usually leave bottles or cans behind.” The worry turns to anger, a simple plan slowly taking shape in his mind, a strategy to find the rooftop partiers, and ensure they never leave glass in your garden again. 

Emmaline cries, nose and brows wrinkled in irritation, and you turn to coo at her, finger still half in your mouth. 

“It’s okay, little pea. Just give me a second.” She continues to fuss, and you sigh, wilting like one of your own little flowers, left too long in the sun without water. You blink, and it’s like you’ve shed your sunlit skin for an exhausted shell. Oh, sweetheart. I know it’s hard, but you don’t have to do it on your own anymore. 

I’m here now. 

“Can I?” He asks softly, warming at how your face lights with relief. 

“Yes, please.” You point to the bottle that’s tucked in the side of the backpack, and he unbuckles her from the bouncer that you lugged up the four flights of stairs earlier, even though he had texted you an hour before and politely suggested you wait for him to be finished his phone call, so he could help you. 

You went up anyway, much to his displeasure. Displeasure, that he had to swallow, permanently. 

You’re not his. Not yet. He can’t be disappointed by resistance or refusal when you don’t even know all the ways he can be there for you yet. He knows you’ll learn. You’re a smart girl. His smart girl. 

Emmaline lays nestled in the crook of his elbow, slightly elevated on her back, and he pops the cap of the bottle easily, rubbing his index finger against her cheek to trigger the reflex that will open her mouth. When it does, he keeps it at the right angle to ensure the formula doesn’t flow too fast into her belly. 

“You’ve done this before.” You murmur, reaching into the backpack for a band aid. You’re studying him, tracing over his face, his hands that are nearly the size of your baby, and he can feel the scrutiny, the curious intensity of your gaze. 

“Had a nephew. I was around a lot, when he was this age.” He had a brother too. And a mother. A sister-in-law. A family. 

Emmaline gurgles around the nipple, and he slips it free, sitting her mostly upright, giving her a gentle pat on the back amid her protestations, little grunts that he’s sure she means as ‘feed me’ and ‘more’. He waits for you to ask him the dreaded questions, the focus on the word had, the inevitable conversation about loss and family and pain, guilt and grief that can make a man feel like he’s been buried alive. 

You don’t.

Instead, you simply say, 

“Emmaline had a dad once, too.” 

It’s nearly 2100 when you knock on his door later, baby monitor in one hand, two amber colored bottles in another. 

“Hey. You busy?” His heart does a double tap inside his chest. Bad timing, the worst. Your sweet mouth is slightly open, hopeful, teeth parted just barely to reveal a flash of tongue, and his jaw clenches against the wild need that catapults through his veins to his cock. What do you taste like? What do you feel like? You motion to the monitor. “Just went down. Figure I have about an hour before I pass out myself and could use some adult time.” Shit. The duffel bag next to the door practically speaks for him, irritatingly reminding him he has a plane to catch in less than two hours. 

“I can’t, I’m about to head out.” Your brow furrows, confusion churning into understanding within a moment, disappointment flickering across your expression before it smooths out. 

“Right. Okay.” 

“I want to.” He hurries the words. “But I travel… for work and I have to be on a flight in a few hours.” You’re already half turning away, slinking off to your apartment, giving him a soft agreement as you go. 

“Sure, yeah.” 

“Wait, sweetheart,” You startle at the pet name, eyes going wide at the inferred affection. “when I get back, let’s… have a drink.” You nod, and he smiles a real smile, barely tugging his lips upward, probably hardly visible to you. The kind of smile he’s been wearing around you these past two weeks, the kind of smile he tries to give Emmaline when she stares at him. 

“Alright, sounds good then.” Your key finds your lock, and he steps out into the hallway, trapping your gaze with his own. 

“You girls be good.” He says, a parting instruction, and a bashful, bewildered smile of your own curves across your mouth. 

“We will.”

[amirasainz]

Do you know the video.of the little Asian girl crying because the school gave her so much homework and the dad comforting her?

Could you do one where it is Lewis and his little daughter. She arrives later to the race week with her Nanny and is crying because of homework. Lewis comforting her while also trying to hold his laughter. Can you also add George and the Mercedes team (maybe they are in a meeting?)

Thank youuuu❤️❤️

Ok, so because I am getting a lot of Lewis daughter requests, I finally gave her a name. Hailey Hamilton (super cute in my opinion)

Enjoy reading and send some requests

-xoxo, Babygirl 💋

A father's comfort

The early morning sun filtered through the tall windows of the Mercedes team headquarters, casting a warm glow on the sleek, modern meeting room. Inside, the air was thick with the tension of strategy and the relentless pursuit of perfection. Lewis, flanked by Toto and George, was deep in conversation about the upcoming race weekend. They discussed tire strategies, car setups, and team dynamics, each voice blending into a symphony of high-pressure motorsport.

Suddenly, the meeting room door swung open with a loud thud, cutting through the serious atmosphere. All heads turned as a small figure burst into the room. It was Hailey, Lewis’s four-year-old daughter, her face streaked with tears, her bright pink backpack bouncing against her back. Her eyes widened when she spotted her father, and without hesitation, she ran straight into his arms.

“Daddy!” she cried, burying her face into his chest, her tiny body trembling with sobs. “I don’t want to do my homework! It’s too hard!”

Lewis’s heart melted as he enveloped her in his strong embrace, a protective barrier against the world’s worries. He glanced at Toto and George, whose expressions mirrored his surprise but quickly transformed into amusement. The rest of the team members looked on with a mix of sympathy and barely contained laughter.

“Shh, it’s okay, sweet pea,” Lewis said softly, holding her close. “What’s all this about homework?” He could feel her small frame shaking with every hiccup, and he fought to keep a straight face, finding it hard not to laugh at the absurdity of the situation.

Hailey pulled back just enough to look up at him, her big brown eyes shimmering with tears. “I have to color two pages and remember a poem, but it’s too many things! I don’t want to!” she whimpered, her tiny hands clutching the fabric of his shirt.

“Homework can be tough, can’t it?” Lewis said, trying to soothe her with gentle words. “But I bet you can do it. You’re so smart, just like your daddy.” He glanced over at Toto, who nodded in agreement, a smile breaking through his usually stoic demeanor.

“I can help you with the coloring later, Hailey,” Toto added, leaning down to her level, his voice warm and inviting. “And the poem, too. What’s the poem about?”

Hailey sniffled, her little face scrunching up as she tried to remember. “It’s about a butterfly… it flutters and flies,” she mumbled, wiping her nose with the back of her hand.

“That sounds beautiful!” George chimed in, crouching down beside her. “Butterflies are so pretty! Maybe you could draw a butterfly for your coloring pages. We can make it the biggest and best one ever!” He flashed her a bright smile, trying to distract her from her tears.

Hailey looked between her father and the two men, still clutching Lewis tightly. “But I just want to play! I don’t want to do homework!” she cried again, a fresh wave of tears spilling down her cheeks.

“I know, love,” Lewis said gently, his heart aching for her. “But what if we make a deal? If you finish your homework, we can go for ice cream after the race. How does that sound?” His voice was soothing, and he brushed her hair back from her forehead, trying to comfort her.

“Ice cream?” she repeated, her eyes lighting up slightly through the tears. “With sprinkles?”

“Of course! And chocolate sauce, if you want it,” Lewis promised, laughing softly now, his heart swelling at the sight of his little girl. “But first, we’ve got to tackle that homework, alright?”

“Okay…” she sniffled, her voice softening as she glanced around the room, taking in the chuckles from the team members who were trying unsuccessfully to maintain a professional demeanor. “But it’s still so hard!” she pouted, climbing onto Lewis's lap as he settled back into his chair.

“Let’s take it one step at a time,” he said, holding her close. “We can color one page together first, and then you can practice the poem. I’ll even help you memorize it! How does that sound?”

Hailey wiped her eyes on his shirt, her face lighting up just a bit at the thought of doing it with him. “You’ll help me?” she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

“Of course, Hailey. I’m always here to help you, no matter what,” he assured her, holding her tighter. As he spoke, she rested her head against his chest, her eyelids growing heavy.

“Daddy?” she murmured sleepily, a hint of a smile appearing as she felt safe in his embrace.

“Yes, love?” he replied softly, gently stroking her back.

“Can we read a story after?” she asked, her voice barely a whisper now, fatigue washing over her.

“Absolutely. We’ll read as many stories as you want,” Lewis promised, smiling at her. “But first, we’ve got to get you to finish that homework, okay?”

Hailey didn’t respond; instead, she let out a small yawn and nuzzled into his chest, her small form relaxing against him. The room fell silent, the earlier tension replaced by the warm, tender moment unfolding between father and daughter.

The sight of Lewis holding his daughter, her little body curling up as she fell asleep, made the team erupt in laughter, the sound echoing off the walls. Even Toto struggled to maintain his composure, wiping tears of laughter from his eyes.

“I think she’s out, Lewis,” Toto chuckled, shaking his head in disbelief.

“Yeah, I’d say we’ve officially lost her to the nap,” George added, unable to hide his smile. “What a way to end the meeting!”

Lewis looked down at his daughter, her peaceful face nestled against him, and couldn’t help but laugh himself. “Guess I’m going to have to finish that homework for her,” he said, his voice light with amusement. “But I wouldn’t trade this moment for anything.”

As the laughter continued to bounce around the room, Lewis sat quietly with Hailey, knowing that despite the chaos of the race weekend, there was nothing more important than these little moments with his daughter.

[charliemwrites]

Part 2 of charmed serial killer Simon. (Part 1 is here.)

This part is heavily inspired by this particular Badjhur audio “Surviving the Slasher” from, like, a long time ago. Where he’s a killer. Easier to find than expected, thank you masterlist. It permanently has a room in my pea brain, no rent, utilities included.

You’re out with your little friends again. Simon scoffs to even call them that. You give them so much more than they even try to give you - support, encouragement, time, energy.

One of them has a shitty deadbeat boyfriend that’s throwing a flat party, so they’ve dragged you along per usual. You’re still swearing off alcohol after the last time you went out - when you got a ride home with him. So you’re totally sober when the rest of the idiots suggest “investigating” the abandoned hospital on the other end of the block.

You go with them as the only fully-sober one, but spend the whole, stumbling trip trying to convince them to go somewhere, anywhere, else.

Apparently the boyfriend fancies himself something of an urban explorer because he knows just how to get in, bragging that he’s going to start some stupid internet show looking for ghosts there. You end up getting knocked into a half dozen times just trying to keep your woozy friends from getting tetanus.

It doesn’t take long at all for someone to suggest hide and seek. You try adamantly to put your cute little foot down - reminding them that it’s dirty and structurally unstable and there could be people just trying to camp out in peace in here. You’re adamantly ignored and your friends scatter.

And Simon starts to hunt.

Oh, he wishes he could have seen your face when the screams first started. If you recognized the shriek of Addy, the one who yanked you away from a proper apology when you first bumped into him at the bar. Wonders if you felt anything when Simon stabbed her boyfriend in the stomach and sent him stumbling away to incite more terror.

Of course you did. His pretty little chatterbox, coming to the rescue as soon as you heard their cries.

You get yourself lost trying to find someone, anyone. He picks off your group one. By. One. He finds you trying to triage a nasty slice to Heather’s thigh. She was talking shit about you just two days ago to Addy.

And oh, how brave you are, trying to stick with her to the very end. All it takes is one well-placed throw and you’re scrambling back as Heather burbles blood.

He takes a single, loud step towards you - and you bolt. Such a smart thing, you don’t even glance back to see if he’s following. He’s not; there’s still trash to take care of.

You find one more friend - one he doesn’t mind so much, mostly because you just met tonight. She’s crying, making a fuss and you’re trying to soothe her while still focused on escape, letting her cling to your arm.

Simon starts herding you both towards an easy exit. A few well placed foot falls here, a jaunty whistle there. He loves watching your big eyes dart toward the noises, how you get low like a bunny hiding in brush. Always put yourself between your new friend and wherever you think he could come from.

Your friends’ blood is beginning to dry when he decides it’s time to wrap things up.

He appears in a doorway, and you shove at your fellow survivor, make her squeeze through the rusty door first. You’re just starting to follow when he snags you around the middle. You yelp, feet kicking at air, tugging at his soaked hoodie sleeve.

He shoves your back against a wall and presses close, the flat of his knife against your pretty cheek.

“What did we learn tonight, hm?” he mocks.

You’re flinching away, but know better than to struggle or scream. So clever.

“W-why are you doing this?” you ask.

How sweet, that you can’t understand the motivations of monsters like him. He indulges you.

“To teach you a lesson,” he answers. “Get better friends.”

You look furious, even as tears well in your eyes. He coos over them, tugs the bottom of his mask up enough to lick them as they fall down your cheek.

“S-Stop, that’s - that’s so gross,” you hiccup, pancaking yourself to the wall.

He snorts in amusement and tugs his mask down again.

“Now, I know you’re a good girl with good manners, so let’s see them.”

You blink at him, eyes soooo big. Don’t understand what he means.

He tuts. “Say: thank you, ghost, for teaching me a valuable lesson.”

You press your lips together in a tight, pouty line. He wants to bite them. Instead, taps the point of the knife against your jaw. A silent threat that’s he’s still debating if he means.

But you manage to get the sentence out, stuttering, voice breaking halfway through. Mm, he’s missed hearing your gratitude. It’s almost sweeter this way than all the times you said it in his car.

“You’re very welcome, sunshine. Now, off you go, before I decide to teach you something else.”

You don’t hesitate when he steps back. Peel yourself off the wall and wriggle out to freedom.

Simon chuckles. What a fun little playdate, he’s so glad he let you go that first time. He’ll have to arrange another one soon.

Previous | Next

Masterlist

[pygmi-cygni]

clever boy - MK x GN!reader

reader gender is not described could be literally anything. inspired by this post that made me giggle for ten minutes

sfw, no risky content, just silly cuteness. jake isn't mentioned sorry lockley stans but maybe I'll do another version w him <3

Steven and Marc, Marc and Steven. The two of them, peas in a pod. Keeping each other company in Steven's tiny flat.

Until, you.

You'd caught both their eyes, really, but Steven called dibs because he was fronting when you'd met. Though, Marc argued, he was feeding the poor guy lines because he was blushing so hard he couldn't think straight.

From the first day, Steven wanted to jump the gun and tell you how pretty you were and invite you over forever and gush and gush but no. Marc was patient, reminding him to breathe, to take his time. They were in this together, and he didn't want his hope for your affection to be crushed by his headmate's eagerness.

So Steven sat back, hands wringing his sleeves and a stupid smile smarting his cheeks. You thought he was the sweetest thing you'd ever seen. His sass made you keel over laughing, listening to his funny recounts of ignorant customers or mishaps on the bus.

He was sweet and pretty and so, so clever.

Which is what first planted the seed of doubt that he didn't like you the way you liked him. Steven, as much as he stuttered, was sharp as a tack. He loved puzzles and trivia and escape room games (though the real thing made his hair stand on end). You thought for sure he'd sniff you out in an instant; your growing crush wasn't discreet.

But he never mentioned it, never made a move, nothing. Marc, whom you'd met a few weeks later, was also very smart. He liked deeper conversations, and his warm gaze would be intensely focused on whatever subject you'd picked. Surely, if Steven missed your hints, Marc would give him a wink and a nudge and bam, game on.

Still, nothing but platonic smiles.

Little did you know, a tug of war was raging in your friend's mind the second you left his flat.

The three of you shared a wall, so Marc ensured his whisper-fights with Steven stayed quiet.

"Too soon," Marc hissed into the kitchen mirror. It was small and round, and you had left a little sticky note with a smiley face on it for them to see in the morning.

Steven was tearing his hair out in the small frame, eyes round and watery. Mate, I've never had this much courage to do anything in my life, you know that, please, it can't be that bad!

Marc gritted his teeth. Naive little Steven.

"What if you scare them off, huh? We've known them for a month and you think they'll jump in just like that?"

Steven paused his worrying, realizing for the first time the kind of fallout that might occur. His cow eyes saddened, imagining the empty space that would replace you, if you didn't reciprocate. He couldn't live with that.

"Just a bit longer," Marc sighed, rubbing his face. He needed to sleep. Steven continued to fume, for once at odds with his best friend.

You'd noticed his distance. Steven, always happy to see you, had withdrawn. He waved quietly in the morning, and mumbled a good night when you passed his door. It stung. Marc was stoic as ever, but his jaw was tighter and he didn't look you in the eye.

Something was wrong.

So, like any good friend would, you picked up takeout and a few movies and knocked on Steven's door.

It took a few moments, but your favorite mop of curls soon peeked out from behind the frame.

"Oh, erm, uh, heya, sorry, did we plan something? I, um," Steven still didn't look you in the eye, fumbling with the latch as he stuttered through an apology. You stepped forward and touched his shoulder.

Smiling what you hoped was gently, you eased his worry. "I just wanted to say hi. I brought snacks," you said, holding up the warm bag of food.

Still nervous, Steven nodded and beckoned you inside.

Bollocks, he griped. Marc was having a conniption, trying to come up with a reason to push you back out. It's raining, Steven pleaded, and we haven't hung out for ages and Thai smells really good and they've got that cute sweater on-

That's the problem, Marc tossed back, you'll trip all over yourself like a fool. Lemme front-

Steven had to bite his lip to stop from yelling his dissent. He'd been pestering Marc to invite you over for days, now was his chance.

You were dividing the curry and rice into equal portions while he poked through the movies and games you'd brought. There were a couple of his favorites, Clue, James Bond (The originals, of course) and some he didn't recognize.

"Hey, what's this?" He grabbed a small box and peered at it. You paused your chopsticks and leaned over.

"Oh," you said around a mouthful of rice, "I dunno, Rachel from work recommended it." You picked at your food as he flipped it over to read the back.

20 Questions, it was titled. Forty different cards, each with a subject. One person had the subject and the other had to guess what it was in twenty questions or less. Only three hints allowed and nothing made-up.

"Let's do it," Steven decided. He enjoyed a challenge and if it meant he could hear your lovely voice, he wasn't complaining. Marc had fallen silent, taking to brooding in the background. Probably for the best - he wasn't very good at puzzles.

You wiped your hands on a napkin and took the first card.

"A classic movie," you read. Steven rocked on his heels for a moment, fiddling with his plate.

"Got it," he said.

You knew what to start with. Steven loved classic movies, but none of the scary ones. Probably something historical.

"Does it take place in the last fifty years?"

He nodded, chewing. One.

"Does it have a female protagonist?" Two.

He shook his head gleefully. That familiar Steven sparkle was back, and it eased the worry in your head. He wasn't so off, then. Maybe just a bad week.

"Does the man have a whip?" You were grinning, sure you'd got it. Steven's lips twitched - he knew he'd been found out.

It took only two more questions for you to guess Indiana Jones, to his shock. You blamed it on luck rather than the adorable predictability of your friend.

Steven's turn next, and it took him halfway to guess "Fondue" at Favorite food. You went back and forth, giggling at each other on the floor of his rainy flat. Steven protested when you argued that he couldn't use himself for Favorite Superhero.

"I am a hero," he wheedled, gesturing to the Moon Knight stuffie you'd got him as a joke.

"Yeah, but you can't guess yourself," you argued. Nowhere in the rules did it say that, but it felt good to have your bickering sessions. You'd missed this - bantering over stupid issues with tummies full of food and a fun game to play.

Steven blushed when you mentioned it. "Sorry," he mumbled, scratching the back of his neck. "I got busy, 'n Marc was being pissy 'cause - yeah you were, don't be a knob," he muttered to himself. Your grin twitched at the mention of your other friend.

"How is Marc?"

He swallowed thickly. "Uhm...he's, uh, he's swell. Hang on, sorry-" There was a pause as he flickered between scowling and mumbling.

You ignored his stuttering and resumed eating. He needed space at the moment; Marc was probably arguing over something. You didn't want to make them uncomfortable.

"Sorry," Steven said sheepishly. "My turn, yeah?"

Setting down your empty plate, you nodded. Flipping a card, you saw alarm flash across his face. You laughed nervously.

"What?"

He swallowed and smiled nervously. "Nothing, nothing. Ah, I guess, we can skip it if you want...?"

You snatched the card and froze. Longtime Crush.

Fuck. Stay calm, this will be fine. A door of opportunity glowed in your mind, and you smiled.

"No. Let's do it."

Steven, still wary, nodded and tried to push away the intense shame inside. This was going to crush him. He could feel Marc's annoyance through the barrier. Told you so. Not wanting to ruin your game, he soldiered on.

"Is...are they...a man?" You nodded, eyes glittering. God this was worse than torture.

"Have you known him very long?"

You thought about it. "Yeah, I guess. Feels like forever." Great, you'd had a childhood crush all along. He never stood a chance. Marc was burying his head in his hands. Steven wanted to push him to the front so he could have a good cry, but he needed to face it. His fault you were here anyway.

"Do you see him at work?"

"N....Sometimes," you added. He scrunched his nose.

"Whaddya mean sometimes? Either you do or you-"

"Next question," you laughed. Steven wracked his brain.

"Oh, bugger, uh...." he didn't want to pry, but he couldn't think of anything.

"Need a hint?" You were on the verge of cackling. Grumpily, he shook his head.

"Does he live nearby?"

"Definitely."

He pursed his lips, thinking of your small social circle. Your work was a tiny office, there had to be a few guys that he knew.

"Does...Is he friends with our friends?"

You nodded. "He's very close."

He had to be missing something. "Fine, gimme a hint."

"Well," you began, smile stretching to the moon, "he's very clever. He'd like this game, I think. He likes to laugh, but he can be quite serious too." Ignoring the fact that you'd given him two hints, Steven's heart wilted as he noticed the starry look in your eyes. Whoever this guy was, he was a lucky chap.

Marc was miserable, gloominess radiating. Steven felt awful, he hadn't meant for this to go so poorly. Just get through the questions, Marc grumbled.

"Where does he work?"

You tapped your chin. "Well...he's got two jobs."

His eyebrows raised. "Busy fella, huh?"

"Yeah." Your lips quirked. "Almost seems like he's two people."

"What's his jobs, then?"

"Let's see...it's very unconventional," you said slowly, a cute smile on your face, "Sorta self-employed."

Steven cocked his head at the confusing answer. Self employed? That's not really a second job. Marc shrugged. We're kinda self employed, so it could be.

It was strange how many similarities he found between himself and this mystery man.

"I'll give you a hint," you said after the moment dragged. Steven vehemently shook his head.

"No, I've got it, swear."

You giggled. "it won't count, promise. He's got a pet fish."

Steven threw up his hands in exasperation. "How've I never met this man?! We sound almost identical, I'm sure I'd remember him!"

You were bent over laughing now. He sat there, bewildered, while Marc watched with growing understanding.

Steven, he hissed. Steven, hang on.

Stop being a spoilsport, I know you're mad, Steven retorted, too invested in the game.

"Marc's met him," you said between fits, tears streaking your cheeks. Marc opened his mouth again but Steven waved him away.

"Nuh uh, I can do this," he said determinedly. STEVEN! Marc was shouting now, thumping his hands in vain.

You'd stopped laughing, grinning like a loon while you waited. He'd get it now, surely, you hoped, the fading laughter revealing your anxiety.

Steven had short-circuited, eyes flicking around like a pinball machine.

"You're clever," you murmured, "you'll get it."

He snapped out of it and raked a hand through his messy curls. "Hang on, hang on, what? This doesn't- how can he be friends with our friends when the only man friend you've got is me?" He was genuinely perplexed, triggering a sympathetic smile from you.

Marc was in fits now, and Steven was getting a headache. Oi, Marc, chill out a bit, yeah? I'm trying to-

Steven for once in your life listen this is important oh my God-

"What?" he relented, mouthing sorry at you. Marc heaved a breath and closed his eyes.

You. Us. Steven, it's so obvious.

Steven rolled his eyes. "Me? You've lost it, mate, really, you've gone mad."

He froze, clapping a hand over his mouth. "Oh my days, sorry, I didn't mean to guess so soon, sorry-"

You did nothing but grin, leaning closer. "Clever boy," you whispered, then pressed your lips to his.

Marc fainted.

Steven, sweet man, had frozen, too preoccupied with his internal screaming do understand what was happening.

Oh.

oh.

His hands found their way to your cheeks and he giggled, the sweet sound muffled against your lips. It was clunky and off-centered, but it was real and he was laughing and every insecurity he'd ever had vanished in a puff of smoke.

You pulled back for a breath, but Steven hadn't finished, chasing after you with a huff. Marc, finally back online, was sitting in a lovesick stupor. Your lips were soft and your hands were rubbing soothingly down his back. A quiet solitude had blanketed the flat, now dark. Steven leaned his head on your shoulder and you hugged him tight, smiling into his neck. The two of you breathed together, winding down from the excitement of your game.

Once you'd sufficiently relaxed, you pulled away and were met with Marc's twinkling gaze.

"Y'know, I was the one that gave Steven the head's up, so I think I-"

"C'mere you," You huffed, peppering his cheeks in light pecks. He preened, taking a heavy sigh of relief. Marc leaned in and captured your lips, licking gently into your mouth. He'd definitely had more practice, and your heart sang with joy.

Game over, plates empty and hearts full, you curled up and watched the rain pitter-patter in the warm comfort of your home.

yes i think steven loves james bond. he is the type to try and figure out the mystery along with the movie. also 100% knows all cinema trivia Ever To Exist. Marc hates it.

xox thank uuuu

part 2

[chaotic-mystery]

Peeping Neighbor | J.M.

ꨄ Pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader

ꨄ Summary: Mr. Miller is your neighbor and he keeps calling you at the worst time…what could he possibly want?

ꨄ CW: smut! 18+, minors DNI, peeping neighbor! Joel, perv!joel, age gap implied (Joel’s late 30s and reader is early 20s), phone sex, mutual masturbation, pet names, reader watches porn (wxw/wxm) toys used, size kink, foul dirty mouth Joel.

ꨄ WC: 1.7k

(Technically this would be no outbreak!Joel, lived long enough to see smart phones be a huge thing.)

Let me know what you think! Enjoy!🖤

There was nothing good on TV this late at night and you knew that, but you flicked through the channels anyway, hoping something would jump at you and get your attention. Nothing did, it was all boring shit. You turned the TV off and suddenly your room was almost pitch black, the street light outside casting an orange glow against your bedroom wall. As you laid there looking at the ceiling, your mind wandered and before you knew it your hand was opening your nightstand drawer and grabbing your vibrator, going down your shorts. Slow and soft rubs buzzed against your clit while you thought absolute filthy thoughts. You were just getting into the motions when suddenly your phone was buzzing on your nightstand.

10:17 p.m: Joel Miller Calling

For fucks sake.

"H-hello? What's up Mr. Miller?" you sounded a little out of breath and frazzled. shit.

"Hey sweetheart, sorry I know it's late, did I happen to leave my tape measure there from earlier when I was helpin' your dad? I can't find it anywhere.."

Was he serious right now? Why the hell was he worried about a fucking measuring tape this late at night?

You scratched your head and sighed a little too loudly. "No uh, I'm sorry Mr.Miller, I haven't seen it, I'm sorry." god dammit you just wanted to get your rocks off and go to bed.

"Okay, thanks darlin', I appreciate you lookin' for me. Have a good night." He hung up before you could tell him goodnight, weird.

The app of all your saved favorite dirty videos you watch on a burner account, you know exactly which app, was staring you dead in the eye. You clicked your burner account and scrolled until you found your favorite girl on girl video you bookmarked, and your hand turned on your vibrator once more, pressing straight to your clit. The moaning, the kissing, the pussy eating was making you squirm with burning hot pleasure under your own touch. Crazy what a two minute video can do for you. You could see your orgasm approaching rather quickly when once more, your phone starting ringing and the call was flashing over the dirty video.

10:25 p.m: Joel Miller Calling

This is a joke.

"Yeah, Mr. Miller?" there was no hiding your panting this time, or your snappy tone.

"Jus' wanted you to know I found it, was in my truck." There was something else he wanted to say, he was too cheery over a fucking tape measure.

At this point you didn't even turn off your vibrator, why lose the momentum when you were so close? It was however, very distracting to focus on what he was saying.

"Mhm, yeah that's-that's great I'm glad you found it." Your eyes rolled to the back of your skull and you almost let a moan out when he said your name.

"Is everything okay, sweet pea? You sound out of breath..and what's that buzzin' sound?" Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

You quickly cleared your throat and turned off your vibrator, tossing it to your side. "Oh! Yeah, I'm fine, just doing some stretches before I go to sleep. Buzzing? I don't hear anything, must be your phone. Well I'm glad you found your stuff, but I really have to get some sleep. G'night Mr. Miller!" You hung up so fast he didn't have a chance to say anything.

Sighing deeply, you put your head in your hands and started giggling softly. That was so close. You grabbed your toy one last time and turned it on, pressing it to your soaking wet clit again. Finding another one of your favorites, you watched closely as they started making out, the guy moving down her body and sucking her nipples as he fingers her.

You bent your knees and moved your vibrator up and down along your overwhelmed bud and soft whimpers escaped your lips, eyes screwed shut pretending that was you getting your nipples sucked.

10:31 p.m: Joel Miller Calling

There was ZERO way you were answering for the third time. No, kindly fuck off Mr.Miller. You sent the call straight to voicemail and went back to looking through your catalog of videos. A notification popped up along the top of your phone saying you had one new voicemail. Curiosity got the best of you and you wanted to know what he said. You pressed the phone to your ear and listened closely to the message, vibrator still going against your clit.

"Hey sugar, I didn't get a chance to tell you what I got to see when I went to my truck. You should reeeally be careful with leavin' your curtains open. I was walkin to my truck when I caught a glimpse of you playin' with yourself. Now, It's not a big de-"

You didn't need to hear anymore. Your face was hot with humiliation mixed with anger. You turned off your toy and sat up in bed before you dialed his number back. Who the fuck did he think he was? You heard him pick up the phone and you didn't give him one millisecond to fix his lips to say hello.

"Who do you think you are leaving fucking voicemails like that on my phone?!" you harshly whispered, not wanting to wake up your dad upstairs Joel chuckled and that only pissed you off more.

"Listen to me, pretty baby and listen to me good. I'm gonna help you get yourself off and you're gonna accept the offer because let's be honest here, I've heard you moan my name before when I've come home late and your windows are wide fuckin' open for the whole neighborhood to hear. Now, you dirty lil thing, are you touching yourself right now?"

You never knew your face could get so hot until this very moment. Suddenly all those times you were moaning his name as you were orgasming came rushing back to you, and there was many of those nights. He was attractive, a good face to picture while you came, you admit it. Part of you wondered if this was a joke but the other part wanted to believe he wanted this too.

You took a deep breath and laid back down in your bed, closing your eyes gently. "No, no I'm not, just laying here."

"Ok, I want you to turn on your lil vibrator again like I heard earlier and put it back where you had it, against that pretty lil pussy." His tone was low and seductive, it was hard to stay upset when he sounded so hot.

You did what he said and pressed the buzzing toy against you, moans slipping from your lips. "oo-oh it feels so good Mr. Miller" you whined and pressed harder against the toy.

"Mmmm does it bunny? Would it be better if I was there using the toy against that wet clit of yours while I fuck you? Hm? My hard cock pumping in and out of you while I pinch those pretty nipples of yours and watch you swim in pleasure. Tell you how gorgeous you look wrapped around my cock while I fuck you so good your makeup is running down your face, would you like that baby?" His teasing tone was met with the sound of a belt being undone in the background behind and that added to the images floating in your mind.

"Yes I want that so bad, your cock filling me up to the brim, and I can't take all of it because you're so big. Make me take it all and shove your fingers down my throat before you kiss me, putting your tongue in my mouth. I bet your big cock would feel so good going in and out of my tight hole, Mr.Miller." you breathily respond as the pressure builds in your stomach and goes straight to your clit.

He grunted in pleasure as he took a moment to picture that, and he was breathing heavy now. "Wh-what do you think of when you're cumming sweetheart, why do you say my name? Call me Joel baby."

"Because you're so hot, Joel. I think about riding your face until I cry, I think about fucking you before we'd go to sleep, when we'd wake up, pretty much whenever I'd get a second alone with you. I see the way you undo your belt in your driveway as soon as you get home from work because you want it off so badly and all I can think about is you spanking me with it. " you were being so vulnerable with him, you didn't mean to go into such detail with that answer.

"Fuuuuckkk you naughty girl. You're so fuckin' nasty, I should've called you sooner. Yeah I bet you taste so sweet baby doll. God damn I'd pin you to my face until I'm done eating that pussy. I'd love to have my beard covered in your sweet juices, just glistening before I kiss you to let you have a taste. You want me to spank you with my belt? Throw you over my lap and kiss your ass cheeks before I spank the hell outta them, fuckkk-" he groaned out and you could tell he was close.

"Joe-l I'm gonna cum, i'm gonna fuckin cum right now, oh m-" you squeaked out and you went silent as your body shook with your orgasm. Soft whimpers danced through the phone into Joel's ear and it was enough to send him shooting his load all over his lap like a goddamn water fountain. He was loud when he came, he was cussing and grunting over and over. You laid there in bliss as you listened to him come down from his high, the grunts dying out softly.

"You dirty girl you, I've got cum all over my thighs and stomach. Next time you're feelin' like this, come over. Not like I'm super far." he joked and you laughed with him, replaying what just happened. "I will, Joel. Thanks for the fun. Get some sleep, maybe I'll come over for breakfast tomorrow." you hinted and he gasped slightly. "I better be ready then, shouldn't I? G'night pretty baby."

11:02 p.m: call ended.

[ad7red]

Hey!! Can I have Peter and his gf who's not rlly smart but catches a mistake Peter made in his hw and teases him but he doesn't mind? Thanks xx!

smarty pants | peter parker.

bf!peter parker x reader

this has been sitting in my inbox for a WHILEE i am sorry!

not proofread, no warnings

-

you had just bombed your math quiz and you could not feel any worse. math just wasn’t your thing, ela or history? sure, but math and you were never getting along. and that was a fact.

the only person who might’ve been able to raise your spirits was your one and only genius vigilante boyfriend, peter. which led to you vigorously knocking on his apartment door like you did many times, expecting to be greeted by a familiar peter, instead being met with his aunt may.

“hey, there sweet pea! peter won’t be home for a while, but would you like to come in and wait in his room for him?” you nodded while thanking her, being in his room would help remind you of him.

she walked you to his room, though being here so many times you know the place like the back of your hand.

when you walked into his room you were welcomed with messy algebra homework as well as half-done history homework scattered all over his desk.

you hopped down onto his undone bed and patiently waited for peter to come back to tell him all about how math was the worst subject known to man.

-

after what felt like forever you finally heard the bedroom door creek open, with the curly head following.

“hey, sunshine? how are you?” he said while placing a kiss on top of your forehead. you pouted before responding, and that’s when peter knew he was in for a doozy.

“terrible! peter, i failed my math quiz!” flapping your arms up and down for emphasis. peter patted your shoulder, his way of saying ‘i’m sorry’.

“c'mon, it can’t be that bad” peter was sorely mistaken. it was that bad.

“i got a 25%.” he made an ‘o’ shape with his mouth, as though it physically hurt him to hear that grade.

“i mean, whose bright idea was it to come up with trigonometric functions? when will i ever use that in my entire life?” you began to rant. the grade was irritating you considering you’ve never gotten lower than a c in math.

“okay, come show me what you need trouble with.” peter said while pulling you up from his bed and leading you to his untidy desk.

you told him what was confusing you and he thoroughly explained it, but you couldn't seem to focus with that history homework on his desk.

“it's italy.”

“what..?”

“which country did the renaissance begin in? you said germany but it's italy.” he quickly scanned over the question again, skimming over the small paragraph before it.

“you got me, good job smarty pants!” he wasn’t sour or bitter about it all. if anything, he was happy, he knew how much it would mean to you if you corrected the smartest person you knew.

“i am a bit of smarty pants aren’t i?” and with that both you and peter started to explode in a fit of giggles.

-

[xiao-come-home]

Giggling, kicking my feet, spinning in circles over Boothill...

Just imagine, S/O in a creative field, and they've been preparing for an event where they get to show off their work..

Except, they've been doing it in secret because they don't feel confident and they're unsure if people would stop by for them..

So cue S/O's surprise when they suddenly bump into Boothill at said event—maybe even burst into (happy) tears if he praises their work.. I just know this man's the sweetest for his S/O ;;;-;;;

YUEESS anyway this got kinda long but take it 🫡

You knew the day was coming - the day so, so important in your career that could possibly shift everyone's opinion about you and your hard work. Day after day, more preparations were made, and people who assisted you kept patting your shoulder as you walked by, already congratulating you.

Yet, amongst all of the joy - your hesitation was certainly present. No one close to you knew about the event - not even the closest people, not even Boothill himself, who was your significant other. Even though so many already praised you - just what meaning does it hold if no one actually shows up to the event itself?

The lack of confidence and worrying were the only ones that bothered you to no end - which, Boothill noticed immediately as it was not your usual behavior. Not only were you constantly busy and away from home when he finally got back, but you were constantly stressed out. He tried not to pressure the matter as you were unwilling to talk, but that's Boothill we're talking about - which means - time for Boothill to snoop around and find out himself.

Today is the day. The day you anticipated so much, but also dreaded to finally have it happen. You hop onto the stage, and gasp at the amount of people below. You can't count the amount of eyes that gaze at you, and people seem to be genuinely impressed at your work - applauding loudly, causing you to tear up on stage.

That's a shame you haven't noticed the familiar cyborg who's been watching you the whole time, smiling widely to himself.

Once the official part is over and the festivities begin, people swarm around you to ask you more about your work or actual interviews, but you gently excuse yourself for now under the excuse of being tired. Surprisingly, the crowd goes away, but they'll surely be back...

You breathe in and out, shaking your head from all the attention, but suddenly, you bump hard against something and your hands automatically cover your poor nose; the pain makes you cry under your nose a tiny "oww," just what the hell is that pole here? Was there one before?!

"Ouch! 'm sorry sweetheart! Thought ya would finally notice me, but not that kinda way..." Boothill's voice reaches your ears and you open your eyes in the span of seconds, "I can't believe ya didn't tell me about all of this! A god dang event just for you, and those little motherfudgers that barely let me in, let alone get closer to ya—"

Boothill takes your hands off your face in his, pressing a soft kiss on your nose, "I didn't know my sweet pea was so smart," his voice gets softer and quieter, eyes gazing into yours, "I'm so proud of ya. I really wish you've told me about this, so we could be properly celebratin' this together."

You no longer could fight your tears and let them run down your cheeks, "I'm sorry, I didn't— I didn't think anyone would even show up," you sobbed, "I didn't even know if I could get through this if—" your sentence gets cut off by Boothill's fingers pushing your chin up and staring at you with ungodly amounts of love in his eyes.

"Silly you," he wiped off the tears with his hand, "of course they'd come. They did. So many people are here just for you, admirin' yer work and almost fightin' to say a word to ya. I know ya often doubt yourself, but, as you can see," Boothill looks behind you and see people fawning over your projects, "there's no need for it. You deserve all of this, sweetheart, even if I can't understand a single fudgin' word. You put yer entire heart into this - I see it, love."

Boothill's words only make you cry harder, wrapping your arms around his neck and hugging him tightly - but this time, your tears are those of joy.

After calming down, you sit nearby with Boothill next to you. Sparing him a glance, you confusingly mention the new hat he's wearing, "Ha! Took ya long enough to see! It worked as intended - ya didn't know it was me back there, in the crowd!" He exclaimed proudly, sending you a smug grin.

[johnwickb1tsch]

Sympathy for the Devil ~ Part 10

A Donaka Mark x housekeeper!Reader fic, based on @discoscoob 's concept & bot! Though this is where the c.ai help ended because I was breaking the bot's pea pickin' mind. 😆

Warnings: Donaka Mark is a bad man with a soft spot for you. dark romance, possessive behavior, nonconsensual voyeurism, red flag red flag girl!🔺, psychological games, power imbalance, eventual dubcon/nsfw. PLEASE HEED THE WARNINGS FOR THIS CHAPTER TOO!!!

one. two. three. four. five. six. seven. eight. nine.

Ten. 十

You don’t know where you get the courage to growl at this fierce man who has you in his grasp. But goddammit if he doesn’t just laugh at you–and sling you over his shoulder, carrying you like a caveman to his lair.

You do the requisite pounding on his broad back, the kicking of the feet. You swear it only makes him enjoy it more, as he tosses you down. You brace and let out a yelp, expecting hard floor below. You’re shocked, when you sink into soft mattress instead.

Which maybe isn’t great either. 

You try to scramble away, but his big hands wrap around your ankles, pulling you back, and then he is crawling over you, settling all that solid, masculine–delicious–weight on top of you. You feel him smile against your mouth, your hands pinned above your head. “Am I going to have to restrain you, to do what I want to you?” he asks casually, kissing the sensitive skin of the bend of your neck. “Or are you going to behave?”

You freeze beneath him at hearing the word restrain. As in what? Handcuffs? Ropes? Oh no. Somehow, that would be worse than everything else that’s happened tonight, and you fight not to hyperventilate beneath him, closing your eyes and grinding your teeth, even though all you really want to do is thrash like a trapped animal. 

That’s not going to work with this man. He’s too…everything. Smart. Strong. Cruel. Connected. You’re not going to beat him with brawn and you’d be a fool to count on luck. He watches you interestedly from inches away, as all this plays through your brain. You swear, he can read it like a news ticker scrolling above your head. He knows you so well.  

You hardly recognize your voice, when you ask quietly, “Will you promise…not to hurt me?”

You close your eyes again as he strokes your hair. “No,” he answers, and a spear of fear shoots down your spine. “But I don’t want to hurt you, y/n. I want your submission.”

“I don’t…understand the difference,” you admit, the fresh welling of tears spilling from the corners of your eyes. 

“Hmm.” He wipes away the moisture on your cheeks, bringing it to his lips. “I’m not wife-beating trailer trash, y/n. You’re not going to submit to me because of my fists. That would be too easy.” 

A shaky breath escapes you, as you think about how he’s used his superior strength to bully you so far. If he’s feeling self-righteous…it’s a thin fucking line. “I’m…not?”

“No.” He kisses you, lullingly gentle, cloyingly sweet. You are on even higher alert now than when he’d grabbed you earlier. “You’re going to submit, because it’s what you’ve really wanted all along. And I’m going to show you.” 

Your eyes bug wide.

“I don’t–no! That’s not fair!”

That is when his kiss upon your shoulder turns into a sharp nip. You yelp, and he is on his elbows over you, your face bracketed in his big hands. “You have a very bad habit of trying to lie to me, little one. We’re going to have to work on that.”

“I just…I don’t understand!”

“What is there to understand?” His thumbs stroke your temples, gentle once more. This man gives you whiplash.

“Why…” You try to look away, but he won’t let you.

“If you can’t look into my eyes and say it, then I’ll think you’re lying,” he scolds you. “It’s basic human behavior 101.”

With a growl you glare up at him. For some reason he finds this delightful, flashing teeth. You’re sure he knows, with a gimlet stare like his, how hard it is for mere mortals to meet head on. His standards are unfair. It’s like making a deal with a demigod–or a demon–who already knows he holds all the cards.

“Why me?” you manage to grind out. “You could have anyone.”

“I could buy anyone,” he agrees. He softens slightly, looking down at you. “But you don’t care about my money, do you? You want something else from me.” He smirks, and you are mortified all over again, a flush of heat blooming up your neck. “I read all about it.”

“Ugh.”

He chuckles, enjoying himself far too much at your expense.

When he lowers to kiss you, you consider biting him for about 2.3 seconds.

“Do it,” he dares you, his words a dagger clothed in velvet. “See what happens.” He says it almost eagerly, as though he’d welcome the leave to be terrible again. You have to remember that about him. He dangles tenderness before you like bait, not genuine sentiment. You’re playing a game, and the rules can change on this man’s whim.

He says he doesn’t want to hurt you–you’re not sure that’s true, and it certainly doesn’t mean he won’t. You can trust him as far as you can throw him, and judging by his delectable dead weight on top of you…that’s not far.

You close your eyes, feeling helpless again. And stupid. And…still turned on, if you’re being completely honest with yourself. You don’t know how you’re aroused when you should be disgusted, screaming, crying, fighting–it would win you nothing. He’s going to have his way, so you can fight it…or you can enjoy it for now, and bide your time, because he has to slip up at some point, right?

Right?

He feels the change in you, when you start softening to the onslaught of his lips, his hands on your body tracing every dip and curve. “That’s my good girl,” he murmurs, and you swear his praise lights up something in your brain like a red hot wire.

This isn’t it, you promise yourself. You are in a war with this man. And maybe you lost the first battle, and swiftly the second too, but not the whole war. You are not conquered yet. You are not conquered yet. 

With this new resolve you reach for the buttons of his shirt. They are small, and stubborn, and you let out a frustrated growl that makes Donaka smirk down at you. “Don’t rip it. This shirt cost more than a month's salary for you.”

“Well, you’re always bragging about how much money you have,” you fire back, jerking the two halves. You’re proud of yourself when there’s a tearing sound and the button goes flying. Fair’s fair. Donaka grins like a wolf, then suddenly you are flipped on your belly, your ass in the air and your panties wrenched down your thighs. 

Smack.

You scream, his big hand on your backside stinging like a swarm of angry bees, and instinctively you squirm to get away from him. But he holds you down with an unforgiving grip in your hair, pushing your face down into the mattress.

Then you hear the jangle of his belt buckle again, and the warning hiss of leather sliding free of loops. “No, no,” you beg, struggling, to zero avail. His grip is unbreakable, like this man is made of iron.

“That depends on you. Are you going to damage my property again?”

“No,” you whimper into the bedclothes, hating how small you sound. 

“That’s what I thought.”

He drops the belt beside you on the bed like a reminder, before caressing your tender bottom ever so lightly, soothing the sting. How…does that actually feel good?

He makes a sound of appreciation, pulling you against the hard bulge in his crotch with hands on your hips. He spreads your thighs wider, leaving you utterly open and vulnerable to him. You hate to say it, but you are too unnerved to fight him, so conscious of that leather strap sitting beside you like an open threat.

“Stay there,” he directs, and you do as you’re told, listening to the whisper of fabric behind you as you presume he’s undressing. 

It’s a very awkward position, and your thighs begin to tremble. You are utterly exposed like this, splayed wide open. Yet you do not dare complain, suspecting you have used up your free passes with this man for the evening. He is just waiting for an excuse.

“You are exquisite,” he sighs from behind you. “I could stare at this view all night.”

An equal mixture of uneasy warmth and mortification fills you, displayed like this for him, so utterly open with nowhere to hide. Then you wonder if he’s threatening to keep you like this for hours more as a punishment. Yet before you can even begin to think of what to say to him, he has crouched beside the bed, and his mouth is on you. 

“Oh,” is the only intelligible word that leaves your lips. Everything that comes after is mere guttural nonsense, as his tongue teases your clit, sliding against your nether lips, and you see stars. All else forgotten, you become a slave to pursuing this pleasure, your fingers like claws in the sheets, canting your hips to give him better access to anything he wants. He moans against you, a deep sound that reverberates into your womb.

You whine like the needy little thing you have become when he withdraws, wiping his mouth on the butt cheek he struck not minutes before, kissing you with a tenderness that is nearly as beguiling as his tongue in your slit.

“Shhhh, sweet girl. I’ve got what you need, if you promise to be good for me.” You feel him kneel behind you, the warmth of his hand on your spine, the intoxicating kiss of his tip to your entrance. You’re not proud–but you want it. God, in that moment you want him more than air to breathe. You betray yourself, with the tilt of your hips, with the keening that escapes from your traitor of a throat.

“Mmm,” he practically purrs from behind you. “Do you promise, y/n?” He uses his tip to tease your slick folds, but it’s not enough. Not nearly enough. 

This is just a battle.

You make a sound of affirmative, a kittenish mewl because real language escapes you. 

“Use your words, bunny.”

Not the war.

“Yes.” It's all you can manage, and he takes mercy on you, betraying his eagerness too. Slowly he fills you, stretching your flesh inch by blessed inch until you can take no more. He could give you more. He could hurt you, badly, like this. Yet he’s so careful with you that you could weep, the slow glide of his body inside yours the stuff heaven is made of. 

It's funny. Despite the terrible things he did to you earlier, if you squint, it almost feels like he cares about you. The logical part of you knows it’s all a mind fuck. It has to be. But that part of you…is drowning in an inky sea of your other desires. Things you’re usually good at denying, because they’ve never caused you anything but trouble… Maybe that was a mistake on your part, because now you’re here with this dangerous man, and you’re so pent up that you can’t say no. 

That feeling of bliss intensifies when he reaches between your legs, slowly circling your clit as he pumps inside you. You involuntarily clench upon him, winning a low groan.  He drapes his long body over yours, kissing your spine, his hand encircling the front of your throat. 

“Tell me this isn’t better than just writing about it,” he demands, his low words against your ear sending a shiver through you. 

The simple answer, of course, is yes. The rest, however, is far too complex.

You make a sound that’s neither yes or no, and his grip on you tightens. Still not enough to hurt you…but he could, and you feel that so very acutely in that moment. The fact of the matter is you didn’t consent to any of this, even if you are enjoying it. He wants your complacency, and you wonder if it has to do with conscience, or claiming his victory. 

The latter, you tell yourself. The minute you start to believe he has a heart will be the end of you. You have to keep reminding yourself of that. He does not love you, you stupid girl. He never has, and never will. 

“Well? Tell the truth.” 

“It’s better,” you answer simply, because you don’t have the capacity to tell him the rest out loud right now, and making him happy is the only way you will ever get a chance to escape him. You are going to have to be calculating, and ruthless, and neither of those things come easily to you. 

“That’s my good girl.”

It shouldn’t feel so good, to hear him say that, while he’s balls deep inside you. It shouldn’t make your treacherous cunt flutter upon his relentless cock like you mean to swallow him up, a velvety red orgasm building between your legs again. 

It’s not surrender, you tell yourself as the warm rush fills you, makes you feel like your bones are filled with glittering gold, your spine bowing so hard you fear it might crack. It’s just…a tactical play. You’ve been haunted by curiosity about this man since the moment you laid eyes on him. In the morning, you’ll make your next move. For now…you might as well enjoy it as best you can. 

The games have only just begun.   

[waltzchristophh]

SANTINO LOVES YOU ♡ drabble + headcanons

sonny corleone x reader

Sonny was a frequent at the corner market your step father owned, collecting dues for paid protection and most of all, pestering you.

Please leave comments if you enjoyed!

Your eyes lifted from your book of poetry to the suspicious grocery patron as he stashed a blood orange into his pockets, holding a finger to his lips.

Shh.

The curly haired gangster maintained a subtle grin, pestering you further. That was enough. You stood from the cushiony saddle you rested upon and stomped furiously in Sonny's direction.

"Give it to me," You demanded with an extended hand.

"What? This?" The orange fell from his pocket and rested between his fingers. "You want this?"

Before you could snatch it back, he held the piece of fruit over your head like a cruel older brother.

"Oh, I don't think you're getting this back, sweet pea."

You maintained your dignity by refusing the jump for it, and instead took a different approach.

Your fingers crawled the length of Sonny's strong sides and lept to tickle Sonny's armpits while he still had his hand in the air.

He doubled over in laughter as you wrestled him for the orange. Soon the two of you were entwined in a fit of raucous laughter and giggles. A hastle that seemed nowhere near 89 cents.

"Quit it!"

"Sonny!"

Your step father's gut entered the room before he did. "Ay, Sonny."

The tackling immediately stopped, and the two of you brushed yourselves off, inching away from each other.

Finally Sonny broke the silence.

"Dunno why you bother paying my father; looks like she's got you covered," he shrugged with a grin.

---

headcanons

Your flirtatious affairs eventually turned into actual dates with Sonny knocking on your father's window with his jacket hung over his shoulder

"I'd like to see your daughter."

Within a few months you were one of the family.

You weren't completely oblivious to the family business, often pressing your ear to the door until Sonny caught you and shook you silly.

"C'mon what's'a matter with you?"

"But I can help!"

He rushes you away before explaining the situation: that it was unprecedented for women to be involved in the internal affairs of the Corleone family business.

Several months later after giving much thought to it, he began advocating for you're inclusion in the "family meetings" with full faith in your judgement

"She's a smart cookie, and she knows the trade well, her father owns a Bodega in Queens. They've got intel."

Vito took a liking to you as a young respectable woman, who wasn't afraid to put Sonny in his place.

Your conversations with him were pleasant and you loved hearing his stories about life back in the old country.

Needless to say, he was on board with this change.

A woman (non-italian at that) participating in male discussions was unprecedented. You challenged those norms and Sonny thought that was one of the sexiest things about you

"She may not have italian blood, but she has a strong italian heart, and thats good enough for me. Any questions?"

Any time clemenza tries to interrupt

"Woah, woah, woah- let 'er fucking finish first ya fuckin' jackass."

The two of you making fun of Carlo's flashy clothing at family dinners, which were almost weekly

"Would ya take a look at that fuckin' idiot. Cant believe hes marrying my sister," Sonny's hot breath whispered in your ear.

The two of you would be left in damn near tears of laughter.

"What's so funny?" Carlo would ask cluelessly.

Playing Gin rummy with the fellas and beating them almost every time.

Clemenza dropping his cards in disbelief

"That's my girl," Sonny smiles. "C'mere baby," as he smooches your forehead and cheeks.

With Sonny, every day was a beautiful miracle of joy, but when your father died a pit of sadness darkened your heart and your entire world went black.

He dried your tears with his hard thumb, looking down at you somberly

"Just let it out, honey. I'm here for ya. You're not alone, baby I'll never leave your side."

Looking up at him, hands entwined and sniffling a gentle smile

"It feels like my hands were meant to be held in yours, Sonny. I love you."

"I love you too, pumpkin."

Burying your nose into his chest and inhaling the musky fragrance of his Italian cologne and Cuban cigars.

'Poor butterfly by Sarah Vaughan playing softly on vinyl

Swaying with him to the music as he holds you closer to him. So close you could feel his heart beat to the rhythm

His lips caressing yours with loving tenderness

Monthly vacation to Sicily

Hanging over the edge of the balcony, allowing the straps of your satin nightgown to slip and fall from your shoulders

tipsy with old wine

He trails behind you, snaking a cool hand up your spine and holding your neck

Turning to face him and smiling like a mischievous child, tugging at his gold chain

"I want you to kiss me Sonny. Kiss me till I'm sick of it."

PLEASE COMMENT IF YOU ENJOYED :)

[takusan-no-ai]

Meet the Family

PAIRING: Koleda/Grace x Male Reader (Romantic) (Separate)

SUMMARY: They finally introduce their boyfriend to the other members of Belobog Heavy Industries.

Koleda was slightly dreading about introducing you, her boyfriend, to the rest of her gang. She couldn’t quite place why it was so heart palpitating till she actually brought you over. An immediate headache set in as everyone crowded around you, asking question after question, some invasive.

Grace knew there was something going on when Koleda, her sweet pea, was more “excitable” for the past few months; smiling often, giggling while looking at her phone, and that one valentines day when she had a box of chocolate hearts and oh so obviously lied about buying it herself.

Anton was prepared to make sure you were a true bro, embracing the responsibilities of being in a relationship, and knowing how to stay respectful to yourself and Koleda. Of course, Anton can’t really speak too much for himself in that regard, but he’ll still be there to mentor a fellow bro.

Ben looks out for Koleda, caring about her safety and wellbeing like a parent would. He’d definitely have a “talk” first, though it’s actually really calm and just him asking basic questions, “What’s your job?” “How’s your income?” “Any bad spending habits?” “Future plans?” “Will you sacrifice your life for Koleda?” Ya know…usually stuff.

Grace was actually pretty excited to show you off to the rest of the group. For starters, sweet pea can stop making fun of her for having no love life. Secondly, she finally gets to introduce her man to her family, including the robotic ones.

Koleda suspected that something happened when Grace started paying more attention to the fellow living organisms around her. But she never would’ve expected that her big sis would finally stop being single as all hell! Either way, shes happy for you two and hopes for the best.

Anton was quite shocked that Grace even got a boyfriend; even his bro was shocked! She practically glues herself to her machines, so for you to not only catch, but hold her attention? You’ve earned the title “Epic Bro” from Anton.

Ben doesn’t like to pry too much into Grace’s life since she’s grown and smart enough to make her own judgements, so he trusts that you must be a good boyfriend for her. But best believe you’ll wake up the grizzly bear if you ever hurt her.

- Fin

[springwitch26]

green like her eyes (part 1) (melissa schemmenti x fem!reader)

part 2

summary: you and melissa enjoy smoking weed together to blow off steam from work. this time, things get really steamy.

warnings: sexual content (18+), recreational marijuana use, some emotional/romantic story elements (fluff? more like intense mutual pining), trippy scenes and a general dark aura at times but it's cute

notes: i'm back! consume drugs responsibly, folks. this story is different from my usual content and loosely based on an ex-situationship lol. part 1 sets up the relationship between mel and reader, and part 2 (hopefully coming in the next few days) will feature some more sexual tension and smut. comments and feedback appreciated as always 💚

melissa never would have guessed that you were as young as you were when she met you. unlike other teachers your age, you had a natural air of maturity about you. you were confident but not cocky, passionate (but not annoyingly so, like janine), and smart but not smug about it. in a word, you were cool. and melissa was hooked. with the natural chemistry between the two of you, you became fast friends.

you never meant for melissa to find out about your extracurricular interest in marijuana, but it just slipped out one day. you were too comfortable around her to hold anything back.

"god, what a week it's been," you mused, sitting on her desk as you watched her pack up for the weekend. "i just need to curl up on my couch, put on some netflix, and maybe smoke..."

"smoke what?" she asked reflexively, and you knew she was a keeper.

in the conversation that followed, you and melissa made plans to smoke together that night. what started as a fun experiment soon became routine stress relief. you'd go over to melissa's house every friday night and make full use of the weed from one of her many 'guys'. because melissa cared about your safety, she never let you drive home. you'd just have to sleep over. and since she wouldn't let you sleep on the couch—'the last thing ya need at your age is back pain!'—you would just have to sleep in her bed. with her.

with the introduction of this shared interest, your relationship with melissa became much more intimate. for starters, melissa's touches were always bolder on friday nights. while she wasn't shy about touching you sober—drifting her hand along your lower back as she brushed past you, rubbing your shoulders when you looked stressed in the breakroom—the touches were different after a joint or two. hungrier.

where you were a giggly and whimsical stoner, melissa was definitely a touchy one. you two would sit on her couch, practically on top of each other while you watched movies or played video games. you'd talk animatedly about whatever was happening on the tv; she'd watch your face and trace featherlight patterns on your thighs. and your belly. and maybe also the swell of your ass, when she thought she could get away with it.

she always could.

...

after the success of ava fest, the two of you were on top of the world. tonight's would be the best sleepover yet.

"we got lots to celebrate, sweet pea," melissa had covertly whispered in your ear as people filed out of the gym. you knew what she meant and your face warmed, causing you to look away bashfully. melissa thought you were the cutest thing.

when you let yourself in the front door that night, you were met with the mesmerizing sight of melissa rolling a joint on her kitchen counter. she smirked as you faltered in the doorway, eyes lingering on her working fingers. she rubbed the flower between her fingertips, and your mind betrayed you with a filthy image.

"y/n? you comin' in?" melissa's amused voice brought you out of your trance and you kicked your boots off, closing the door behind you. melissa didn't miss the way your skirt lifted and swirled with your movements.

"looking good, chef schemmenti," you gestured between melissa and the joint-in-progress. at this she smiled, trying not to stare at your breasts and legs as you moved closer in that damn outfit.

you leaned against the counter across from her, making sure to push your tits forward while doing so. you winked at melissa, whose cheeks had turned a shade pinker, and motioned for her to continue rolling up.

"thanks, hon. this stuff's supposed to be top-shelf. gelato, i think they said," melissa's south philly accent was clear as she spoke.

you smiled in appreciation. melissa knew you liked to research what you smoked before you got high on it. you picked up your phone to look up the strain, but then you saw melissa bring the paper up to her lips.

her tongue darted out and drew a line across the paper, allowing melissa to seal the joint. she held eye contact with you the entire time, and you swore she could read your mind. it was like she knew you were thinking about her tongue sweeping through your folds and circling your bundle.

you knew it was wrong; it had to be. she was your coworker, and so much older with more experience in every aspect of life. but that was exactly what attracted you to her.

"whaddaya say? wanna light this one up?" melissa held the joint up to your line of sight, an amused glint in her eyes.

...

minutes later you were standing on her balcony, huddled together to keep the wind from putting out the flame. melissa took the first hit, blowing an impressive cloud of smoke from her full lips and into the sky. you felt dizzy watching the way her lips curled into an 'o' around the smoke.

when she passed the joint to you, you were determined to prove yourself. you took a long inhale, and in seconds you were coughing furiously. melissa chuckled under her breath, but reached out to rub your back. her touch felt electric.

"you okay, hon? i would call an ambulance, but this community doesn't need to know what ms. schemmenti and ms. y/l/n do behind closed doors," she joked, drawing circles on your back.

"yeah, i'm alright," you rasped out, brushing tears from your eyes. "my lungs just need a break." melissa paused a moment at that, looking deep in thought.

"do you trust me?" she finally asked after a prolonged silence. you nodded firmly, staring deep into her probing eyes. they were as green as the trees in her backyard.

melissa took another hit of the joint and leaned in, and before you knew it her mouth was on yours. her tongue swiped along your bottom lip, and your lips parted to welcome her in. she blew a steady stream of smoke into your mouth, and you accepted it greedily.

"there. feel better?" melissa whispered as she pulled away from you. her pupils were blown, and you felt high on the look she gave you alone. you both grinned.

the rest of the session went that way. melissa would take sizable hits of the joint, then shotgun the smoke into your mouth for you. you didn't touch the joint for the rest of the night; if you wanted a direct hit, melissa would hold it up to your lips while her other arm rested on your waist.

melissa was right about the weed being high-quality. you felt like you were floating in her arms as she held you by the waist—keeping you upright in your disoriented state. as she finished off the last of the joint, you looked out at the woods behind melissa's house. the trees seemed closer to you now, and you felt like reaching out and touching the branches as they danced in the wind.

"honey?" melissa's soft voice echoed in your head and you turned to face her. her eyes seemed to swirl and sparkle like emerald pools. but there was also a dark edge to them, reminding you of the beckoning woods.

"let's go for a walk."

...

though it wasn't your typical pastime, you quite liked walking while high. your legs moved on autopilot, and you could hardly feel them carrying you across the dark earth. there was a walking path through the woods behind melissa's house. you strolled side-by-side with the older woman, leaning on her for support when your balance failed you.

"mel, look!" you grabbed her hand and stopped on the path, your other hand pointing up to the sky. "it's a full moon! pretty, right?"

"beautiful..." melissa responded, not at all looking at the moon. her gaze was fixed on your face, which seemed to glow under the moonlight. when her finger stroked the back of your hand absently, you shivered and looked back at her. the expression on her face was soft, even peaceful. with her mouth forming a half-smile and her eyes slightly unfocused, it seemed like she had finally dropped her guard. realizing she had been caught staring, melissa quickly pivoted.

"i always liked the sun better, though," she said as you both resumed walking. the moon's shine weakened then, as if obscured by a cloud. melissa stole a glance at you, noticing how your hair looked a shade darker in the dimmer light. she wanted to stroke it, hold it up to all different colors of light and watch its hues and highlights change.

"huh. why?" you wondered aloud. melissa considered your question a while before answering.

"because you can't run from it," melissa said plainly. "i never liked hidin' in the shadows. you can do that at night. but then the sun comes up, and it's bright and warm, and you can't stay down. you gotta wake up and be somebody."

you heard her words in every corner of your head, her deep voice flowing through you. maybe you were high, but there seemed to be a strong force—almost like gravity—pulling you towards melissa. not just physically, but mentally. you wanted to tell her how smart she was, how charming and powerful and fucking sexy. you wanted to tell her that she was the sun burning brightly at the center of your world.

unfortunately, in your hazy headspace, you couldn't find the words to express all this to her. but you sure tried.

"and the sun is hot and fiery, like you," you almost whispered the last two words, but melissa caught them. she brushed off the compliment with a low laugh and a squeeze of your hand, still clasped in hers.

"sure, hon," she murmured. then you started to feel the stirrings of a rainstorm. cold droplets of water kissed your head and ran down your torso, and you looked to melissa for guidance. by now, you two were pretty far from melissa's house; you'd need to head back soon to avoid getting soaked.

melissa gave you a nod and you both began to run back towards the house, the wind howling in your ears and water beating steadily on your joined hands.

to be continued...

[inkdrinkerworld]

Have you seen how I met your mother?

If not look up the olive scene with lily and Marshall that's how I picture James and sirius explaining dealer remus and autistic reader to their dates/friends at a party

Idk why, but I imagine dealer!remus and reader dont look like they should be a couple at first glance, and James and sirius look like conspiracy theorists telling people that they're the superior couple

aesthetically you and remus confuse people.

you’re all bright colours and whimsical outfits and he’s more muted and practical.

sirius and james however, think you both fit like two peas in a pod. and they’d do whatever it takes to convince others of it too.

even random strangers.

which is what they’re doing now. you’re all out at a pub, a typical friday night when sirius decides listening to queen in the apartment is not enough- he needs to, ‘feel the music in his belly.’

you’re in a long, mauve skirt and a pink top to match, while remus is still in his work slacks and a new t-shirt, that’s plain white.

“you’re dating?” one of the bartenders ask, full of surprise when remus passes you your drink and stamps a kiss to your mouth.

“don’t they look sweet?” james maybe had one mimosa too many.

“i’d have never suspected,” remus cringes, already knowing what’s to come.

you giggle into your drink when sirius gasps.

“mate, they’re made for each other!” he goes off listing how you’re like sun to remus’ cloudy days ‘sometimes, rem it needs to be said,’ he adds that part in case remus feels offended.

he hasn’t the heart to.

james pitches in on how, “remus, he’s practical, kinda stoic and smart and so is she! they both like the same things, which is hard to tell by first glance but they’re practically cut from one body.”

the bartender is confused by james’ choice of metaphor, but you and remus know what he means.

you’d explained to him, in one of your many many breakdowns of aspects of greek mythology that it was postured that zeus had cut humans in half because they had two faces, and two pairs of limbs, and that’s where people got the idea of soulmates.

he turns to you after he says it and you give him an encouraging smile which makes his dimple pop out- happy to have used the information you shared correctly.

“i don’t know why they have to do it every time,” remus mumbles, hands around your midsection as he stands behind your seat.

“they’re having fun.” you shrug and james and sirius really are, it’s when they start stopping random persons to involve them in the conversation that you’re going to have to worry.

[bloodwrittenballad]

Bobby’s Got It Goin’ On | Bob Floyd x Reader

Summary: When Jake takes it too far, you step in

Warnings: Smut, oral (reader receiving, bc in my mind, bob is a pussy eating king!) fingering, consensual groping, blowjob in a car (0/10, do not recommend doing this) protected sex because!!! it’s a must!!! swearing, lil tad bit of angst, sexism? Hangman being, well, himself. Also, I suck at titles and summaries 🙃 18+ ONLY, MINORS DO NOT INTERACT, YOU WILL BE BLOCKED. And please, let me know what you thought! Reblogs and comments are so very appreciated and help us fic writers <3 Xoxo, Parker

If there was one thing you knew for certain about Jake Seresin, it was that he had a loud fuckin mouth. And quite the talent at opening it at the wrong fuckin times. Like now, for instance. You and the crew were all at The Hard Deck, hanging out and celebrating getting through another long work week. Things were going well, you found yourself perched next to Bob, as the two of you made easy conversation.

You liked Bob, a lot. How could you not? He was sweet, smart, handsome as ever loving hell… Only issue, was he probably didn’t feel even the slightest bit same for you. That was okay though! Because in the end, you’d rather have a friendship with him than ruin it by telling him how you felt only to be rejected.

It was better this way, regardless of how bad it hurt or how much pestering you’d get from the other squadron members to just confess you feelings.

Pushing back the slightly depressing thoughts, you continued your focus on Bob, who was getting rather animated as he told you a stories from his childhood and teen years. Head thrown back in laughter, you couldn’t help but to gently slap his arm, a habit you had developed over the years and could never quite shake. Most people would have found it annoying, but not Bob. Never him. He found it endearing, plus… he couldn’t deny that the skin to skin contact was nice. You were so soft and warm, so, so… perfect.

Bob continued to blush while you giggled, “wow, Bobby, I never would’ve taken you for such a bad boy!” If his cheeks weren’t already as red as a stop sign, they certainly were now. “I wasn’t! Really! Just a… ya know, had a bit of teen angst, I guess.” Bob muttered, not being able to handle how goddamn beautiful that smile of yours was. “Well, teen angst aside, I think some trouble looks good on you. Kinda rouged. Chicks dig that, ya know.” You spoke with a soft smile, one that didn’t quite reach your eyes as you thought of him with any other woman than you.

Bob wore his usual lopsided smile as you said that, his skin feeling even warmer now. Jesus, you were so perfect. This moment was so perfect. Until it wasn’t.

Hangman, being the ever present thorn in your side, just had to go and ruin it. “Y’all wanna know what else chicks dig?” He spoke with a shit-eating grin as he plopped down beside you, making himself more than comfortable but not at all welcome. “Not really,” you huffed out through gritted teeth. A devilish smirk blossomed even wider on the blonds face, “chicks dig a man who’s tough and confident, unafraid to take charge and get shit done. Like me, sweet pea.” Jake ended with a wink, something that shouldn’t have pissed you off so much. But it did. He always managed to get under your skin in a way no one else could. He just had that effect on people. Obnoxious.

“Well, maybe some women aren’t into that,” you shot back. “Maybe some of us like a quiet, down to earth, gentleman who doesn’t boast about how supposedly great he is.” Jake barked out a laugh, his eyebrows shooting high up and almost into his hairline. “Damn, girl.” Jake whistled, “ya got fire in you, f’sure. Gotta find the right to manage that. Some prissy, sissy of a man ain’t gonna be able to tame it. Like Bob!” Said person looked up at you sheepishly for the first time since Hangman had crashed your little party. “Bobby here wouldn’t know what t’do with all that you got goin’ on, he uh, he just ain’t built for it.” Okay, so now you weren’t just pissed. You were fucking livid.

“And what the fuck do you know about anything, Bagman? Huh? What’re your qualifications to be making such claims? In fact, when’s the last time any of this macho bullshit actually worked on a woman? Cause ya wanna know what I think? I think you’re just an insecure little boy who acts like he’s gods fuckin’ gift to this world, like he’s got it all goin’ on for him. But you don’t! You can sure as hell act like it, but we all know you don’t. You wanna know who does, though? Bob. Yeah, that’s right. Bobby’s got it goin’ on!” By this point, you had stood up from your seated position so you could feel like you had a bit more of an upper ground, as you glared down at Jake.

Bob, who still hadn’t uttered a peep since Hangman’s interruption, saw how close you were to hitting the man and gently decided it was time to divert from the situation and led you outside. His hand, strong but gentle on the small of your back, guided you throughout The Hard Deck until you both found yourselves under the pale moonlight. “God!” you groaned angrily. “I mean, who the hell does he think he is? Such a prick! Like, I get it, you haven’t been laid in a while but fuck don’t take it out on people who don’t deserve it! It’s just so, so, so fucking frustrating. Aren’t you frustrated? I’m frustrated! No, I’m pissed! Oooh, I’m so pissed. I could go in there right now and punch him right in his stupid f-,” You stopped short in your rant, the pacing you started somewhere along the line coming to a halt.

Bob was just standing there, head bowed, not saying a word. “Bobby?” You whispered gently, mentally cursing yourself for your tangent now when you should’ve been making sure he was okay. Opening your mouth to speak again, Bob cut you off. “Did… did you meant it? W-what you said. I-in there? Or was that just to get Hangman off my back?” The shake in his voice made your heart crack in two, but what truly broke it was the look on his face. So unsure, so pained, so scared that it was all just a big fat lie.

“Bobby, I-” you started, but was once again cut off. “It’s fine, I-I uh, I get it. I do. No hard feelings. But, um, thanks for taking care of Hangman.” Bob went to pass out, presumably to his car so he could get the hell out of there and save himself any further embarrassment for tonight. Before he could make it far, you grabbed his arm, tugging him back towards you and pushing your lips to his. Bob left out a soft whine, immediately melting into the feeling of you.

The kiss was soft, warm, delicate and messy all at once. It was everything you ever dreamed of, it just sucked that the events of tonight were what led up to it. Pulling away, your hands went up to cup his face, locking eyes with his in the compassionate embrace. “I meant every single word, Robby. All that, and so much more.” Bob broke out in a smile, with you following not far behind, before he surged forward and connected your lips once more. This time in a much more needy and demanding kiss, with his and your hands roaming each others bodies.

A soft moan left your lips in a tiny squeak, Bob pulling away with a satisfied grin. “Maybe we should take this somewhere a little more private? Don’t really feel like sharing those noises with anyone else.” You gasped and gently hit his arm, like how you had earlier. “Bobby! You dirty dog! I cant believe you… but yes. Yes. Let’s go, now. Please.” Bob couldn’t help to laugh at the display of utter desperation from you, as he led you to his car. The second you were inside, a full makeout session ensued. You ended up on his lap, albeit with some struggle because his car was tiny, but you made do. Grinding on his growing bulge, you moaned widely, his tongue darting into your mouth. “Fuck, Bobby, take me home. Want you to take me home and fuck me so bad. Will you, please?” You whined and begged, and what kind of man would he be to leave you so needy like this.

After you were safe and secure in the passenger seat, Bob wasted no time on stepping on the gas as he made his way back to his rental. After the mission, many, if not most, of the original crew got a transfer. Yourself included, though unlike Bob, you’re place wasn’t as nice. That didn’t matter though, it was all small details in the end. Because now you not only had the best of friends, but you finally got the guy. And said guy was taking you home to fuck you.

The drive wasn’t long, but damn, did it make you needier. You weren’t sly in the slightest, as you snuck your hand slowly up Bobs thigh, climbing higher and higher, stopping just below where you so desperately wanted to touch. Bob gave you a look, eyebrow quirked, lips in a smirk. “This okay?” you whispered, just to be sure. “More than okay, darling.” He confirmed, and that was more than enough for you to launch your attack. Unbuttoning his pants, you make quick work of pushing down his boxers as far as they would go before his hard and ready cock popped out. Your mouth went agap at the sight, suddenly feeling drool looking at the edges of you lips as you took in the length and size of him. He was huge! “Holy shit, Bobby, you really do got it goin’ on.” And with that, you took him into your mouth.

He couldn’t reach all the way in, so you made due by streaking the rest of him. Occasionally groping his balls, which earned the heavenly sound of his moans. You continued bobbing your head up and down, savoring the taste of him and the way he swore. “F-fuck! Yeah, yeah, just like that. Taking it so well, j-just like a good girl.” You moaned at the praise, feeling yourself getting wetter by the second. Then, before you knew it, the car came to an abrupt stop and so did the blowjob, as Bob gently grabbed your cheeks and lifted your head. “As much as I’d love to come in your throat, sweet thing, I’d much rather continue this inside. Where I can really treat you good,” he said with a wink. Oh, god, he was so fucking hot.

The two of you managed to stumble inside, hands never leaving each others bodies as you nipped and sucked at any possible exposed skin, groping and grinding and messy as he led you to his bed and practically tossed you on to it. By the time you made it to his bedroom, both of you were almost fully nude, aside from the underwear you wore. Which were fully soaked now, by the way. And damn, did Bob enjoy the sit. Sinking down to his knees on the floor, Bob grabbed your legs and scooted you forward so your ass hung over the bed almost completely. “Fuck, s’wet f’me,” he mumbled against the skin of your thighs, your ankles now hanging over his shoulders.

He worked his way up, pressing kisses to the soft skin, loving the way you moaned and begged for me. “You want my mouth or my fingers, darling?” He asked, and the smirk he wore when you screamed, “both!” only widened. “If it’s both you want, baby, then it’s both you’ll get.” And with that, your panties were gone in a flash as he tore them off and dove right in. “FUCK!” you moaned loudly, your hands frantically clutching the bedsheets. “Yes, yes, yes! Oh, right there! Fuck yes!” He’d barely begun, still only using his tongue, as he lapped at you like a man starved. It was heavenly, the warmth of his tongue and the speed at which it tortured you with bliss.

Minutes, maybe even hours, fuck who knows how long went by with him in between your thighs, just licking and sucking and slurping at what you had to offer before he asked if you wanted his fingers yet. Of course you had screamed yes again, but it was all garbled and mumbled from the pleasure you felt. Bob chucked between you, the vibration a heavenly feeling on your clit. The added sensation of not just one, but two fingers prodding at your sensitive hole had your mind swimming in pure ecstasy. You knew you were close, and his fingers speeding in and out of you mixed with his tongue on your clit only brought on that freeing feeling. Bob must’ve felt the way you clenched around him, the way your thighs shook, and masterfully continued his work. Drilling his fingers inside of you and bringing your clit to rest in between his puckered lips had you exploding into a dazzling glow of orgasm you’ve never felt before.

Bob stayed between your thighs, fingers slowing down as he coaxed you through your orgasm. Once he knew you were good, he gently pulled his fingers out and tapped your thigh in a way of telling you “good job”. Climbing back onto the bed, he smiled down at your fucked out figure. The way your eyes were glazed over, your naked chest rising and falling. It was a beautiful sight to behold, and he was so lucky he got to be the one to do it. You smiled back at him, before slowly getting up so you sat on your knees with him on the bed, hands stroking up and down his arms. “As good as that was, and trust me, it was really good, I want you to fuck me for real now.”

Bob didn’t need to be told again, he bolted towards his bedside table, almost ripping the drawer out as he searched inside the messy compartment. “Aha!” He said victoriously, holding up a condom. You smiled softly at the man, who despite being a literal sex god a minute ago, still had the capability to be the goofy dork you’ve had feelings for forever now.

“You ready?” he asked earnestly once he got the condom on, you’ve never been more ready for anything in your life. “Just hurry up and fuck me, Floyd.” you said breathlessly, and that was more than enough for him to pounce on you like his life depended on it. His lips met yours in a flurry once more that night, the taste of you not gone from his mouth as he all but attacked yours. The tip of his cock met your folds in a blissful roll of his hips, making you gasp. Needing him inside you desperately, you grabbed his cock gently and helped him slowly guide it inside you, breathing out a sigh of relief once he filled you to the fullest. On your back, you laid there, allowing yourself to get used to the feeling of him. Bob, ever the patient man, didn’t move an inch until you gave him the go ahead.

Once the coast was clear, he was like a beast, snapping his hips at an unstoppable force. It felt so good, like all your nerves were set ablaze in the best way. Your ankles wrapped around his waist, your hands scratching up and down his back. The way he was bent over you gave him perfect access to your tits, to which he took full advantage and brought one of your nipples to his mouth. The feeling had you clenching around him like a viper, his hot tongue dancing around the sensitive skin of your breast brought you close to the edge again. His thrusts were hard and wild, but calculated, hitting the perfect spot every single time. You were both moaning like animals, swears and praises and the scent of sex filling the air as you fucked each other into the night. “Fuck, Bobby, m’so close. Wanna come with you, wanna come with you so bad.” you whined out, and Bob can’t think of a time in his life where he’s heard or experienced anything sexier.

“I’m almost there, my girl, fuck, so close. Just hold on f’me like a good girl, can ya do that? Can you wait like the good girl I know you are?” His voice was so gruff, deep and full of ecstasy. “Yeah,” you managed out in a high pitched whimper, something that made Bob’s cock twitch from inside of you. With a few more deep strokes inside you, he was ready, and he knew you were too. “Let go, baby. Come with me, fuck! You better come with me, baby, know you can.”

And so you did. And it was glorious. Earth shattering, mind blowing, you name it. Your skin was hot and sweaty, and you shook like a goddamn earthquake as you came, Bob not far behind as he experienced his own orgasm. Moaning wildly, he collapsed beside you the second he pulled out. The two of you lay there, breathing heavily, minds reeling from the most amazing and intense and powerful sex both of you have ever had in your entire lives. Once the two of you caught your breaths and energy enough to move, Bob cleaned the two of you up before pulling you into his arms. You laid there, head on his chest, looking up at him in pure fascination and wonder.

Yeah, Bobby’s definitely got it goin’ on for sure.

And Hangman can fuckin’ suck it!

[elliesmainhoe]

RECKLESS

Ellie Williams x fem!reader

Summary: While working, Joel comes in and tells you that your girlfriend, Ellie, was injured on patrol.

Contents: Slight misogyny, injury, swearing, angst, fluff, unconsciousness, playful banter.

Everyone in Jackson had a role, a purpose. Naturally Ellie was assigned to patrol and scavenge. Ellies strength was admirable, she was smart in combat, strong and immune, it was obvious why Maria put her on patrol. But you hated it.

You were never a natural fighter, more soft in nature. You were assigned as a glorified babysitter, taking care of toddlers during the day while their parents went off on errands and jobs. So you knew very little on combat.

Ellie loved that about you, your kind sweet and carefree nature, you seemed so fragile she had this urge to protect you ever since she first saw you chasing down a run away five year old, smiling and laughing as mud and snow splattered on your clothes.

You loved the kids, they loved you back. The small day care building always filled with childish babbles and bubbly giggles. You loved your job but you hated Ellie's. The idea of your girlfriend running from clickers. Shooting and climbing in abandoned building, death lurking round every corner.

You knew she was immune, her immunity calmed your nerves a ton. But immunity didn't protect her from people. Due to your kind demeanor people often assumed you were gullible and timid so they tried to take advantage of that. You couldn't count the amount of times you'd clutched your hidden pocket knife when someone approached you.

People in fucked up situations become morally grey and inhumane. Willing to do anything to achieve they're end goal. And it was horrifying, you trusted Ellie with your life, but you didn't trust others.

"Miss Y/NNN" a small squeaky voice pulled you from your chance. A small brunette girl looked up at you, doe eyes filled with tears, puffy cheeks and a snotty nose.

"Oh, What's wrong Nora? Why you crying huh?" You say bending your knees and crouching to her eye level.

"Miles won't share his toys cars with me-me. He says- He says I'm a girl so I can't play with cars" her words were rushed, small sobs and sharp intakes of breath between words. "Oh I'm sorry sweet pea, I'll go talk to him, why don't you go colour for a minute and I'll get you a car, yeah?" She sniffed, wiping her snotty nose with the sleeve of her cardigan and waddling towards the colouring table. Sighing softly you turn towards the group of boys pushing small cars on wooden tracks around on the floor.

"Hey guys, you've made Nora quite upset, can you tell me why you did that" you spoke softly, sitting down next to the group of 4 year old boys.

"because she's a girl. And these are our toys..." He mutters moving the toy car and bashing it into his friends.

Thinking on how to approach this you start talking. "In Jackson, everyone shares, the other day I was food shopping and your mother shared some of her vegetables with me. You see if you want to be a big boy you have to learn to share sweetheart. Nora might be a girl but she can still like cars."

He looks at you "So if I go give Nora a car, I'm a big boy?" He questioned, looking comically puzzled. "Yeah that would be really nice of you honey." You say an encouraging smile painting your face as he begins to wonder towards the brunette girl, two toy cars in his hands.

"Y/N." A deep voice sounded from behind you. Quickly getting up and turn around "Joel." You said to the man whose frame took up the majority of the doorway. "What's up?, usually you don't come visit me during work." You added, a smile graced your face at the welcome visit from the man.

"Uh, Ellie came back from patrol and she's not looking too good. She was shot with an arrow in her shoulder, it wasn't bad by itself but it sent her falling forwards and she hit her head, she's out cold." He explained to you, the worry written on his features soon matching yours. You felt your heart drop, a sense of dread overcame you.

"Oh shi-" you cut yourself off looking at the distracted 2-6 year olds, "shoot." You finish "where is she?" "She's in my spare room, I patched her up she'll have a headache when she wakes up and have to rehabilitate her shoulder for a few weeks, thankfully." He answered.

" my shift ends in five, Gia should be here for her shift soon, you mind staying here till she shows up?" He sends a nod your way and you immediately grab your jacket and bag leaving the middle aged man with the group of fifteen toddlers. If you weren't so worried about your girlfriend, you would've laughed at the situation. Joel miller with a crowd of children, completely hopeless. Poor man.

Your feet hurried as the sight of Joel's house came into view. Hurrying up the porch steps, swinging the door open, quickly throwing your shoes off, dumping your backpack on the ground and rushing upstairs.

Opening the spare rooms door, your breath caught in your throat as the sight of your unconscious girlfriend laying on the double bed, bandages rapped around her shoulder, a patch on her head, covering what you can imagine Is a large bruise. You moved forwards, perching on the mattress looking down at Ellie.

Her face looked calm and serene, her beautiful brown hair falling Infront of her face, her soft lips had a small split in it. You kissed her cheek, tucking her hair behind her ears. You looked around the room, your eyes focusing on the rocking chair pushed into the bay window. Getting up and pushing the chair closer to her sleeping form.

You say on the chairs floral cushion, reaching forward and grabbing her hands. Absentmindedly your fingers began to trace the veins and scars on her hands.

"hey.. HEY." Your body jolted up abruptly, being startled awake by a husky voice. "Ellie..." Tears welled in your eyes as you stood up and cradles Ellie's face.

"you are such an idiot, so so reckless and stupid..." You mutter gazing into her eyes, you saw her lips quirk up in amusement. "Don't smile, you're in a huge amount of trouble, missy" you say sternly, raising an eyebrow at her when she rolls her eyes playfully in retaliation.

"sorry, miss Y/n" she mumbled pouting out her bottom lip, mimicking the kids you work with.

"Oh shut up" you reply, you lean down, gently pulling yourself closer, and tenderly push your lips against hers. A sigh leaves both of your mouths, relief evident in both the softness of the kiss and in the happiness of Ellie being okay.

She's okay, she's alive. Of course she's alive, your girl is so strong, she'd never leave you.

Ellie breaks the kiss murmuring a soft "c'mere" and patting the empty spot next to her on the bed. You scooch yourself over to her, resting your head on her uninjured shoulder and nuzzling into the crook of her neck. Her hand reaches out and cradles the back of your head, dragging her hands through it, softly combing and detangling.

"I'm alright beautiful, I'm all okay. I've been through too much shit to let an arrow fuck me over. And I could never leave my pretty girl alone, you're stuck with me sweetheart, you're never getting rid of me, for as long as I can help it.

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I like this one more than my last one. I hope you enjoyed this mini-fic. If all goes to plan then I should be uploading some head canons later too.

NOT PROOFREAD

[hotvinimon]

Reward

Akaashi Keiji x reader

A/N : Akaashi is oblivious. Reader wants more. Images are not mine. Credits to the owner. Likes, Comments and re-blogs are appreciated. Please don't steal my work. Enjoy ;) Warnings - English is my second language.

Master List

Akaashi was really smart, ended up being your last resort as a tutor, thanks to your dismal relationship with physics.

You found yourself in the library, with your oh-so-beloved boyfriend as your tutor. Instead of cracking down on physics, you were busy examining every angle of him while a pencil hung precariously between your nose and upper lip.

Suddenly, a booming call of your name rudely jolted you from your daydreams, and there was Akaashi, giving you a worried look.

"Sweetheart, are you okay? Did you even hear what I said?"

You mumbled, "Y-Yeah, yeah," in a feeble attempt to pretend like you were paying attention.

"Teaching you physics is like trying to stop Bokuto from playing volleyball." Akaashi sighed.

You snapped back, "But that's impossible!"

"Exactly," Akaashi snickered.

It took you a hot minute to catch his drift. "YAAHH!!! That's just mean," you pouted.

Akaashi sighed, "Alright, alright, sweet pea. If you can solve this problem, I'll reward you."

"Really?" You perked up. Now that he finally had your attention on the work, he won't let it go waste.

"Bingo," Akaashi confirmed.

After 17 minutes and 36 seconds (not that you were counting), you proudly showed your completed work to Akaashi.

"Kei, it's done. Where's my reward?" You leaned in closer.

Akaashi smirked. "At least let me check if you did it correctly."

To Akaashi's shock, the solution was spot on. You couldn't resist your triumphant "My reward, Keiji..."

Akaashi chuckled and leaned in a bit. Your cheeks turned as red as a tomato, and you leaned in closer too.

He handed you a candy and said, "Here, a candy for you."

You stared at his hand and then back at his face. "This isn't what I wanted," you declared.

Akaashi looked puzzled. "What do you want, then?"

You stuttered, "Well...um, something more."

It took Akaashi a moment, but then it hit him.

"Oh..."

"Yeah," you blushed.

Akaashi fumbled for another candy and handed it to you.

Maybe he wasn't that smart after all.

V- Chan's Dilly Dally

Hey guys <3 I really hope you would like this. I was gatekeeping this for almost a week. But here it is. Requests are really appreciated. For joining taglist, please let me know in the comments below

B-Bye

💗