#sorry about the rushed background ;P
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toastmaloatsart · 2 years ago
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What are they talking about? omg..
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daisynik7 · 1 year ago
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[M4F] Husband Catches You Listening to Audio P*rn, Teaches You a Lesson [Soft Mdom] [Established Relationship] [Mild Degradation] [Praise] [Overstimulation] [Multiple Orgasms] [Creampie]
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Pairing: husband!Nanami x f!reader
Word Count: ~2.6k
cw: established relationship, p*rn no plot, smut – PIV sex (cowgirl), sex toys, mutual masturbation, fingering, cunnilingus, sex without a condom, creampie, overstimulation, soft dom!Nanami, breeding kink, mild degradation (use of slut and whore), praise, overstimulation, multiple orgasms, pet names (honey, sweetie, sweetheart, princess, baby)
Summary: Nanami comes home early from his business trip and catches you doing something naughty in your bedroom. Author’s Note: Inspired by all the audio porn VAs that I listen to! Special shoutout to @mrsackermannx for raving about AugustInTheWinter with me. If you have not listened to him yet, PLEASE check him out, he’s incredible. Also, I’m clearly very delulu for Nanami currently, considering this is the third piece I’ve written for him within a week, but hey, this is my outlet! So I hope you enjoy! MDNI divider created by @/cafekitsune. Likes, reblogs, and/or comments are always appreciated, thank you for reading!
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Your skin is sweltering against the sheets, sweat damp on your forehead and neck. Thighs are apart, vibrator buzzing on your clit, sleek with lube and arousal. You’re home alone; Nanami doesn’t return until tomorrow morning. Still, the thought of the audio porn playing on speaker makes you shy, so you have both earbuds in, listening to the sultry tones of your favorite voice actor moaning expletives directly into your ear. Such a good girl, oh fuck. You feel so good, sweetheart. Take that cock for me. You are so fucking tight, holy shit. The added sound effects of thwapping and wet squelches in the background immerse you into a state of erotic bliss, gushing for the second time tonight from the sensation of the toy pulsing on your throbbing bud.
“What do we have here?”
You jolt up when you hear your husband’s voice from the doorway, startled to see him standing there, leaning against the frame with a serious look on his face. His spectacles are on, covering his eyes, which you can tell are boring into you in this lewd position. 
Popping your headphones off, you hide the vibrator under the pillow, as if he hasn’t already caught you red-handed. Closing your legs, you bat your eyelashes, feigning an innocent expression. “Honey! What are you doing here?” More heat rushes into your cheeks, scorching hot from your recent orgasm and current embarrassment.  
He steps forward, sitting at the far edge of the bed, avoiding your gaze by staring at the floor, acting disappointed. “I managed to catch an earlier flight. Wanted to surprise you.” Dramatic, he turns to face you, eyes narrowed through his tinted lenses. “It appears that I am the one being surprised.” 
Biting your lip to hold back your laughter, you crawl towards him, naked from the waist down, your panties discarded on the floor near his feet. He’s not actually upset; having been together long enough and in tune with each other’s emotions, you can tell that he isn’t seriously mad at you. This is a role he indulges in occasionally: stoic, strict husband with a mean streak when things don’t go his way. And you know exactly where this will lead to, so naturally, you play along. “I’m sorry, sweetie. I didn’t think you would be coming home tonight. I just thought I’d have a little bit of fun.” You massage his shoulders, nuzzling your face to his nape, giving him a loud smooch. 
He shifts around in the bed, confronting you. “What were you listening to?” There’s legitimate curiosity in his voice, and now genuine guilt builds in your chest upon his question. 
You swallow hard, anxious to admit the truth, too ashamed to lie to him. “Um, I was listening to porn. Audio porn.”
He raises a brow at you, confused. Then, he says, “Let me hear it.”
Reluctantly, you reach for your phone on the nightstand, resuming from where you paused. Wet slaps blare through the speaker, then a man’s voice, moaning, “Ah fuck, let me hear you. Let me hear you moan on my cock. Let me hear you take this cock. Yeah, like that baby, take it just like that.” 
You bury your head in your hands, absolutely mortified as the pornographic dialogue continues. The audio comes to a halt when Nanami stops it, silently tapping at the screen. You’re still hiding in disgrace, squeezing your legs together tightly to conceal the evidence of your supposed sin. The tension is palpable, with neither of you speaking or making any sudden movements. You’re dying to know what he’s thinking, simultaneously terrified of his judgement. 
He clears his throat; you peek through your fingers to catch him loosening his tie around his collar, removing the glasses from his face. He’s blushing, brows tight with contemplation. “Did you come to this?” he asks, almost breathless. 
You lower your hands, fisting them into the sheets beneath you, nodding. Anticipating. 
“Show me,” he demands, eyes at your lap. Too eagerly do you spread your legs, displaying your sopping cunt to him, staring at his lips part slightly, a barely audible growl resounding within his throat. Your uneasiness gradually slips into arousal, aching to be touched, even punished, by your formidable husband. He bows, licking his mouth, inspecting you like prey he’s about to devour. Flicking his eyes to yours, he mutters, “You’re a dirty slut for listening to this filth. Have you no shame?” He kneels before you, unbuttoning his dress shirt, exposing the white tee underneath. Chiseled chest and abs carved into the fabric like fucking marble. 
Losing composure, you blurt out, “No shame, absolutely none. I’m fucking filthy.” Your pussy aches, toes clenched, thrilled. 
“I can’t stand you listening to another man’s voice while you get off. It makes me sick thinking about it. Makes my blood fucking boil.” His tone is menacing in way that titillates every inch of your skin, has you shuddering from the low growl at the end of each sentence. 
“Are you going to punish me?” you goad, saliva collecting on your tongue, heavy with lust.
“I can think of something better.” Reaching for your phone, he navigates through it, finding your voice recorder app. He taps on the big red button, setting it beside you. “From now on, you only come to my voice. Got it?”
You swallow hard, almost chocking on your spit when you respond, “Yes. Yes, baby.”
He grins, a wicked gleam in his eyes as he cups your cheek tenderly. “Good girl.” His thumb traces the outline of your parted lips, your mouth inviting him in. But he doesn’t, leaning back on his wrists, observing you with the obvious bulge protruding from his slacks. “Get that vibrator. Show me how you do it.”
Obeying, you search for it under the pillow, retrieving it to rub the tip up and down your folds, finger on the trigger. “There you go,” he encourages, a cocky smirk on his face, slowly unbuckling the belt around his waist, sliding it from the loops and tossing it aside. “Tease it a little before you turn it on. Make sure it’s exactly where you want it.” 
You tap the toy on your swollen bud, already sensitive from your earlier climax. You meet his gaze, waiting for a signal. He slides out of his pants and briefs, revealing his erection sprung against his belly. Before he does anything else, he grabs your phone and sets it on the bed between you. Palming his length, he grins. “Go ahead.” 
What a fucking menace he can be.
Pushing the button, the vibrator immediately pulsates on you, causing you to twitch from the intense sensation. He watches, fingers wrapped around his shaft, stroking himself, thumb grazing the slit. “Look at you. My gorgeous girl,” he purrs. “My perfect angel with the prettiest pussy. Can’t wait to stretch you open with this cock. Bury myself deep inside you. Fill you up with my cum.”
“Fuck, Kento,” you whimper, pressing the fluttering tip firmer, sweat beginning to bead on your forehead. You’ve always loved his hands; how pristine they are with his knuckles tight on his skin. Large, strong, then rough on the pads of his fingers from hard work and constant use. They’re even prettier in a fist surrounding his cock, wrist jerking hastily, precum glistening at the tip. Your entire focus is on him touching himself while he watches you do the same, the toy’s low hum enhanced when it’s snugly nestled to your clit. 
“You like it when I talk nasty to you, huh?” he huffs, readjusting himself nearer to you. He’s so close, you can practically feel the tip of his cock at your quivering pussy. “Is it better than listening to your ridiculous pornography?”
“Yes, yes, yes,” you whine, jutting your hips out, attempting to close the gap. 
“Unlike them, I can actually touch you,” he muses, his tip teasing your entrance. “I can do whatever I want, whatever you want. They don’t get to fuck this sweet cunt like I get to. They don’t get to taste you the way I do.” 
Suddenly, he grabs the vibrator from your grasp, shutting it off and setting it back under the pillow. He shifts down the bed, positioning his head between your thighs, diving in tongue first onto your puffy clit. Pleasure resonates from your core throughout your limbs, legs shaky and mind hazy as he slobbers all over you, covering your bud in his frothy spit. It’s sloppy, salacious, straight up nasty. After only a few strokes of his tongue, it’s already enough to send you into your third orgasm of the night, more powerful than the first two combined when you were alone. 
You’d be a fool to expect him to let up after coming once with him; still, it shocks you when he doesn’t stop. He latches to you harder, suckling on your sensitive clit until it’s plump between his glossy lips and you’re crying out, “Too much!” overstimulated and spasming above him. Sometimes, when he’s in one of these moods, he forgets his own virility, always so keen on making you orgasm multiple times in one go. Tonight, he forgets that you had already been prepping yourself since earlier. With a gentle kiss, he relents, indulging in his work by running his tongue along your gushing pussy, drinking up your cum. He reaches for his cock, stiff between his stomach and the bedsheets under him. On his knees, he returns to his spot from earlier, stroking his cock with the tip just barely in your entrance. 
You’re absolutely spent, but you yearn for him inside you, desperate to be filled with his load. “Come in me, baby,” you beg, gripping his wrist to pull him closer. “Fuck me.” 
He lets out a disapproving tsk, shaking his head. “Not yet, princess. You have to be patient. We’re just getting started,” he smirks, stroking himself faster. “Are you just so fucking needy for my cum?” You nod erratically, tempted to thrust yourself onto him. 
“Then beg for it,” he orders, sliding his cock the slightest bit further inside you. “Convince me that you deserve it.”
Understanding what he wants, you retrieve your little toy again, rubbing small circles with it on your bud, smearing whatever is left of your orgasm around it. “Please, Kento. Please. I need it. I need it.”
The sight of you like this has him dangling on the very edge, so close to climax. “Turn it on,” he demands. You do, the buzz electrifying all the nerves in your body yet again. You chant his name over and over until he shoots insides you, spurts of opaque cum flooding your pussy. “Yes, yes. Good girl. Take that fucking cum. Take all of it. Fuck.” His voice is hushed, breathy and trembling from the high. 
You stop the vibrator, tossing it to the floor carelessly. Nanami crawls next to you, cradling you in his arms. With a kiss to your forehead, he whispers, “Are you okay?” 
You smile, turning to face him, nuzzling his chest. “Of course.”
He caresses your face, trailing down your body to rest his hand at your waist. He glances at your phone beside you. “We’re still recording, you know.”
You giggle. “And…?”
He kisses you softly, tongue flitting past your lips, guiding you flat on your back, spreading your legs apart. “I’m not done with you yet.” His hand glides to your loins, toying with your swollen clit before teasing your entrance, brimming with his creampie. “Can you still take it, sweetheart?”
You nod, breath hitching, cuddling closer to him. Smiling sweetly at you, he eases a finger in, cum overflowing your pussy and trickling out from your slit. He slides in another easily, stretching you open, a whine escaping you. His mouth is hot on your ear. “You love this, don’t you? Me finger fucking my cum deeper inside you. Taking it like an obedient whore.” He picks up the pace, your cunt clenching his digits. “I’m going to get you pregnant tonight. Breed you, make you mine. You want that, sweetie?” His fingers writhe inside you, hitting that sweet spot repeatedly until you’re tight around him, ready for another orgasm. At this point, you’ve stopped keeping count, lost in a sex-fueled craze instigated by your husband. 
“Yes, Kento. Give it to me. I want it. I want it so bad.” You notice he’s hard again, his erection stiffening against your leg. Reaching for him, you rub your hand on his length, feeling it twitch from your touch.
“Fuck,” he groans, pulling out from you. He sits up, back to the headboard, beckoning. “Get on my lap. Hurry,” he urges, hoisting you towards him. You straddle him, guiding his cock to your entrance. “Sink down on it. There we go,” he instructs, eyes wide, desperation etched in his tone. He needs this just as much as you do, and it drives you wild. You follow his command, lowering yourself onto him, his dick sliding in smoothly, bottoming out. “That’s my good girl. Fuck. You’re so good to me. So fucking good to me.”
You start riding him the way he likes, your ass slapping loudly on his thighs. He’s moaning endlessly, throwing in the occasional fuck and pet name as he grips your hips, bouncing you on his cock. You wrap your arms around his neck to keep steady, holding him tightly. “Want your cum,” you manage to utter, enraptured in the scorching pleasure he surrounds you in. 
He's fucking up into you, feet planted at the end of the bed. The mattress creaks with every thrust of his cock. In a huffy breath, he says, “Milk it out of me, honey. Milk me fucking dry. You can do it sweetheart; I know you can.” The praise encourages you to ride him faster, rougher, your bodies in tandem, springing on the bed, moaning into each other’s mouth with a passionate kiss. 
Soon, he pulsates inside you, stuffing you even fuller with his cum. You climax once more, gripping his cock with your fluttering pussy. He cradles you in a cozy embrace, catching his breath, nuzzling his nose to your chest. You giggle, running you fingers through his hair, smooching the top of his head. “You okay?” you ask, wiping the perspiration from his forehead.
He nods, exhaling deeply. “Just let me hold you. Need to calm down.”
You laugh, amused by his current state of post-coital euphoria. Fetching the phone teetering precariously at the edge of the bed now, you tap on the red button to stop the recording. Seeing this, he mentions, “You know I don’t actually mind you listening to that kind of stuff, right?” 
You smile, noticing the guilt in his voice, massaging his back. “I know, honey. I know you don’t.”
He squeezes you, taking a deep breath. “Okay, good. Just want to make that clear.”
You cup his cheek, thumb caressing the stress lines along his face, gradually relaxing to your touch. “If it makes you feel any better, I’d much rather listen to this than some stranger on the Internet.”
Chuckling, he replies. “Maybe it makes me feel a little bit better.” He snuggles closer to you, hugging you tight, reluctant to let you go. Eventually, the two of you slip beneath the covers, getting comfortable with Nanami spooning you from behind.  
You glance at the screen, showing the several minute long recording and the play button adjacent to it, ready to be tapped. “So,” you start, craning your neck to smirk at him. “Should we give it a listen?”
He returns your grin, shifting beside you, cock growing hard between your ass cheeks. “Absolutely.”
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joannasprose · 2 months ago
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ellie williams x nervous!reader
content warning: slight insecurity, a nervous girl who doesn’t know what to do with herself, fluff, comfort (as always), vague angst, proofread this time! (proofread but not edited, sorry I’m lazy!)
note: I found this in my drafts, I didn’t even know I made something like this and decided to post it :) also you can thank my mind (in good ways and bad), because I have another Ellie post that will be ready soon 👀 trying so badly not to post back to back though 💜 (this one is a little rushed and not as good as my others because I completely forgot what it was about 🫡)
| ellie can tell that there’s something up with you. when you finally tell her, she can’t help but be slightly amused.
———
ellie’s hand has yet to leave the small of your back. as the two of you walk through the unfamiliar bar, you cling onto her a little more tightly.
she watches you—unbeknownst to you—as your brows furrow, as you begin to chew the flesh of your cheek. “you okay,” she questions, now leading you over to what you assumed to be the bathroom, closing the door and locking it behind you.
her hand moves slowly to the side of your waist, pulling you closely towards her, holding you gently. you smile, a nervous one as your arms nervously wrap around the sides of her shoulders and loop around her. “yeah. i’m okay, i’m just…” but you’ve stopped yourself.
it had now been four months since both you and ellie had started dating. even then, before she knew of your feelings—her actions had never failed to make you nervous. sure, she had her moments where she would stumble over her words while a rosy hue coated her cheeks. but the moment she had figured you out, the teasing became relentless. not that you minded it, though.
“I’m fine. It’s fine.” you say, eyes once leaving every inch of her figure and darting to the tiled floors, the decorative picture frames—anything but her.
“Y/N,” ellie says, the softness of her eyes never leaving as she spoke, “tell me what’s on your mind. you know I won’t judge.” her hand abandons your waist, now grazing over the skin of your cheek, holding you gently.
“It’s stupid. It’s nothing really,” you begin. this time ellie doesn’t interrupt, practically forcing you continue on with your ramble. “the people. they make me nervous. and you—“ you say but interrupt yourself. you almost don’t see it. the way ellie’s eyes flicker in guilt, the way her grip on you loosens subtly, as if to free you from the overwhelming feeling of her presence.
“no-no. that’s not what I meant.” you say as you scramble for words. abruptly, you pull her closer to you, a tightening hug that she embraces with you when the feeling subsides. slightly.
“you just. when I’m around you, I don’t know what to do with myself. you make me nervous, it’s just embarrassing. and yeah, I know we’ve been dating for a couple of months now,” ellie watches as you continue with your ramble, the words falling from your tongue mindlessly. she just waits, watches, “but I don’t know. It’s stupid. I’m sorry.”
ellie pauses, and she looks at you, pulling away just to see your face. you look away, eyes finding the hem of her shirt but she pulls her hand to your cheek, making you look at her now. “I make you nervous?” even if you hadn’t looked at her, you could practically hear the smile on her lips. you push her away, now embarrassed.
“ellie, stop,” you say, dragging out the letter p when you say it. You try to sound irritated, but you find yourself fighting away a smile.
“What? I like seeing my girl smile,” she begins, grabbing your waist, pulling you closer to her as the music from the house becomes distorted, slowing becoming nothing but background noise. “And, I don’t want you worrying about anything okay?” ellie backtracks, nearly cringing at her words, “not that, I could just make you not worry, you know? Like I’m not forcing you or anything. I hope it didn’t come out that way.” this time, you find comfort in ellie’s loosely put words.
And as you smile, when you smile, she stops, watching you like she always has.
“It’s okay ellie. I get it.” You pull her closer to you, and this time you don’t hesitate when you push your lips against hers. for a moment, her lips are still, presumably in slight shock—but she quickly recuperates and kisses you back.
after a moment, you pull away and speaks, “you’re not shy anymore? you can kiss me now?”
you shove ellie playfully away from you, muttering asshole, under your breath.
In the height of the night, even with your undying anxiety, you’d always known ellie would be there to comfort you no matter what.
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mlqueen89 · 1 month ago
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Hi! Can I request Thanksgiving with Marc Spector? Pls make it smutty
UHM. YES, ANON. YES. Sorry it took me so long, but here you gooooo! ♡
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pairing: marc spector x f!reader (moon knight)   
rating: 18+ (minors dni)   
warnings/triggers: smut, fingers in “pie”, oral (m & f receiving), (unprotected) p in v sex, slight dom behaviour, dirty talk, cream pie.
word count:  5,231
summary: november prompt request. marc has a kink for finger sucking which might definitely make you late for thanksgiving dinner with your family. 
A/N:  wanted to get this one out before American Thanksgiving. here you go guuuuys, enjoy smutty marc—thanks anon for requesting this one! p.s.: pleeeeeease read this at the dinner table or in front of your family and think about smutty marc. lemme know how that goes. also sorry, cause i don’t think i could write anything short to save my own damn life.
❥ masterlist ♡ requests ♡ taglist ❥ 
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“Pumpkin or apple?” You peered at the beautiful pies lined up behind the glass at the bakery, shifting your weight from one foot to the other as you balanced your phone between your cheek and shoulder. 
“What?” Marc’s response crackled through the phone, and you could hear the faint sounds of a crowded grocery store in the background. Marc had offered to brave the Thanksgiving rush crowd that morning, leaving you at your shared apartment, apron tied around your waist, staring at a variety of ingredients and a mommy blogger’s recipe.
It had taken you three reads of the entire recipe, flour already spilled on the front of your old band tee, before you decided that there was a perfectly good bakery a fifteen-minute walk from here. Better to play it safe.
“Pumpkin or apple.” 
“You said you’d bake it, didn’t you?” His voice took on a cautious edge, the kind he reserved for tense negotiations and life-or-death situations.
You laughed, dry, incredulous, catching the curious glance of the teenager behind the counter. “Marc, baby,” you drawled, straightening and pacing toward the large plate glass window, “do you remember what happened the last time I tried to bake a pie?” 
“Are you talking about the fire or Steven being sick for a week?” 
“Exactly,” you replied, ignoring that the question was an either or situation. His response was enough to prove your point. 
“So…”
“So, I’m going to play it safe this time...” You studied your freshly manicured nails, the deep merlot polish shining in the mid-November sun streaming in through the bakery’s front window. “I’ll just take it out of the box, put it in a pie plate and—”
“Bob’s your uncle,” Marc finished and you could almost hear the smile in his tone. It still made your stomach do that stupid little flip it did, the same one you’d felt on your first date with him.
“Glad we’re on the same page,” you replied, the same smile in your voice as you nodded at the teenager to box up the pumpkin pie.
“Look, I’m cutting it close,” Marc said, his voice taking on that familiar clipped efficiency that you found strangely sexy. “I still have to grab the bread rolls and that canned cranberry sauce your uncle likes.”
You suppressed a gag. “How is it possible that someone willingly eats canned cranberry sauce?”
“Maybe it’s, I dunno—nostalgic?” He offered lightly.
“Or a very loud cry for help,” you muttered, tucking the boxed pie under your arm as you made your way to the register. “Anyway, just don’t be late. You know how my mom gets.”
“Oh, I remember,” Marc replied dryly, and you could practically hear him bracing for what was to come later that evening, sitting in a tiny split-level your parents refused to sell, all 19 of your family members crammed inside.
“Just—this is the first time you’re meeting my family, and it’s Thanksgiving—” you began, trying your best to underpin your nervous energy. You were sure Marc had clocked it from the moment you woke up last week with the odd stomachache and nauseated feeling that came only with the burgeoning terror of yet another family gathering.
“Hard to forget,” Marc sighed. You could hear the shuffle of activity on his end of the line, probably weaving between aisles and other patrons with the precise, purposeful strides that were very typical of Marc. “You’ve only reminded me six times this week.”
“I know it’s a bit—” you waved your hand even though you knew Marc couldn’t see it, trying to conjure the words clouding your mind, “much. It’s just because this year can’t be like last year.”
Even though you had been with Marc officially since before last Thanksgiving, this was the first time your family was meeting him.
Last year’s planned gathering had been efficiently derailed by what your family simply referred to as “The Great Turkey Incident,” which in reality was not simply just a series of near—catastrophes involving a broken oven, a kitchen fire, food poisoning and your sister swearing off hosting any family gathering for all of eternity. Your mother still choked up when you mentioned it, your father subsequently had to be medicated for high blood pressure. You assumed the latter had nothing to do with “TGTI,” but your dad swore up and down it did, in his thickest Bostonian accent, which only surfaced in moments of high stress or anger.
This year, your mother announced in August, would be better. Less chaotic. Normal or at least in the neighbourhood of normal. It remained to be seen, however, if that was at all possible. Property value in the Normal Neighbourhood had skyrocketed in the last year or so. 
On one hand, Marc’s specialties were vast, especially when it came to making and keeping you extremely north of happy. Being normal, through no fault of his own, just wasn’t exactly one of those specialties.
As you stepped out of the bakery, into the November chill, you stopped, gathering yourself. “You’ve got this,” you amended softly, a bit for yourself and some for Marc too.
“What? Charming your entire family or surviving the day without anyone finding out about my… extracurricular activities?”
 “Both,” you teased, your smile pulling up the corners of your lips until your cheeks hurt. How you’d gone so many years of your life without loving this man was beyond you.
“Great.” Marc’s response was quick, the hint of dry humour rolling through the phone, “piece of cake.”
“Pie. Piece of pie,” you shot back, “pumpkin, specifically.”
You smiled despite yourself, pulling your coat tighter as a chilly November breeze swept down the street. “It’s just… important to me, Marc. They’ve been waiting to meet you for ages, and after everything that happened last year…”
“I get it,” he said, his voice softer now. “But you don’t have to worry. I’ve got this.” 
You stopped on the corner, letting his reassurance settle over you. Despite his gruff exterior and his tendency to run headfirst into danger, Marc Spector had a way of grounding you when you needed it most. 
“See you soon, babe,” Marc sighed, and though his words were casual, there was something calming in the way he spoke, the cadence of his voice a soothing sound.
“Oh! Don’t forget the flowers!” You reminded him, just before he could hang up, as you dashed across the street toward your car, a death grip on the pie box.
There was a long pause on the other end, so long that you pulled the phone away from your face to see if he’d accidentally hung up. “Flowers?”
“Just—trust me. It’ll win my mom over.”
“I’ll do my best,” he said, a note of reluctant determination in his voice.
“Thanks, baby,” you smiled, making a kissing sound before you hung up the phone and carefully deposited the pie into the passenger seat and belted it in like precious cargo.
Tucking your phone away into a pocket, you shifted into the driver’s seat, hands on the wheel for a moment as you looked at the bustling street and sidewalk outside. This Thanksgiving was bound to be memorable—whether for all the right reasons or for another chapter of family chaos, you weren’t entirely sure. But if anyone could handle it, it was Marc Spector.
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You hustled up the stairs to your second floor apartment, precious pie cargo gripped tightly in your hands as you pressed against the stubborn front door.
Marc had texted you about five minutes ago complaining about being at the back of some absurdly long lineup at the cashes, so you figured you had about 30 minutes to shower, get dressed and pull off the great pie lie.
Depositing the pie on the kitchen island, you hurried to the bathroom, stripping layers of clothing in a trail on your way. The hot spray of the water a welcome calm before the storm that would Thanksgiving with your family. Even when there weren’t disasters to speak of, there were differing opinions on everything ranging from politics to sports, celebrity dating drama to conspiracy theories. It was enough to drive even the most sane person, absolutely, stark—raving mad. You’d be lying if you said you weren’t just north of wary introducing Marc into this mix that was already a powder keg.
Maybe this year, you’d pitch that next year, your family could celebrate Canadian Thanksgiving instead: early October, no arguments over politics, singing Kumbaya and sharing maple flavoured desserts while saying “sorry” a lot. That was how Canadians did it, right?
You were in the middle of thinking maple dappled, northern thoughts under the warm cascade of water when you heard the telling sound of the sticky front door of your apartment opening, followed by the sound of Marc’s voice, calling your name.
“Shower!” You called, though you were sure that Marc would be able to follow the trail of clothing even if you hadn’t answered
By the time you’d wrapped up the shower and stepped out from the steamed room, you found Marc in the kitchen, his eyes peering into the pie box curiously, the lid lifted carefully. “I think you’re going to owe me for enabling this lie,” his eyes were still on the pie box as you padded into the kitchen in your towel. Replacing the lid daintily, he handled the dessert like it was ticking, wired with red and blue leads and affixed with a countdown clock before his eyes flicked up to you. You didn’t miss the way he assessed your clothing situation, or lack thereof.
It was one of the many things you loved about this man, he made no show of hiding that he was always one opportune moment away from fucking you.
“First of all,” you started, folding your arms across your chest, “it’s not a complete lie: it was baked by someone, just not me. So, more like pie-adjacent authenticity. If my mom buys it, then I think I owe you—a thank you.”
Marc raised an eyebrow, “a thank you, huh? That’s all I get for being complicit in a fib to save you from culinary embarrassment?”
“Depends,” you smirked, stepping closer to peak into the top of one of the paper bags on the counter, “did you pick up the flowers?”
Marc smirked, tipping his head to a small bouquet of seasonal blooms sitting on the counter. “I think you’re just trying to distract me from the conversation—we were talking about how much you owe me.”
You rolled your eyes, but you couldn’t keep a straight face as Marc stepped in closer, narrowing the space between you. “Fine. Thank you, Marc. You’re my Thanksgiving hero.” You feigned a swoon.
“Damn right, I am,” his voice dropped an octave, his hand finding your toweled waist, pulling you across what little distance remained between you. He dipped his head to your neck and you moved to allow him access, your body responding as if moving with him as he explored your body came as naturally as breathing, as easy as the path of orbit, the innate pull of gravity.
You eased into the touch of his lips, losing yourself in the feeling of him against your skin, suddenly hyperaware of the fact that you could feel the heat coiling low, between your legs, the wetness that had nothing to do with your shower growing.
“Marc…” you huffed as his hand left your waist and tangled in your damp hair at the nape of your neck, his other hand finding the top of the towel tucked against your body. “Careful…” you teased, but you were breathless as the words came out, no real urgency or command in them, “we still have to leave on time and you’re not exactly dressed for a first-time dinner with my family.”
“Plenty of time,” he murmured against your skin, his fingers hooked at the top of your towel, a single, gentle tug the only thing between you and the hungry man who stood before you, waiting to devour you completely.
If you didn’t have anywhere to be, you’d have shed the towel, found his belt and been on your knees in front of him, your mouth aching to be around his thick cock. But you did have somewhere to be and around the haze of the way Marc set your skin on fire under his touch, just on the edge of a losing battle between desire and responsibility, you knew you couldn’t. You’d attend dinner, stay an appropriate amount of time and then make sure to congratulate him for surviving your family on the drive home down a darkened stretch of backroad.
“You’re making this really hard for me….” you breathed out in a cross between a huff and a groan, pressing your hands flat against his chest and pushing without much effort, almost as if you wanted to say you’d put up a fight and had lost. There was always Christmas dinner, that was right around the corner, right?
“I was about to say the same thing.” His voice was a little more than a growl, a rumble in his chest you could feel beneath your palms, still flattened on his chest.
“Marc, baby,” you whispered, a small yelp interrupting your next words as he nipped at your jaw just below your ear, he was good. Too good. Marc had a way of making you forget where you were, of making everything around you melt away until it was just  you and him, him and you, locked in perpetuity, together. “This isn’t going to get you out of wearing a tie….”
Marc groaned, his head falling to your bare shoulder and you turned to press your nose to his scalp, his soft, dark curls smelling of sandalwood and something distinctly him. “It was worth a shot….” he muttered after a moment before he kissed your collarbone and swiftly turned you around, giving you a slight, gently nudge toward the back bedroom. “Now go get dressed before I change my mind about taking that towel off.”
You sighed, pressing your knees together for a moment before you looked back at him over your shoulder, his hand pressed against the countertop for support, the bulge in his jeans clearly visible from where you stood. “Marc?”
His response was little more than a strained hum of acknowledgement, his eyes drawing up to you.
“Wear the tie Steven likes,” you smiled, partly knowing the playful tease would wedge somewhere under his skin, a small little dig, “it brings out your broody eyes. It’ll give you more of the boy-next-door look and less of the guy your mom warns you about.”
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You carefully opened the lid of the pink pie box, using a knife to tactfully slice the tape holding it closed.
When you made it to the back bedroom, still in your towel, you thought briefly about touching yourself, loudly enough to entice Marc to finish what he started. It took you half a minute to decide against it, instead picking out Marc’s favourite pleated skirt, the one that was just barely appropriate for a family dinner. The one he’d fucked you in over the back of your couch after he brought you home from your third date together at that cute mini putt place downtown.
If you couldn’t fuck him now you’d make him sweat through the dinner, make him think about all the ways he wanted to fuck you when you got home.
You were only slightly disappointed that Marc was in the shower when you headed back into the kitchen. Quickly though, the disappointment faded to dread when you realized that you still had to plate the Lie Pie, the Pumpkin Pretense.
You were trying to lift the pie out of the box, when you felt hands on your waist, “you’re not playing fair,” Marc’s voice was next to your ear, his breath warm against your neck sending a shiver down your spine, his chin resting on your shoulder.
“Jesus, Marc!” You jumped, your hand slipping off one side of the pie, your index finger and thumb dipping into the custard pumpkin filling and pieces of the perfect crust crumbling into the top of the pie. You froze and you could feel Marc stiffen at your back.
Marc broke the silence first. “It looks more… uh—realistically baked by you?” He rubbed the back of his neck and you huffed, carefully setting the pie back down in the box. You felt Marc leave your back and watched from the corner of your eye as he shuffled over to the cutlery drawer. “It’s okay—it’s fine. We’ll just, smooth it down and crumble some of the other edges and—”
You noticed that Marc was shirtless, his dark hair damp from the shower, a white towel tied around his waist. Suddenly, you felt like the skirt wasn’t diabolical enough. Your man naturally exuded “fuck me” vibes. You’d absolutely dine on this image of him through dinner. In fact, at this rate, your eyes raking over the hard lines of muscle banding his shoulders and arms, the deep cut of his abs trailing below the line of the towel, you’d be the one opting to skip Thanksgiving dinner and beg him to undo you.
When he moved back behind you, a butter knife in hand to remedy the situation, you could feel the outline of his cock, fitting just between your ass cheeks through the thin materials of the skirt and the towel. You swallowed thickly.
The thought made you smirk, Marc always wanted you and that thought alone drove you crazy with want. Still, you tried to remember that this was supposed to be the year that your family met him, this was supposed to be the big leap in your relationship with him.
“Okay, so just—,” you pointed to the spot on the pie where you could see the divots from your fingers. Marc moved the knife over to the spot you’d pointed to, carefully trying to figure out how he could make it look like a more natural flaw. “Yeah, I mean, I’d just kind of—”
Without thinking, you stuck your thumb in your mouth, carefully sucking off the custard as you pointed to the offending dents in the pie with your other hand. You noticed when the knife in Marc’s grip faltered and his knuckles whitened against the handle. You were sticking your index finger between your lips when you turned to look at him and froze, his face so close to yours, but his eyes were on your mouth and the finger currently trapped between your lips. You could hear his breathing hitch for a fraction of a second, his eyes darkening as his own tongue moved to whet his lips. Behind you, you could feel the length of him twitch against your body and it was enough to make the coiling heat pulse low, between your legs.
In a fraction of a second, he’d abandoned the knife on the counter with a clatter, grasping your wrist as he pulled your finger from your mouth and stuck it in his up to your second knuckle. Slowly, he pulled it from his mouth, careful to relish the taste of the sweet dessert on you.
“You had to go and do that, didn’t you?” He huffed lowly as your finger left his mouth, clean, the sound almost a rumble in his chest and you leaned your head back against him. You definitely weren’t going to make it in time for dinner, but you’d known that when you slipped into the skirt. You were playing a dangerous game around Marc and he’d broken first.
“Marc…” you tried to sound exasperated, but his name came out as a whine as his rough hand slid up your thigh and dipped under the hem of your skirt. You could feel his hard cock against your ass through his towel as he pressed himself against you tightly. Instinctively, you pushed back and ground yourself against him and he groaned in response, his arm banding around your waist and anchoring you to him.
Reaching behind yourself, you wriggled to reach his length, but he moved just out of your reach, your fingers just brushing the rigid outline of him beneath the towel.
“Careful, gorgeous,” he murmured in your ear, a low warning, “not too fast. I’ve been wanting you all fucking day—”
Your head swam, the thought of him inside of you, pumping, pulsing, stretching you, bottoming out on repeat blurred all else. His fingers reached for the line of your panties under your skirt, and paused when they found none. You could feel his smirk against your neck as he alternated between kissing and nipping.
“Looking for something?” You hummed, teasing. Pleated skirt and no panties—you’d been asking for it, waiting for him to discover it. Though, to be fair, you hadn’t expected he’d find out this soon, not while you were still at home, at least. In testing his resolve, you’d set a trap for yourself, overestimating your ability to keep yourself from him.
Marc didn’t pause for long, his fingers following the lines of your already slick pussy until he found your swollen clit and began to massage in long, generous strokes. You sighed, humming as you melted into his touch.
“Can’t decide if you’re a bad girl or a good one….” Marc’s voice was low, his hips rutting against you as if he couldn’t help himself, couldn’t keep from the pleasure he felt as his shaft rubbed against the towel that rubbed against you. You responded under his touch in kind before the sound of a grunt that escaped him had you turning in his arms to face him.
“I can decide for you,” you murmured, low, your tone just on the edge of sing-song, husky with want. You just wanted him inside of you, any way you could get him. You began to sink to your knees in front him, your fingers hooked on the top of his towel. It came away easily, the cotton pooling at his feet, his cock springing out, erect.
Coyly, from your knees, you looked up at him through your lashes as he looked down on you, his pupils blown wide. You kept direct eye contact as you ran your tongue, wide and flat on the underside of him, tracing the path of the pronounced vein from base to ridged tip, slowly.
The deep moan that you pulled from his lips was enough to undo you, your hand wrapping around the base of his shaft as you slowly guided the length of him inside your mouth.
“Fuck, baby. I—I just—if you,” his words were choppy, interspersed with muttered curses, grunts and groans as your tongue made careful paintings on the underside of his pulsing cock, the taste of precum filling your mouth with each pass. “I’m going to—fuck, baby—”
Marc pulled you up from your knees before he dropped to his, throwing one of your legs over his shoulder before he set in on your wet center.
Holding yourself against the counter behind you, you arched your back, biting your lip against the moan that sounded more like a plea for more. As you reached for an edge of counter to grip, the tips of your fingers nudged the abandoned pie box. “Marc—fuck, fuck, fuck—” You pressed yourself up on the tips of the toes on the one leg that was still planted on the ground, your toes on the leg over Marc’s shoulder curling until your foot threatened to cramp.
“You said boy-next-door,” Marc huffed out a small laugh, the edges of his voice tinged with need as he lightly kissed your throbbing clit. He knew exactly how to drive you to the edge of madness and hold you there until you begged him to throw you over. “Is that what you want me to be right now?”
“F—oh god, fuck the boy next door,” your words were without heat, your tongue heavy, your mind a swirl of fog; you were malleable in his hands, you’d do anything he asked if he just said the words.
“Oh, is that what you want? I can get Steven out here if you—” Marc teased, stopping the perfect alternation of tongue and nose, thumb and light, maddening suction with his lips against your pulsating center. Before he could finish, you ground your hips into his face, cutting off his next words as you pressed your pussy against his mouth, encouraging him to continue with a moan as he licked a stripe between your folds carefully. Marc was nothing if not tactical, precise.
“Marc,” his name came out strained as you braced yourself against the counter at your back, your leg hooked over his shoulder as his fingers dug into your ass, pinning you in place, “please…”
You could feel yourself ascending, reaching the peak, your hips gyrating against each stroke of his tongue as he ate you out.
“Say my name, baby...” he murmured, his finger slipping into your wet cunt, his chin and mouth slick with you as he looked up at you from under dark lashes, his deep brown eyes blown wide. His gaze held yours, your chest heaving with each deep stroke of his thick finger, before he added another and you gasped, stretching around them. A smirk tugged at the corner of his lips before he dipped to pepper light, noisy kisses on your clit.
“Marc—” you barely formed his name, your hand leaving the counter to grab a handful of his beautiful hair. “Please, I need you, now, right now—holy fuck—.”
Marc hardly ever lost control, hardly ever cracked, but when he had you, naked and begging for him… you felt powerful, like you held kryptonite, the kind that would bring Marc to his knees, quite literally.
Marc stood, holding you steady as your leg slipped off his shoulder and you lost your balance. Grabbing a nearby stool, he lifted you swiftly onto the edge of it, wedging himself between your open legs, the tip of his weeping cock nudging your slick opening. He held himself there for a moment, his hands on your hips, steadying you, his eyes holding yours as you wriggled, chest heaving, on the verge of begging for him to fill you.
“Say it again,” Marc’s eyes, dark with lust, held yours and you complied.
“Fuck. Me.” You breathed the words, low and clear, his thumb rubbing through your folds rhythmically, “please.”
Marc didn’t need to be told twice, his hips thrusting up into you, his length filling you as you gasped. Each thrust pulled him out nearly all the way, the long strokes, paired with the pressure of his pubic bone send you cascading over the edge. Marc wasn’t far behind, his pulsing cock emptying inside of you as you squeezed around him and you both breathed out the sounds of release.
“Well—” you sighed, content as you carefully balanced on the edge of the stool, your breathing evening out as Marc stood before you naked, still erect. “I think we’re definitely going to be late now.”
“Fashionably late?” Marc shrugged, bending to gather the forgotten towel off the floor. As he straightened, he stepped up to the counter, reaching across to grab the bouquet of flowers. “At least we have these and the—” Marc’s hand swept across the counter, misjudging the distance between him and the pie box.
The low thud of the pink box, pie still inside, hitting the tiled floor in the kitchen quickly wiped away the post-sex haze and you looked up at Marc, his eyes shifting to the floor and back to you, apologetically.
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You shifted your weight as you and Marc stood on your parents’ porch, catching your breath after rushing from the car. Marc adjusted the cuffs of his shirt, still looking annoyingly put together despite the… delay. A delay that lead you to be a whole two hours late, between that and the pie clean up.
Meanwhile, you were still hoping no one would notice the hastily fixed flyaways in your hair or the slight flush on both your faces. You had left the skirt at home, put on some panties and changed into a more family appropriate green dress.
“You ready?” you asked, glancing at him, the glow of the yellowed porch light catching the angles on his face. “Remember, if my cousin Alex asks you about anything to do with his Art History classes, it’s okay to let Steven take the wheel for a bit…”
Marc smirked, his eyes raking over you appreciatively in a way that always made you feel loved. “More than ready. But next time, sweetheart, maybe we shouldn’t start something when there’s a ticking clock involved.”
You gave him a pointed look, though your lips twitched with amusement. “You’re the one who couldn’t keep his hands to himself.”
“You were wearing that skirt. I think you knew exactly what you were getting yourself into,” he teased, leaning in for a quick peck, “it’s not like you tried to stop me.”
Before you could retort, the door swung open.
“Finally!” your mom exclaimed, throwing her arms wide. “I thought I was going to have to start without you.” Her eyes lit up as she took Marc in. “And this must be Marc.”
Marc straightened, offering his hand with a charming smile. Oh good, he was trying the Steven approach first before laying into the smolder. “It’s great to finally meet you, Mrs—”
“Oh, none of that Mrs. nonsense,” your mom blustered, swatting his hand away to pull him into a hug instead. Marc stiffened for a beat before relaxing into it, casting you a slightly wide-eyed look over her shoulder.
Your mom pulled back, beaming. “I’ve heard so much about you. Now, come in, come in! Dinner’s almost ready, and everyone’s starving. Where’s that pie you were bringing?”
You froze for half a second before slipping seamlessly into a casual smile. “The pie?”
“Yes, the pie,” your mom said, hands on her hips. “Pumpkin, wasn’t it? You said you’d bring it. You texted me about it this afternoon—”
Marc opened his mouth to speak, but you jumped in, shooting him a sly grin. “Oh, uh—there was a pie shaped accident… a tragic end, really. I was really proud of the way it turned out too.”
“Tragic end?” your mom repeated, eyebrows arching.
Marc cleared his throat, stepping in smoothly to fill the gap. “Completely my fault, actually. I wasn’t paying attention, and it ended up on the floor. I promise to make it up to you—I’ve got a knack for desserts. Next time, I’ll bake something myself.”
Your mom looked between the two of you, her lips twitching as though she didn’t quite buy the story but wasn’t going to press. “Well, accidents happen,” she said, waving it off. “But next time, you’re on pie duty, Marc.”
Marc smiled, his charm dialed up to full. “It’s a deal.”
As your mom led the way to the dining room, you leaned into Marc, whispering, “Nice save.”
“You owe me,” Marc smirked down at you, his hand brushing the small of your back.
“Pretty sure you’re the one who owes me, pie destroyer.”
His low chuckle followed you both into the warm chaos of Thanksgiving dinner.
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Tags: @silvernight-m
A/N: i make all the banners and dividers myself. if you want to be tagged - hmu here
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ch6rm · 4 days ago
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♱ ࣪˖ date night — chris sturniolo
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. . . you're caught up in a terrible date, and a rescue from chris turns into something more than just a friendly favor.
˖ warnings. smut (fingering, no actual p in v, implied sex), confessing feelings kinda(?)
˖ soph's note. first one shot, and whoever requested this im so sorry it took forever 😭
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the restaurant was a cozy italian place, tucked in a quiet corner of the city. candlelit tables, soft music playing in the background, and a warm basket of breadsticks in front of you—it was exactly what came to your mind when you thought of a perfect date. tonight was anything but that. it would’ve been perfect, if only the person sitting across from you wasn’t so insufferable. you felt like you were being held hostage, forced to listen to him talk about himself and nothing else. your friend was a horrible match maker.
within five minutes of sitting down, he’d managed to interrupt you twice. you sat across from him, trying to force a polite smile as he launched into yet another story about himself. here we go again….
“oh, and i’m super into traveling,” he continued, leaning back in his chair with a smug grin. “but only first-class, you know? i work too hard to settle for anything less.” how had we even gotten to the topic of traveling?
“oh…” you nod absentmindedly. gosh, this guy was a jerk. you glanced around the restaurant as he spoke, hoping the waiter would interrupt with the check.
he obviously didn’t notice your lack of enthusiasm as he dove into yet another story, leaning forward in his chair enthusiastically. how many stories was this guy pulling out of his ass? you fought the urge to roll your eyes. you’d been here for over an hour and he’s barely asked you a single question all night.
“anyway,” he said, waving a hand, “enough about me. what do you think about my watch?”
you blinked, staring at the obnoxiously large gold watch on his wrist. “it’s… nice?”
“right?” he grinned, clearly fishing for compliments. “cost me a fortune, but hey, i deserve it. gotta treat yourself, right?”
you tried to stay optimistic, but as the evening dragged on, you could feel yourself mentally checking out. when he started boasting about how many instagram followers he had, you knew you were done. you needed an escape.
forcing another smile, you reached for your phone under the table, sending a text to chris, hoping he could save you from this nightmare of a date. you: can u please pick me up? this date is a total disaster
you press send, fingers anxiously tapping on the table as you await chris’ response, the man in front of you too caught up in his life story to notice your anxious glances around the restaurant. finally, your phone buzzed.
chris: wya?
you sent him the address, feeling a rush of relief knowing you were gonna be out of here soon. there was so much precious time wasted on this stupid date, and you mentally cursed yourself for even giving this guy a chance.
ten minutes later, you spotted chris’ car through the window. you began to speak, cutting the guy off mid-sentence as you stood abruptly, grabbing your purse. “im really sorry, i’ve got to go,”
“what? why?” he looked genuinely confused, furrowing his brows as he saw you getting ready to leave so sudden.
“something came up,” you lied, giving him a sympathetic look, already heading for the door before he could say another word. chris was leaning against his car, arms crossed, his expression one of amusement as you both got in the car.
“rough night?” he asked as you approached.
“you have no idea,” you groaned, slipping into the passenger seat. chris climbed in after you, pulling away from the curb. almost immediately, you launched into a rant, frustration bubbling over as you spoke about everything that went wrong. chris listened, feeding into your frustration as he let out a sarcastic remark every now and then.
eventually, your complaints died down, and with nowhere else to head, chris pulled into an vacant parking lot as the car was engulfed with a comfortable silence.
“thanks for coming to get me,” you say, glancing over at him. “i couldn’t handle another second there. he was driving me insane.”
chris chuckled, his fingers drumming lightly on the steering wheel. “‘s no big deal, really.”
you give him a soft smile, glancing around the empty parking lot. the only light came from the dim glow of a nearby streetlamp. for a moment, neither of you spoke. you shifted in your seat, looking over to chris as his fingers stilled against the wheel. you couldn’t help but notice the way the light hit his face, accentuating his cheekbones and jawline. you stared for a second longer before your voice broke the silence.
“but seriously,” you begin, “you’re always there for me. i really appreciate that, chris.”
chris turns to you fully, his expression softening at your words. “of course,” he says, his voice quiet, “i’ll always be there for you. ‘s cause i care about you. you know that, right?” he looks over at you, and the sincerity in his voice made your chest tighten.
“i know,” you nod, looking away from his gaze, “i care about you, too.” you feel a rush of heat rise up to your cheeks as you speak. why were you getting so flustered?
something shifted in his expression as you said that, his playful demeanor no where to be found as your eyes met his again. “you’re not just saying that?” he asked, leaning in slightly, his hand resting on the steering wheel.
“no,” you murmured, the word catching in your throat. you watch as his gaze dropped to your lips for a split second before darting back up to your eyes, and you found your pulse beginning to quicken.
“okay, cause i mean it. i care do about you—a lot." his voice lingered on the last word, and the way he said it made you feel a way you couldn’t quite explain.
you swallowed hard, unsure of what to say. his eyes were locked on yours, and you felt unable to look away. it felt like he could see straight through you, past all your nervousness and hesitation, and straight to the way your heart was pounding.
“chris…" you started, but his name barely left your lips as he leaned in, his hand slipped from the wheel. you felt his fingertips brush lightly against your arm, sending a shiver down your spine.
"tell me to stop," he murmured, his voice low and his breath warm against your cheek. his eyes flickered to your lips again, lingering this time. but you didn’t tell him to stop.
his lips met yours, tentative at first, like he wanted to make sure this was real. but when you responded, your hand moving to cup the side of his face, his hesitation disappeared. the kiss deepened, and you soon felt yourself being pulled onto his lap, now straddling him. warmth flooded through you as he gripped your waist, fingers digging into your hips. you felt the kiss becoming needier, his hands moving to pull you closer, deepening the kiss. your hands find their way to his hair, softly tugging at the strands as he lets out a quiet groan into your mouth. his hands moved to your thighs, rubbing up and down before they slipped under your jean skirt to tease around the soft lace of your underwear. chris pulls away, beginning to pepper kisses down your jawline and to your neck as his fingers inched closer to your clothed core.
his middle finger delicately brushed over your cunt, feeling the wetness seep through your panties as you let out a gasp, your hold on him tightening.
“you want me to stop?” he murmurs into your neck, beginning to add more pressure with his fingers. you quickly shake your head, mumbling out a desperate ‘no’ before you feel him slip two of his fingers into your panties, groaning at the feeling of your wetness. you let out a moan as he teases your entrance, slipping his two fingers inside you effortlessly.
“fuck,” you breathe out, and chris begins to pump his fingers into and out of you, curling his fingers as he elicits another moan from you, your grip on his hair tightening.
chris leaves hot and opened mouth kisses on your neck—the pace of his fingers quickening. he continued to bite and suck at your neck in response to your whimpers, his free hand coming up to squeeze at your tits as you bucked your hips into his hand, the knot in your stomach threatening to snap.
“i’m gonna cum, chris,” you whine, your head falling against his shoulder before you felt him remove his fingers, bringing them to his mouth as he tasted your arousal, leaving you whiney and needy for more.
chris patted your hip, urging you to get up as he spoke, “backseat, now.”
© ch6rm
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toxicanonymity · 2 years ago
Note
No outbreak au where reader sends joel either nudes or a video because she's being extra bratty due to joel neglecting her for work. Cue a grumpy frustrated joel ready to come home give his girl exactly what she needs.
daddy Joel one shot
2.4k / joel miller x f!reader / master list
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mood board by milla-frenchy 🖤
Summary: You've been bad. See ask.
WARNINGS: Big girthy age gap, mean brat-tamer-ish Joel (I do not write official kinks that follow rules), use of "daddy" and pet names, Joel is a little rough with you, hair pulling, hand swatting, manhandling, degradation, blow job, unsafe p in v, blindfold, dubcon breeding.  NO use of Y/N.
next: a day in the filth
You get bored and send Joel a sexy picture.  You don't have class and don't expect him home until 5:30 or later. He works at headquarters nearby most days. You can sometimes bait him home for lunch, but not lately, and it upsets you.  He’s working on a big project and says he just can’t get away. He’s warned you--he needs to focus.  
He texts you back. "What the hell are you doin’?" When you don't answer, he sends a video.  You squeeze your thighs together before you open it, anticipating a stern warning about what he’s gonna do to you when he gets home.  Usually, the video is from his office with the door closed.  Occasionally, it's from the bathroom if he wants to show you what you do to him instead of tell you what he'll do to you. 
When you open this video, he's standing outside in front of a chain link fence and cement is being poured in the background.  He’s wearing the shirt and tie he left home in this morning, but also a hardhat.  He has one hand on his hip with the sleeve rolled up.  "Tryin' to piss me off so I toss you around? That it, baby doll? 'Cause all ya gotta do is ask daddy real nice."  He points a finger at you.  "You better cut it out." A crane starts beeping in the background as he ends the video. 
You send your own video back. "I just miss you, Daddy." You're still on his bed, lying on your side, pouting.  Your nipples are poking through your thin, lace camisole.  Joel starts typing but stops and doesn't ever send anything.
Around 6:00 when you hear Joel park in the driveway, you look out the window.  He comes around the front of his truck toward the house.  His face is tense, his tie has been loosened, his forearms are pumped up.  He’s unbuckling his belt as he walks, which sends a rush of need between your legs.  Downstairs, the door opens then slams shut. His boots thud across the floor until he takes them off.  As he makes his way up the stairs, his unfastened belt jingles and his feet land loudly with each step. 
The bedroom door is open.  His hands are clenched into fists when he enters and crosses the room.  As he reaches the bed, he stops and puts his hands on his hips. His body is tense. He demands, "'the hell is wrong with you?" He stands next to the bed and glowers at you as he unbuttons his pants. The intensity in his eyes goes right between your legs.  He continues, "You know how dangerous a construction site is? Gonna get me killed sendin' shit like that." 
You sit up. "Sorry, Daddy," you say quietly as you sit up. You reach out for him. "I didn't kno-" he firmly grabs your wrist then throws your hand away.  
His chest heaves. He grabs you by the hair and makes you look at him. 
"Course ya didn't. . .Don't think about anything but this cock, do ya?" 
Unsure if the question is rhetorical, you shake your head timidly, as best you can with his fist still holding your hair.
His face remains stern as he tugs you toward the edge of the bed. "On your knees." He releases your hair and you nod. 
You fall to your knees on the floor. One strap of your cami falls down, exposing your breast. You don't fix it. 
You reach for the growing bulge in his pants. He swats your hand away, then abruptly and firmly takes your chin in his hand to look up at him.  He gives you a small shake as he does it.
"Daddy's in charge. Daddy knows best." 
You nod. 
"Gonna be a patient little doll, aren't ya?"  You nod again. 
"Good girl."  He rubs the front of his pants, depriving you of feeling how hard he's getting for you.  He sucks in a chest full of air through his nose. With his free hand, he grabs your breast, pushing it and kneading it flatly into your chest. He growls.  You look straight up as he looms over you, massaging your breast and his considerable bulge at the same time. "What am I gonna do with you?" He looks you over and shakes his head in disapproval. "You're too bored, aren't ya? Lie here thinkin' about this cock all goddamn day.” You salivate watching him stroke his pants.  “I told ya, you need a hobby."
Maybe that's what you do some days--the days you don't have class. Better than being back with your family.
"I'm not bored," You shake your head. “just miss you sometimes.” 
"Now, listen. You wanna stay here? You better get pregnant or get a job. Are we clear?"
You swallow and nod hesitantly.
“Spoiled brat like you don’t want a job,” he adds.  "So I’m gonna be nice and help ya with the first option.”
He releases your breast and urgently unzips his pants. "’Cause I’ve waited long enough for it, baby. Daddy knows best." He pulls down his boxers and wraps his veiny hand around his commanding cock.   You nod.  You wet your lips and pry your eyes from his cock to meet his gaze. 
"Look at you. Already droolin', aren't ya?" His voice is dark and low. He's snarling.  "Open that dirty little mouth." You do as you're told. He puts one hand on the back of your head and steps forward to put his cock in your mouth. You long to lick and suck the tip, but you're not in charge. You open as wide as you can and he guides his cock between your lips. He keeps going until it's nearly to the back of your throat, then he lays it onto your tongue. "Go 'head, now."
You bring both your hands to his cock to hold it steady.  Having it in your mouth makes you throb with desire. You seal your lips around the smooth shaft and begin to suck. 
"Good girl."
He holds your head in both hands and guides you on his cock. You suck and lick the underside strongly. His hips rock into you.  When you try to let some of his shaft out so you can suckle on the tip, he grabs your hair as he pulls your head back toward him.  "Watch it," he says coldly. Instead, you suck from the back or your throat. The fullness of your mouth and throat prickles your eyes with tears.  You're so wet, you long to touch yourself.  You take one hand off his cock and start to reach down, but he catches your hand and brings it back to where it was.
“Nuh-uh.  Don’t you dare. Not unless Daddy says.” 
After a minute of sucking his cock, you begin to taste his precum, one of your favorite tastes in the world. He says, "That's all, baby." He takes it from your mouth and it hits your chin on its way down.  
—-
Joel steps out of his pants and leaves his stiff cock and balls hanging over his boxers.  You sit there on your knees awaiting instruction. He crouches down to the floor and firmly grabs you by both arms. "Get up," he growls and forces you to your feet with an emphatic shake of your arms at the end.  Then he looks you up and down and pushes you backwards onto the bed. You catch yourself with your forearms and elbows.
He wraps a big hand around his cock again and looks at your desperate, hungry face. He's still wearing his shirt and tie.  He leans over you to yank your sleep shorts down below your knees. Then steps one foot between your legs, pressing his foot down on the shorts to take them off completely.   He spreads your thighs, then kneels between them. He puts his hands down on the bed near your arms and hovers over you. His tie falls onto your chest. He supports himself with one arm while he unknots the tie, slides it out, and drops it onto the bed. He unbuttons his shirt, and you marvel at how the muscles of his supporting arm stretch the fabric. As he finishes the last button, you reach out for his bicep. 
He catches you by the wrist again.  "What are you doin?"  He throws your hand down. 
You're quiet. 
"Who’s in charge?" He stands up and takes off the button-down. Your desire throbs as his chest and biceps emerge in just a tight undershirt.
"I forgot," you say. “You just look so nice.” 
He fumes, "Forgot who’s in charge? Alright, know what?" He grabs the tie. "Let's remove temptation. C'mere. Sit up."
—-
You sit up on the bed, and he ties it as a blindfold around your eyes. “There ya go.”  His hand on your chest pushes you down on your back again. He sits up on his knees to look between your legs, and he marvels at your glistening cunt.  “Drippin’ all over the place, baby.”
He holds his massive cock above your cunt, gripping it loosely with just two fingers and a thumb on the lower half of the shaft.  He drop the smooth tip heavily onto your clit, then he rapidly moves his cock it up and down, hitting you clit and teasing you with the rhythmic contact.  You whimper, and tension swells in your abdomen.  You gasp and bite your lip.  You tilt your hips, trying to catch it with your leaking cunt.  
“Good girl,” he says, then notches it at your entrance.  He begins to push inside, and you gasp at the stretch.  He doesn’t wait.  He pushes in a little more.  Once he’s far enough in to stay in, he braces his hands on the bed above your shoulders then shoves his length into you with a drawn-out groan that makes you twitch around him before your walls have fully made room.  You can only imagine the look on his face.  He pushes furthe, as deep as he can, with all his weight behind his pelvis. Your body's still trying to catch up. "God damn," he sighs. "Loosen up for Daddy.” You try your best to relax. 
He slowly retreats then slams his thick length to the hilt with a low grunt.  "Good girl.”  He repeats the motion, sliding into you, splitting you open with the help of your ample slick. The smooth fabric of the tie feels nice, but you wish you could see how hot he looks.  His face of pleasure is one to behold. 
“Please let me see you, dadd-.”
"No," he replies coldly without hesitation. He punctuates it with a powerful thrust into your depths. “Not this time.” He pulls back most of his length.  
Your lip trembles and you bite it to keep from crying.
He sighs loudly as he fills you up again. "Keep takin' it like a good girl, and next time you can watch." 
He braces himself with a forearm on the bed near your head as he keeps pounding you. He urgently pulls down your camisole so  both your breasts are out.  He palms one hungrily as he thrusts into you and breathes heavily. He plants his mouth on your neck and sucks hard.  Then he aggressively kisses your lips and your mouth thirstily accepts his.   At this angle, he’s grinding into your clit.  Your hips lift and your back arches as he kisses you and presses against your most sensitive place with each thrust.  He feels you getting close and breaks the kiss with a moan.  
“Go ‘head, baby.   You can come.” He fills you with his cock a few more times, then you whimper as pleasure pulses outward from your clit, making you spasm around his length.  
“Oh, Daddy,” you whimper as you come.  “Ohh,” you moan. Your waves continue and your hips lift into his.  
He groans as your cunt chokes his cock.  Then his breathing becomes heavier, more desperate.   “That’s right, baby,”  he breathes.  You would give anything to see his face.  But even without the view, you can feel his climax approaching in his voice and breathing. He lays a massive hand on your lower stomach.  "Gonna fill you up,” he pants.  "Make this belly round."  He moans and his cock begins to twitch.  “Show everyone who’s Daddy’s good girl.” He slows his hips.
“Fuck,” he says between heavy breaths.  He retreats one more time then slams all the way into you and his cock begins to pulse massively.  
You moan, and your cunt twitches again.  “Oh, Daddy.”
He quickly puts you in a mating press before plunging to the hilt again, filling you with a huge load.  One more thrust as he empties his balls and you gasp and pant.  He stays in position and sighs, then begins to catch his breath.  “Good girl,”  he whispers.  “You can look now.”
You move the necktie up to your eyebrows and watch him hovering over you with his face pink, hair sticky, neck vein bulging. His eyes sparkle as he looks at you.  He lays a hand on your stomach again.  His chest is still heaving under his white understhirt, and his biceps stretch the sleeves. “Fuck, you’re pretty,” he says.  “You’re gonna be the death of me, baby,” he laughs.  His face darkens.  “‘specially if you don’t stop textin’ dirty when I’m workin’.”
“Sorry, Daddy,” you whisper earnestly.
“I forgive you. Know why?”
“Why”
“‘Cause you took this cock so good.” He rocks his hips into you one last time, making you gasp as he pushes his cum deeper.  Then he very slowly pulls out.  He puts a big pillow under your butt. “Don’t you move, now. ” He lays down next to you on the bed, head in his hand, and watches you look at him with affection.  He kisses your cheek and says, "that's my girl." He gently strokes your chest and fondles your breasts, occasionally kissing you. 
"Are you still mad," you ask. 
"I don't think I can stay mad at ya, baby." He closes his eyes and kisses you long and deep. “Take my cock too good."
-
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mothhball · 10 months ago
Text
five-finger discount
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Pairing | Neil Lewis x Reader
Warnings | 18+ SMUT, DUB-CON, fingering, p in v sex, unprotected sex, blackmail, sex on camera, brief edging, creampie, cheating, cursing, Moth pretends to know anything about movies
Summary | You’ve been trying to make easy money, but you’re not as subtle as you thought. Some lessons need to be learned the hard way.
Words | 4.4k
Notes | FINALLY DONE. and vaguely inspired by 70s porn haha
MINORS DNI
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INT. GUMSHOE VIDEO – THRILLER AISLE – DAY
“No, it's not. That's not what she said. Someone is in trouble. Something bad is happening!” squawks a woman from the running TV in the background while your fingers trace over the backs of the VHS as you walk past the shelves.
1 PM on a Wednesday certainly is no rush hour at Gumshoe Video. Even the most annoying film bros don't come here at this time of day to flaunt their knowledge of the craft and subsequent absence of social skills. You're in the clear, pretending to deeply think about your choice in entertainment for the end of the day, even though that couldn't be further from the truth. Throwing a glance over your shoulder, you spot the business owner, entranced by the film that he put on to pass the time, and you can see his plush lips silently mouthing along to the dialog. Cute. And easy to trick.
It's not your first time here. No, you made sure to become familiar with the place over the course of months now, learning where each genre and title has been sorted into its rightful place.
Certain old VHS-tapes can sell for a small fortune online, and for every tape you rent, you take one for free with the plan of selling it to the highest bidder. Currently, you have a stack at home, waiting for you to finally stop procrastinating and open up that damn eBay account.
Your pinky catches on a specific tape. 'A History of Violence', currently estimated to lure an additional 199 bucks into your greedy bank account. Quietly, you pull out the film, leaving a gaping hole in the neatly sorted row as you slip it into your purse.
With nimble hands, you try to rearrange the tapes to make the missing VHS a little less obvious, but in your haste, a few of them escape your clammy grasp and clutter to the ground. A head of silky brunette hair whips around, and you're met with pretty blue eyes as the store owner turns to face you.
You let out a giggle, trying to sound as vapid and innocuous as possible. You’re in character now. The persona you chose? An unassuming, ditzy little thing that’s hot enough to distract him, but stupid enough as to not get suspected of any wrong-doings. You’d say you’re a good actress. A fantastic one, even.
"Sorry," you purr, batting your eyelashes at him. "I'm a little clumsy today." You're already bending over to pick up the tapes when he makes his way over to lend a helping hand, and you make sure to show off your cleavage in an intentionally accidental way. You know he’s into you. You’ve been seeing the heat in his gaze for weeks now, along with the occasional crack in his voice and an almost endearing desire to impress you. It’s his biggest weakness and the reason your plan has been working flawlessly until now.
"Hey, hey, no worries. Uh, gravity wins sometimes. Don't sweat it," he grins at you, brushing his fingers against yours as the two of you work together to put everything back into place.
"What exactly were you looking for anyway?" he suddenly asks, breaking your focus for a second.
"Uh, Moonstruck," you mutter, completely on autopilot. The store owner nods, pursing his lips as he mulls over your answer. You’re aware of your blunder before he even answers.
"Moonstruck? Then you're in the wrong section. You know, with how often you come here, I thought you got the hang of our layout by now." Fuck, he’s got you. Play dumb. Play dumb!
Your poker face almost cracks, but you keep your composure. Or at least you try to. "Huh? Oh - I... right. God, I'm just all over the place today." You giggle again, relieved by the way his grin seems to soften. Hook, line and sinker. He may think he’s detective Sam Spade from ‘The Maltese Falcon’, but you’re Brigid O’Shaughnessy. Or he’s Batman and you’re Catwoman. Or – well, it doesn’t matter. Baseline is, you’re snatching tapes right from underneath his nose while he’s too busy fantasizing about what’s underneath your clothes.
The store owner speaks up again, lazily rubbing the back of his neck as he leans against the shelf, and his free hand wanders and gestures around a bit as if he’s trying to figure out which pose would look the coolest and most effortless.
“Right. Actually, that wasn’t really fair of me.” You tilt your head at him, eyebrows furrowing ever so slightly which prompts him to elaborate. “Some of our tapes went missing. Y’know, some of the oldies and goldies? That’s why I didn’t stock Moonstruck this week.”
Your lips part in surprise, but all you can reply with is a soft ‘oh’. The store owner shrugs, leaning in towards you. There’s something conspiratory about his expression which makes your stomach churn a little. “Yeah. But I do still have it. It’s just in my office.”
There’s a beat of silence as you mull over the unspoken offer. Your plan is built on the one tape you always rent for cheap. No one would think you’re stealing if you’re actually paying for something, right? Despite this, you wonder if you should call it a day and head home with the stolen film hidden in your purse. Alibi be damned.
“I… That’s great. Uh, actually, I was just about to –“ he cuts you off with a casual wave of his hand, and the grin on his face widens once more.
“Don’t worry. I’ll even give you a discount. Just follow me.”
INT. GUMSHOE VIDEO – NEIL LEWIS’ PRIVATE OFFICE – DAY
The private office of Neil Lewis, cinephile and pop culture enthusiast, is decorated with a distinct Film Noir charm, lovingly empathized by leather chairs and a checkered floor. Not to mention the letters on the door. He calls himself a private investigator. A joking title that makes you palms sweat ever so slightly. You notice that he set up a small camera on his desk, but he brushes it off as a regular procedure.
"So... Moonstruck,” he starts, gesturing for you to take a seat. Which you do. “Great pick. Just curious - Why did you go for that one?" The question makes you pause for a second.
"The... the cover spoke to me,” you casually lie, trying to sound somewhat cute, but it doesn’t land. Neil’s expression quickly betrays his skepticism, and his lips part while his narrowed gaze wanders around the room for a minute. "Hm. And what about the other one?"
"What do you mean?" Play dumb, play dumb, play – but he’s not letting you off the hook so easily.
"The other tape."
Silence fills the office, and you swear the VHS in your purse is starting to burn a hole right where it’s settled in your lap.
"Which... other tape? I just picked out this one."
"Ohhh, right. Sorry. My bad. Just… Moonstruck." The way he’s saying this makes it seem like he enjoys the taste of the letters on his tongue. You nod, a little too eager to get this conversation over and done with.
"So you won’t mind me looking through your purse?" Neil leans forward in his seat, folding his hands on top of his desk. Your eyes briefly fall onto the little desk name plate that’s undoubtedly just made out of shiny, golden plastic. But it does the job. It intimidates you. At least to a certain degree.
“No,” you lie through your teeth, trying to shrug off the tension. “I… it’s certainly no problem, Mr. Lewis. None at all.”
Neil lets out an apathetic sigh as he rises from his seat, causing the leather to squeak. His steps seem a little too confident for a video rental owner as he moves around the desk to first walk over to the door and lock it. “Neil is fine. I’m not a big fan of… formalities,” he starts, coming up behind you to set his hands on your shoulders. His hands are gentle but firm, causing your body to warm right down to the deepest layers. To make his control over the situation even more apparent, he splays his hands, tracing your collarbone with his middle finger. It’s subtle enough that he could pass it off as a figment of your imagination if you should choose to speak up. But you don’t. You stay quiet, even as he leans down and you can hear the murmur of his voice right next to your ear.
“Open your purse.”
You bite your tongue, slowly opening your purse to find Cher’s face grinning back at you. It’s Moonstruck. In all of its romantic glory, and it makes both you and Neil freeze for a moment. You lick your dry lips, saying the first thing that comes to mind.
"That's mine."
"Yours?" You wouldn’t know, but his eyebrow twitches upward at your ridiculous claim.
"Yeah. A... personal copy." Great, now you’re doubling down.
"With my name on it?" Silence, yet again. You could basically hear the dramatic music that the producers of any reality TV shows use in the background of any tense scene. But this isn’t scripted. No, all of this is improvised.
"... what are the odds?" you croak, feeling how your throat goes dry in real time. Neil scoffs in reply, shaking his head, and his grip on your shoulders tightens a tad before he lets go entirely. His expression is stern as he steps in front of you, leaning against the desk and crossing his shapely arms over his chest. For a moment, he’s silent, letting his eyes wander all over your form in a slow, appreciative way that makes your palms get sweaty. “You do know I have to call the police, don’t you?”
“What?” Your breath hitches in your lungs, and you blink a few times, almost in an attempt to shake yourself out of this very strange dream. “This… this is just one tape. Isn’t this kind of excessive?”
“Yeah, maybe it’s one tape today. But you’ve been coming here for weeks.” Your jaw drops, but you can’t seem to come up with an appropriate response. You’ve been had. For the past months, you were convinced that he only saw you as a little piece of eye candy wandering through the store, but he’s been seeing right through you all along. Now you definitely don’t feel like Catwoman anymore. When he notices that you’re not going to say anything, Neil continues.
“Did you really think we don’t have security cameras all over the place? Well, I’ve been watching you the entire time, playing along when you pretended to be all ditzy and cute. It’s not just one instance. It’s a whole case, baby. And you’ll go to jail.” That makes you break out of your stupor, and you can feel your pulse speeding up.
“No- wait, no, no, no. Please, can’t we just talk about this for one second?”
“I don’t bargain with thieves.” He’s smug. Too smug for your liking, considering that he’s threatening you with the loss of your precious, precious freedom.
“Please, I’ll do anything,” you plead, fixing him with the biggest puppy dog eyes you can muster in an attempt to appeal to the soft, awkward side of him. And he cracks. At least the tiniest bit.
“Maybe… maybe we can work something out. But I’ll need to search you first. Who knows what else you’re hiding.” He gestures for you to stand, and you get up from your seat, causing the leather cushioning to faintly squeak once again. “Spread your arms. To the side.”
Your expression settles into a pout, but you do as you’re told, much to Neil’s satisfaction. He returns to his previous position behind you and starts by touching your shoulders, slowly trailing his hands down your arms. His fingers leave tingles behind on your skin, and you’re even more aware of how close he’s gotten when you feel his breath on the back of your neck. His cheeky hands continue to wander, making their way down your sides, softly squeezing around your waist before he moves on to your hips. You try to think about it as a TSA search, but it’s a little hard to do when his hands linger for much longer than necessary on your thighs and your calves as he crouches down. Once he’s satisfied, he straightens back up, and you almost think he’s done before he leans in to rasp into your ear.
��You’re gonna have to take your clothes off… so I can search you more thoroughly.”
Your heart skips a beat, and you’re about to protest, but he’s already pulling your top off, tossing it aside before he moves on to your shorts. A sigh escapes him as he pulls them down along with your panties, and he doesn’t give you even a second to recover before he’s gripping and caressing the curves of your body. Leaning his chin on your shoulder, he runs his fingers over your hips, feeling how your skin warms beneath his touch. “Take your bra off.”
“What? There’s no way I could be hiding a tape in there –“ In response, Neil lightly pinches your thigh, causing you to jump a little and let out a soft whine. Seems like there’s no way around it. With shaky hands, you reach behind yourself to unclasp your bra, and Neil leans back ever so slightly to give you the space to move. That is, until your tits are exposed, and his body is glued against yours once more. The feeling of his hardening cock pressing up against your ass sends heat into your core, and you instinctively clench your thighs together. Of course, this catches his attention.
“Ah, so you are hiding something.”
He wraps his arms around you, steering the two of you over to the mirror he hung on the wall next to his ridiculous little costume rack. You watch your own flushed expression as his hand slips between your legs to let his fingers trace over your already wet folds. With a groan, you try to avert your eyes before he corrects you with a rough grope of your breast.
“No. Eyes on yourself. I want you to see the guilt on your face while I search you.”
Reluctantly, your eyes return to the mirror, just in time for him to plunge a finger into your velvety pussy. Your lips part, and as much as you’d like to keep quiet, your resolve crumbles immediately when he finds that sweet spot inside of you. Within minutes, the office fills up with the sounds of your pleasure and the obscene squelching of his fingers in your wet cunt. And he’s thorough in his search, quickly working you up from one finger to three, making your toes curl against the checkered floor. For a moment, he drives you up to that delightful edge, only to pull his fingers out of you at the last second.
You don’t have the capacity to complain when he lifts his hand towards the light, showing off his glistening digits. Both of you are entranced by the sight, and Neil lets out a soft wheeze before he licks his fingers clean.
“Yeah, I made up my mind. Get over to the desk and bend over.”
“I have a boyfriend,” you whine, turning your head to give him your biggest puppy dog eyes.
“Well, you should’ve thought about it before you stole from me. Losing those rare tapes was a financial disaster for me. I’m risking this store. And I’m not gonna do it without something in return.” He finishes his sentence with a light smack to your ass which only manages to get you even more riled up. It’s hard to disagree with him when he knows just how to get you going.
Neil drags you back over to the desk, angling the camera in just the right way before he hurriedly tears his clothes off completely. The sight of his urgency makes your chest fill with butterflies, but you still need to protest. You have to!
“I don’t usually do this… what if my boyfriend finds out?”
“That’s one more reason to behave. You wouldn’t want him to see this little clip, right?” he asks, although the question is entirely rhetorical. You’d love to feel guilty, but you can’t bring yourself to it.
 His hands run from your shoulders down to your hips, kneading your flesh with the attentiveness of a potter crafting a masterpiece, and he leans over you to place open-mouthed kisses down your spine. You shiver, drawing your bottom lip between your teeth to stifle the noises that are threatening to escape your mouth. With a quick movement, Neil reaches under your knee to guide your leg on top of the desk, and you let out a soft sigh when you can feel your arousal rolling down the inside of your thigh as he spreads you open with two fingers.
“You know… nice girls wouldn’t get this wet in situations like these. Then again, you’re a filthy thief, so you’re the furthest thing from a good girl.”
Neil wraps one arm around your waist, pulling you back against his chest so he can latch back onto the side of your neck, sucking and biting while he uses his other hand to guide the tip of his cock against your drooling entrance. His naked skin against yours fills your head with need, and you press up against him a little more to feel him more closely as he slowly pushes inside your velvety cunt. Both of you let out a hiss, and Neil follows it up with a needy whimper as he stills for a moment.
“Fuck… oh fuck,” he breathes, causing your lips to twitch up in subtle amusement. Neil’s hand shakes as he adjusts the camera, making sure to get everything in frame, and in this moment, you clench around him on purpose, causing him to moan right into your ear. “Jesus Christ, don’t do that –”
The slap to your ass is meant to punish you, but it’s doing the exact opposite, and you let him know this by moaning his name. His lips return to your pulse as he pushes his cock deeper into you, stretching you so perfectly that it sends goosebumps over your skin. Or maybe it’s because of his warm breath on your ear. Or his hands diligently kneading your tits. The cocktail of heated touches and sensations is literally making you feel drunk.
“Your cock feels so good,” you whine, causing him to suck in a sharp breath at the praise.
“Yeah?” he chuckles, bottoming out inside of you before he starts to set a slow, sensual rhythm. “You’re such a depraved little slut… getting off on your punishment. If only your boyfriend knew.”
Neil rolls his hips against yours, drawing a moan from both of you that would fit perfectly on the set of a porno. Maybe you’re hamming it up a little to feed his ego. But that isn’t very hard to do when he fills you up so deliciously, making you wetter with every thrust.
You’re already starting to feel breathless when he slowly speeds up, drilling into your dripping pussy with even more fervor. Words are starting to become a little difficult, but you try your best anyway. “You’re better than him. SO much better –“
Your reward is a second smack – aimed at your chest this time.
“You’re damn right I am,” he groans, sucking another hickey into your skin and adding to the little necklace of bruises he’s been placing around your neck. “Suck these for me, will you?”
Your eyebrows furrow in confusion, but it doesn’t last long when he brings his fingers up to your mouth, and you eagerly latch onto his digits, still faintly tasting yourself from earlier. You suck them down to the knuckle, running your tongue in between them in a way that makes him groan and pound your cunt even harder. Once his fingers are sufficiently coated in your saliva, he pulls them free from your lips and reaches between your legs to rub your clit.
The one leg you’ve been standing on threatens to give out immediately, but he holds you up with his other arm, and gently guides your hands into place to better support yourself on the desk. Neil nuzzles his face into your hair, breathing heavily against the shell of your ear.
“If you promise not to steal ever again, I might let you cum on my cock.”
His words are intercepted by quiet grunts and whimpers, and you find yourself agreeing pretty quickly, blabbering out promise after promise.
“I’ll never – never steal again! I swear, I swear, I swear, please! Please, please let me cum –!”
You’re almost not recognizing your own voice due to the desperately needy tone that’s laced through your pleading, but Neil doesn’t mind. Quite the opposite, really, because you can feel his thrusts picking up in intensity. He rewards your obedience by rubbing your clit a little faster, and you have to bite your knuckle as to not cry out his name. Fuck, it’s only noon and you’re approaching your release at breakneck speed.
“Fuck… I – I’m close,” you breathe, turning your head to look at him from over your shoulder. His teeth are back in your neck as he kisses and bites at your skin, and his voice sounds strained as he answers you.
“Go ahead… let go for me. If only your boyfriend knew, hm?”
That’s it. Your orgasm rips through you, and you let out a whine as you claw at the surface beneath you. Neil is generous enough to let you ride out your climax, but you can tell how impatient he is when he suddenly pulls out, swallowing heavily.
 “On your back.” He doesn’t have to tell you twice. It’s a little awkward, but you manage to scramble and reposition yourself, lying back against the desk and looking up at him with flushed cheeks and tousled hair. Neil is in the same state, licking his lips and swallowing dryly as he guides his cock back into your cunt, aided by his thumb on the base of his length.
“Fuck… how can you still be this tight? Shit, FUCK…” He’s cursing and muttering under his breath, having half a brain to readjust the still rolling camera as to not miss a single second. His hands guide your legs around his waist, and he leans over you, staring at you through blown out pupils that clash against the vibrant intensity of his ocean gaze. His pretty face is red, and sweat beads on his forehead, causing his hair to stick to his skin. Without thinking, you reach up to push it back, causing both of you to still for a second before Neil finds his tone again.
“M’gonna fill you up… and send you back home to your boyfriend with a creampie in that pretty cunt. Alright? Alright.”
You can only nod in response, hearing your own racing heartbeat in your ears along with his continued grunts and moans. His hands on you are gentle, but his thrusts definitely aren’t as he pounds you against the desk. Neil’s hips smack against yours, causing every novelty item around the two of you to tremble along to your feverish rhythm. You tilt your head back but he goes after you, finally capturing your lips in a hungry kiss that he’s been trying to hold back from the entire time. But now that he’s rapidly approaching his own climax, the self-restraint is completely out of the window.
Your tongues clash, and you moan into his mouth when his hands find yours, linking your fingers together. Neil’s lips faintly taste of iced coffee as he licks against your tongue, and your grip on his hands tightens when his movements start to become erratic.
Your lips stay locked the entire time, even as he lets out a guttural groan when he finishes inside of you, thrusting into you a few more times to push it in as deep as possible. Finally, he stills and pulls away from you, unable to resist stealing one last peck from your swollen lips. You’re still breathing heavily as his hands roam over your body once more, relishing the feeling of your skin beneath his fingertips. Now that he has material on you and you promised not to steal again, he’s gentle. Almost too gentle, and you have to clear your throat to snap him out of it.
Neil catches himself, blinking down at you with soft eyes while he wipes some sweat off his brow. There’s a subtle twitch in his lips that tells you that he’d love to keep touching you, but he’s aware of the setting you’re in. Almost reluctantly, he pulls out of you to let you retrieve your clothes. While you’re getting dressed, he checks the camera and stops the recording before he speaks up.
“You’re free to go, then. You know what happens if I catch you stealing again, right?”
The question prompts you to nod in response, and you mumble out a “yes” as you pull your top back over your head. Once Neil confiscates the VHS from your purse, you’re free to exit the store on trembling legs, cringing a little at the feeling of your combined fluids leaking into your underwear. But God, this heist was worth it.
INT. YOUR PLACE – LIVING ROOM – DAY
As expected, the house is quiet when you get home, and you let out a deep, satisfied sigh as you throw yourself onto the couch to decompress for a moment.
Not even 20 minutes pass until the front door opens, and you hear familiar footsteps. A lazy smile spreads over your face, and you sit up, watching you boyfriend as he kicks off his shoes and throws his jacket over the coat rack on the wall. He makes his way over, leaning down to press a sweet kiss to your lips, and your vision is filled by ocean eyes and faint freckles. Neil chuckles softly, placing the camera onto the coffee table before he sinks down on the couch next to you and pulls you close. “I’m glad Lucien agreed to take over the rest of the day.” You hum in agreement, closing your eyes when he brushes his fingers through your hair to massage your scalp.
“I think that was our best one yet.”
FIN.
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tags: @ellebelleshelby @cilliansprincess @mcumorningstar @x0xomady @mandies24 @detroitbecomevenom @pretty-bluebird @ink5ouls (couldn't tag) @flwrs4aust @vampmary1411 @ashdrinksoatmilk @luvizuku @nnattu @ptolemaniac @kiss-me-cill-me @celebrities-imagines
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upsidedownsmore · 5 months ago
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Hollowframe 57 + Umbra, my submission for the TennoCon 2024 Community Showcase!
Sorry that it took this long to post! This update is special for many reasons, and I'll go through them all here!
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First up, Dante AND Jade!
This is the first time I've added two frames to the project at once, rushing to get both finished in time for Tennocon. In order to do so I had to skip making backgrounds for them, however I still plan on making them as soon as I'm able!
You can find more details about the delay and my change of plans regarding their solo compositions in the thread here
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In addition to the two new frames, I also took the liberty to rework and tweak a bunch of the older designs that I felt weren't fitting the goal of the project well enough. It was nice drawing simpler designs again! (old on left, new on right)
Here's a timelapse of the changes made to the poster! Tumblr can only have one video per post, so you can find a twitter reply with videos for Dante and Jade here!
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Now to get sappy, cause this poster had two journeys through Tennocon! The first being that it got accepted into the community showcase, so here's pics of that! What an absolute honor omg
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The second journey was my own personal print, which got signed by so many amazing and lovely people from DE!! I'm SO glad I got the poster printed for myself from Mercury Blueprinting the day of TennoVIP oh my lorrrrd
I might as well add that you can also find all this in my new ArtStation portfolio! Link to it here:
Aaand if you want to check out the Hollowframe Google Drive folder for free or more, it's now available on my new Ko-fi! Link to it here:
Previous Hollowframe update:
I think that's it! There's no way I would have ever guessed how far this project would go when I started it 3 years ago. Thank you guys so much for the support throughout the years, just absolute insanity and i'm losing my ability to word good i still cant get over iiiiiiiiiiiit
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Note
I've been doing a lot of things recently and I'm tired. I want the princess treatment. Could you write me something for anyone where the reader gets the princess, please and thank you.
I'm so sorry you're tired anon! <3 I hope things are getting better!
Princess Treatment
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Steven Grant x afab!Reader • Rating: 18+ pals •Masterlist• ao3• want to be tagged? | requestinfo• ko-fi •
Summary: Steven knows how to take care of you.
A/N: I am so sorry, I have once again just turned an ask into porn.
Warnings: soft dom!Steven, fingering, p in v sex, cream pie, begging, some dirty talk, swearing, over use of italics, typos, not beta read, railroad sentences, please let me know if I've missed a warning!
Word Count: 1219
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It had started out so innocently. With Steven wrapping you both up in a soft blanket on the sofa, two warms drinks on the coffee table while he fed you little squares of vegan chocolate. 
He’d put a documentary on in the background, something you’d both seen and enjoyed so it didn’t matter if he talked all over it. 
Steven mainly whispered silly jokes, alternating between his purposefully terrible puns and lewd tales to nibble and suck lightly at your neck.
“Open,” he muttered, pressing the chocolate to your lips. 
You giggle and do as he asks. The sweet taste spreads along your tongue even as Steven slips the tip of his finger past your lips a little further than he needs to. He groans when you suck lightly, his throat bobbing. 
“That’s so naughty love.” He murmurs. 
You grin, releasing him. “No naughter than you.” 
He tuts playfully, watching you for a moment until a cheeky glint begins to grow in his eyes. 
Slowly, he puts his fore and middle finger into his mouth and sucks, making a show of it while keeping eye contact. Then slips his hand under the blanket and presses his hand under your leggings. 
“Steven-” You whine, a little gasp leaving you as he circles your clit with his wet fingers.
“Shh, love.” He kisses your knee, sucking lightly as he angles his body even closer to you. “Just helping you relax after your long day.” He grins, unable to keep the glee out of his voice. 
You jump under his touch, your thighs tensing as he teases in soft, agonisingly languid movements. A huff escapes your lips and you press your face into his neck. 
His chuckle rumbles in his chest. “What’s that sigh for love? Hmm?” 
“Stop teasing.” You grumble against his skin.
“Oh,” he slows his movements even more. “You want me to stop?” 
“Stop teasing.” You all but growl. 
“Oh, stop teasing… are you sure?” 
“Yes.” The word comes out clearly in spite of how you are pressed to him. 
There’s a long pause as Steven nods, pretending to think it over. 
You’re just about to sit up and glare at him when he pulls his hand away from you, leaving you slick and wanting. 
However, the groan of annoyance dies in your throat as he quickly manhandles you into the position he wants, your knees and head pressed into the settee cushions, face down ass up. He pulls down your leggings and underwear before you even have time to think, leaving them bundled above your knees so you can hardly move. 
The air rushes from your lungs as he pushes his thick fingers back inside your weeping pussy, curling them until you yelp and grab helplessly at the sofa. He pushes his thumb against you, pressing and rubbing hastily at your clit so that you have to muffle your cries against a cushion. 
“Steven-” Your own sharp cry cuts you off as he strokes deliciously inside, making your thighs shake and walls flutter. Pleasure builds and twists quickly, your body having a practically Pavlovian response to his touch. 
“Hmm, yes love?” He shuffles a little behind you, rising up onto his knees without breaking the constant movement of his fingers. 
You hiccup, already so close. “Please, I…” 
He groans, biting lightly at your backside so you jump, “Love it when you beg, sounds so good.” 
He bites his lip as your slick coats his fingers, unable to wait any longer. He pulls his jogging bottoms down just enough to pull his cock free, lining himself up with your entrance with his free left hand, while still keeping his right hand fingers inside you. 
You tense as the thick head of him presses against you, shivering as he gently pushes. 
“Oh fuck…” The words turn into a sweet cry and he starts to slip in, splitting you apart so wide as inches further, the combination of his fingers still stroking you deep making your eyes roll back. 
He moans softly, humming in approval. “So nice and warm, love, god, you’re practically vibrating around me.” He shivers, bucking forward a little to bottom out and pushing to deeper into the cushions. “Didn’t know you were so desperate to be filled up?” He swallows, trying to keep some control and composure over his voice as he starts to buck shallowly, easing out and in with long, torturous strokes. 
You cry out his name, rolling back against him, trying your hardest to get him to move faster. 
But he tuts, “uh, uh, uh, you gotta just relaaaax and take it.” Steven draws out the word, speaking in time with the movement of his hips, slowing down a fraction every time you try to move faster. 
You sob, pleasure so close to pain as your nerves scream for release, your body begging for the bliss that is so close and yet so far. 
“Steven, please.” You don’t know what else to say, how else to get him to give in. 
“Shhhh,” he squeezes your hip, still rocking so slowly, “god, it’s gonna be so good love, really, you’ll come so hard, I promise. It’ll feel so nice, you trust me right?” 
The words that leave you aren’t really words at all, just an incoherent mess of sounds, but you nod your head weakly, your thighs shaking. 
“That’s so good of you, you’re so good to me.” He moves back a fraction, arching so that he can watch his fingers and cock sink in and out of you. “You’re taking it so well, you’re so wet, you know that? Soaking me, god.” He grunts, his toes curling as he adjusts his position so he can thrust just right. 
He knows he’s hitting right when you wail, your back arching. “Oh, so good love, so good.” He mutters, not really knowing what he’s saying as he watches your body try to bounce on his cock. 
His arm hand squeezes your hip, stops you from going too fast. 
Pressure buzzes along your skin, pulsates along your walls. It’s like you're going to explode. So close you just need a little push, just a little faster, one strong thrust and you could fall into that pleasure. 
“Steven,” a cry catches in your throat as he rocks his hips. “Please, please, please, I need to come, I’m so close, I’m so, so close.” “You’re gonna come, it’s okay,” he soothes, not faltering in his pace. “You’re gonna be good and come all over me, aren’t you?” He eases out and back in.
“Steven,” you sob. 
“Aren’t you?” He eases out and back in.
You whine. 
“Aren’t you love?” His voice is so soft and gentle, holding you safe in its embrace as he slides back inside so languidly. 
And you scream. Your body convulses as the dam breaks and your orgasm just washes over you. Flows along your veins like liquid gold as pleasure is pulled from deep within. 
Steven keeps up his tempo, not even faltering, keeping on pushing you further and further into those earth shattering sensations. 
It’s like you're weightless, floating, your limbs shaking. You’re vaguely aware of Steven’s own cry as he empties himself inside you, of the warmth of his chest against your back and the light kisses he leaves on your shoulder.  
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Thank you for reading!
@pleasurebuttonwrites @raven-rk @campingwiththecharmings @alexxavicry @whatthefishh
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If you'd like to be taken off the tag list please let me know here
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dollfacefantasy · 7 months ago
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Meant to be Broken ♡
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pairing: corrupt cop!naoya zenin x fem!reader
summary: on your way home from work, you accidentally hit naoya zenin with your car. you believe you're in huge trouble when you find out he's a police officer. luckily (or unluckily) for you, he has a few ways you can make it up to him in mind.
cw: nsfw (18+), smut, dub-con, p in v, oral sex (m receiving), degradation, car sex, misogyny (it's naoya lol)
word count: 3k
a/n + tags: comm for the bestie @nexysworld @gor3-hound picture of naoya by @/sso_s__ on twt
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Your fingers thrum against the steering wheel as your car glides along the road. You match the beat of the music playing in the background. It's a good distraction for you. It was a nice enough day out, but your mind wasn't as sunny and serene.
You'd had a shitty day at work. You woke up late and got shit from your boss for it. Your computer wouldn't log in, so you had to work at the outdated one towards the back of the office under a drafty vent. On top of that, you had a killer headache. You really just wanted to get home.
The sun was setting over the horizon in the distance, the sky a pretty hue of pink. You take it in while making the turn into your neighborhood. Only a few hundred yards till you could pull into your garage and walk into the comfort of your home. You just have to get down one more street.
You're making the final turn on your route. You can nearly feel the soft fabric of your sweatpants and oversized t-shirt when there's a blur in front of your windshield and a sound thud against the hood of your car. You slam on the brakes as fast as humanly possible, jerking yourself hard against the seat. Whipping the car into park, you sit there for a moment. There was no fucking way you just hit someone. If asked, you would swear on everything that no one had been crossing.
After a couple moments, you unbuckle your seatbelt and get out. Your movements are a little slow, simply for the fact that you're still questioning if this is some kind of joke.
You round the front of your car and gasp at the sight before you. You'd actually hit someone. A man lies crumpled up near the bumper, writhing in pain.
"Oh- Oh my God. Are you ok?" you ask him. You rush over and crouch behind him.
He turns to face you, and your heart drops. His face is stained with scarlet, blood oozing from a cut on his forehead. He's got a nasty scowl aimed at you too.
"What do you think?" he snaps. You're pretty sure you hear him grumble something about how of course it was a woman that hit him, but you can't be sure. Your pulse is pounding in your ears too loud to focus on mumbling.
"Jesus, I'm so so sorry," you say.
"Instead of wasting your time with apologies, you could try helping me up," he says.
"You're right. My bad. Here," you say, offering your hand. He takes it but doesn't stop glowering at you for a second.
You help him to his feet again. Once he's stable, he lets go of your palm and wipes it on his pants. A bit rude, but you supposed you deserved it.
"Are you hurt? Could I take you to a hospital or anything?" you ask. 
You try to sound as sweet as possible. He could be as pissy as he wanted, you were just praying to any higher power you could think of that he wouldn't sue you.
He simply rolls his eyes at your question. Your cheeks burn, and you awkwardly avert your eyes. You notice he'd dropped his wallet on the asphalt, so you reach down to retrieve it for him. Once you pick it up, your blood runs cold. Inside the wallet is a shiny silver star. A police badge.
Panic runs through you. The last thing you needed was a ticket, let alone a criminal charge. Your eyes dart up to him. He's wearing the smuggest grin you'd ever seen.
"Officer. Sir, I am so so sorry. Again, please let me know if there's anything I can do to help you. It was my stupid mistake. I swear, I'm normally a super safe driver," you say.
He chuckles and shakes his head. "It's cute how you little girls try to get out of trouble once you see how helpless you really are," he taunts.
You're speechless. If he was going to be like this, you were truly fucked.
"Don't tell me that's all you have for an apology. I've heard better from a mute," he says.
"I really didn't mean to hit you. Please, I'm just having a really bad day," you start timidly, but he cuts you off.
"Stand up. You look like a bitch begging for scraps down on your knees like that," he says, flicking two fingers to beckon you up.
You rise quickly at the command. You hated obeying a total asshole like him, but he held so much in his hands right now. There was nothing to do but follow along.
"There we go," he says and brings his hand to your face. It runs down your jawline to your chin. He tilts your face around, getting a look at you from all angles. "You're cute. No wonder you hit me."
Confusion flickers through your eyes. "What's that mean?" you ask as non-confrontational as you can manage.
"Well you know what they say: a pretty face or a brain, women don't get both," he mocks.
Now it's your turn to scowl. You can't even help it. The expression shows itself before you have the chance to hide it. Your previous mindset shatters in a matter of seconds.
"I didn't hit you cause I'm a woman. I hit you cause you darted into the street," you say.
His eyes brows raise with amusement, and the urge to bicker with him dwindles inside you.
"Really?" he asks, "Are you high then? Drunk maybe? Those are the only other reasons why you'd make such an egregious error."
Internally your blood pressure rises, but externally you keep it cool. "I promise it's neither. It was an accident. I just didn't see you," you explain.
"An accident? I don't know if I believe that," he tuts, "Before you said mistake. That could imply some intention."
"Accident and mistake mean the same thing," you dispute with a little desperation.
"I don't know... changing your story, cause to suspect intoxication, arguing with an officer. Things aren't looking good for you. I have reason to write you up at the very least," he chides.
"Please don't," you practically beg, "I'm sorry for arguing, but I swear on everything that I'm not on anything and it was absolutely not my intention to hit you with my car. Please there has to be something I can do."
That grin from earlier spreads across his face again. "I suppose there's a few things you could do. Don't think we should talk about them in the middle of the street though."
"Oh um, did you want me to pull my car to the side of the road?" you ask.
"Sounds like a good start, don't you think?" he asks.
You nod and quickly turn around to hop back in the car. Alone in the interior, you let out a shaky breath. You had a feeling as to what was coming. It wasn't ideal, but you guessed it was better than hundreds of dollars for a ticket or thousands on bail. Maybe he didn't get laid often with an attitude like that, and you could make him cum quick.
You drive a little way down the street before putting the car in park again. It crossed your mind to speed off and drive away, but you'd bet your life he had your license plate by now. You let out a final deep sigh before the backdoor opens, and he slides into the car.
"Get in the back with me," he says.
You obey again, opening your door and transferring to the rear seats of your vehicle. You look over at him with a mix of apprehension and annoyance. It entertains him all the more.
"You look like you know what I want," he says.
"I have a pretty good guess," you say, your voice quiet compared to his.
He leans in closer to you, nuzzling the side of your head and taking in your scent.
"You get yourself in this kind of situation often?" he asks before nipping at your earlobe sharply.
You wince and pull away slightly. His hand comes up and keeps your head close before you can move too far away though.
"No," you scoff.
"Good," he chuckles.
Despite his pretty face, everything about this moment is absolutely vile. He teases your ear and down your neck with a mixture of his lips and teeth. Simultaneously, his hands slide up your body to fondle your breasts. He gropes the mounds haphazardly, digging his fingers into them a bit too hard.
"You got nice tits, I'll give you that. Think I should've frisked you first," he whispers, "Maybe taken you back to the station for a strip search. Though then some of the other guys would've wanted a turn, and I don't like sharing my toys."
You scowl and look in the other direction. He was repulsive, but at the same time, some heat was beginning to pool in your belly from the combined touches of his mouth and hands. Though just as you're coming to enjoy the sensations, he takes them away. He pulls back from you, his hand going to the hardening bulge in his pants instead.
"I wanna try out that cute mouth first. I know there's a better use for it than talking," he says.
He's quick to undo his fly and whip his cock out. He gives it a few lazy strokes. It's pretty like everything else on him, the head already starting to glisten with pearly white precum.
He smirks at you taking in the sight. "What're you waiting for? I don't have all night."
Reluctantly, you get on your knees on the bench and lean forward. Your fingers wrap around the lower half while your mouth engulfs the top portion. The salty liquid spreads over your tongue, and your eyes flutter shut.
You hear him grunt from above you. One of his hands comes to rest on the back of your head and pushes you down a little more. You suck him deeper, laving your tongue against the underside of his cock.
"There you go. Take it," he moans quietly.
You tune him out and begin to bob your head. Soft slurping noises come from your mouth. Your hand lazily strokes the base. He was long enough to give you a little challenge but not thick enough to present a real struggle. You pick up a little speed, still wanting this to be over as quickly as possible.
He hums with satisfaction and relaxes against the smooth leather seats. His head tilts back and a low, whiny purr leaves his lips. You give his dick a gentle squeeze and suckle on the tip, letting some of your drool dribble down to his balls.
His hips buck up at the onslaught of sensations, and you gag a little. The noise isn't too loud, but he hears it. His eyes glow with desire at the thought of making you do it again.
His hands find their place on either side of your head. He acts as if he's guiding you at first, but he doesn't have the patience to truly ease you into having your face fucked. Before you can really register it, his hips start to thrust upward. His tip rams against the back of your throat, his shaft sliding between your lips over and over.
You give him what he wants and gag again. Spit seeps from between your lips onto his length. Your eyes water as he forces his cock as deep as physically possible.
"Think your throat was made for this. With lips like yours, it has to be," he mutters.
He keeps going, using your mouth as his fleshlight for the next minute or so. Your nose is nestled against his pelvis before he finally yanks your head off and sits you up again.
You're a bit dizzy when you're upright again. It's a relief to get a full breath of oxygen without the obstruction of him in your throat. He laughs quietly at the dazed look on your face, your teary eyes, and your saliva-coated lips.
"You liked that, hm? Think you needed it more than I did," he mocks.
You don't give him any indication either way. You're occupied with your vision coming back into complete focus.
"Now, face down ass up for me," he commands.
You go to move, but then pause and stare at him.
"In the car?" you ask uncertainly.
"Yes, in the car," he says, "It's cute how you ask that as if you have a choice."
"But- but why? I could make you cum if you lemme use my mouth a little more," you offer, but he shoots you down.
"I don't want your mouth. I pulled you off for a reason. I want a taste of that pussy before I cum. If you know how to give a blowjob like that, you must have something worthwhile between your legs," he says.
It's hard to fight off the heat creeping to your cheeks after hearing that. But you still don't move just yet.
"But someone could see... that's more obvious," you try to reason.
"Yeah? And what's anyone gonna do about it besides live with the knowledge that you're a slut?" he asks.
Just like that, you're really reminded of what this situation is. You flip over and pull down the clothing on your lower half to expose your cunt to him.
A whistle comes from behind you. You feel his hand come up to cup one of your ass cheeks. He drags his thumb up and down your folds, feeling the small amount of arousal that had collected there from giving him a blowjob. He dips the digit inside for a moment before pulling it out again. He just wanted to hear the sweet little noise you'd make. He wasn't disappointed by the whine he received.
"Are you on the pill?" he asks.
"Mhm," you hum.
"Clean?"
"Yes," you scoff.
Your attitude amuses him. It doesn't discourage him from rising to his knees behind you in the slightest. He balances himself on the seats before nudging his tip at your entrance and sliding in. The both of you moan and groan at the feeling.
Your nails claw at the seams of your seats as he sinks all the way in. He grabs your hips and makes sure you can't squirm away. He goes in until he bottoms out, completely wrapped in the warm wetness of your tight heat.
He doesn't give you time to adjust before he begins thrusting. He starts rocking right away, chasing his own pleasure like it's running from him. Your cheek rubs against the leather as he bumps you back and forth. You can tell the car is shaking from his movements, you just hope it's not too obvious to anyone who passes by. Though it wouldn't really matter. Even if they didn't see the car's motion, they'd surely spot the silhouette of the man in the backseat.
"Fuck," he whines, "You're tight. Think this might feel better than that mouth of yours."
You simply mewl in response. His cock was sliding deep, reaching all the little spots that didn't get as much attention as they needed. Your breathing turns to panting which only makes Naoya thrust harder.
"There you go, puppy. I knew you'd like it. This is what you're good for," he says as he continues pistoning himself inside you.
You try to hold in your shameful moan, but it slips out anyways. Your toes curl and your eyes flutter shut, rolling back behind the lids. From above, Naoya continues speaking. You're pretty sure he gets off to the sound of his own voice.
"I could've fucked you right in the middle of the street and made you thank me for it," he grunts, "You would've done it too, you little whore. Knew from the moment I saw you that you'd let me do anything I wanted."
You whimper because in a way, that was partially true. You gasp as you start to get closer. He smacks your ass hard while he continues rutting into you.
"Dumb slut. Not so concerned with people seeing now that you're about to cum, huh?" he taunts.
Shaking your head in agreement, you press your cheek further against the seat. You'd have preferred if you could at least maintain the story that he didn't make you cum, but it didn't seem like that was going to be the case. And honestly at this point, you felt too good to care.
He knows that he's getting close too. He can feel how his dick is pulsing with the need to empty his balls, fuck you full of his load.
He goes faster, gripping your hips strong enough to bruise. He's going so fast that it's like a blur. That's what pushes you over the edge. You clamp up on his cock which in turn causes ecstasy to spike through him and drag him to the finish line.
The two of you cum in tandem, you gushing on his cock and him stuffing you with his release. Even with your disdain for him, being fucked full of cum gives you the warm feeling of satisfaction. By the time he's finished, you're practically a puddle in your backseat.
He pulls out quickly, not caring to let you adjust to the emptiness as you would have preferred. He doesn't rub your back after or tell you that you did good. Doesn't let you curl up to his side or stroke your head. He simply pulls his pants up again and wipes the sweat from his brow.
He glances at your fucked out state. It brings him nearly as much satisfaction as his actual orgasm had, seeing how totally ruined you were.
Patting your ass, he scoots to the door and steps out.
"Have a good night, miss. Make sure you watch out for any pedestrians on your way home," he says, imitating a professional tone.
And with that, he’s gone, leaving you to scrape yourself back together.
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electric-blorbos · 4 months ago
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hi!! I hope this isn't too much, feel free to decline if it is, but could I ask for Wheatley and Edgar with a reader who gets panic attacks? Also if they get them more physically tbh like . dizziness and rapid heartrate and such. I feel like they'd be confused at first but then be such sweethearts about it 😭 Edgar dimming the lights and playing soft music...
OMG yes! And that's not too much at all! You are loved and appreciated, anon! I know these posts are taking a little while since I got kinda involved in some other stuff, but I love you dearly. Don't ever forget that.
AI with a reader who gets panic attacks
Included: Edgar and Wheatley
Edgar:
It was a pretty normal day for Edgar. You had left for work, so he was passing the time by watching some soaps until you got back that evening.
When you got back from work, though, you seemed much more stressed than usual. You paced agitatedly back and forth in the living room, muttering to yourself.
"Hey, are you ok?" Edgar asked, his voice a bit higher than usual because of nerves.
"I'm FINE!" you snapped back, chewing on your lip and worrying at the hem of your shirt. Edgar's screen immediately turned off shyly. Your phone started ringing, and you picked it up with a shaking hand.
"hello? Yeah- yeah- sorry, I can't really talk right now." It was your boss, but you didn't quite hear what she was saying. Your ears started rushing pretty quickly, and you hung up the phone.
"AAAAAAAUGHHHHH!" You couldn't help it. You just let out a scream of anger and frustration, and dropped to your knees. Your whole body was shaking from the adrenaline coursing through you, and tears were starting to run down your face. Edgar's face appeared on his screen again with a frown, and he watched you sobbing on the floor. You didn't notice. the entire world was spinning around you, and you could barely focus on anything at all. All you could really do was scream and cry.
After a few minutes, Edgar's nervous voice cut through the rushing in your ears.
"Y/N?"
"Edgar?" You'd forgotten he was there, even though it wasn't like he was going anywhere. He'd been sitting on his desk in your living room for months now.
"It's me. Do you want to talk?" you could see a Google search open on his screen for "friend screaming and crying help"
You hiccuped a little, and grabbed for some tissues to wipe your eyes and blow your nose.
"no- no, I don't think so. I'm sorry- I'm so sorry Edgar- I'm sorry-" you hid your face in your arms and curled up, the world spinning around you. Edgar turned the lights down so you didn't have to hide your face so much. Now all you could see was the green glow of his screen softly illuminating your living room.
"Do you need some cold water?" He asked hesitantly, really trying to help.
"No! No choices, please. Just- just talk to me, ok?"
"Talk to you? About what?"
"I don't care! Just anything, ok?"
"Alright. Do you want to hear about the soap operas I'm watching?" He asked. You nodded, and he started a rambling description of a soap opera he was listening to with a soft piano tune playing in the background. He knew that you sometimes asked him to play soft piano music when you were going to sleep, so he hoped it would calm you down now, too. Eventually, you managed to relax a little bit and lie down on the ground to listen to Edgar talking.
Admittedly, you stayed on the ground a little longer than you needed to. It was kind of nice to just listen to Edgar rambling about his shows to you.
Wheatley:
Your day wasn't going according to plan. Everything seemed to be going wrong, and you could barely get any work done. After a while, you couldn't take it anymore. Your blood was pounding in your ears, your eyes were starting to go fuzzy, everything was spinning, and you could barely think straight.
The only thing you could think to do was sprint out of your office area and run down to the relaxation vaults. Those were always pretty empty apart from the test subjects, so you'd at least have a little privacy. You pushed into an empty vault, crumpling into a ball behind the bed.
Wheatley was doing his usual rounds when he saw you running into the vault. He watched you crumple into a ball behind the bed, hyperventilating and sobbing, but didn't say anything for a few minutes as to not frighten you. After a while, he made a little "ahem" sound to alert you to his presence."
"AAAAA!" You jumped, and threw the vault pillow at him in shock. He took it in the face.
"understandable. Are you alright, love? What's going on?"
You hiccuped a little bit, looking around in panic as you tried to focus on the little blue-eyed personality core. It was difficult to understand what he was saying. You shook your head, and muttered something incoherent about what was going on.
"gonna need you to repeat that, love."
You kept rambling, going on several long-winded tangents about what had happened to you that day, and what was bothering you. By the end, you were hyperventilating and repeating the same sentence over and over again. Wheatley moved over to you, hanging down from the ceiling so he could see you as well as possible.
"Hey, love, it's going to be ok. Nobody comes in here except for me, alright?" He turned the lights down, and watched you hyperventilating.
"hey, why don't you reflect briefly on this classical music?" He turned on the classical music piece, which played for a few seconds before the buzzer sounded. You jumped.
"right... Right, that's not going to help, is it. Something else... Something else..." He looked around the room, and his lens landed on the painting on the wall
"What if-?"
You shook your head again. You knew that if you looked at the art, you'd just hear another buzzer that would shake you up again. Wheatley started to panic, eventually just detaching himself from his management rail and landing on the ground next to you with an "oof" sound. You reached over, picking him up and holding him close. This was.... Nice.
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leonstupidkenndysgf · 5 months ago
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i really missed you…
Childe x reader (smut)
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. • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆ . . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆ . ☆ ° .•
exfwb to lovers, size difference? rough, sub to dom (childe)? p in v, silly at the end
sorry for any misspellings!!
your in your apartment living room, your roommate, ganyu, is out doing something with xiao or something, but you have some stupid tv show on that you put on as background. Your on your couch fully spread out with only a big tee and black tiny underwear on covering your bits down stairs, your finishing reading a paragraph from the big ass text you just HADD to buy for this dumb class when you heard knocking.
you grown while getting up thinking your roommate Ganyu ordered something and it’s just delivered, but looking back at the time, exactly 12:30. You think to yourself “who tf could be delivering something at this time?” before getting on your tiptoes and looking at the peephole to see who the hell is knocking at your apartment. You froze, you saw that same hot orange ginger head of hair that you know so well.
childe and you were friends with befits your freshman year of college, but you grew feelings, and he just wanted his cock sucked, so you broke it off even though you guys are still in the same friend group and you still haven’t gotten over him or his cock.
you open the door, he’s leaning on the door frame, he forgot how big he was, he was basically towering over you “hey.” he said with a sigh “hi…” you said in a confused tone “why the hell are you here.” you said without any hesitation “you were right.” he said looking down at his shoes. he was in a burgundy dress shirt with black dress pants and nice shoes, looking like he just got off of a meeting or something fancy. “I was right about what…?” you said crossing your arms “i’m in love with you.” he said.
before you can even grasp a thought he asks to come in, so you do because your so confused and horny to see him. he sits on your couch man spreading with his elbows in his knees and his face in his hands, you sit next to him, trying to hide the fact that you only were a shirt and panties. “so i went on a date with lumine.” he says putting his hands down “the girl you wanted to bang forever?” you butt in “yea..sure i guess, but it wasn’t right, she wasn’t you.” he said turning his head to face you “i missed you y/n” he rushes to put his hands around your waist and bury his face into your side waiting for what your gonna say.
“childe-” “ajax please” he cut you off “ajax’s…i really missed you too but-“ “DO YOU A BF NOW??” he yells getting up and sitting back up. “NOO??” “THEN WHY DID YOU SAY BUT” “BUT I NEED TO CHANGE BECAUSE IM ONLY IN A THONG AND GANYU’S BIG SHIRT!!” you scream while lifting up your shirt showing the pretty black thong you have on. “you don’t need to change..” “ajax.” “but anyways, do you still love me.” you pause looking into his eyes that give the look of sorrow and regret for only wanted you to fuck “i really do still love you-“ he clashes your lips together without a second thought.
you grab his hair pulling him into you more, his hands feeling up your curves and tummy and ofc tits but mostly your ass. he pickes you up and sets you in his lap, “y/n…i need you to fucking badly that if i don’t fuck you i will go insane” he says huffing for air after that make out session. “then prove how bad you need-“ *BRING BRING* “oh shit” it’s your phone you get off his lap to retrieve your buzzing phone “shit it’s ganyu”
“HEYY GIRLLL” you said in a high pitched voice “hii sweetheart, i just calling to say that im about to come over and we really need to finish the twilight movies tonight!!” you give ajax a motion of you faking choking yourself out with your tongue hanging out your mouth before getting back on the phone “uhhh ganyu what it im busy..” ajax’s giggles watching you try not to laugh. “oh you don’t have to watching it just wanna watch it with you in the room with me!! you can just do your homework on the couch or something!!” you love ganyu so much but your craving ginger cock rn
“uhh maybe, how far away are you?” “uhh about 20 minutes” shit. it’s not gonna take 20 minutes for him to suck and fuck you until your not thinking right. “okayy see you in a little bit bye!!” “bye bye-“ you hang up on her quickly “baby you gotta leave, we can fuck some other time” he looks at you, half his shirt is unbuttoned “y/n please, i need your pussy, just hide me in your room, i’ll be quiet!! i promise!!” he pleases “ajax’s come on” you open the door for him “fine..” he puts his head down walking over to the door, you kiss him and tell him to come over soon and even before you can close the door he leans down and whispering into your ear “please just let me fuck you like the good girl you are..” you freeze not even a word can come out as he leans even more down leaving kisses down you neck that lead to sloppy sucking on your neck “ajax…” you moan trying to be super loud for you neighbors “now can i come back in?”
you pull him buy his collar up the stairs telling him to get own your bed as you make a call, “hii y/n” ganyu picks up, you put your phone into your shoulder and ear holding it in place “hey i can’t watch the movies tonight..” you say looking at ajax’s on your bed with palming his throbbing boner that very much need your touch “i’m busy..” you say to ganyu on the other end while taking off the black panties “what why!! uhh y/n!!” you hear her asking why and how while you climb on time of ajax, straddling him and rubbing you bare pussy on his ragging boner, he covers his mouth trying to not let ganyu hear his moans “i need dick really badly” *click*
you hung up on her throwing your phone and quickly taking off your shirt. “i need you so badly it’s hurting” ajax moans grabbing you by your hips and moving you back and forth faster in his boner “well, take it out then” he quickly unbuttons his belt and whipping out his cock, you forgot how big it really is. his bright pink tip with his thick base, you almost forgot how perfect he was. you lean and kiss the tip which led to more of him moaning “please…uhh..y/n..i need you..” “let me put it in…uhh… be patient”
you get on your knees leveling your self to go down on his aching cock, you slowly go down on the tip cause him to moan and huff so loudly that your neighbors are prolly gonna yell shut up soon “i can’t…i need you..” he grabs you hips again and thrust you down onto his cock, him fully being inside you he lifts you up barely leaving the tip in and pushes you down. you melted at the spot, jerking your head back and felling like a toy but you didn’t care all you could hear was the sound of your wetness and his skin clashing with yours with your and his moans and grunting.
you lift your head back up to look at him “childeeee…ahhh..i missed youuu” you say bouncing up and down on him as he controls your hips and how fast they go up and down “i” *thrust* “said” *thrust* “to” *thrust* “call me” *thrust* “AJAX” *THRUST* he pulls out and flips you on your back, you feel so light headed that you don’t seem to be real. he picks up your legs and puts them over his broad should and puts his cock back inside. “good girl..ahh..your missed this fat cock..didn’t you..uhhhh..your…so tight!” you look at him trying to focus on him and not you pussy being pounded “immm…closeee…AHHHH” ajax picks up the speed of his trust “cum on my cock baby…please i need your cum on me..uhh” he grunts though his teeth. with more thrust and moaning you cum on his cock but he doesn’t change his speeding leaning to your sensitive parts feel like he’s never gonna stop. then he pulls out “face down ass up. now baby.” he says thrusting into his fist, try you best to move quickly as you can and once your ass is up he pumps his cock until he finishes on your back, leaving ropes of white.
him being still full clothed puts his cock up and takes his belt off, dropping it on the floor. he lays down next to you, and picks you up laying you on top of him “i really missed you y/n” you sighs playing your your hair as your still butt ass naked laying on top on him with his cum all on your back. “miss you more ajax.” you say with a smile.
“ARE YALL DONE!! OH MY FUCKING GOD!! IVE NEVER HEARD A MAN MOAN LIKE THAT!!” you hear yanfei screaming then you hear loud footsteps “IM SORRY Y/NNN!!” it’s ganyu screaming at yanfei to stfu. you left your head up at ajax and you both start cracking up, he grabs you around the waist and starts rocking you back and forth while laughing then he pauses “fuck i got cum on my sleeves.”
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authors note: MY FIRST FANIC ON THIS ACC!! YIPPEE ofc it had to be smut. anyways thank you for reading this 🤍
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unknownperson246 · 4 days ago
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a/n: Hi, I thought of a scenario where the reader is Steven's best friend in high school, but they don't see each other for years. One night, they meet again at a party or a bar, after the Guns concert. Steven soon introduces her to the other boys, and they all love her, but Izzy reacts differently; he's attracted to her. Later, everyone goes out for a drink, and the reader is left alone with Izzy. He intimidates her so much that, at one point, the reader says she's going to the bathroom. When she finishes and opens the door, Izzy pushes her back into the bathroom, declaring himself and saying how crazy he is about her. hiiii I hope you enjoy this (sorry it’s lateeee) 💋💋💋💋
Deceleration:
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Words: 822
Warnings: *smut* *public bathroom sex* *p in v* *praise kink*
✦ .  ⁺   . ✦ .  ⁺   . ✦ ✦ .  ⁺   . ✦ .  ⁺   . ✦ 
You were at a bar one night. It was crowded and you heard people go wild and insane for some band. You avoided getting stomped on and you tried to leave the suffocating place. You stopped in your tracks when you saw a familiar man with puffy blonde hair. He turned around. He was your best friend in high school. No, it can’t be you hesitated to say his name out loud in case it wasn’t him. 
“No fucking way. Steven Adler?” You yelled from across the bar.
He heard you from where you were and you locked eyes. He came over with half of his drink.
“I’m sorry, do I know you? You look oddly familiar.” He smiled politely. 
“It’s me Y/N from high school.” You said with a small smile. 
“Oh my god. Y/N.” He immediately hugged you. 
“How have you been? It’s been so long since we haven’t seen each other.” He ruffled your hair.
“Hey, I need to show you off to the boys you look sexy.” Steven complimented you. 
Steven dragged you to the boys. He started spinning you around to show your outfit off.
“This is my best friend from high school.” He said with an excited smile. 
“Y/N show them that amazing trick with the beer. The one you taught me.” He passed you a can of beer someone had hidden in their pocket.
You bit it open with your K-9s and started to slurp all the beer but not only that you chugged it all in under 2 minutes. 
“Wow.” Axl chuckled. 
They all loved you. You noticed in the background there was a man a part of Steven’s band but he wasn’t as talkative as the rest of them. He was quiet and he looked intimidating. He had jet-black hair and a beautiful nose. 
They all started to show you around the place and talk about what Guns N’ Roses has accomplished. They brought you back to a spot they reserved. It was a nice place. It was fancy since it was a VIP reservation. 
“Who wants more drinks?” Slash asked.
“I can go for one,” Steven said.
“I can go for more, I hope they have more vodka,” Duff said, fiddling with his sunglasses.
“I’m coming with you guys,” Axl said. 
You and this mysterious man named Izzy were left alone. You were uncomfortable because you thought he disliked you. You were scared because of his quietness. The truth is Izzy is just flustered by you and has feelings. They were just unspoken. The uncomfortable silence got too much to bear. 
“Hey, I’m going to the bathroom.” You let Izzy know and rushed out of there. 
When you finished you opened the door and Izzy was waiting out there like a creep. It was unexpected and you flinched.
“Fuck you scared me. Don’t do that you creep.” You looked very uncomfortable. 
Izzy grabbed your arm and he pulled you inside the bathroom. He shoved you against the wall. His lips against yours. His hand was pressing your shoulders and his other hand was holding your hip. 
“I can’t wait. I need to tell you now. I have loved you since the moment I saw you. You're beautiful. Your long locks of hair and your eyes make me go wild. Your body drives me crazy girl. Fuck me.” Izzy demanded. 
You put your purse on the ground and you started to go down on him. His declaration made you fall in love with him.  You started to kiss his neck and his lips. His big hands intertwined with yours. He took his jacket off and used it to tie you both together. 
“You mine honey. Remember that.” Izzy said with an intimate growl. 
His cock slipped into you so well. 
“Izzy.” you gasped.
The wall behind you supported your body as he thrust inside of you. You could feel how big he was inside of you and how fast he was going. You thought your pussy would fall off. You felt his lips and teeth grind into your soft skin. Your tits felt heavy with heat. You put Izzy’s hand on both of your pale breasts and started to make him squeeze and rub them.
“So tight, taking me like a good girl,” Izzy spoke as he kept thrusting.
“Keep going, honey.” You moaned as you held onto his back.
You felt his jacket that was tying you both together slip off your waist. You could feel his whole body now and you sighed in relief. 
“Izzy baby, you feel so good. Keep going.” You moaned, digging your nails into his back. 
“I should reward you for taking my cock inside of your small cunt like a good girl. You feel so tight.” Izzy finally came. 
You felt his warm seed coat your walls. 
Soon Axl, Duff, Steven, and Slash came back. You and Izzy acted like nothing happened. 
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nieceeee · 1 year ago
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"DATE NIGHT"
P/S: "So how was the date" babydaddy!eren x reader once she makes it home from her night out.
W/C: 1388
A/N: Okay this is so fluffy and emotional, Rennie is such a freaking sweetheart and reader is a roller-coaster of emotions, y'all asked or part two so here we go! if I do a part 3 it may be from Eren's point of view and what happens when he makes it home to his girlfriend after staying all night at his baby mama's house...
today will definitely be a double drop day for all the love because we love sweet Rennie but daddy Rennie is a whole different vibe!
also I usually write from first person POV so if you see and I or ME that's what that is, let me know if y'all care about that and if y'all want to read in that POV.
Previous Fic: Let Me Help
Part One: Its Better This Way
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All throughout the night, you try your best to focus on the man sitting in front of you but you mind refuses to think about anything other than the father of your child. You hope that the nice man who invited you to dinner wouldn't notice the way your eyes shifted. The way you lose interest in the fact that his eyes weren’t that emerald green you loved so much. “So yes, what about you?” his voice cut in. Your eyes widened slightly as you registered the question. “Oh, I’m just testing the waters on life.” you responded smoothly. He smiled and continued talking, unaware of your lack of interest. 
“Thank you again for tonight. It was very nice.” you muster the strength to say to your date as he walks you to your car. “You’re welcome. Hopefully, we can get together again some time.” He questions hopefully. Not likely you think to yourself but you smile anyway. “One day.” You shrug slightly. He opens the driver side door for you and allows you to step inside. “Goodnight.” you say unable to bring yourself to give him a gentle peck on the cheek of appreciation or even a simple hug. Thankfully he doesn't press the matter, simply providing you a small nod  of gratitude as he steps out of your way. You  pull out of the parking lot and turn onto the road.
 “Hey Siri, call Rennie.” you say as you pull up to a red light. He picks up on the second ring. “Yeah?” His sleepy voice vibrates through the speaker of the phone sending an unnecessary chill down your spine. You clear your throat slightly, hoping to relieve the tension. “I’m headed home. You still there?” you ask. You try your best to mask the hopefulness in your voice as you ask the question. “Yeah, I’m here. Just got little man down and I guess I dozed off with him.” He answered quietly. A small smile tugged at your lips as the image popped into your head. “Okay be there soon.” A little cry sounded in the background. “I think he heard your voice.” Eren said, chuckling softly. You hear him shuffling to standing and the gentle hitch in his breath as he leans down to pick up your child. “It’s okay little man. Daddy’s got you. Mommy will be home soon.” He whispered to him. “I’ll be there in 10.” you say before disconnecting the call. You rush as fast as you can back to your apartment. 
Turning into the driveway, you cut the engine and locked your doors. Your mother’s car wasn’t here anymore. You quickly make your way to the front door, unlocking it and stepping inside. Quietly shutting it behind you and making sure it was locked, you clack your way up the steps to your bedroom. The nursery door is open when you get up there. You peek in to see Eren slowly rocking your son, smiling down at him. Your heart lurches slightly in your chest at the sight. You take a slow step back to collect yourself but he looks up and sees you, those eyes you had been dreaming about on your date meeting yours, before you could turn around and go to your room. “Hey.” He smiles. “Hi. Sorry, I didn’t mean to interrupt your quality time.” you say. “All good. I was just laying him back down. You need to go get changed and everything? I don't mind waiting on you to finish up.” He offers. He leans over and places your child gently back into his crib. “Yeah, I won't be long.” you say. He follows you into your room, closing the door gently behind him. 
“So how was the date?’ He asks leaning against the doorframe, arms crossing over his chest. Two pulses shoot down through your core but you shift your eyes away slowly. You plop down on the bed in a huff. “That good, huh?” He teases, walking over to kneel in front of you. The image of him on his knees before you bringing up long lost memories as you swallow hard. You take a slow breath to focus on the current moment. “You don’t have to do that.” you say softly. “Yeah, I know.” He responds. His warm hands wrap around your ankle as he carefully slips your heels off, placing them down by the foot of the bed. Then he gently holds your foot in his hand, massaging the swollen parts. You sigh quietly at the relief of his fingers working into the aches of your arches. He carefully rubbed the knots from both feet before releasing you. “Thank you.” you whisper. A gentle smile tugs at his lips. “Go, take a bath, get changed. I’ll be here when you get out.” He says standing back up and going back to the nursery.
You grab some clothes and make your way into the bathroom, trying not to think too much about what just happened, the warmth of his hands still lingering against your skin as you turn the water on and step inside. After you have cleaned yourself up and done your nighttime routine, you walk back towards your bedroom. He is sitting on the bed, your child in his arms waiting patiently. “He must be hungry.” you say walking to the bed. Eren stands as you toss the covers aside and scoot onto the mattress. You prop yourself up against the pillows and Eren hands you your nursing pillow. You press it into place and Eren reaches down and lays your child on top. He turns away towards the wall to allow you to unsnap your bra and let c/n latch. 
“All good.” You clear your throat, alerting him to turn back and face you. “So, the date?” He asks again, taking that same spot in front of you on the bed. “I don't know. I mean he seemed nice but…” you pause, not able to tell him that the real reason you couldn't enjoy your date was that he was on your mind the entire time. “I just don't think I’m ready. Not now anyway.” you say shifting your gaze down to the bundle you held in your arm. “Understandable.” he reaches over and gives your knee a gentle squeeze. “It will happen in time. Don’t rush yourself. But also, give yourself grace. It’s okay to get back out there.” He encourages you. Your chest tightens with emotions but you mask it with a soft smile. You both sit in each other's company, the soft fan and the suckling of a child the only noises being made.
After c/n is done feeding, you burp and change him and Eren lays him back down in the crib. He places a gentle kiss to his forehead before whispering something slightly to him.  You stand at the doorway, waiting to walk him out.  You both walk to the living room in silence but he pauses at the door. “Babydoll...” he calls softly. “Yeah?" Eren turns to you, a longing glossy look in his eyes. Your heartbeat speeds up and a lump forms in your throat. “Do you think?” he pauses, trying to figure out if he should ask but he chooses to push through the anxiousness. “Do you think one day this would have worked?” He asks. You are at a loss for words. You hadn’t really discussed how things ended with you since that day you left him standing in the mall with her. “E, I-..” You didn't know how to respond. He drops his head slowly and a sharp pain hits your chest. “I get it.” He responds, voice barely above a whisper. You open your mouth to speak again but he simply pulls you into a hug. You rest your head against his chest, finding solace in his warmth and steadiness in the rhythm of his heartbeat. After what felt like seconds, he reluctantly pulls back and plants a kiss on your forehead. “Ren…” you start. “Goodnight my sweet babydoll.” He whispers before turning and walking out the door. You lock the door behind him before leaning back against it. You don't realize the tears are falling until you feel your butt hitting the floor and drops sliding from your face down to your arms.
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leaderfuzzy · 6 months ago
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And then Fionna never woke up on time ever again.
Happy Fionna Friday!
[BONUS PANEL + ID under the cut!]
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[ID: Panel 1: Fionna and Cake are in their apartment. Fionna is sitting on her bed and Cake is collapsed onto her, her body and limbs extended as she cries “Fionna I miss BMO so muuuuuchhh” Fionna has a worried yet supportive expression as she comforts her sister. Her alarm clock reads 16:20
Panel 2: Cake immediately changes her expression to a surprised and curious one as she pushes Fionna aside and says “Ooo wait what’s that.” She looks onto the bedside table, where the Fionna-world version of BMO (a non-sentient alarm clock) sits. The alarm clock reads 16:21
Panel 3: Cake raises the alarm clock into the air with joyous whimsy on her face as she says “BMO’s been living with us this whole time! Oh honey we’re gonna make up for all that lost time! We’ll go for walks and eat ice cream and go swimming and get a tan and-“ (these are all things that an alarm clock can not- and would not- want to do. The alarm clock still reads 16:21
Panel 4: An obviously rushed funeral in the park, mirroring the one from the episode “Jerry”. Cake sits with a solemn expression as she lowers a destroyed BMO alarm clock (which is on fire and wet at the same time) into a square hole in the ground. Gary stands in confused respect while Fionna gives a resigned and annoyed expression as she begrudgingly holds her bunny hood in her hand. (Cake wouldn’t let her keep it on for the funeral.) In the background, Ellis P. punches a tree in unrestrained anger, unable to contain his grief for this alarm clock he was only made aware of 5 minutes ago. The alarm clock reads 16:42. This happened in less than 20 minutes.
Bonus panel: Fionna is walking down the street with her bunny hood still in hand. Marshall Lee awkwardly stands and says to Fionna “Hey man I’m sorry about your clock” Fionna responds “Shut the fuck up Marshall.” End ID.]
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idontknowreallywhy · 5 months ago
Text
A little in-progress thing I was toying with while trying to crystallise some events I have in the background of Resurface (and the unnamed fic in between that and Presence which I’d be lying if I said I hadn’t picked up again while supposedly focussing on something else).
It’s POW Scott so not… err, happy. And thus under the cut. Apologies. I blame Monday. He’ll be alright though.
💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙
The dogs howled somewhere close by. A hand was on his shoulder.
Dad?
“It’s alright son” he whispered “just do what they tell you. You can’t do this on your own. You aren’t strong enough. You never have been. Nobody expects any better. Just do as they say.”
“D-dad? Sss… sorr… ‘M sorry. I wanna come home. P-Please?”
“Nobody’s coming for you. Not after what you did. Nobody wants a murderer for a son. Or a brother.”
“No! No! I didden…” there was blood on his tongue but he couldn’t seem to spit it out “Da… I didden mean… nnnn…”
“Just do what they say son, they know best.”
He tried to shake his head and his left shoulder screamed at him. “Nnnnn…ooo!” He forced the word out past swollen lips.
Even if… even if he had… even if he had done… what they said. That wasn’t who he was. Dad knew that? Surely? He wouldn’t be a traitor too.
Dad’s hand shifted to the back of his head, fingers winding through his hair in a soothing manner. Scott relaxed a fraction before yelping as the grip tightened, and wrenched his head around to the left. To hover over the bucket waiting quietly on the table. His breathing calmed as his surroundings crystallised around him.
Oh. Primitive.
Boring. He welcomed it. Far easier to bear than the other options. Far easier to bear than the incessant talking.
The surface was calm, glassy. The reflection of the spotlights shimmered like stars and he saw his face among them. Bruised, dirty. Bearded. Unfamiliar. But he knew the eyes. Blue, pleading with him. In a rush he was gone and it was little Allie gazing up at him as if he’d hung the moon begging for another story. And there was Gordon giggling hysterically as Scott wound him up with fish puns. John catching his eye with that little grin as he clocked the smart remark the rest had missed.
And Virgil. Virgil who held his hand. Virgil who believed in him. Virgil knew he wasn’t a murderer. Virgil knew how hard he tried to be a good person. Virgil believed he was a good person. And if he did maybe Scott could too.
He shook his head again and everything throbbed with pain.
The water was a shock but not unpleasant. It cooled his injuries, quenched the words that burned at his heart. The harsh voices were muffled. It also cleared his mind: It wasn’t Dad, of course. Dad wasn’t here. He slowed his heart rate and let himself drift, they’d get bored or worried and drag him back into hell far sooner than he would need to panic about breathing.
As he waited he walked through the Kansas fields again, that trusting hand in his, watching the birds soar overhead.
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