#this was so hard the quality of the camera was so shit

[danandphilcatboys]

mister phil michael lester do i need to remind you that you are on camera, @astrophilip you asked for this

(while everyone else lost it over dan's touches on phil's face i have literally ascended to the heavens because of this incredibly soft look on phil's face it is literally a split SECOND but once you notice it you'll never be the person you were)

[marcusagrippa]

spotted him in the wild today

[disengaged]

alright anorexia is boring, let’s get yolked

[lusalemaart]

🥛🍔

[lambert-simnel]

Did you know Nana Visitor said in an interview she wasn’t considered a beautiful actress in the 90’s? absolutely insane

I actually had a hard time finding reference images for early season short hair big shoulder pads Kira. I guess they did less promo and the camera quality was maybe a bit shit in early on idk but this is my favourite outfit of hers ever I literally wrote about it for uni once

Anyway I can see definite improvement from my Dax painting, i’m still colour picking from the reference so I might challenge myself not to do that next time. I think this took around 3 hours? I should probably start timing myself

I’m really happy i’m getting better at digital painting but it has made me a little sad that I do so little traditional art now. that being said this is soo much easier to post getting a photo of the VVitch poster was so difficult and it would not scan correctly!!

all art is under #my art ,click for better quality !

[cheriladycl01]

Best Secret Santa - The Grid x Driver! Reader

Plot: in which everyone wants to have Y/N as their secret Santa because she is the best gift giver and never fails to make peoples day by going above and beyond for it!

2017

“So Y/N this is the first year of Secret Santa, how excited are you!” The F1 interviewer asks!

“I’m so excited! I love gift gifting it’s one of my love languages to show people that I know them, and I listen to them!”

“Okay are you ready to open your gift then?” She asks pushing forward a small bag that had presents wrapped up very nicely inside. You take the bag and look at the wrapping paper, it was well wrapped and good quality.

You open the first which feels as if it could be a wooden box but doesn’t really indicate what it could be.

You see that you were correct and a wooden box with your favourite paint brand is there on the top. You unclip the clasp that’s holding the lid down seeing the various paints.

“Oh this is a good present, but not many people know that I paint on the grid.

“Who knows you paint in the grid?” She asks you.

“Hmmm Romain Grosjean, K Mag, Kimi”

“So do you think it could be one of them?”

“Maybe… potentially Kimi, he knows me very well and has really helped me as a Red Bull Junior Driver and in my Rookie Year this Year”

“I think if you open the second present you’ll know who your secret Santa is” she explains and you take the second present of the table, it was pretty weighty but not as heavy as the paints.

“This feels like a book, like a hard back” you say as you start to tear into it. And it was, it was the Romain Grosjean book.

“It’s Romain!! He’s my Secret Santa?” You look at the F1 with a massive wide grin making her smile back at her!

“Wait, come with me” she becons the lady and camera crew to follow her. She walks through the building they are all in, in Abu Dhabi until she finds Romain.

“Romain, Romain wait up wait up” you shout running after him making the camera crew follow!

“Ahhh i see you received my gift!” He exclaims and she pulls him into a thankful hug.

“Please can you sigh it Mr Grosjean, I’m a huge fan of your work in Haas!” You exclaim, handing him a pen making him chuckle but still sign the book he gifted to you!

“Thank you for you time” you giggle before the cameras cut, and they decide to do Romains secret Santa while he is there.

*Flip*

“And now we are here with Lewis Hamilton who we’ve interrupted from getting ready for his Mercedes After Party for his 4 time world championship” the F1 lady smiles at Lewis Hamilton and he kindly smiles back.

“So your Secret Santa went all out, we’ve had to set the cameras a little further back and you’ve got some sizeable gifts here but they requested you read the card first”

“Holy shit” Lewis says as they start to bring in a huge box (big enough to fit the likes of Toto Wolff inside) followed by a smaller bag to the left that had three neatly wrapped presents inside.

“Who, what the fuck” Lewis says looking at the camera as if he was on the office. He looks at the F1 presenter who just shrugs her shoulders and waits for him to open the card.

“Dear Lewis, Here are 4 gifts to commemorate your 4 World Championships! Have a great winter season, and here’s to many more championships ahead! Love, Your Secret Santa” he reads seeing the little doodles inside the card.

“Any ideas on who it could be” she asks.

“No clue, everyone on the grid would know how many championships I’ve won, so this doesn’t give away much” he offers with a laugh. He grabs the bag wanting to leave the big present till last.

“Ohhh a Vegan Cook book, so they know I’m Vegan and a Japan Fridge Magnet. Okay so this is either Max or Y/N as they shared a podium with me, I’m sure off it!” He grins before taking the next present out the bag.

“What is this” he says unwrapping a rather small but oddly shaped present.

“Oh that’s so cute it’s a Dog Collar for Roscoe! Wait, holy shit it’s personalised from Dior. Surely this can’t be Max, is it Max?” He asks and the F1 presenter just shrugs.

“Thank you, this honestly is very thoughtful as Roscoe is one of my favourite things and I love the brand and wear it all the time!” He grins.

“Okay, how about we attempt to open this bigger present. I don’t actually know how you’ll get this through customs”

“I’m scared to see what it is” Lewis laughs before tearing the box open. Inside is a surfboard that is hand painted on either side with Lewis car and many other little doddles to cover the board that has something to do with Lewis.

“Oh woah a custom made board, this must have been really expensive to have made” he says observing it before picking out all the different doodles and talking about them.

“It’s not custom made, your Secret Santa actually Hand Painted this themselves” Lewis head snaps away from the board to look at the presenter in shock.

“Oh it’s got to be Y/N”

“That is correct”

“Y/N you are the cutest. I will use this board today here in Abu Dhabi before I make good use of it in the off season! I’ve never actually had anything like this before so thank you so much, you are so very thoughtful and you have the kindest soul! Thank you for everything and I hope to share a podium with you in 2018” he smiles grinning before turning his attention back to the surfboard.

2018

“Hello Y/N it is now November 2018, after the final Grand Prix of the 2018 season. So you know what time that is!” The F1 presenter asks.

“SECRET SANTA!” You scream, pulling forward the presents, there was a medium sized box in front of you.

“Can I start”

“Of course”

You pulled the lid of the box off and immediately gasp at the first thing that isn’t wrapped that you can see what it is!

“Oh my lord, how - I’ve been needing new camera lenses and a case for mine! I take pictures of everyone around the paddock! So it could be anyone, but I was talking to Max, Pierre and Dani about needing new lenses …” you admit looking to see if the F1 presenter would give you a reactionary hint.

“Oh and there’s a small envelope. I hope you enjoy this retreat with your new lenses, maybe gain a new perspective before 2019” you read out before out of the envelope you pull out flight tickets, and a small cabin hotel booking confirmation for Italy.

“No no no stop this is too much” you say tears filling up in your eyes.

“Who do you think it is” the F1 presenter asks.

“It’s Dani Ric” you cry, the words coming out strained as you look around to see if he is watching you.

“How’d you know” she asks.

“Because we had a talk about how I felt shit about this season and that the Torro Rosso wasn’t built well this year. And how him leaving Red Bull wasn’t an easy choice but it was one he had to make” you sob. The presenter comes over and pull you into a comforting hug rubbing your back and you hug into her more.

“Hey Squirt” an Australian accent comes from behind you and you fling yourself off the presenter and turn to look at the reason for your tears.

“You made me cry on camera” you say pointing to the camera and then your gifts.

“Aw I’m glad you like them! I was worried I hadn’t done well enough!” He grins rubbing your head before pulling you into a tight hug.

“I love them! And I’ll do better next year for you! I promise” you smile and he grins back at you!

*Flip*

“Hello Charles, how are you!”

“I am very good thank you. I see that there is a lot of presents here, all varying in size and it worries me. This is my first year and I don’t know many people that well!” He says looking between all the presents.

“Well here’s the card that came with it” she says passing over the red envelope that he opens the second his gets his hands on it.

“Dear Charlie, hmmm there’s not many that call me Charlie. Amazing first year in Alfa Romeo, can’t wait to see what you do in Ferrari” he reads out thinking of who it could be.

“It’s Y/N for sure. Between the amount of presents here and the note saying Charlie it must be her!” He exclaims before tearing into his first present. There were Alfa Romeo socks, with little jelly snake candies.

“Ah to remember my time in Alfa Romeo, these Candies actually look so good! Thank you!” He says observing the candies.

“This box is small, but heavy” he observes before pulling out a watch box.

“Oh my god, it’s a Ferrari watch. Look at this beauty! I will wear this now I think” He offers showing the camera the Ferrari official watch you’d got him. He places it on his wrist, looking at it before grinning and showing the camera.

“Okay this next one looks very very big, and oh it’s super heavy. I don’t even think I can lift that up”

He starts to tear off the paper, showing a cardboard box with a stamp on top, of what Charles assumed to be the place she’d got it from.

“Antiques Auction House? What is that?” He asks not knowing.

“It’s a place you bid to get rare objects” the F1 presenter grins and Charles looks up in shock. He carefully takes the tape off the lid and pulls the heavy hunk of metal out of the box. He pulls down the bubble wrap to reveal a Ferrari paddock sign.

“Is this real?” He gasps looking it over.

“Yes, maybe take a look at the race it’s from and the year” the presenter asks pushing him to look at the front a little closer.

“Monza 1996, that’s the year I was born! This gift, is so thoughtful and I will put it in my apartment where my sim is so everyone is able to see it when they come over! Hopefully this will bring me luck in Ferrari and in Monza next year so thank you Y/N”

He picks up the next gift which is small and flimsy. He immediately thinks it’s clothing.

As he tears open he holds up the t-shirt bursting out laughing looking at both sides.

On the front it was a radio from his that year printed on saying “woHooooo, Oh Yes! That feels good! - France 2018” and on the back there were words that were printed on there saying “Ask me what happened in France 2018” as a funny sexual innuendo from how crude the radio has sounded with no context behind it!

“This is hilarious and Y/N never fails with these joke gifts. That’s something I’ve noticed, I know this has only been done 2 years now but last year she had two jokey gifts for Lewis and 2 really nice thoughtful ones. This year I have similar! She’s a really good gift giver! She goes above and beyond!”

“She really does! I always get excited, just to see what Y/N gets her Secret Santa each year!”

“I think after this, if they didn’t before, everyone wants her as their gift giver!”

“Okay last gift Charles”

He open up to see a plastic CD cover, decorated by Y/N. He opens it up seeing a note inside.

“For when you finally record something on the piano” he looks up at the presenter and he shows her the cute cover the artistic grid member has designed.

“This is beautiful and I will fill it with tracks I will share with you Y/N thank you again and Merry Christmas Cheri!” He grins.

Y/N definitely spend over her own private budget this secret Santa but she couldn’t help having a small crush on the Alfa Romeo, future Ferrari boy.

2019

“Y/N, you know it’s my favourite time of the year just because you are here serving us once again with your amazing and seemingly limitless gift giving skills. I do have to ask how did you get that Monza pit board”

“Well, my dad is good friends with a Motorsport enthusiast, who has an auction house for Motorsports and Cars, and I won it in August, and was going to give it to Charles as an end or year well done/ Christmas present, but when I got him for secret Santa it made sense to put it in his gifts” you explain.

“Amazing okay so here are you presents for the 2019 season!”

“Oh my gosh I know who this is already! It’s K Mag” you exclaims seeing the pottery set! You’d been saying to him how you wanted to start getting into pottery and how you’d just brought one of the proper stoves to bake them in.

“We spoke about this before, and of course this Metallica Funko Pop would have given it away if the pottery didn’t! Omg I can’t wait to make you and your wife a vase! Thank you so much! I will bring it with me at the start of next season!” You exclaim looking in awe at the two presents in front of you!

*Flip*

“Lance Stroll, I think this year might be your lucky year, you’ve got a decent size bag with three presents” the presenter says cheerfully making Lance smile back.

“I’m excited to see what’s been brought for me! Okay first one obviously we have to open the card and see the message.

“Dear Lance, Starting as rookies together was so much fun! Beating you was even better! Oh it’s either Y/N or Gasly, we all had our rookie year together in 2017!” He exclaims before pulling out the first present which was another envelope.

“You know this is gonna be a voucher of some kind or like, a this was supposed to be your present but it’s not here. What could it be!” He asks opening it up.

“Tennis lessons … WITH ANDY MURRAY? It’s gotta be Y/N right? They are both from the UK, and I’m guessing someone she knows him? How the hell does she know him?” He laughs, he was really into tennis, if he ever had to quit motorsport he would got to tennis as his secondary option.

“This is amazing, thank you Y/N” he smiles genuinely.

“I think him and Y/N were invited to meet the Queen. She wanted to meet Y/N for breaking records around women in motorsport. They’ve played tennis together and she’s driven him round Aintree in her Lamborghini”

“Woah that’s crazy, so they are like friends? Well thank you Y/N and Andy watch out coz I’m coming for you!” He says as he reaches for the next present which is very badly wrapped.

“I think this just be the joke present she gets alongside her good ones” he says shaking it nothing giving away what it could be. He rips it open, to find a mug and a bottle of maple syrup!

“Ah yes as a true Canadian, maple is necessary! And oh a mug”

“Turn it round Lance, what does it say?” Laughs the presenter not actually knowing this was one of the presents.

“It says Daddies Little Boy” he laughs, knowing the joke in the paddock that he wouldn’t ever loose his seat in F1 until he no longer wanted to race.

“That’s hilarious, thank you Y/N I’ll be sure to show my dad this one. Okay onto the last”

He opens it up seeing a James Bond Limited Edition, signed Car from the movies in a mini form.

“It’s so funny, me and Y/N have arguments about this all the time. So they basically got her in Casino Royale as a stunt driver for one scene as she looks like Eva Green from the back. So she will always say that Casino Royale is the best Bond film, but I disagree I think it’s Quantum of Solace! Thank you Y/N for all of this! I can’t wait for my Tennis lessons!”

2020

“What a year it’s been with this virus Y/N and what a stressful year it has been for you drivers. However you’ve had some amazing drives, you had your first win this year with the new name for Toro Rosso under AlphaTauri! And we couldn’t be happier for you. But, your moving up the ranks aren’t you!” The presenter grins happily.

“Yes as of 2021 I will stay in the Red Bull family but move alongside Max into the Red Bull Racing Honda team!” You exclaim! You were so happy to have been given the chance and had worked your but of last year in AlphaTauri coming P5 in the drivers championship. Christian Horner came to you and offered you the seat as you’d done better in the Tauri than Alex in the Red Bull.

“This is just amazing news for you Y/N and we are excited to see what you can do alongside Max Verstappen in 2021!”

“Okay here are you presents for this year!” She says, you pull your mask up a little as it had dropped down as you were talking it repositioning it up and in the correct way.

“These feel like drinks?” You question as you shake the box, when you peel it down you burst out laughing at the crate of Red Bulls in front of you. Everyone knew you were moving to Red Bull so this could literally be anyone.

“Oh my gosh, and Lego Star Wars! LOOK ITS THE FALCON” you yell excitedly. During COVID, you’d streamed alongside Alex, Charles, Lando and George as you liked playing games already and it was more fun with your friends. But you also did streams where you’d answer questions while building Lego’s.

“Guys, Christmas Falcon building stream??” You ask wiggling your eyebrows, however you didn’t know if they’d be able to see them with the Santa hat currently on top of your head.

“Who did you think it is?” The presenter asks.

“I feel like this one is so hard this year, everyone knows I’m moving to RedBull and everyone knew I streamed, and my love for Star Wars” you sigh, a hand rising up to your face in a thinking motion.

“It’s gotta be someone kind and funny. Lando? NO? hmmmm …Dani Ric again? No? Pierre Gasly? NO? Oh my lord, erm I’m not sure who is it??” You ask genuinely having no clue!

“It was George Russell!” She exclaims and you grin widely!

“Thank you so much George! I really appreciate this and I hope you drop in the steam where I’m building it!”

*Flip*

“Max, what a year it’s been for you! Between some amazing races and coming P3, what can we expect from you in 2021”

“Becoming a world champion for sure, I think Y/N moving over to redbull at this time in my career is exactly what I need. She was giving me a run for my money in a mid field car this year, pushing it to its limits every race and outperforming the car. I think she’s going to be competitive and push me further as both a teammate and a rival. I’m excited to have her on board” he smiles nodding.

“Okay so here’s your presents, they are numbered in the order you have to open them in!” She says pushing them forward.

“Okay present one, oh what is this OMG tickets to Moto GP. Beside F1 that is my favourite sport! And it’s during the summer break, that’s incredible! Thank you so much! There’s two so that means I can take a friend I presume! Can I take the gifter?” He asks looking at the F1 presenter who nods, knowing you most likely wouldn’t turn that down.

“Next one! Oooo woah, this is nice, look at this. This one here is me in, Malaysia I think. My first ever face win! Austria in 2018 is here, you can see the Bulk from the Red Bull Ring, oh and here is I think this must be my win in Brazil last year I want to say? And then Abu Dhabi from this year? That race was only yesterday, how did they… this has to be Y/N I don’t know any other person who is this good at art” he says pointing the painted canvas.

“Okay, this is the last one, so this has to be her joke one right?” He asks looking towards the people.

“Read the note here first, now that you’ve worked out who it is” she smiles pushing the letter forward.

“Dear Max, I can’t wait to drive alongside you next year. Or maybe in front of you, we’ll just have to wait and see. Y/N

“I am very excited to drive with her next season. It’s going to be a very close season with the changes I’m sure will occur” he says as he starts to pull from the bag.

“A Y/N pillow, this will travel with me as a travel pillow! Oh and a Y/N signed red bull cap. You’ll be signing a lot more of these next year, but I’m honoured to get the first ever one!” He smiles nodding before looking at the camera for them to stop rolling.

2021

“Y/N, what an amazing year you’ve had a RedBull, coming in P3 and winner the constructors championship for Red Bull, how has the year been?”

“Yeah it’s been phenomenal, driving with Max has really made me push myself to the limits. I think I’m still warming up in the Red Bull this seasons and I made some mistakes which I’ve been focusing on improving each race and I think you can see that in my performance in the second half of the season. I’m thankful to max for pushing me to be a better driver and I’m excited for 2022 with Red Bull, and Honda!”

“Obviously it’s our favourite time of the year! And we are going to be opening some presents!” She says pushing forward a small box. You grin looking at the very precise and very neat wrapping.

You open the box to find one of those cute adopt a penguin with the little plushie.

“Awww it’s so cute!” You exclaims holding up the little penguin.

“And I think there’s a note in there about something else” the F1 presenter directs.

“Hello Y/N it’s your fav mentor. Join me to meet this penguin on a Antártica cruise! K.R”

“KIMI, KIMI, KIMI! No this is too much!” You say looking at the presenter in panic.

“Your idol wants to go on holiday with you! How do you feel”

“Blessed! I’m so happy! I can’t wait to go see the penguins with you Kimi!” You smile, hugging the penguin plushie close to your chest.

*Flip*

“Lando, you’ve got some large gifts here”

“Yeah it’s Y/N” Lando immediately says looking at the wide array of gifts.

“You haven’t even opened at them yet” she laughs.

“No I know Y/N and she’s the only one that puts THIS extensive effort into this! I’ve nailed it tho saying it’s Y/N” he smirks.

“Okay what have we got here” he says picking up the first which is a thinly wrapped envelope.

“Spa vouchers …” he says before shaking his head trying not to laugh and look mock angry.

“I crash in spa, and this is what I get… thanks Y/N. Oh there’s three vouchers. You can Max Fewtrell can come with me. Oh and some … Valorant lessons? Are you saying I’m bad at Valorant, just because your a sweat and your like Ascendent or some shit!” He grins out.

He grabs the next box, small yet heavy. He opens it seeing McLaren x Richard Mille.

“A watch! Woah this … I’m so happy to add this to my collection!”

“And it’s the only one ever made!” The presenter adds making him gasp and look underneath the watch at the engraving. A blush comes onto his face thanking the girl for the watch.

“Okay big box next!” He grins tearing into it.

“Oh Y/N! Y/N” he says with a hand slapped to his mouth.

“Wait no stop” he says pulling the personalised helmet she made him with a note explaining it was for a good start to 2022.

“Thank you Y/N and I can’t wait to wear this next year it’s amazing!” He smiles showing it to the camera finding more and more funny things to laugh to himself about that were inside jokes between the pair of you.

2022

“Y/N the fight between you Max and Charles was so close this year, and you only were a few points behind Charles in the end, taking a storm of a constructors win for Red Bull, so do think you and Charles will have a chance in 2023”

“Yea of course! I’ve renewed my contract with Red Bull until 2025, so I’m very excited at what it will bring!”

“As usual it’s time for the best part of the season! Secret Santa, let’s see what you’ve got this year!” She directs pushing forward the presents in front.

“A bottle of Sake! This will be from Mr Yuki Tsunoda, a Japanese delicacy that he introduced me to this year at the Grand Prix! Thank you Yuki! We’ll have to drink this together!” You smile before going to the next present.

“Oh my gosh, a Bonsai and new tools! This is perfect for my garden in London! Look I have to show you!” She smiles showing the F1 presenter pictures of her garden going off on a rant of where she could place the new bonsai.

“Thank you so much Yuki! Can’t wait to race with you in 23” you smile at the camera.

*Flip*

“Alex! Hopefully Williams has been treating you well” the interviewer smiles happily.

“It has, I think I got a lot out of the car this year which they can learn from in the future! It’s been a year of learning for all of us and we’re happy with the improvements we made” he smiles.

“Well it’s Secret Santa time. Here are your gifts”

“This first one feels like a shirt” he admits feeling up the packaging. He opens it and unfolds the top laughing at what was on the front putting it down and laughing into his hands.

“Show us what you got Alex” she asks. He holds up the gifted top that’s a picture of you and Lily holding hands walking through the paddock looking at each other loving. Above the picture in writing says ‘this woman stole my girlfriend’.

“Lily will force me to wear this, I know it and she will agree with it and come running to the menace of a Secret Santa that gifted this to me! Thank you Y/N” he smiles charmingly at the camera.

“Okay, up next oh? Private golf lessons, with Lily at Hotchkin Course. It says here’s the course is ours for the whole day! Woah, not only will I appreciate that but Lily will also enjoy that day out! Thank you so so much Y/N as usual you are the best!”

“Hand painted golf balls, oh look so this one has the Thai flag on it, this one has the Williams logo on it, this one has a Lily flower on it, okay that’s cute! Look at this detail” he says holding the ball up close to the camera!

“This is perfect! Thank you Y/N and have an amazing Christmas”

2023

"Y/N you and Max have had an amazing season this year and have dominated formula one in Red Bull. You came P2 in the championship, not too far behind Max who won his 3rd championship!"

"Yes, its been an amazing year for us and I'm hoping that next year it will be me winning the Championship!" you grin looking at the presenter.

"Okay, so its the 7th year of Secret Santa on the grid! Are you excited! Because i am!" she says shoving the small bag towards you. You grin excited.

"Yes, okay so ooooo, I know who this is straight away and I think the fans are going to be really happy over this" you grin after you'd peeled the bag back seeing the first gift that was unwrapped and open for the eye to see.

You pull the object out showing hair bleach, toner and little tools and foils, and a note saying that you'll both dye it together and be matching blondes.

You show the camera, knowing fans will not only go wild for blonde Alex, but wild for you finally going blonde after saying for months that you would.

"This is a great gift, and we are going to get Lily to do this for us together!" you smile, before dipping into the bag and pulling the next gift out.

"Steal my GF coupons! OMG finally thank you Alex, i can finally get MY girlfriend Lily back. Guy's seriously when you next pan to her when she's in the paddock, please caption her as Lily Professional Golfer and Partner of Red Bull Driver Y/N Y/L/N. Please I'm begging you!" she laughs and the presenter writes something down on her phone.

"Thank you Alex for these amazing gifts and I will be sure to use both the coupons and the hair dye!" you grin, observing the contents of the hair dye.

"This is a good brand no? Lily must do a good job" you nod, hoping that Lily knows how to dye hair considering Alex's looked good the last time he had it done.

"Yes, its what they use for most of the KPOP Idols in Korea, you know how they dye their hair lots? This is what they use in order to keep it really nice and smooth"

*FLIP*

"Okay, here we have our all time favrioute Daniel Ricciardo, so happy to have seen you driving for AlphaTauri this year. Hopefully 2024 will be a good season for you and we can get some podiums back up there!" she smiles at Daniel who has his typical huge smile back.

"Thank you, lets get down to the real reason we are here! I want to see the presents whoever this is"

"Okay, so ooo a bike helmet. Hmmmm I've been saying to a few on the grid that i need a new one, but this is a really good brand. Okay next one" he smiles moving the bike helmet to one side.

"Ohhhh what the hell, someone has got me Talladega Nights, but they've photoshopped me into Ricky Bobby's place. Look at this. Did you guys get Jensen Button to join in this year?" he laughs showing the camera, the photoshopped version of the popular film among the drivers.

"That's really funny so i bet its got to be one of the young one. Maybe Lando? Or Y/N? or even Oscar my Aussie brother?" he says observing the disk before placing it against the bike helmet leaving it on show.

"A honey badger plushie... okay this is Y/N Lando no way would get me a plushie thats this cute" he jokes.

"Okay last one, holy shit. Do you know how the hell she managed to pull some of these gifts off?? I swear she's the actual St Nick sometimes!" he says looking at his final present. It was an envelope explaining something that you would do for him.

"So she's booked a venue, for her and Heidi in Milan to do a fashion show of my new clothes line that I’ve made in-front of anyone who wants to attend… that’s so thoughtful. Thank you Y/N I’m sure you and Heidi will look amazing on the runway! Thank you and see you on the track more next year!” He smiles.

Taglist:

@littlesatanicassholebitch @hockey-racing-fubol @laura-naruto-fan1998 @22yuki @simxican @sinofwriting @lewisroscoelove @cmleitora @stupidandunnecessary @clayra-g @daemyratwst @honey-belden @moonypixel @lauralarsen @vader-is-hot @ironcowboycopnickel @itsjustkhaos @the-untamed-soul @beebo86 @happylittlereader @ziejustme @lou-larcher5 @thewulf @purplephantomwolf @chasing-liberosis @chillyleclerc @chanthereader @annoyingmoonballoon @summissss @evieepepi08 @havaneseoger08 @celesteblack08 @gulphulp @fandom1ruined2me @celebstories @starfusionsworld @jspitwall@sierruhh @georgeparisole @dakotatankbig @youcannotcancelquidditch @zzonsbeek @tallbrownhairsarcastic @mellowarcadefun @ourteenagetragedy @otako5811 @countingstacksandpanicattacks @peachiicherries @formulas-bitch @cherry-piee @hopexcroc @mirrorball-6 @spilled-coffee-cup @mehrmonga @bigsimperika @blueberry64857959 @eiraethh @lilypadlover @curseofhecate @alliwantisadonut @the-fem1n1ne-urge @21stcenturytaegi @dark-night-sky-99 @spideybv28 @i-wish-this-was-me

[rsatoru]

bbzzzz bzzzzzztttt...

your phone has been buzzing over the coffee table for two minutes. two minutes and 14 seconds.

sigh

you rise from the table—the very table overflowing with godforsaken paperwork the godforsaken higher-ups have assigned you to finish. you’re trying to focus and get everything finished as soon as possible, but the obnoxiously person trying to call you on the phone wouldn’t let you right now.

͏͏⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀toruru !! ^_^ (ate ur cookies) (do not answer.)

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀ringing . . . ✆ ⠀⠀⠀ 1:27 pm⠀⠀⠀

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀answer ၊ decline

of course, it’s no other than your idiot of a boyfriend

clicking the answer button, cause who are you to resist him anyways? . . . “satoru.” you say unimpressed. “baby!! :D” the cheerful voice on the other side exclaims.

“aren’t you supposed to be on a mission right now?”

“uhuh,” satoru scoffs, “’m on the same mission you forced me to go because you hate me so much!”

“satoru, sigh it’s your job, your responsibility. you can’t just ditch an order from principle yaga because you wanna stay at home cuddling me.” you respond

“can’t a man just have some quality time with his dearest girlfriend in peace?” satoru whines over the phone

“toru, baby,”

“fine.. :(” oh, you were so sure you could almost hear his smile turn into a frown. that being said, “why’d you call?” asking, looking back over at your unfinished paperwork, oh the higher ups might just beat your ass.

dating satoru means also having to deal with his long phone calls. you’re aware you could easily just hang up on him, but unfortunately for you, sometimes you don’t even realize you got too caught up in the moment. you love him too much, too much you can effortlessly handle his obnoxiously long phone calls—and he doesn’t even talk about anything important or necessary! and you think, maybe, you’re just as down bad as he is for you.

“oh yeah! heh, sorry babe, your voice made my mind go blank.” — “you’ll never guess what kind of technique these so called first grade cursed spirits have!” and he asks you to turn your camera on—in which you did-

revealing a bunch of cats spawning and jumping everywhere “look at the kind of domain expansion this guy has!” satoru was in an innate domain with cats just swarming the area. satoru called you to show he was in an innate domain with cats just swarming the area. because he knew.

“oh my gosh.” you say in shock. staring at whatever is happening in your screen. “toru toru! bring me one! maybe that one or or-” the cats were so cute. you absolutely loved cats. you adored them, each and every one you’ve ever seen. whether they were strays on the street or pampered pets, they were all just so adorable.

because he knew you absolutely loved cats.

these cats though, were aggressive. aggressively cute though—trying so hard to scratch your boyfriend which was impossible, all attacks were effortlessly blocked by his infinity.

“uhhh, uhhh.. no can do sweets. just look at these sly pussies trying to scratch my glorious face! i can’t let them do that to your even-more-glorious face. they’re dangerous! can’t let them hurt my baby.” he responses.

“uhm, no. you’re just rambling satoru. they’d love me.” you retort. satoru was more of a dog person—he doesn’t know such shit about cats. he doesn’t like them. but you teach him anyways; how to properly hold them, what kind food you shouldn’t feed them, etc etc,

and he actually listens.

“no baby! anyways, you know that guy over there? yeah, him. he can create pizza with cursed energy and throw it at me! it’s surprisingly strong to be fair.. but y’know they stand no chance against me.” there goes his ego as always.

“anyways—what kind of pizza do you want? tell me which toppings and i gotchu baby.”

“so you’re telling me, you’d rather get me pizza, imbued with cursed energy, which you say is pretty strong, but not cats?” you hiss, raising a brow over the phone.

“uhhhh... yeah? ( ' ⩊ '𖦹)”

this is so dumb tbh but i jst had pizza for dinner i couldn’t not think about my glorious king

[myerssimp21]

Tim Drake, Aphrodisiac Victim (YAN!Pt.1)

Romantic!Yandere!Batfam x fem reader. Part 1 Part 2, Part 3, Part 4

It’s easy for him to excuse it, easy for Tim Drake to pretend like he hadn’t intentionally fumbled the latest conflict with Poison Ivy. He could have done more to stop her, but when he discovered her plan and spent days pouring over the ingredients in her new concoction, the holistic quality of her potion calmed his nerves and quieted the anxious parts of him that screamed he would get caught. Ivy was known for several atrocities in Gotham, but she didn’t usually act as aggressively as Scarecrow or Joker with her toxins.

So when Tim Drake definitively concluded her newest potion wouldn’t have any adverse health effects, he was slower than he should have been when she whipped out the perfume bottle and sprayed it at him.

He’d been expecting this; what he hadn’t expected was Bruce yanking him backwards in an attempt to save him from the mist. The Batclaw shot out, aiming for the bottle in her hands but failing to retrieve it halfway through the delivery, the glass shattering on the ground and splashing all over the Bat and Tim Drake.

There had been dizzying action, and then only silence for a moment. Ivy had a shit-eating smile creeping onto her face as she began backing away, keeping her eyes on the two men trying to catch their breath.

“Gentlemen, it looks like you have the night off,” she said with a giggle as she continued to retreat, eyeing her escape route, “maybe make plans?”

“Pamela,” The Bat growls in a dark tone, his anger barely contained over how their mission had gone so wrong, “Give me the antidote.”

She turns to run away and he lunges forward to grab her before his knees buckle under him and he collapses to the ground, catching his balance and hearing her scurry off.

“Batman,” Tim says, feeling the weight of consequences of his actions as he feels his crotch begin tingling, “she doesn’t have one. I checked.”

The silence is palpable as Bruce evens out his breathing and pushes off the ground, using a nearby wall to steady himself, “We need to get to the Batmobile before it sets in.”

Tim shudders as Bruce places a giant hand on his shoulder, concerned both at how hard the big man is taking the dose and at how good the physical contact feels in this state. He hopes Bruce doesn’t feel pleasure at the slightest touch like he does; he’s frustrated since it was supposed to be just him.

Tim Drake was supposed to receive an accidental dose of Ivy’s new aphrodisiac. Tim Drake was supposed to stop by their darling’s apartment afterwards to relieve the strain in his crotch and the desire in his heart. It was supposed to be the best porno he’d ever see; getting the best angles for the cameras discreetly set up at her place earlier that month to rewatch later.

He knew Bruce was smart and Tim only hoped to earn forgiveness for this by making the best home film with you. He also knew Dick, Jason, and Damian would be grouchy he’d gotten to you first and it was entirely possible he’d get just decimated by your lack of interest altogether. Even though you and Tim had become close over the past couple semesters, he could tell you were reserved at times, just anxious or uneasy enough to pull away before anything with lasting complications happened.

The Batmobile had an autopilot feature which Bruce immediately enacted, setting a course for the Batcave. Wordlessly, Tim adds their darling’s apartment complex in as a stop, trying to not get shaky at the thought of getting laid in this state. It’s so easy to add it; all he has to do is press it from the list of saved priority locations in the portal.

“I had my suspicions,” Batman murmurs as he closes his eyes and lays against the headrest, trying to control the sensations in his body, “you wouldn’t have gotten sprayed at that range unless you wanted to.”

Tim says it before he can think in misplaced irritation, “Then why’d you get in the way?”

It’s embarrassing the moment he says it and Bruce says nothing in response, letting the silence sour in the air to make a point.

“What are you going to do?” Tim asks him, too aware of the growing urge to sink his dick into a warm, wet hole. The urge is going to be hard to wrangle enough to talk to her, let alone look normal enough to seem like a regular hook-up.

“I’ll manage,” is all Bruce says, and Tim hopes that means he’ll call Catwoman as soon as he leaves; he suddenly doesn’t like the idea of everyone tuning in at once to the live camera feeds as he tries his hand at seducing you. It feels like lots of pressure, and while Tim Drake is usually phenomenal at working under pressure, he doesn’t want to get rejected in 4k.

Bruce grips the steering wheel tight when the tingles begin in his crotch, trying to distract himself, “I have a change of clothes under your seat. Change before we get to her place.”

~

Bruce makes the call while he can, letting Damian know he and Tim were not going to be able to finish their patrol shift. Damian sounds unimpressed when he asks why and Bruce doesn’t answer him, hanging up.

Bruce goes to voicemail when he calls Jason, and his jaw clenches in irritation. He knows Jason holds more resentment towards him and might murder some criminals if made to do patrol on a night he’s supposed to have off, but Bruce can’t let Damian do patrol alone in the big city yet. He’s also a little concerned that Jason might murder Tim if he hears him with you, so getting him out on patrol is better for everyone.

After calling Jason two more times, Bruce gives up and calls Damian back, telling him he’d send Grayson over. Ever efficient, Damian is already dressed as Robin on the Batmobile’s call screen, his eyes narrowing in his domino mask.

"Father, your demeanor suggests trouble. What went wrong with Drake during the patrol?"

"It's nothing, Damian. Just a minor setback. We handled it."

"Minor setbacks don't usually disrupt patrol schedules. What are you hiding, Father?"

"I'll be back tomorrow morning," Bruce says, ignoring Damian's rude interrogation, "Make sure to stop by the GCPD to follow up with Jack Ryder on-" Bruce's voice falters as he struggles to remember what the story is; his crotch begins throbbing uncomfortably and he feels like the heat is spreading up his torso with each beat of his heart.

"On those cryptic messages left in the GCPD mailbox," Tim finishes for Bruce, leaning in to fit in the camera lens so Damian can see him too. Damian rolls his eyes.

"Your knack for evasion is quite the talent, Father. Maybe it's worth pondering why you choose partners if transparency isn't part of the deal."

With this scathingly cold delivery, Damian ends the call on a sour note. Tim would check with Bruce but their darling lives on the street they just turned down and his heartbeat has begun violently thudding in his chest and in his dick.

"Tim," Batman says firmly before Tim leaves the Batmobile, "stay in control. Scaring her off is not an option."

Tim's trying to not be sensitive about it because after all, it makes sense; if he comes off too strong and scares her, not only is he fucked immediately with Ivy's aphrodisiac coursing through his veins, but he will complicate things for the whole Wayne family. The other part of him, the part being drugged by Ivy's potion wants to whine in protest. How is he supposed to exercise control!? He'd never force himself on her but he doesn't doubt he might pass out if he doesn't find relief soon. As he exits the Batmobile with her apartment building in front of him, he just prays Jason is asleep and doesn't cockblock him.

You weren’t asleep yet. At 10 PM, you were drawing in bed, pausing at different parts in the pornographic video you were watching to practice drawing bodies. You couldn’t deny this way of practicing wasn’t tempting you to turn the lights off and rub one out with one of your vibrators though. They were recently charged, after all.

Not wanting to stop drawing quite yet but wanting the desire to build, you turn up the volume of the tv and make an effort to not pause as much. It felt good to feel a building arousal in your body and know you could use your toy as many times as you liked. It had already been about twenty minutes of you rotating out on your favorite pornography and hentai tags, working your brain up to arousal under the guise of practicing art. It honestly didn’t take much to get you feeling hot; growing sexual tension in your personal life made it easy to tap into. Maybe it was just that it never left your mind in the first place, and your mind wandered as your fingers snuck under the waistband of your shorts.

You thought of the recent weird vibes between you and Tim, the boy in your humanities course you sat near who was also in your social work course. You’d exchanged numbers early in the semester and at this point you’d met up for study sessions more than once. He’d always been a little flirtatious but you thought he was joking until he had leaned in the other day, hand finding purchase on your thigh as he murmured, “you drive me crazy, you know that?”

It was so generic you would have chuckled or rolled your eyes but the way he said it made goosebumps raise on your skin instead. His eyes were locked on yours and the sober intensity in them was not something you had prepared for, leaning away from him in sudden awkwardness even when you felt your cheeks burning.

Still, the thought of how he looked at you made you shudder when your finger brushed against your clit and your mind raced on.

Then there was your next-door neighbor, Jason. Tall and broad-shouldered, there's a casual confidence in the way he moves. His piercing blue eyes seem to twinkle with amusement whenever you shyly chat with him, like he's in on some secret joke. The black cat always at his heels chirps happily on his little patio table when you two chat, purring loudly and head-butting Jason at any given opportunity. Always, Jason makes his appearance shirtless, his eyes laughing louder at you every time you feel your face flush when he says something questionably flirtatious towards you. It's one thing to playfully flirt, but to do so while ripped and shirtless? How was your ability to articulate yourself around him supposed to have a chance?

You try not to look and act unflustered every time, but once your eyes lingered and you noticed scar tissue all over his torso, unable to tear yourself away from the sight. You'd apologized when he jokingly said you'd better take a picture, since you didn't want to seem rude checking out his scars and felt silly for getting caught staring.

"They come with a price, always," Jason remarked cryptically, suddenly making intense eye contact.

"Your scars?" You asked, afraid to say the wrong thing due to your social anxieties but leaning towards him from your bannister.

"No, my pictures" he replied with a smirk, his eyes twinkling mischievously while Alfred the cat chirped at his ankles again. Jason leaned across his bannister too, "But I've always believed in getting to know my neighbors. I think you and I could take that to a whole new level, don't you?"

"I-I think... that could be...nice," you stammered, your voice barely above a whisper. "Getting to know you better, I mean." You had looked away while trying to choke out these words, gathering your courage before meeting his gaze again. "I'm curious about you.. So maybe we could... explore each other sometime."

His eyes widened, his expression betraying a hint of genuine disbelief. A faint blush quickly dusted his cheeks, mirroring the warmth you felt spreading through you at his suggestion.

"Wow," he said, his voice laced with surprise and breathier than normal, "I wasn't expecting that, but... I like where you're going with this." The tone of admiration had given you chills at the time, praise kink activating at the new way he was regarding you. "I’m curious about you too, you know. Let's see just how close we can really get."

His reaction left you feeling a mix of excitement and nervousness, but you couldn't help but smile at his response. You hadn't seen him since then, a couple days ago, and you hoped your conversation would amount to something delicious one day if it was meant to be.

As you reminisced about Tim's intense words and Jason's forward suggestions, your fingers gravitated towards your clit, applying firm pressure as they glided up and down your labia before slowly easing into your pussy. You opted for two fingers, relishing the sensation of fullness they provided compared to just one. They pressed deeply inside you, and you squeezed around them exploratively, reveling in the feeling.

After relishing the fullness of your fingers, you pumped them a few times, a low moan escaping your lips at the intense sensation. Your eyes scrunched shut tightly as you imagined Tim's hand from the other day—how it had come to rest on your thigh, the way it had firmly gripped at you, igniting a desire to jump at the touch.

You visualized him inching closer to the point of no return, sliding his hand into your underwear, and letting his fingers work their magic right there as you both sat with your homework in front of you. Just moments ago, you would have been innocently reviewing new terms together, but then the thought of his touch would be obscenely irresistible. You pictured yourself moving your hips, eagerly responding to his touch and allowing yourself to make all the noises you had always been too nervous to make with others. You imagined he'd get antsy to fuck you after hearing the squelching of your pussy on his fingers. In your mind's eye, he would just barely find the self-control to pull his cock out from his pants before burying his length desperately as far deep as it could go in you.

As you finally reached for the vibrators kept next to the bed, the abrupt sound of knocking at the door shattered your session. Startled, you jumped up, hastily yanking your shorts back up and rushing to wash your hands.

With no peephole on your apartment door, you felt a twinge of unease as you hurried to answer it. When you pulled the door open, the sight of Tim standing there caught you off guard.

"Hey... uh, sorry to just show up unannounced like this," Tim begins, his voice slightly breathless. "I, uh, I needed to talk to you about something important."

He shifts uncomfortably, trying to suppress the nervous energy coursing through him. "I know it's kind of out of the blue, but... can I come in? It won't take long, I promise."

Tim's words come out rushed, his cheeks flushed with a mix of urgency and embarrassment, as he struggles to maintain his composure despite the powerful effects of the aphrodisiac coursing through his veins.

Without hesitating, you step aside, allowing Tim to enter. His presence saturates the room, bringing with it an air of tension and anticipation.

"Tim, what's going on? Are you okay?" you asked, your voice tinged with concern and uncertainty as you closed and locked the door behind him.

His eyes met yours with an intensity that made your heart beat just a little faster, unsure of what he was going to tell you.

"I couldn't stop thinking about what I said the other day," Tim began, his words coming out in a rush. "About how you drive me crazy. I... I don't know how to explain it but I felt like I had to come see you."

His confession hung in the air, heavy with emotion and unspoken arousal.

As he stood before you, his usually composed demeanor was replaced by an air of dishevelment. His hair was messier, and his clothes weren't neat like usual. There was a manic energy in his expression, a hint of desperation that sent a shiver down your spine.

"Tim, you seem... different tonight," you remarked cautiously, noting the wild look in his eyes.

"I couldn't wait any longer," he confessed, his voice emotional, "I needed to see you. I needed to be with you tonight more than anything."

The intensity of his gaze sent your heart racing, a sense of unease creeping over you as you began to comprehend the depth of his interest. Despite the warning bells ringing in your mind, you couldn't help but feel a flicker of something akin to surrender. You longed for him to desire you so intensely that he couldn't wait for a more appropriate time, practically begging you to spend a night with him like a lost puppy.

As Tim stood before you, his agitation evident in every movement, you couldn't ignore the tension in the air. Your gaze inadvertently dropped to the now noticeable bulge in his pants and you're captivated by it, unwilling to look away. You couldn't help but feel a surge of excitement at the undeniable evidence of his desire.

"Can you... touch me?" Tim's voice trembled with urgency as he made the request, his tone surprisingly gentle despite the underlying intensity. "You can set the pace, do anything you want, just... please, do something," he added, his words carrying a fervent plea while leaving the decision entirely in your hands.

The tension was thick but you couldn't say you were really surprised at this admission of interest. Regarding the boy in front of you, you pondered the consequences this could lead to. As far as you knew, Tim wasn't a frat boy or someone who could make your life annoying with spreading rumors about the type of girl you were at school. He'd only ever been considerate, kind, and genuine. No girlfriend that you knew of, and he'd definitely be the kind of guy who gushed about his partner if he had one, so you wouldn't be any sort of homewrecker. He always helped you with your homework, to a point where you barely needed to do anything but the minimum whenever he got involved in any of your projects or assignments. This in mind, you decided he deserved a reward.

Leaning in towards him, you place your hands against his cheeks to cup his face. His eyes are wide, the pupils dilated. You thought you heard somewhere that meant someone was in love. Staring into those blown pupils with a mixture of curiosity and arousal, you drew closer.

"Can I kiss you?" You whisper and he nods before you can even get the question out. You kiss him, noticing he seems to freeze up for a moment before kissing you back, pressing against your mouth harder. His tongue swipes against you, but before you let yourselves go any further, you pull away.

"Before things escalate, can we agree to keep it casual, keep us casual? I like what we have."

He seems so antsy, almost breathless, "Absolutely, yeah. I'm all in. No pressure."

Doubting his sincerity since he seems so gone off of whatever is happening to him, you hesitate, "Tim, I'm serious. I don't want you to agree just because of the moment or you're high."

You're staring into those dilated eyes of his in the beat of silence that follows, hoping he's really listening to you.

He looks back into your eyes, the frenzied look a little more under control. "I hear you, I'm on the same page. Friends-with-benefits, I'd love that." Notably, he doesn't deny the speculation of being high.

Nodding at the more clear communication, you went back in for the kiss, now letting his tongue enter and explore your mouth. After getting more clarity from him, you feel less tense and relax into his kiss, feeling his hand come up to touch at your hair as he takes more control of it.

Dropping to your knees when the kiss breathlessly ends, you kiss at his clothed bulge, pawing at it with a hand. Your eyes are fixated on the stricken Tim Drake above you, and he watches in awe as you deeply inhale. You can smell him through his pants and nuzzle your cheek against the bump in them.

Slowly pulling at the drawstring of his sweatpants, your fingers hook on the band and you pull them down till they're bunched at his ankles, hardly taking a breather from your kisses.

"Oh, god," he moans in a strangled voice, "You're so pretty down there."

His praise makes your cheeks begin to burn and your movements get a little more self-conscious, feeling marveled at. Moving your mouth against his bulge in his boxers, you find where the tip should be and roughly suck at it through his underwear. His body shudders, one of his hands fingering through your hair and grabbing it firmly and he hisses, "Play nice."

Feeling good about this now, you moan into his bulge at the choked tone you caused him, pulling his boxers down and kissing on his penis directly now. Lifting it, you craned underneath and kissed at his balls, licking a long strip up from them to the tip and swirling your tongue around his hole at the top. A loud moan tore through Tim and you felt him push his pelvis towards you more, the tip of his penis in your mouth beginning to inch further.

Graciously, you accept his bid, widening your mouth to swallow him completely when he pushes in. He's not terribly big but it's still a little hard to fit him in, the longer length causing it to bump into the back of your throat. He doesn't taste bad considering your previous experiences with oral. It was musty and damp like he'd just worked out, but the faint scent of soap and the neat pubes your nose was buried in told you his hygiene wasn't terrible.

Swirling your tongue with the movement, you experimentally go down on him to gauge his reaction. He moans loudly again and the sound is beautiful to you, doing it again in the hopes he moans nicely again. He does and you fixate your gaze up at him as you take his cock deeply again and his face betrayed how flustered he was, with his cheeks flushed and the look of a madman about him.

He's watching you like he adores you and when you make eye contact, his hips buck into your mouth and he whines, "I knew you'd be gorgeous swallowing my cock, you're taking it so well."

You look up at him in curiosity, so he thought about you like that? He'd pictured this?

"Fuck, I knew it. I knew you'd look beautiful on your knees."

You sense his thighs trembling and your hands come up to press against them, mouth obediently swallowing his cock.

"Oh," he chokes and roughly thrusts deeply, "I'm cumming- it's coming, swallow it all!"

He looks back down at you and then it comes as he moans loudly and crouches to push his cock as far as it will go down your throat, the overwhelming cumshot from the throbbing penis in between your lips threatening to spill out of your mouth. You always hated swallowing cum, and the hot orgasm spurting into your mouth is no exception. You feel your gag reflex threatening to make this night nightmarish but then it ebbs away as you focus on the fact the flow of cum is slowing down, on the fact this particular sensation will go away soon.

You can't lie he sounds and looks delicious otherwise, your eyes focusing on his flustered face that looks almost entirely delirious now. He's sweaty but the handsome face almost glows with liveliness, cheeks flushed and jawline trembling with emotion.

Gently, you slide his penis out of your mouth, sucking any remaining cum or spit off until you get to the tip, lightly swirling your tongue against his hole. When you finally pop off, his hand cups your cheek and he promptly drops to his knees, passionately grabbing your face and kissing you. His tongue wriggles into your mouth and you're surprised he's tongue-kissing you with the flavor of his cum fresh in your mouth still. One of his hands hungrily comes up to knead at your tit and you whimper as he harshly pinches on the end of it. Then he's pulled away from the kiss but his body is beginning to overwhelm you, crawling on top of you as you fall back onto your butt with your legs in front.

"Let me have you," he pleads, and you feel his penis is hard again and prodding against your thigh, "Please let me have you right now."

You wouldn't have preferred doing it mere feet away from your front door, especially since the crack under the door was a couple centimeters wide and anyone in the hall could probably hear you without effort, but the wild look in his eyes and the famished way he pulled at both your tits now made you want to indulge in such an animalistic fucking. Something was hot about the desperate way he looked, something enticing about the frenzied approach. You'd never seen this side of him, and the consequences of indulging with him in such a degrading way was far from your mind when his head dipped down and he tugged at the hem of your shirt. Helping him take off your shirt by lifting your arms, he wasted no time in shoving his face in your cleavage, nipping at the top of your breasts with his teeth.

Yelping at the surprising and slightly painful sensation, your hands come up to grip at his hair and he lays large wet kisses against your breasts, sucking at the skin there. You know he's gunning for hickeys and you whimper when he alternates between open-mouthed kisses and biting, arching and pressing your breasts further towards him.

His mouth pops off of them and he leans in, head over your shoulder as he fidgets with your bra clasp behind you. You turn your head as he fiddles with it and bury your face into his neck, inhaling deeply before kissing at it. He smells faintly of laundry detergent, but there's sweat and a slightly sweeter smell lingering on him, the sweeter smell hanging heavily in your nostrils and seemingly dripping at the back of your throat. It makes your head buzz a little and you pull away in a daze when he fails to unclasp your bra, your tits popping out of the thing when he pulls it down in frustration.

"What cologne do you wear?" You ask without really wanting to know right now, feeling your head spin after smelling at his neck.

"I'm not," he gasps, squeezing and pinching at your nipples freely now, and you throw your head back with a moan when he attaches at them with his mouth. He uses his tongue and teeth to alternate between nibbling and flicking at them with his tongue, paying attention to each side as he can. His penis is excitedly bumping against your thigh in his boxers and you kick your shorts off, groping at his bulge.

"Please," he says with need when he takes a break from your tits, and his hand now fumbles at his boxers. You see him pull his cock out from the hole in them and understand what he wants when he slides your panties aside, not bothering to remove them. His dick prods at you and his hips slowly move around, trying to find your entrance. Aroused and excited to feel him enter, you reach down to guide him in.

Then, you remember.

Groaning in annoyance, you gently begin pushing him off of you, "Tim, we have to use a condom. They're in my room."

He finally pulls off your tits with enough of your pushing, and he looks at you like he doesn't understand, a rabid look glinting in his eyes.

You smile, trying to make the best of it, "C'mon, it'll be more comfortable for us on the bed anyways."

Standing and realizing you feel uncharacteristically light-headed, you unsteadily make your way to your bedroom, feeling him grip at your hips while he follows. You apologize for the pornography still loudly streaming from your TV as you make your way to your dresser to get a condom, and his eyes quickly become glued to the visual stimulation, mouth opened slightly as he stared.

"Keep it on," he instructs when he notices you reach for the TV remote, "Keep it on and get over here."

You approach the bed where he sits on the end, and he opens the wrapper and pulls his boxers down to reveal his penis, hastily rolling the condom onto his length. The sensation of doing so seems to be much more stimulating to him than you thought it would, and he moans and whimpers as he pulls it all the way down. Once it's on, he grabs forward at your waist and yanks you down onto him, your breasts smashing against his face as you fall onto him. He's strong and you're letting him pull you around, straddling his lap and looking down at the needy man.

"Here," you say, reaching past him to grab your pillow and tuck it under his head, "There you go."

You smile down at him sweetly and he smiles back, kneading at your ass as you sit atop him. Leaning down to kiss him, you use a hand to reach down and guide his penis against your entry, pulling it to rub it up and down against you. His tip collects your aroused wetness and the movement become slippery as it slides with your lubrication. Just when you can tell he's getting antsy and about to whine, you guide it until you feel it at the tip of your entrance. Slowly, you sink down onto it and his grip on your ass tightens until it's almost painful.

"Oh," He moans, deeply affected. His hips are still as you let him slowly penetrate you until you're full with him and there's no more room in you to sink down further, "Oh, god, you feel so good."

"How do I feel?" You ask in curiosity, looking at him as he seems dazed with the sensation of your pussy. A sudden thrust upwards into you makes you yelp, his hard penis harshly bumping against your cervix. His eyes are closed as he collects his words.

"You're so warm and fluttering around me," he says, and it's true. You feel yourself squeezing at him at the sight of him, his relief evident, "I've never felt so good; it's like you were meant to have me buried in you."

His words are spoken with conviction, and you're processing it all when he thrusts again. It still hurts, but less now. Your head is spinning, but you catch onto his new rhythm and begin lifting your hips up, forcefully pushing them down on him in time with his thrusts.

Pained but aroused moans spilling from your lips in time with each thrust, you realize your tits are bouncing around in his face with your fucking, swinging around wildly. His grip on your hips tightens impossibly and you see his biceps flex madly when his muscles take over, overriding your own rhythm and violently making you meet his thrusts. The moans from his own mouth gets louder until they're louder than yours, his pace quickening at the sight of your expression above him. You look fucked out and in pain and he relishes in it, knowing the sound of skin slapping against skin is his own doing. He grits his teeth and pulls you all the way down on his length like you were when you got on top at first, shooting his orgasm into the condom but envisioning it shooting straight into your womb.

You hiss in some pain at this large and painful thrust, moaning at the distant feeling of his dick twitching in you. The base of his cock is nestled at your entrance and you feel the entire length of it throbbing in your hot pussy as he takes his time to finish.

"You haven't cum," he says through heavy breaths as he comes down and you know he isn't asking but stating his observation.

"It's still really hot," you admit, "I like how it feels when you cum in me."

Staring up at you, he brings his hands up to your ass again and lifts his hips to inch the both of you towards the head of the bed, reaching towards the bedside dresser and grabbing one of your vibrators, handing it to you. You're still impaled on him and gasp at the sensation of him jerking you forward with him on his dick. Now kneading rhythmically at your tits, he pulls at them like he was milking you, "Cum on my cock."

Wide-eyed, you realize he's perceptive and has noticed your vibrators when you came in.

His gaze is drinking you in, eyes less wild as he stares. When you hesitate, he takes the vibrator from your fingers and turns it on, placing it against your clit as you sit on him. You're impressed he knows where the clit is and you jump at the sensation of the vibrator bumping against it, feeling him thrust up with an overstimulated whimper when you jump.

"Tim," you gasp, "doesn't that hurt?"

"Don't worry about it," he hisses through gritted teeth, "I need to feel you cum on my cock."

So you focus on finding your orgasm, hyperaware of the hard rod resting in your secret place, tracing the sex toy along places near your clitoris and moaning in pleasure as you play with yourself. He whimpers every time you squeeze on him and you squeeze on him any time you find pleasure near your clit. His hands return to milking your tits and you remember that his condom is full of his cum, sloshing around deep inside you and pressing against your cervix. The fear of the condom breaking suddenly rushes you to your first orgasm and you gasp his name, feeling him twitch deep inside you as you repeat his name helplessly in your climax. He strains upwards and his lips catch a nipple, sucking harshly as you begin to come down.

"Keep it there," he growls when you begin to pull your vibrator away, "We're not going anywhere until you cum again."

"Tim," you whimper, "I can't."

"I know you can," he says, thrusting upwards experimentally. The movement makes the vibrator bump against your clit and you squeeze down on him at your own overstimulation, making him groan. He slowly and determinedly begins thrusting into you again, small tears forming in his eyes at the overstimuation.

His stubborn insistence on chasing your second high even though you're both beyond the edge only makes you more aroused and you rut against him. He's not thrusting fully, but more so bumping against your cervix in small movements and you're fraught with a visual of the full condom sloshing around. You wonder if he will cum again into it, if it will become so full with his semen it bursts inside you. This thought along with his steady breast kneading causes the knot to quickly build up in your cunt until it comes undone again, and your second orgasm hits in a fray of overstimulation and whimpering.

"There you go," he coos, legs underneath you twitching at your pulsing movements, "There you go, you did so well. You did so good for me, baby...you were meant for it."

You shudder at the sweet tone, being pulled down for a long kiss. His chest is sweaty, the space in between the bottom of your thighs and the tops of his is slick, and you're gasping against his neck when he holds you. The two of you spend a while in that embrace, regaining your breaths and recovering from the intense session. Your head rests against his collarbone until you stir, slowly lifting yourself off him and breathing through the feeling of his cock sliding out of you. When it's fully out, you collapse next to him on the bed, bringing a leg up to wrap around his as you both take a breather.

You know you told him it was no commitment, no feelings, no drama, but you can't deny yourself a cuddle session after sex regardless. He doesn't speak, but the silence is comfortable as you rest your head against the crook of his chest and side. The atmosphere in the room shifts subtly as the distant sounds of the television fade into the background, replaced by the incessant chirping of Tim's phone.

You can't help but notice the growing urgency in Tim's demeanor as he glances at his device, a furrow forming on his brow. Despite your reluctance, he rises from the bed, his movements hesitant yet determined.

Sitting up despite your whines of protest, Tim looks at his device in concern and reluctance, "I have to take this."

Your initial protest dies on your lips as you watch him leave the room, a knot of unease forming in the pit of your stomach. What could possibly be so pressing at this hour? The uncertainty gnaws at you, feeding into the growing sense of unease.

As you strain to make out the muffled voices from the other room, a sinking feeling settles in the pit of your stomach. The once familiar sounds of Tim's voice now carry an edge of tension, each word laced with frustration and urgency. It's a stark contrast to the comfortable silence you shared moments ago.

Your heart sinks further as Tim returns, his expression weighed down by an unspoken burden. The air between you feels heavy with anticipation, as if bracing for the inevitable.

"What's wrong?" you venture cautiously, already dreading the answer.

Tim's gaze flickers with a mixture of regret and resignation as he meets your eyes, his voice heavy with apology, "I'm really sorry, but something came up. I have to go."

Your mind races, trying to comprehend the sudden shift in the atmosphere. What could possibly be so urgent? Despite your efforts to remain composed, a wave of insecurity washes over you. Did this mean you weren't important enough to prioritize?

"...Really?" you finally utter, your voice trembling slightly.

"Yes," he reluctantly confirms, a guilty expression on his face, "I'm very sorry, but I need to attend to this."

Wanting to protest but knowing it would be more frustration than it was worth, you nodded slowly at the news, "...Okay."

He starts for the door, ""I wish I could stay, but I really need to go. I'll make this up to you, I swear."

As Tim heads towards the front of your apartment to gather his belongings and dress, you follow behind, hastily pulling on your shirt as you move. Despite the turmoil swirling within, you're determined to maintain a façade of composure, refusing to let the tears welling up inside spill over. The uncertainty gnaws at you as you watch him prepare to leave, a knot of anxiety tightening in your chest. You desperately cling to the hope that something truly urgent has come up, unable to bear the thought of him simply walking away after the intimacy you shared. You wonder if you'll be able to face him at school after this, but the thought is so overwhelming to you that you just try to focus on the present moment.

You swallow hard, forcing a tight-lipped smile as you bid him farewell, your heart heavy with unspoken words and unanswered questions. As the door clicks shut behind him, you're left standing alone in the hallway, grappling with the aftermath of his abrupt departure.

After a long moment, you decide that freshening up will probably help you feel better and you turn on heel to head towards the bathroom, the goal of brushing your teeth and washing your face the only thing you're ready to focus on in your sudden loneliness.

Part 2, Part 3, Part 4

@dakota-rain666 @tyga-stripes @obsessedwithromance

[bi-writes]

i didn't have an amazing christmas this year so i projected this onto bestfriend!roommate!simon and im sorry about it but im also not sorry about it but i tried to end it nice

more bestfriend!roommate!simon (part 6/?)

cw: mature language and content, mentions of past trauma, mentions of unrequited love and lack of family, mentions of death and loneliness, allusions to violence

you waited for the ringing of the call to stop. you were seated on the couch, the laptop propped up in your lap as you stared at the screen hopefully. your heart skipped a beat when the ringing stopped, a circling loading screen popping up until a grainy video came through.

simon was seated in the dark; you guessed that he was hunkered down in his room, seated on his bunk. he had his skull mask on; the plate sewn onto a balaclava, eye-black hiding most of him in the void of the terrible quality video, and you tried not to notice the mysterious drops of something against the white of his mask.

"hey, simon," you greeted him, giving him a gentle smile. simon ran a gloved hand over his head, nodding.

"''ello, luv. i know the time is bad, if...if you want to head to bed, 's alright with me."

you scoffed, "you know that's not happening. i don't care what time it is here...i always want to talk to you."

he grunted lowly, looking away for a moment at something out of your view before looking back. you moved to go sit by the window, keeping the laptop propped up as you looked outside. you could see the soft lights lighting up the neighborhood; twinkling lights, mostly in red and green, sparkling between the soft snowfall that had began to fall against the pavement.

there was something so peaceful about the moment. you could see the wind pushing the snow at an angle as it fell, starting to add a fresh blanket of white to everything. if you squinted, you could see two people in the apartment across the street, trying to build a small bike in the early hours of the morning. one of them held papers, instructions you guessed, and the other held a screwdriver and was trying to fit the two back wheels onto a base.

"how are you?" you asked suddenly, looking back down at the laptop. "you look like shit."

simon laughed dryly, "you can't even see me."

"i know you," you laughed with him. "and i know that even through the shitty camera, you're worse for wear."

he hummed, looking down for a moment.

"i've had better days," was all he offered, and you swallowed hard, trying to look at him better.

"i miss you, simon."

you said it easily. you did miss him. he was so far away; you didn't know where he was, but you knew it was far. and he did not say when he would be coming back; you suspected he didn't even know himself when he would be.

"i miss you, too, luv."

you looked out the window again. you looked at the couple again, watching one of them take a few bites of some cookies that were laid out while the other had a few hearty gulps of the milk in the glass beside them. your eyes watered a little. their house looked...full. stockings hung over a dwindling fireplace, christmas tree lights giving the room a soft yellow glow, a mountain of presents gathered under a full tree of ornaments.

there was nothing in your apartment. no lights, no tree. you never liked to keep one; you had no one to buy presents for. and simon--this day only brought the wrong kind of feelings to the surface. feelings of torture, of unexpected discovery, of death and the stench of it which couldn't be covered by lighting evergreen candles or baking sugar cookies.

so much of the day surrounded family--of which you didn't have. no one to visit, no one to bring the wine while you cooked the ham, no one to hand you a gift and no one for you to give one to either. you had learned a long time that it was best not to dwell, but it was hard. it was hard when you looked across the street and saw people that had so much more of something. something that you desperately wanted, but couldn't be bought.

when you looked back down at the laptop, simon could see the tears in your eyes clear as day. your eyes were so glossy and wet, and he swallowed hard as he looked at your face, illuminated by the twinkling lights that were bright outside.

"sorry--" you whispered, reaching up and wiping your cheeks with the sleeves of your sweater. "sorry, i don't know why...i don't know what's wrong with me." you laughed it off, but simon could hear the pain in your voice. something aching and scratchy, something hollow.

"did...did you get what i sent?"

you looked up at him, frowning a little.

"sent? like...a package?"

"oh, christ, luv, don't tell me you haven't left the flat all day?"

you opened your mouth to respond, but you closed it, smiling shyly.

"just...go check outside. i can see it bloody snowing, go get it before it gets ruined."

you got up from your seat, going outside momentarily. when you came back inside, you had a wet box in your hands, and you set it down on the table as you when to go get something to cut the tape off. when you had opened the box, there was a smaller one inside, a nicely wrapped burgundy box that fit in your lap. you took a seat in front of the camera again, seeing simon's messy handwriting on the top of the box.

happy december 25th.

you laughed reading it, looking up at the camera after you reading the message.

"just another day, right?" he asked. you had new tears now, but they weren't sad. your heart was beating fast, making you take shaky, fast breaths, and you tried to smile, but it was hard.

"j-just another day," you whispered back to him. you took the top off the box, taking the tissue paper out to reveal a little plushie inside. it was a black teddy bear, but this one was unique. someone had fashioned a little skull mask of it out of felt, messily sewn fabric fit over the bear's face with the beady black eyes peeking out from the eyeholes--just like simon's. you picked up the bear, letting the box fall to the floor, and you tipped your head back as you tried to keep your tears inside. "simon--"

you and simon had never really gotten the chance to just be kids. to just be. to just enjoy and to receive something that didn't serve a purpose or a function, something unnecessary and trivial--something considered extra. because possessions were luxury, and you can't remember the last luxurious thing you had ever gotten.

"i know," he said lowly. "fuck, i--"

he pushed his own laptop down, and the camera tilted so you could only see his lower half. you watched him lose a bit of control, more tears coming down your face as you held your breath. simon cleared his throat loudly, ringing his hands together nervously before he picked the camera back up to his face.

"i'm getting the next fuckin' plane out of here, y'hear me?"

you brought the bear to your chest, hugging it gently before nodding. you wondered if this was why he had gotten you something like this--something to hold onto when he was gone. something to remind. something that would make you remember in the simon-shaped void you seemed to dwell in all too often.

"okay."

you had spent many december 25ths without him. you had spent many december 25ths right here, on a lonely windowsill, watching through the windows of lives that you wished you were living. this loneliness was not new--but now the loneliness was shared, and it hurt to share it.

you fell asleep there, watching glittering lights between the snowfall and holding the bear to your heart. the laptop went dark after awhile, and you slept there by the windowsill, wondering if anyone looked in and wanted to live this life instead.

the empty, quiet life of nothingness and bad dreams.

but it was something warm that woke you. a familiar hand, cradling the back of your head, whispering against your hair.

his breath was shaky. sucking in with difficulty, and then breathing out in rough stutters. your eyes opened slowly, your cheek squished against his tactical vest. you realized that he must've just gotten home--he was still head-to-toe in his gear, and you were staring up into the skull plate.

"simon--!"

you wrapped your arms tight around his neck, squeezing your eyes shut. you gasped as you held him close, and it took everything in you not to burst into tears. your heart fluttered at the thought that he must've left as soon as he told you last night--determined to get back to you.

when you pulled back, simon rested his forehead against yours. you nuzzled your face against his, soft breaths as you grounded yourself in the realization that he's here, he's with me, he's alive.

"just another day," simon murmured, gripping your head with both hands. you swallowed hard, opening your eyes and meeting his own. you swear you saw something sad in them, something emotional, tears of some kind, but he blinked it away before you could look too long. "but i...had to come home."

your nodded reaching up and putting your hands over his on your face.

"i love you, simon."

if he had paid enough attention, he would've heard what those words truly meant. that you didn't just love him, you love him. not want, need, not a preference, but a requirement. undeniable, endless, raw, soul-sucking love--the kind that tore up your insides and spit them out without remorse.

but how can you really love someone like me?

simon tangled his gloved hands into your hair now, tugging gently.

"i love you more."

how can you love someone who's already dead?

[strnilolo]

clumsy girl

summary: matt’s girlfriend is rather clumsy.

warnings: cursing, use of y/n, kisses kinda, jokes about death, idk what else. lowercase intentional

an: i kinda don’t like this one guys. BUT this won the vote so ask and you shall receive.

an2: i do have some requests guys and im very sorry that i haven’t gotten to them, its just hard for me to get motivated unless i have a really good idea for a fic and can play it out in my head. but i will be working on requests i promise.

|navigation|

you and matt are sat on the couch together, aimlessly scrolling through your phones. matt leans his head on your shoulder before giggling slightly, sitting upright next to you.

“look at this video, isn’t this funny?” matt moves his phone in front of you, scrolling to restart the video.

you watch as different clips cut across the screen, laughing lightly to yourself. the video had been a compilation of matt saving you from falling, hitting your head, hurting yourself, etc.

“you’re so clumsy, huh? always need me to save you” matt smirks at your annoyed expression.

“i am not that clumsy, matthew, you’ve probably tripped and fallen more times than me” you roll your eyes as you sit back against your teasing boyfriend.

“well.. what about that one time at dinner, or the time you almost tripped up the stairs?”

matt went on and on about the different times he was your ‘knight in shining armor.’

two months ago

“okay guys now we’re going to be decorating the cupcakes and our lovely mother is going to be trying them and rating them 1-10” you listened patiently as nick loudly addressed the camera, informing the viewers of our next step.

“oh shit” your tube of icing dropped onto the floor right as the clip began rolling. you quickly bend to the side to grab the tube as matt reached his hand to cover the corner of the table, protecting your head from bashing into it. sitting up, you thank matt for his help before continuing to decorate your cupcake.

currently

“oh my god, i actually do remember that. people were making edits for weeks” the two of you laughed at the fond memory, before matt began to speak again.

“do you remember the time you almost fell down the stairs during our house tour?”

“oh please don’t remind me” groaning at the embarrassing image in your head.

several months earlier

“okay so now y/n is going to lead us upstairs to the room we share” matt followed behind you, talking to the camera as the vlog went on.

“oh fuck!” you grip onto the railing, feeling yourself slip on the wooden staircase.

“jesus y/n-” you feel matt’s hand on your back, steadying you on the stairs before he releases his grip, allowing you to continue up.

“you have got to be more careful, you could’ve killed us all” nick laughs from behind matt, dramatically grasping onto the rail.

“whatever, thanks matt” you smile at the boy, playfully rolling your eyes.

“okay guys so we made it upstairs, barely, now to show you where i sleep” matt faces the camera towards you as the four of you continue to vlog a tour of your shared living space.

currently

“jesus, that was embarrassing” you cover your face with your hands in attempt to hide your blush.

“no it wasn’t, you just don’t want the world to see that you’d die without me” matt pulls your hands from your face, playfully placing kisses around your forehead and cheeks.

“i guess i would die without you, huh?”

“a very painfully and stupid death, yes” the two of you laugh at the memories, enjoying the little amount of quality time you’re able to get.

| likes, comments, and reblogs are always appreciated|

| 🏷️ @strniolosworld @bananabread-nana @abbie13sworld @mxqdii |

ps i do not consent to my work being stolen, translated, or posted on any other website without my permission

[lpixo]

Rosemary // (oneshot) <3 [Recording sexy times with Soldier boy!!] x Male reader. Nsfw!!

Dni if you’re a proshipper, identify as a woman, are underaged, or just want to hate.

However, criticism is welcome and encouraged, as so are request. Thank you!!

Notes: There is a surprising lack of male reader fics for soldier boy and I intend to increase the amount. Word count is 2047.

Summary and warnings: It’s the year 1981 and you’ve landed a job for public relations at Vought for non other than Americas favorite hero, Soldier Boy!! You’re only a few months in when you begin having sexual relations with your client.

or

Having sex with soldier boy through the eyes of a camera.

Please be wary of this containing sexual content in which will include failed orgasms, semi-public sex, taping sex, sexual assault, and an employee x employer relationship. Thank you!!

All photos are from Pinterest, all ideas are original.

The camera started facing the floor, stained tile taking up the scenery.

There’s chatter in the background, those who are speaking non visible.

Eventually, the cameras picked up, incorrectly spun to face the carrier, who licks their thumb to rub on the glass, not doing anything to aid in cleanliness.

“Don’t do that, you’ll mess it up,” someone mutters, a bed squeaking and the cameras being rubbed by a fist, correctly being cleaned. Not that matters as the quality is truly shit.

“I’ve never understood these things, too new age for me,” another voice comes, grunting as they position the camera, again incorrectly, to their face.

After taking a while to adjust, Soldier Boy is shown on screen, his brows are flexed together as he attempts to move the camera proportionally to his face. “You gotta turn it around,” the person from before sighs, Soldier Boy looking back with a confused frown.

The camera spun around, taking a while to adjust before making itself seen onto a naked body, clothes visibly thrown without care to the side.

“There we go,” Soldier Boy smirked, facing the camera towards you, bringing a hand down to your stomach. “Should put you infront of the big screen sweetheart.”

The camera gets up close to the side of your face as the camera man leans down to kiss you, nothing short of wet and filthy.

Three weeks ago, Soldier Boy had done it for the first time, although it was way less romantic, if you could call it that. There was high doubt he wanted anything more than a sexual relationship with you.

You’d had to berate him for leaving a guest appearance on a talk show to which he’d claimed was boring.

Trying to be stern was failing, however, as he’d been leisurely stroking his cock the entire time, never looking away from your eyes, except for when he was dragging his down your body.

“Bonus on getting to see you now, too, gorgeous.” He’d been dragging his foreskin back along his dick as he said this to you.

Of course, you had upmost respect for the man, so you attempted not to look, but it got sooo hard when he’d started saying your name in repeat, telling you to look.

Losing your job was so worth it but you couldn’t afford housing, let alone a meal without it, so you’d turned to leave. Ben had rose to his feet, grabbing your arm and bringing your hand to his cock, whispering about how much he wanted to feel your mouth around him. How excited it got him thinking about you every time he came down some bitches throat.

So when he’d kissed you, slow but sloppy, you’d sunk to your knees for him without much debate.

He leans back, camera still in hand, and tilts it back to reveal his lack of clothing, cock hard and leaking. He’d said you had that effect on him, last Thursday when he was humping your hand while you tried to explain why NDA’s were important to follow.

It’s held and slapped against your stomach, Soldier Boy joining you on the mattress, pulling you down as it sinks from his weight.

Your legs are spread and the camera brought to your hole, clearly already prepped, but still Soldier Boy slides a finger inside, testing its capabilities. You bite your lip, knowing the imprint of your teeth will surely be left there.

The cameras sideways now, showing both his fingering and the way your hand comes down to wrap a hand around both your cocks, eliciting a groan from Ben. Frotting was a personal favorite of his.

Its hard to see from the position but from the groans on the other man’s end, it’s clear your prioritizing his pleasure over yours, eventually letting your cock fall back on your stomach to focus on stroking him. Your other hand gathers clear fluid off camera, most likely spit, and brings your pointer and ring finger to stimulate his tip, rubbing in circular strokes.

Ben lets out a broken moan, his finger sliding out with a pop, hand coming up to stop you from continuing. He shuffles the cameras worn out strap off his knuckles, positioning it more towards your sweaty body than his.

“I wanna cum inside you, okay? Fill you up nice,” Soldier Boy pushes his hips back to position himself between your cheeks, one hand on your stomach right above your belly button and the other pressing your leg above your head. “Just how you like it, alright?”

You hum in response, slightly dazed, bringing your hand down to touch your cock in which he didn’t seem to mind. Soldier Boy squeezes his own, firmly gripping it and rubbing around your opening with his tip.

“Tell me how much you want it,” He groans, leaning down to lick at your lips, getting them wet. Your hands come to his shoulders, gripping them tight.

“So badly,” You whined, letting your eyes flutter shut.

When you’d left your office for the day, planing on doing nothing more than reading from afternoon to midnight, Ben had grabbed you. If you were being truthful, all he did was crook his fingers towards his direction to you, in which you willingly followed, but the moment you were in his reach, he threw you into bed, telling you to strip down.

He would be out of state for a few months, and he needed something to keep him sated. It wasn’t as if he wasn’t gonna fuck other people over there, but there wasn’t a hole as tight and wet as yours.

You just fit him so perfectly. He needed a recording.

Ben chuckled heavy, pouring a generous amount of lube on his cock, holding tight onto you and sliding home, grunting the whole way through.

When he finally bottomed out, he had no hesitation in beginning to thrust rapidly into you, ignoring your yelps and stops, to just wait a second for you to adjust. Even with prep it was still difficult to take all off him.

He’d only started being so aggressive a week ago, at first it was so kind and gentle, like he wanted you wholeheartedly. Now it was like you were a glory hole he occasionally saw as human.

Nevertheless, it felt so good to have something so big and long inside, never failing to hit your prostate and after a few seconds it’d stopped aching, so you laid your head down to enjoy.

He was consistent, rolling his hips in and out, never slowing to tease or catch his breath, yet he panted like an animal. Raged noises coming from his throat, wet plops in and out of your body.

For the next couple of minutes you stayed there and took it, the hand that had been so eager to touch yourself now being used to glue yourself to him, holding him close.

You’d curse yourself out for being desperate later, but right now he had pulled out, and you had to figure out why.

“Is something wrong?” Soldier Boy fucked his fist for a second, looking at your hole. He picked the camera back up, covering his face with it.

“Fucking gaping, just asking for more,” He’d growled, grabbing you harshly and flipping you onto your stomach, your brain barely having time to register the action before he was sliding into you again.

He continued his pace, speeding up slightly as he chased an orgasm.

Being on your back gave a nice friction to your dick against the satin, but it hurt when he forced you upwards, ass in the air.

His hand was trailing down your back, making its way upwards towards your hair, and you were sure he would have tugged on it if it weren’t for the telephone beside him ringing. He threw the camera to the side.

He stayed inside you, thrusting a little slower, dragging your body a little as he picked it up, “probably a noise complaint with how loud you’re being,” he grumbled, slapping your cheek, to which you whined, burying your face further into the sheets.

“Jesus Christ,” you heard him mutter, moving closer to the phone wirer, dragging you upwards. The voice on the other side was chipper, and you had no doubt it was gunpowder.

“I bet it is,” he replied, shutting the voice on the other line up for a while. Ben looked down at you, pulling on the skin of your asshole, snapping it back to put you down flat.

He moved the mouthpiece down, kissing alongside your neck, lovingly almost, you would say if you didn’t know the guy.

Gunpowder was still rambling on the other line, and you attempted to tune his voice out. Wasn’t exactly too sexy to hear a teenager talk while you’re being fucked.

Soldier Boy leaned back, plopping himself out of you. When you cried out, looking back to see what happened, he shushed you, running his finger alongside your bottom lip.

He rested himself against you, your back to his chest. After positioning the camera lower, he grabbed his cock, penetrating you again.

Enough pre began to gather on your tip, and you knew you were close, tasting the sheets as you lolled your tongue out, so close.

Soldier Boy began his quick thrust again, and fuck, it reminded you how strong this man was, how close you two were and how close you were to cumming.

With a long groan, Soldier Boy stalled inside you, throwing the phone onto the desk, Gunpowder still speaking, to grab the camera.

Three groans, three more thrust before he pulled out, showing the camera your ruined hole. You shivered as he brought a finger to scoop cum out, turning you back over and bringing it your lips.

You immediately wrapped your lips around his finger, feeling hot as we watched you suck, almost embarrassed as if you weren’t fully naked with his cock that was previously inside you centimeters away.

“Gonna make you cum now, okay?”

You nodded enthusiastically, opening your legs back up to him.

The slide in was slicker, and he fucked himself in faster than before, his previous load making slick sounds as he went in and out.

Resting the camera on your tummy, he moved to pick the phone back up, the sound of his balls slapping almost obnoxiously loud.

“Is someone there?” You heard gunpowder ask, not putting too much importance on him any more when fuckk you were so close.

“No one important,” Soldier Boy said as he looked you in the eye, his face not shifting a bit.

It hurt a little, but you pushed it to the side as it was expected.

You continued to make eye contact with him, licking and pouting to see if he’d get the memo.

He grinned and leaned down, but all so suddenly he snapped back up, his cock hitting your prostate perfectly, and you were cumming, moaning loudly.

“Really?” Ben asks, forgetting the task at hand, his rapid thrust becoming inconsistent due to his lack of care. He continues to talk as an orgasm rips through you, body shaking.

Ben feels the cum squirting out of your tip, becoming consious of what he had been doing. “Know what, I’ll call you back,” he says returning to you.

“What the fuck, man?” You squeal, orgasm continuing on, no friction in or either part of you.

“Shit, sorry,” he moaned, attempting to push out of your tightness. He bent down to kiss your stomach, then bringing his head up to your face to place a chaste kiss on your cheek.

“Next time, I’ll make it better for you, okay?” He says without explanation, retracing off camera back to where the video had begun, not allowing you to protest even a second.

For around twenty seconds you laid there, breathing heavily as to come down from what was a partial high. Your arm was moved behind the camera, and it faded to black with two beeps as it was turned off.

[syluscore]

Cameras

~Leon Kennedy x fem! Reader~

Word count combined for both parts one and two: 8277

PART TWO

Content warnings: smut, sexual content, stalker leon, obsessed leon, male masturbation times 2, female masturbation, panty sniffing, nude taking, breaking into readers place, exhibitionist seemingly unknowingly but knowingly both times, voyeurism? maybe, reader and leon never actually talk

!!!!!MINORS DNI! GHOSTKENNEDY IS STRICTLY 18+!!!!!!

You didn’t mean to find out, it’s not as if you had been looking for anything. You didn’t even know there was something to be found at all. All you did was set up a couple of cameras inside your house to see what your cats did while you were away. The next day when you got a notification on your phone indicating a motion detected person, you thought great, the system is already bugged. How do they somehow mistake a cat for a person? It was a pretty cheap set up though so you guess you get what you paid for. 

When you clicked the notification and the app opened up, you damn near dropped your phone when you saw someone’s back facing the camera as they looked through your bookshelf. What are the odds the day after you get cameras, someone breaks into your house? You were ready to call the police to report that your cameras were recording your home being broken into when the figure turned around and that’s when you saw his face.

Leon S. Kennedy was in your house. You couldn’t believe it at first, so you sat silently watching him. You kept checking over your shoulder to make sure none of your coworkers saw what you were looking at. How would they react to seeing their superior wandering around some house on their coworkers phone? How do you explain something like that? Would you tell them the truth, fuck, would anyone even believe you? You fail at convincing yourself that that’s the reason you’re keeping this to yourself. Deep down you know you want to protect the man; at least until you find out for yourself what the hell he’s doing. What the hell is he doing?

He walked around as though he was intimately familiar with the place. He picked up the book you’d been reading off of your coffee table and flipped to the page you were on. He ran his finger down the page with a smirk on his face. Why in the world was he smirking at your book like that? As if this isn’t already fucking weird, but then you remembered. You stayed up late reading a few chapters and stopped when you had gotten to a smut scene. You wanted to properly enjoy it, so you put in your bookmark and were saving it for tonight.

He closed the book back up and set it down on your coffee table, exactly as you had laid it down there the previous night. He made his way to your bedroom and opened up the top drawer of your dresser. You blushed as he felt around your undergarments like a determined man on a mission.  He was somehow chaotically, yet methodically ruffling through the pieces of clothing. It seemed he was familiar with the items before him, that even through the chaos, he could recognize and log in his mind what was there. After he had finished going through the entire drawer, he sat his hands on the dresser top, tilted his head back with his eyes closed, and sighed, or at least it looked like a sigh. He closed the drawer and headed to the other side of your room.

He picked up the hamper holding your dirty clothes and poured it out over your bed and rifled through that too. Your whole body felt flushed as he continued his search. Once he was satisfied with his search, he just stood there with an intense look on his face. You watched as his right hand slid down to his groin and he palmed himself through his pants. When he pulled his hand away, even with the shit quality camera, you could see how hard he was. There was no more pretending to convince yourself that maybe he was doing research on you; no matter how out of the code of conduct it was. Leon seemed like the man to use any means necessary when gathering intel. So what information could he possibly find in your panties? 

He hurriedly made his way over to your desk and pulled a small box out of the back of the bottom drawer. Your eyes widened as you knew immediately what was in that box. He opened it and ruffled through the polaroids, until he found the one he was searching for. You could barely make out what was on it, but you knew those pictures well. It had to be the one of you sitting in front of the floor length mirror, legs spread, two of your fingers in your mouth, showcasing the lacy purple matching panties and bralette. 

“Oh my god,” you accidentally said aloud, before quickly looking around to make sure no one heard your outburst. Satisfied you were still alone, you looked back at the man on your phone, knowing what he had been looking for. He knew you were wearing that set today. Not as if you had a special occasion to be wearing something so pretty and extra, but sometimes, a girl just needed a confidence boost and this morning you decided that this purple set was that. And he fucking knew it was missing, he knew you were wearing the thing. 

You tried to comprehend why he would do something like this. It’s obvious he’s done it many times before, with the way he navigated your house with ease and had a mental note of every single undergarment you owned. Was he stalking you? Was he obsessed with you? It had to be something along those lines for him to break into your house and rummage your panty drawer. To care about the book you’re reading, especially to check where you were at in the book. He obviously felt some sort of way towards you, now you had to find out why and what the extent of this whole situation truly was.

You’d hardly talked to Leon. You’d spoken a couple of times, but it was usually in a group or very public setting. How had he formed such a fixation on you? From what you’d heard around your department, he had been through some extremely traumatizing missions and was more of the loner type. Although, everyone around here is pretty messed up considering we work in the business of protecting the population from bioweapons and such. We’d all seen many things beyond comprehension, we all had our demons, but I don’t think anyone else was inside a subordinate's apartment touching their panties. Or maybe they were, you weren’t sure what you understood anymore.

You continued to watch Leon on his little adventure in your personal space. He had laid down on your bed, over top the dirty clothes, and was stuffing his face into your pillows like a puppy or something. He unbuttoned his shirt and ripped it open to expose his chest. Your jaw nearly dropped as his hands made their way to his belt. He quickly undid his belt, following with the button on his jeans and the zipper coming down quickly afterwards. He slid his pants and boxers down just enough for his big, hard cock to spring free.

He slowly starts to pump up and down his cock with his hand as his head digs deeper into your pillows. Your mouth ran dry and heat went rushing straight to your pussy. You couldn’t stop internally asking yourself what the fuck was wrong with you. Why are you aroused by this man in your house, jerking off in your bed, without your permission. How could you allow yourself to feel this way? He was a pervert, a weirdo, a creep, a stalker, but fuck was he pretty. Especially pretty with his dick in his hand, giving himself pleasure. You could feel how soaked your panties had become, your cunt feeling claustrophobic, trapped inside the fabric.

His hand left his cock for a few moments as it dug through the clothes surrounding him until he pulled up a pair of your dirty panties. He brought them right up to his nose and you could visibly see him inhale deeply and his cock jump as he did. He wrapped the panties around his hand and brought it back to his cock to resume his movements. He was jerking himself off using your panties and you had never felt more aroused in your entire goddamn life.

His pace was quickening rapidly and his hips kept bucking up into his hand. His other hand grabbed the pillow from beside his head and he began literally smothering it over his face. You could see him losing all control, he had to be super close to cumming. Maybe he was into some sort of breath play, or maybe it was the smell of you. He was sniffing your panties, so why wouldn’t he also enjoy breathing in your scent off your pillows. Why are you rationalizing or trying to explain the train of thought inside this man’s mind? Why do you love it so much?

Your thighs were clenched together painfully tight. It was taking everything in your power not to pant and whimper at the sheer need to feel some sort of friction on your needy, begging cunt. Part of you wanted to run off to the bathroom to give yourself some relief that you desperately needed, but the other part of you wouldn’t allow you to move from where you sat. You couldn’t miss a single second of the show happening on your phone screen. 

His hips were rutting up into his quick moving hand so fast, you knew he would be cumming any second. And fuck you couldn’t wait to see him cum. Suddenly he was holding his hips up off the bed, back arched, hand movements so sloppy, as his cock twitched and shot the ropes of his release all over his chest and abdomen. Watching him cum had you rubbing your pussy down against your chair, trying to find some sort of relief of your own, but you quickly stopped yourself before anyone could come around the corner and catch you.

He laid on your bed for a minute, face to the side buried in your pillow, panties laying over his freshly spent dick, his chest rising slower and slower as his breathing returned to normal. Once he caught his breath, he used your panties to clean his cum off of him before he secured his pants and started tossing your clothes back into the hamper, hiding your panties covered in his cum in the mix of them. He made quick work of fixing up your bed and putting the box of your explicit polaroids back into your desk. 

As quickly as he had shown up on your cameras, he was gone. You felt like you could breathe again, but the ache deep in your core persisted and only worsened anytime your brain flashed back to Leon’s cock in his hand. Pumping up and down, up and down, up and down, fuck snap out of it! You were so aroused by Leon’s behavior and you felt ashamed. But as you started to process the depth of what had just happened, you realized that he was obviously as fucked up as you were, all things considered.

You couldn’t believe it, but you can’t wait to see when he’ll come again. If you’re lucky, maybe he’ll even show up again tomorrow. You want nothing more than to watch the show put on unknowingly just for you. And you’ll be damned if you don’t leave a surprise for him to find on his next visit. No one ask you what the cats were doing, you wouldn’t have any clue where they were all this time.

After the events of yesterday, you’d been too distracted to get any real work done all day. You were skittish waiting for a notification to alert you of your special visitor. You were running out of nails to chew on, the anxiousness making you feel like an absolute wreck. At least the anxiety was keeping you awake and alert, considering you could hardly sleep last night in anticipation. Not only had you put a lot of thought into your gift for Leon, but so much work as well. You just had to have him right where you wanted him.

Last night when you were leaving work, Leon was in the entryway chatting with a couple of your coworkers. Well, they were doing most of the talking as Leon politely nodded and acknowledged what they had been saying. His eyes wandered off until they fell on you walking through the lobby, heading for the main doors. Your eyes met and he held your stare. You played it off as you smiled and waved at him, continuing for the doors. His eyebrow cocked in confusion as he gave you a small wave back. You weren’t ready for him to know what you knew, but you also wanted to somehow acknowledge him. Maybe to fuel his obsession, you weren’t sure exactly why.

You hurried home embarrassingly fast, almost falling flat on your face as you excitedly unlocked and threw the front door open. You quickly dropped your stuff off on the table and shed yourself of your shoes and jacket before rushing off to your room. Everything looked just as it should, but you just had to find that little bit of physical proof that he had really been here. Maybe you were going through some sort of lack of dick psychosis and your brain was providing you with wonderful, erotic delusions.

You emptied your hamper out over the bed, throwing anything that wasn’t that small piece of fabric out of the way. And then you finally had it and held it within your two hands. Without a doubt, everything you had seen was so very real. Your cum covered panties looked so beautiful, so fucking delicious as your fingers rubbed in the dried up substance.

Nervous to execute the plan you’d been fantasizing about at work since you’d caught Leon on your cameras, your hands were shaky as you tossed the panties on the bed and made way to the bookshelf in your main room. You haven't used your Poloroid camera in such a long time that you weren’t sure where it would be exactly, but you just had to take some pictures for this man. You ransacked and shuffled things all around the shelves until you finally found the treasure you’d been searching for. After making sure it had film ready, you headed back to your bedroom.

Satisfied with the lighting in the room, you unbutton your blouse leaving it pulled open yet still tucked into your shirt, leaving your bra covered chest on display. You point the camera directly at your chest. Snap. You wait for the little print to pop out before laying it on your desk and working on your next photo. You got down on your knees, tight skirt covered ass sticking out towards your floor length mirror, soft thighs and curves perfectly posed in the reflection. You angle the camera just right and snap. You hiked your skirt up mid ass and spread your thighs wide, showing off your panties in the mirror. Snap. You hike your skirt all the way up your hips and sit on your ass, legs spread open, and remove your blouse. Snap.

After a while, you’ve snapped all sorts of pictures, experimenting with what poses and positions looked the best. You’d tossed a few fails away, but were ultimately happy with the collection showing off your undergarments. But it wasn’t enough for you. You laid back on your bed, throwing your bra off somewhere so that you were just in your underwear and snapped another picture. You snapped a picture of the wet spot on your panties, before dipping your hand beneath them and running your pointer finger over your clit, snapping another picture. You shivered when your finger made contact. You felt edged after the events of the day.

You removed your hand from under your panties and pulled them to the side, exposing your aching, wet cunt and of course, snapping another picture. You brought your finger back to your clit, flicking it, lightly running circles around it. You snapped another picture and knew that if you applied any more pressure you’d be done for, but you weren’t quite ready to be done yet. 

You gathered your wetness on two fingers before slowly pushing them inside your needy hole. Your back arched as the pleasure instantly flooded your senses. You slowly pumped them in and out, letting little whimpers slip as you were far too worked up to keep quiet. When your two fingers were buried in your cunt, you snapped another picture, before continuing fucking yourself at a steady pace. You needed to cum so badly, but the need to display yourself for Leon was far fucking stronger.

Your wetness was slipping out of you and running down your thighs, creating a wet spot on the sheets beneath you. A great photo opportunity, of course you fully utilized this. You removed your fingers from your pussy and used your thumb to swirl your arousal around your fingers. A wet string hung between your two fingers and you snapped a photo of your fingers coated in your wetness. You brought your fingers to your mouth and started sucking them clean, moaning at the taste of yourself and snapping a photo.

It had to be enough photos, you’d find some you were pleased with to leave laying around for him to just happen upon. You tossed the camera to the side of your bed and covered yourself back up with your panties. Your hand slipped under the waistband and you quickly swirled your finger around your clit, eliciting that sweet, sweet pleasure. You were determined to come in your panties so that Leon could find them.

Your mind flashed back to Leon laying in the exact same spot as you are now, jerking his cock with your panties. You wanted so badly to help him, to wrap your lips around that pretty cock until his eyes rolled back in his head and you could taste his cum as he let himself explode in your mouth. He’d grip your hair so tight, tell you how good of a girl you are, how good you feel wrapped around his cock, how good you take him. Just the thought of Leon alone had you trembling beneath your touch, back arching off the bed as his name slipped from your mouth between moans as you came inside your underwear.

You ran your fingers over your clit until the overstimulation became too much. You couldn’t remember the last time you’d come so hard and so quickly. Eventually you came back down and got up off the bed, placing everything in your hamper but laying your freshly used bra and panties on the top. You’d lay in a different spot on your bed tonight so your wet spot would be there for Leon. You laid the Polaroids haphazardly across the desk for him to find nice and easily too.

Now you’re sitting impatiently in your office chair, hoping, maybe even praying, for the man to make a visit to your house. It was getting later on in the day than it had been for his visit yesterday and you were starting to lose hope. You were finally starting to focus on work when a notification on your phone had you nearly jumping out of your seat. Motion detected. Perfect.

You quickly opened the app and the live camera feed came to life across the screen. Leon was walking through your living room, looking around for anything out of place. His brows furrowed in confusion when he opened your book and saw you hadn’t made any progress. Oh well, you have been very busy. Now it was just time for him to discover what had had you so caught up last night. He lazily walked into your bedroom and scanned around, freezing when he saw some new cluttered papers on your desk.

He walked over and upon discovering they weren’t just little slips of paper, he quickly pulled out your desk chair and fell back into it. He quickly spread the pictures all around, flipping through them, staring and admiring each and every single one. It felt like he sat there and looked at them forever before he finally stood, heading towards your bed. 

He threw the duvet cover back and stared down at the wet spot on your thin, fitted sheet. He quickly turned and looked at your hamper, immediately recognizing what was laying right on top. He reached over and picked up your panties, bringing them to his nose, and deeply inhaling them over and over again. You could see how hard he was from all the gifts you’d left for him and it had you growing increasingly hot all over your body. He walked back over to your desk and sat your panties down next to the photos. He stood there for a few minutes scanning over everything that was displayed in front of him.

Suddenly he was staring straight into the camera. Your heart stopped as you stared right back at his face. Did he really just find the fucking camera? Could he sense you watching him? Fuck, you had to be in deep shit. What would he do now knowing that you know? Would he realize you left all of that stuff there specifically for him? With the bullshit you pulled, maybe you wanted him to know. A smirk slowly grew on his face as he grabbed the panties and one of the photos before sitting himself back on the bed, immediately staring back into the camera.

He laid the panties and photo next to him as he undid his belt at an agonizingly slow rate. You were in a trance, hypnotized by the show being put on before you. He completely shed himself of his pants and boxers this time as he spit down onto his cock and brought your panties to it. He pumped himself all the while it felt like he was staring straight into your soul. The mixture of shame and arousal had your entire body on fire, feeling like you might combust at any second.

You don’t know how much time passes while you stare at Leon staring into the camera while pleasuring himself, but he doesn’t break the stare as he cums right onto the photograph he’d brought to the bed with him, some spilling on the panties as well. He got himself dressed and laid the cum covered picture of you and your panties back on the desk. He stopped and looked back into the camera one last time, shooting it a wink, and then he was out the door once again.

You were quickly jumping up from your chair and heading to the bathroom to collect yourself. That really just fucking happened. He knew you were watching, knew he had been caught, and knew he was jerking off right into the camera. What the fuck were you going to do now? You thought you’d have your fun with this while he didn’t know, considering what he’d been doing without your knowledge for god knows how long. But he caught you just as you had caught him.

The day goes by in a blur. If you thought you couldn’t focus before, you definitely couldn’t focus for shit now. When it’s time to head home, you’re practically throwing yourself into your jacket, tossing your things together, and heading for the front doors as fast as you possibly could. All you had to do was make it out of the building, then you’d be alone with your thoughts and could think of some sort of plan for what you were going to do now. But of course things never work out as you would hope.

As you’re making your way through the lobby, your gaze locks into a pair of pretty blue eyes loitering near the front doors. You shift your eyes away as you take a couple more steps, but you can’t help but to look back at Leon as you get close to the doors. This time he shoots you a big cocky smile and waves at you. You aren’t sure what to do, so you give him a small, nervous smile back as you push through the front doors and out into the fresh air. 

You feel yourself let go of a breath you were unaware you’d been holding in. You turn your head and look back through the windows on the front of the building and see Leon still staring at you. What do you do? You feel like you might throw up, so you do the one thing your legs will allow you to. You hurry the fuck out of there and rush your ass straight home. You were so fucked.

~masterlist~

[ihavenointerestinreallife]

filming a sex tape w/ homie… :3 not beta read. enjoy anyways 18+ mdni

—

It was 12:23 AM, most of America was sleeping, or at the very least settling down. But not you, you were wide awake, and definitely not your Supe boyfriend.

Your nimble fingers worked urgently to get the shitty, grainy laptop webcam to be at the perfect angle. You grasped the laptop monitor with a sense of haste, undertones of anxiousness not going unnoticed by your partner standing a few inches away. Homelander watched you perform your intended execution; find the best angle to record a sex tape.

His arms were folded over his chest, as if he were a child being denied. “Is this really necessary babe? I mean, cmon, it’s not like anyone is gonna watch it.” He stated matter-of-factly, his eyes devoid of any emotion. But you knew he wanted this from how he acted the day leading up to the act; more touchy, more possessive– as if the knowledge of what was to come heightened a sense of ownership over you.

Any disinterest he showed in this moment you knew was fabricated. Being a Supe yourself you had heightened senses, and the sweat dripping down his forehead coupled with his rapid heartbeat made you blatantly aware of his want, his need to be so intimately claimed by you.

You plopped yourself on Homelander’s black leather couch to see the view of yourself in the webcam. “God, with how rich this company is, you'd think they could afford technology with better quality than this shit.” You rolled your eyes while checking yourself out, flipping your hair to the back to get a good view of your clothed breasts.

Once again Homelander scoffed at your actions, this time at you caressing your own breasts– especially now that your peaked nipples were so painfully obvious to him. “I thought this was supposed to be our sex tape, not yours.” He grabbed your body with ease, not setting you down until he was seated in your previously occupied position, and you in his lap.

“You’re right babe, this camera angle does suck,” he paused, moving your hair from one side to the other to begin peppering kisses down your neck. “Barely fits us both, which is crazy considering how fucking small you are.” Homelander shuffled forward, unintentionally teasing himself in the process when his semi-hard on rubbed against your clothed crotch. He reached in front of you to angle the monitor up to a point where it caught a glimpse of both of you– your lightly flushed face and his eyes dark with need.

His fingers danced up and down your arm, slowly creating goosebumps in their wake. “When you asked me to do this the other day, I thought you were fucking crazy,” he said, huffing out a small laugh against your shoulder blade. “But now I know I was the crazy one for not thinking of it sooner.”

His earnest tone made you release a small whimper of need, forged from the desire to be wanted even more by him. Homelander let out yet another chuckle against your back, this time adjusting to where he was sitting up straight and you sliding further down his lap.

“You know,” you began, pausing to bite your lip to suppress another whimper when he began rubbing your thigh, “Ashley is gonna kill us if this gets out..”

He pulled back, scoffing with what you couldn’t tell was actual annoyance or not. His blue eyes, now tinted with a shade of black from his blown pupils, bore deep into yours on the screen– you thought your heart was going to explode out of your chest. Homelander’s eyes trailed down after a moment, beginning to rub your thigh again. “Fuck Ashley,” his eyes snapping back up to meet yours in the computer screen, “and fuck everyone else that isn’t you and I.”

Truthfully you were ready to start recording ten minutes ago, but now your hands inadvertently rushed to hit the record button, earning a small smothered laugh from your partner. “Oh baby, you really are desperate aren’t you.” Homelander said with a newfound deep, husky tone– he was a natural.

As if he could sense your rapid heartbeat, he took control to save you the trouble. His gloved hands maneuvered your body to twist in a somewhat uncomfortable way, but it became worth it when your lips locked. The two of you collided like animals, teeth almost clanging together from how bad you wanted the other; but truthfully, you both needed each other– in more ways than one.

Whimpers and muffled moans spawned from your throats, you sang together as if you were doing a duet you’d done a hundred times. Sex with Homelander was passionate; rough when needed, but always creating a sense of bliss whenever you both came together. The two of you had an unspoken dynamic, something you shared about who controlled the power during these moments; it was a matter of whoever grasped that power first, and it seemed he had this time.

Homelander forced himself to take his lips off of yours by pulling your hair, forcing you off as if he couldn’t bring himself to do it alone. “Face the camera honey, don’t be greedy. Show ‘em how sweet you are to me.” He doted, rubbing your cheek as he faced you back towards the camera.

When you hadn’t moved after a moment, he let out a low grumble that resembled a growl. His fingers pulled on the hem of your shirt, beginning to tear it in half before you grabbed it from his grasp and pulled what remained of it off. “That’s a good girl,” he praised you, fingers teasing your pebbled nipples through the lace material of your bra.

He leaned back against the couch– slightly out of the camera's view– to admire the set you wore for this occasion. You felt his cock grow under the confinement of his suit as he realized the colors resembled that of his own personal brand: red white and blue. Fuck, he thought, hand rubbing up and down the exposed skin of your sides, drinking in the view in front of him like he couldn’t get enough.

“Ladies and gentleman, America’s favorite whore.” He bestowed that title on you as if it were a royal position, then sitting up and wasting no time unclasping your bra as if it were a lock hiding buried treasure.

He continued addressing the nonexistent crowd– one that would hopefully never exist– as he kept his eyes on you. “I don’t know why she insists on wearing this unnecessary thing all the time, a slut like her should always be ready for me. Isn’t that right sweetheart?”

You were in a daze, staring at Homelander’s face on the screen– it seemed as if the only thing keeping you from zoning out was the flashing red button that signified the ongoing recording. Homelander got tired of waiting though, despite how stupidly cute he thought you looked, and he grabbed your jaw with his glove; an act he knew you loved.

“I asked you a question,” he flashed his canines to the camera, “and I intend on getting an answer.” He especially knew you loved when he was mean.

You spoke for the first time since the camera began recording, finally setting it in stone that it truly was America’s most beloved Supe couple about to have raw, unedited sex right on camera. “Mhm, fuck,” Homelander hooked his thumb in your mouth, a taste of rubber flooding your tastebuds as you desperately tried to suck it, “‘m such a slut for Homelander..”

Homelander’s free hand palmed your left breast in response, the other still held in your mouth because he just knew it was causing a pool down in your panties. And he’d be right, like always; you’d be a fool to think he didn’t know your body better than you did.

You began to grind slowly on his lap, careful not to set too fast of a pace, lest he deem you too greedy and halt your movements altogether. Homelander wasn’t an idiot; he could feel your slow movements whether you tried to hide it or not– and your erratic heartbeat was a dead giveaway, anyways. But he didn’t mind– instead, his hand occupying your breast came down to roughly grip your thigh, urging your movements to gain speed.

And you did just that, gasping whenever your clit rubbed against his equally needy cock. You knew that your boyfriend’s superhuman strength would be the cause of the bruises that would appear on your legs soon, but you didn’t care– in fact you loved when he would mark you up and make you his, you craved ownership just as much as he did.

“Look at you,” Homelander vocalized as if he were singing a song to you like a bird. His right arm came down, taking his thumb with it, and pulled you flush against his chest. His eyes met yours for a brief moment as your bodies collided before turning back to the camera, “getting my suit all wet, humping like a bitch in heat– some might say she wants to be watched.”

You let out a loud moan at his words, choosing an even faster pace than the one you went at before. Homelander stopped speaking, instead choosing to sit in silence and drink in the sounds you gave him. He could tell you were getting close from how desperately you began to grind in his lap, and he'd be lying if he said he wasn’t getting close to that point himself.

Both your eyes and his met again, longer than just a brief moment this time. He held you there without a word– you knew that he was forcing eye contact with you and breaking it would result in a punishment. “I know how bad you wanna cum on my lap,” Homelander took pride in the fact that he could get you off practically without touching you, all he had to do was maneuver his hips into a perfect angle that could grind against you until couldn’t take it anymore. “I know baby, I know- but we’ve got an audience to impress.”

He gave you no time to react to the fact he was unbuckling the golden belt that hung around his waist, having to arch your back in order to act with one hand; his other was busy forcing you in place by a rough grip to the shoulder. Despite your attempts to look back over your shoulder and watch the way he prepped himself to fuck you, it was to no avail. “Keep your eyes forward, honey.”

You threw your head back in a fit as if you were a child being told no. A small whine of impatience slipped out, earning you another breathy chuckle from Homelander. He gave your attitude no attention, instead rubbing small circles on the flesh of your ass, creeping closer to the lingerie seemingly vomited on by American patriotism. Fuck, he thought– this time expressing it aloud. It was in these moments you felt your relationship with your Supe boyfriend become the most aflame; his possession, need and want to claim you whole. You wouldn’t be surprised if he devoured you one day.

Homelander’s fingers, still gloved, slowly moved the lacey material of your panties to the side. One hand rubbed teasingly up and down your soaked slit, the other jerked his cock slowly– not only was teasing you, but he was teasing himself. “Look at the camera, sweetheart, I want you to tell them why you think Homelander should give you his cock.”

It was an interesting request, the man spoke as if he really was convinced this would get out. “H-homelander should– fuck,” you were cut off by the tip of his finger shoving its way inside you– not all the way, but just enough to make you ride it as if it were the best thing you’ve ever felt. Clearing your throat, you continued, “Homelander should give me his cock cause I’m his good girl, his good slut.”

Your response must’ve satisfied him based on how he picked you up as if you weighed nothing and turned you to face him. He wasted no time maneuvering your body to an angle in which the camera could watch his cock slip inside achingly slow, his head falling back against the couch in pleasure. You both let out loud moans in responses as if you were teenagers again, lost in the feeling of the first time.

Once sheathed fully inside your cunt, he waited til the first pulse of your walls to begin moving. Homelander’s hands gripped the fat of your hips and moved you himself, not giving you a chance to contribute to move on your own. He was groaning– growling even at that point, you knew his possession of you peaked during these moments; it was a high.

“Look at the way your pussy grips my cock, like she was fucking made for it.” His eyes met yours, now ignoring the audience that never existed in the first place. “Maybe you were made for it baby, what do you think? Not made to receive Compound V, no– not even to save the world.” His pace began to increase, the sound of skin on skin echoing through his large penthouse. “Just made to sit pretty and take it.”

Homelander licked his lips, thumbs rubbing circles to make up for the rough grip he had. The movements of his arms had you bouncing up and down on his lap, and his eyes were fixated on where your cunt swallowed his cock– it was like where the ocean met the sky, a renowned beauty. You knew he was obsessed with how he’d trained your body to act under his command, something he didn’t even have to try to do. It came easily, being Homelander’s.

His hand gripped the base of his cock and pulled it out achingly slow, earning a whine from you in response. He clicked his tongue at your obvious need. “Turn around, angel,” he commanded. You were quick to oblige him, flipping to have your back flush against his chest in a flash– you loved being a Supe. His hands rubbed on your sides, and you could feel the heat from his body radiating through his suit on your back.

Homelander flashed a smile at you on the screen, to which you smiled back. He kept your eyes there, fixated on the sight of his messy appearance as he slid back inside you. He watched on the monitor as your mouth went agape, but all he did was laugh; he mocked you– eyes wide, lips open and an overly exaggerated moan. To anyone it might have spawned embarrassment– but it only stirred you on, made you moan again.

That must’ve ignited some nasty, primal urge in him; the fact you got off on him lowering you to stare of inferiority, the way your half lidded eyes locked on to the sight portrayed on the screen. He made sure to show the camera each and every time your cunt swallowed his cock full. Homelander felt so full of himself here, he basked in the knowledge you were addicted to the feeling only he could give you.

His gloved hand wrapped around your throat, sparking you to grind your hips faster on his lap in an attempt to reach your peak. Nothing but a gentleman, Homelander was set on always making you cum before himself. Of course, there were times he failed– he blamed it on the fact your pussy was just too made for him– but he paid it back tenfold, giving you as many orgasms as you could take.

But at the end of the day he was human, too, and you could both tell you were getting close. “Cmon baby, fuck, I know you’re getting close, I need you to show ‘em how you cum on my cock.” He panted out, expression now seemingly dazed too at the way you tighten when he squeezes your throat. You loved watching black spots dance in your vision, a stark contrast between the abundance of pleasure you were receiving.

You nodded. “Yes, let me show them,” you choked out with all the air still left in your lungs. Your ears began to ring, blood trying its hardest to keep you conscious but alerting you to its incoming failure.

Sensing your impending asphyxiation, he let go– but Homelander had no intention of giving his girlfriend time to bask in the new air now swarming in your lungs, instead bringing that same hand down to rub harsh figure eights on your puffy, swollen clit. It was almost as if he was in a rush to get you to cum, knowing the new sensation would bring you to that place.

And he was right, your head fell back on his shoulder as your body shook upon your orgasm. He fucked you roughly through it, hips still snapping at the same pace as your evident release began to coat the fabric of his suit. Your shaking hands found their way onto his cheek, moving your head slightly to the side in order to pull his lips to your own. It felt like grabbing a table to avoid falling, he was your hold.

The kiss kept going while he finished inside you. His hips slowly began to stammer, only stopping completely when both of you whined in oversensitivity. Instead of slipping out, Homelander kept you locked in a kiss, only breaking it to touch foreheads with you– a silent way of asking if you were okay. You’d nod, smiling.

He’d pull away after a few moments, turning his attention back to the screen as if he’d just remembered it was going. “Well folks, I hate to cut it short but I’ve got to go fuck Miss America– again,” he spoke as if he were a goddamn talk show host. “But this time all for myself.”

You giggled, burying your face into his neck as he stopped the recording. Of course, you knew Homelander wasn’t bluffing, he never lied about when and where he’d fuck you. After taking you once again on the couch, he’d take you in his bed– once, twice, until you both fall asleep.

A nice slumber, your naked, sore body wrapped in the sheets with his. The room smelled of sweat and sex, but you loved it. You’d even argue the sleep afterwards was the best part of it all…

…until a frazzled redhead practically beats the door of Homelander’s penthouse down, screaming about how your naked bodies are now plastered online. Oops.

—

i need God

[octuscle]

Cursed Ken, part 2: Jack, the lad

Perhaps it hadn't been such a good idea to pocket this doll… But it looked so great. And it would have been a waste if it had ended up in the bin. Presumably the others had all ended up in the bin. What a waste!

John hadn't been in product design long. But he recognized quality and potential. He thought his boss had made the wrong decision. That cool kid in the cool clothes… John might not have made them pink. But of course it somehow fitted the character… The bus was full, it was rush hour. John wanted to have another good look at the doll. But bloody hell, the doll was no longer in his coat pocket. And actually, his coat pocket wasn't there either. His whole coat was gone. He was wearing a pink Adidas down vest over his suit. His gaze fell on his hands. They weren't real hands. They were the hands of a doll. Flawless. As if cast from a single mold. Basically no difference between skin and fingernails. It looked… Like plastic!

"Hey, Ken, where's Barbie?" a redneck yelled at him. Shit, what was going on here… John fumbled for his cell phone. It was in his vest. And it was in a pink case… He switched the camera to selfie mode. And he looked into a motionless and emotionless face. Perfectly cut. Beautiful. But as if made of plastic. John panicked. Thank God he was soon home. He jumped off the bus at the next stop. He had to get away very quickly. He… I don't know what he had to do… His head felt so nice… But somehow… Empty.

His joints were a bit stiff… But he felt fit. He didn't really feel like going home. He'd only get into trouble with his parents there. They were probably drunk again and would just moan at him again. And if he didn't give them any money because they'd already got through the social welfare again, his father would try to beat him again. He should. Pathetic old man. He wouldn't give him any of his hard-earned money.

John had only seriously thought about going home for a few minutes. He was now on his way to the pub. The boys were probably there too. A couple of beers, maybe a round of darts. Maybe he'd find someone to fuck, too. Jack stroked his chin. His hands were calloused. Calloused from working out at the gym, calloused from working at the road construction company. It was a good job. The other guys were in a good mood. And for a high school dropout, Jack was making a hell of a lot of money.

Shit, the evening had escalated again. It was already dusk when Jack made his way home. He would only be able to lie down for an hour at most before he had to go to work. And the gym would have to wait until after work. Jack pissed in the bushes outside the miserable council block where he lived. But anything was better than having to spend the night on his parents' sofa bed again. But now he would even crash there. The main thing was to get a good night's sleep before he started a new day at the jackhammer.

[sirfrogsworth]

Stephen Shore is a famous photographer most noted for his work in the 1970s.

He is now an old man.

And sadly, he just yelled at a cloud.

As he was giving his lecture to a Chinese audience, he noticed many people on their phones. And he paused his lecture and said the following...

"Just before you ask that question – I’m gonna say something, and I apologize in advance because it’s gonna be rude. But it’s something [that’s been] on my mind as I experience the modern world. Since we’re talking about attention, I think we understand each other. And I think you understand the value of attending to daily life. I saw at least a dozen of you who spent the entire lecture looking at your phones. You’ve come here. You come here to hear a talk and you can’t even pay attention to who you’ve come to listen to. How can you pay attention to the food you eat, or the feel of the sun on your skin?"

He then walked off before finishing the lecture he agreed to.

But his audience wasn't actually distracted by their phones...

They were taking notes.

And I guess he wasn't used to having such a studious audience. He didn't even consider cultural differences or even people needing to translate things.

Personally, I'd see note-taking as a sign of respect, but I suppose he had no way of knowing what they were using their phones for.

Eventually he was told the audience was taking notes. He said he "felt better" about the situation. And that is where I feel he lost me. He didn't apologize. He didn't agree to redo the lecture. He just attended to his own feelings about the situation and didn't consider the audience that clearly wanted to learn from him.

Personally, I have a hard time connecting with Stephen's work.

And his portraits are all very... deer in headlights.

He just kinda blasts people in the face with a flash.

I think the only thing that saves these photos is the unfamiliar era and being shot on film.

I think the idea is to find beauty and art in the mundane. But I just see the mundane.

Though, plenty of people have trouble with my product photography for similar reasons. I love sculpting with light. I like seeing if I can take a jar of hair gel or nail clippers and make them beautiful and interesting just with fancy lighting. But so many people say it looks fake or like soulless CGI.

So maybe I don't have any room to speak about these mundane photos.

I guess it is the "craft vs art" spectrum.

There are people that only do technical photography. Like those Amazon product shots on white backgrounds. There is archival photography, archeological photography, and forensic photography. Private investigators use some very advanced telephoto techniques usually reserved for artistic bird photography to capture cheating partners.

There is no limit to how advanced and technical photography can get and often artistic intent is not involved.

But there are also purely artistic photographers that only learn the bare minimum to accomplish their aesthetic goals and just lean into the artistic message over the technical quality of the actual photos.

Like a guitarist only learning power chords.

Some photographers will even brag about how non-technical they are and wear it as a badge of honor—as if that makes them more authentic. They act like they are above learning that techie mumbo jumbo. Or they will claim they are too old to learn it.

Annie Leibovitz barely knows how modern cameras work. All of the lights are set for her. She has another photographer take test photos and once he has dialed in all of the settings, he hands her the camera and she presses the button. She knew her shit back in the days of film but she is more of an art director nowadays. I don't know if I could do what she does. I think she is still quite artistically skilled and often gets good results. But I just don't care for her attitude that she can't learn new things. As I get older I try very hard to make sure I don't fall into that mentality.

On the flip side, Ansel Adams built custom dark rooms with special equipment that he basically invented to help him develop or "photoshop" his film photography. He learned every technical detail that could fit in his brain so he could use it to elevate his photography.

But he also realized that you could be both technical and artistic. He blended art and craft so brilliantly and I think that is my sweet spot. When people take the time to figure out both aspects and don't lean too far one way or the other on that spectrum.

I just have trouble connecting with photography that is all art and no craft. I like seeing the effort and skill along with the beauty and vision. I like when someone does something I cannot yet do and gives me something to strive for in my own art. I like when photographers push their tools to do more interesting and creative things.

Richard Avedon was a famous photographer during the same era as Stephen Shore. And when I see his photos it tickles the "I love this" part of my brain.

[ See image descriptions and more of his work here ]

Not all of his work was very technical. He did a mix of studio work and candid portraiture. One of those photos is blurry and I still love it. But you can see the skill in every photo. The effort and experience and technical knowledge blended with the artistic intuition. He took photos of celebrities and just folks in the street. He also did photojournalism in mental hospitals.

I just find that a lot more compelling than a plant in the corner.

However, intellectually, I understand the plant in the corner is important. We cannot gatekeep art and put requirements on how it is created. My brain just has trouble appreciating that type of photography. Though I can imagine why someone would find it appealing.

That said, I'd definitely attend one of Stephen's lectures. And I guess I'd be sure to bring a notepad instead of a phone.

[tokiwarcube]

How They Celebrate Your Birthday

All the boys + Charles for this one!

Charles Foster Offdensen

Taking care of the boys is a full-time task, but that doesn’t mean he misses your birthday — not by a long shot. But be careful not to let your birth date slip — the guys would be all too happy to use it as an excuse to take all seven of you out to some insane party. Or you know, do, if that’s your style. A birthday is an excuse to celebrate, and there’s very little they won’t do to see Charles get sloshed — with his partner, nonetheless.

Otherwise, he really makes you feel loved throughout the day. Little notes in the morning, littered around the house — on the nightstand, the bathroom counter, by your morning mug. Among those are a request to let him know when you wake, so he can order in for you. He wishes he could stay for breakfast, truly, but he’s not going to wake you up at 4:00am on your birthday. God knows you work hard enough as is.

He checks in throughout the day, seemingly just a little more eager than usual to talk with you, and hear your voice. Call him sentimental, but he really wishes he could spend the full day with you. Alas, work calls.

Another note — Check under the sofa, be ready by 6:00. I love you, happy birthday.

He really shines when he comes home, though. A hand on the small of your back, adjusting the nonexistent imperfections in the perfectly-tailored outfit he had left for you, purely for the sake of touching, of holding. And from there, the night is yours. Dinner, dancing, a show… it’s all so cliche on paper, but he really makes you feel loved. A classical romance. He makes the cliche seem new, seem real, seem genuine.

Charles is a very, very attentive man, so it’s really no surprise when he brings out your real gift at the end of the night, and it just so happens to be the perfect thing. Although surprisingly, it’s not something you’ve ever asked for. Perhaps never even thought of, or seen — and yet, it’s so clearly tailored to your tastes. He’s good like that.

As the two of you are falling asleep towards the end of the night, he can’t help but check in — Did you have a good time tonight? As though he didn’t serve you your very own Hallmark moment. Again, he’s sweet like that.

Nathan Explosion

You know, for a man, who hates the media, he is pretty adamant on having a big party for you. Like yeah, he hates the publicity, but it’s you. And you deserve the darkest, most brutal birthday party of them all.

He knows you very well, don’t get me wrong, but he’s liable to overthink things a little. He could benefit a bit from some hints as to what exactly you’d like to do for your birthday… he’d like to avoid another Rockzo incident, if possible. But even if you do drop a few hints, he likes to surprise you with the results. You’ll have a lot of fun, but you might have a little heart attack first. He makes up for it, though.

Most of the heartfelt things are done earlier in the day, and the real party is reserved for night time. The boys already give him enough shit for how whipped he is for you, so a live performance is basically out of the question (lest the two of you be subjected to a healthy amount of ribbing from your peers), but that’s not to say he doesn’t attempt something similar. Instead, he writes, and has everyone record their parts individually — never quite saying what it’s for — and compiles it himself, solo. It’s not the usual production quality, but that’s not what you’re looking for — it’s sweet. Steeped in ichor and shadow, sure, but sweet nonetheless.

He’s usually pretty insatiable with PDA, and that doubles when drunk. But when drunk, on your birthday? You have to pry him off with a crowbar. He usually doesn’t talk actively about you in front of the cameras — God knows the media already knows way too much about the two of you — but tonight, he can’t seem to stop talking about how fucking awesome you are, and how it’s your birthday, and—

You’ll have a good time teasing him about it in the morning, once the hangover dulls.

Pickles the Drummer

Just when you think he’s partied as hard as he can, he finds a way to outdo himself. And your birthday is quite the opportunity, no?

Listen, if you want to have a nice, quiet day in, he’s happy to oblige. It’s your birthday, and he’s damn determined to make it the best one yet. And if that’s your version of a good time, he’s ready to get some takeout from that random place on the corner that you like — even though there’s a perfectly good Michelin 5-star restaurant in their house — and just hang out. Yes, really.

But if you want to get fucked up? Babe, we’re partying around the world. Fuck it, let’s go for a week! Best birthday ever, right? Whatever you say, goes.

It’s not all drugs, mind you — he’s got other things planned, too. The schedule just allows for a bit of inebriation in-between… or during. Listen, if you can deal with crowds while high, it’s real fun to go to a show or two. Everything is just so vibrant, so fluid — whether you’re up front with wide eyes or twirling in the back, Pickles makes it a very, very fun experience. And as much as he would like to get trashed beyond belief, the high tolerance does come in rather handy in moments like these — he’s happy to babysit you a bit, if it makes you feel more secure.

Surprising noone, he is a very, very good gift giver. After everything is said and done, and you’re both blinking awake the next day, that’s when he shuffles around to find the gift he set aside. He wanted to make sure it didn’t get lost in the haze, after all. Despite everything, he’s a fantastic listener, and somehow, he always seems to find that one special thing you’ve been looking for.

Skwisgaar Skwigelf

Complete royalty treatment — so long as he’s there (or, perhaps more aptly, the Klokateers are), you won’t be lifting a finger. He’s such a diva about it — you thought he was bad when it came to him, but with you? Beyond words. Consequently, this also means that everybody within a 50mi radius will know that its your birthday. He’s very embarrassing about it too, with how he takes the chance to coo about it whenever he gets the chance. Very saccharine — borderline patronizing, if you didn’t know him so well to know its the opposite — with an undertone of something you just can’t place. Although despite the embarrassment, you can’t lie — it does make your heart flutter just a little bit. You can’t tell if he’s getting off on it, or if he’s just excited to have a day where you have to let yourself be pampered.

He is very adamant about getting you an actual gift — not just sex, surprising everyone — and he’s really rather thoughtful about it. He listens a bit more aptly than usual in the months leading up to your birthday, and does his best to actually keep it a secret… with varying success. But it’s the thought that counts. When morning comes, he’s already at the foot of your shared bed, gift in hand. He doesn’t like extracting himself from your hold in the morning, but today, he’ll make an exception. Hard not to, when you tiredly paw at the gift — he places a quick kiss to your forehead before the gift is fully unwrapped, just out of softness.

He’s generally up for anything you want to do, and with the seemingly unlimited funds that come with stardom, nothing really bars you from fucking around on the daily… but now, he’s especially game for whatever you want to do today. If there’s anything you’ve been begging to drag him to do, now’s the time — he’ll do it for you, with only minor complaints.

To that end, while he does have the Klokateers wait on you hand and foot, you’re in charge of where the day goes. It’s your big day after all.

But yes, the birthday sex is phenomenal. That’s a given.

Toki Wartooth

Every birthday Toki’s had since joining Dethklok has been nothing if not extravagant — he makes it a point to live every day like it’s his last day on Earth, but birthdays? Birthdays go above and beyond — no holds barred. So with his partner, the love of his life? You may as well be royalty.

Although, in typical style, Toki strikes a perfect balance between heartfelt and lavish. He’ll buy you the world if you only ask — or perhaps, even if you don’t — but interspersed are his own, handmade gifts. This year he planned a worldwide adventure, but he also slotted in your favorite hole-in-the-wall restaurants into his scheduling. His planning abilities are lackluster for the average event, but he really puts his all into it for birthdays. (Although if you walk into Charles’ office at just the right time, you do gain a little bit of insight into who did the actual “organizing” part. Toki has the ideas, and Charles organizes it into something that won’t give you whiplash.)

He’s honestly so excited for your birthday, you’d think it was his own. He lets you wake up on your own, despite his own eagerness — but he can’t help placing a kiss to your lips as you blink the sleep from your eyes. Light, still floating on the ghost of your dreams, it’s a very sweet moment. That is, until he’s tugging you upwards to go on your adventures for the day.

One tradition he is very insistent on, is birthday cake. Very adamant about having a candle for every year of life — the number candles do not count — and making a wish. He always asks what you wished for, but don’t answer — it’s a trap. He’ll actively cover your mouth if you try to tell him, scolding you — didn’t you know the wish doesn’t come true if you say what it was?

William Murderface

Birthdays fucking suck — it’s another year closer to death, and nobody will fucking leave you alone, they give you all this shit you don’t want, and—

Yeah, that’s all bullshit. He loves birthdays, he’s just… never really celebrated them in a way that’s fun to him. Growing up it was all about going to the shitty little community park in town, with the hot metal slides that always managed to burn him, and if it wasn’t that, it was going to the run-down minigolf place on the outskirts that always reeked of stagnant water and old cheese. Boring. A chore. But recently, his tune has changed a bit. I mean sure, the boys aren’t always great at showing that they care, but they certainly make birthdays fun. Worth having. So despite having very little frame of reference, he really strives to make every one of your birthdays memorable, too.

Except again, he has… no idea what to do. Sure, he knows what you like to do, but you do those things every day. And it would be weird to ask, because isn’t it supposed to be a surprise? He spends night after night, quite literally, googling ideas on what to do. Unsurprisingly, Google isn’t very helpful in this department, considering the mass amount of wealth and time William has. It’s a miracle how he hasn’t been caught in planning.

But he really does put so much thought into the celebration, and is very, very particular about getting everything just right. He really takes the “diva” crown from Skwisgaar, on this occasion. This color is not the same shade he sent them, he’s certain of it, and it will be corrected before you have the chance to see it. Wh- yes it matters, this isn’t your favorite color, the one he sent was. Jeez, some people.

You’ve always known that he loves you, but it really bleeds through in all of the little decisions he makes for your big day. He’s more inclined to go big and flashy — and if you’re the type, he really does go above and beyond — but if you’re the quieter type, he sets the atmosphere perfectly. And he might be sweating a bit beneath the collar in the latter case, but it’s the thought that counts.