#tingly tones

[escapedaudios]

I know it's uncouth to publicly drag another voice actor, but considering that this talentless fuck is using AI voices now I can hardly consider him a fellow VA anymore so it's open season on him. Let the record show that I hate Tingly Tones and I have had nothing but disdain for him from the first time he ever interacted with me. I've never seen someone so deeply involved in making audio roleplay have such a cynical point of view on the medium, it's practically contemptuous the way he disregards even the faintest sliver of integrity.

What the AI generated FUCK am I looking at here. AI generated images, AI generated text to speech, AI mods on his own voice because he burned every bridge he ever had and can't get anyone to collab with him anymore. I suspect he even uses AI generated scripts, seeing as he's a known script thief and God knows this fucking fraud could never string a coherent paragraph together, let alone a script. This dude sincerely sees audio roleplay as a cheap way to get clout and money. He can't even come up with a pitch. He's begged me to collab before, not by actually offering a role or a project mind you, but simply by kissing my ass and hoping that would get me pull all the weight for his sake in exchange for the offer of a nondescript feature on his dogshit channel.

He's tried every cheap in the book to try and grow his channel. Following every stupid trend and popular search term, mass-generating AI images, animating his audios with AI, trying to duct-tape stolen scripts into cohesive ongoing stories, trying to ride other's coattails every time a new VA starts to gain traction, spamming everyone (including minors) trying to peddle his NSFW Patreon. Everything other than actually making a good audio, an ability that he does not have and never will have.

The fact that this hack has more subs than many far more talented VAs is actually disgraceful. The number of Patrons he has bankrolling this slop is embarrassing. Attention coming to channels like this makes the whole audio roleplay scene look like shit, the fact that this garbage even exists is insulting to the medium. If Tingly Tones has zero haters, I'm dead. May his teeth crumble and his tongue rot away.

[slettlune]

unsurprised to see that paris the musical is one of my most played albums this year. that musical has a shocking amount of asmr moments for me

[sttoru]

plsplsplspl soft intimate sex with satoru:(

 𝝑𝑒 𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐒. gojo satoru x female reader. smut, pwp. unprotected. praise kink. spooning position. crēampie. cōckwarming. reader gets called ‘baby, pretty, sweetheart, princess’

“it’s okay, baby, i know,” satoru whispers words of comfort in your ear from behind. one of his arms is wrapped around your waist to keep your body close, the other circles your thigh, holding up your leg so his cock could slide in and out smoothly.

you’ve both just woken up from an afternoon nap, needy for each other’s touch. your lover’s raspy voice paired with his bedhead has been an irresistible combination.

satoru wasted no time in pulling your shorts down and freeing his erection from its confines. he went from rolling his hips against the fat of your ass and fondling your tits under your shirt, to burying his fat dick all the way up your cunt.

he’s so soft—so caring. his butterfly kisses make you drowsy again, the tingly sensations running from your face to your nape, and back down to your shoulders and upper arms. “let it out, yeah—good girl. don’t be shy,” satoru chuckles softly as he grinds his cock upwards, tip prodding at that sweet spot that makes your toes curl.

your eyes are half-lidded and blurry. you’re feeling so good and loved, so pleased and happy to have a partner like him. “right there, ‘toru,” you whimper quietly once you feel the head of his dick rub back and forth on the deepest parts of your velvety insides. satoru happily obliges, hugging your body even tighter to his chest before burying his face into the crook of your neck.

“here, baby?” the white-haired man asks, his hot breath sending a shiver down your spine as it ghosts over your skin. he keeps his dick balls deep inside you and switches to slow and shallow strokes, “y’re so pretty. you always know jus’ how to take it. so, so, so good.”

your hands are scrambling to hold onto the white sheets. you can’t physically take the amount of pleasure you’re getting, that inevitable peak gets closer and closer. your hips involuntarily jolt back against satoru, reciprocating his gentle thrusts. a big hand reaches out to yours that’s tugging at the covers, slender fingers intertwining with your own.

“m’sgood,” you mumble incoherently through a soft whimper. your back is positioned in a nasty arch that makes satoru’s dick tingle. he sighs against your nape before allowing his tongue to wet the skin, sucking on the same spot soon after. he does the same to your sensitive ears and neck—covering you with his love while also filling your body with the same.

satoru holds your hand tightly, squeezing it every now and then to reassure you. “i love you so much, y’know that, right?” he says in a gentle tone. he’s confessed his love to you so many times before, though he always makes it sound like it’s his first time doing so.

“i’m never letting you go, ever,” your partner promises before leaning over your shoulder to catch your lips in a kiss. satoru’s tongue sweeps over your bottom lip before rolling around in your warm mouth. his hips don’t stop, cock repeatedly appearing and disappearing inside of your pussy. the pace never escalates to make the moment last longer.

“mhmm— wanna b-be with you forever,” you mutter against his glossy lips, feeling safe and protected in satoru’s embrace like this. all you’re feeling, hearing and smelling is him. that’s what peace is for you. as long as you got him, you’re going to be just fine.

satoru smiles at your words. you feel so perfect around him, your cunt molded to fit his cock whenever he pleases, remembering its shape and allowing it to ruin your insides. “of course, sweets. i’ll treat you so well, ‘kay? you can count on me,” he comforts you with a forehead kiss.

“pretty girl. you’re perfect,” satoru continues to praise you like no other. his free hand runs over the small of your back and back to your thigh, keeping a gap between them so his cock can move a bit more freely. “let me hear your cute moans, c’mon. fuck, y’ turn me on so much,” he sighs, not knowing what he’d do without you.

satoru is obsessed with all of you. the combination of your personality and looks is heavenly. his lips never stop distracting you, his tender kisses covering your entire upper body. the lovey dovey atmosphere in the room never dulls even once.

“ah, ‘toruu, hnghh—can’t last f’ any longer,” you moan, your eyes nearly rolling back. your lover is all the evidence needed to let you know that sex doesn’t have to be rough to be good. he can make you cum for an infinite amount of times by simply grinding his hips against you—changing his techniques every now and then.

rolling his hips in small circles or simply pressing his cock all the way inside your cunt and then prodding at your sweet spots, is all what’s needed to make you feel like you’re on cloud nine.

“aww, my poor baby. can’t hold it in f’me?” satoru pouts before kissing your temples lovingly. he caresses your hip, other hand still not letting go of your hand. there’s such a deep connection between you two—no one can ever sever it. that strong bond feels more intimate when you’re merged into one like this.

“nooo, can’t,” you shake your head and whine about how close you are. satoru nods at your needy words and dips a hand down to rub your clit. his middle and ring finger move around the small bundle of nerves in circles. “khehe, that’s okay. let’s cum together,” he whispers as kisses find their way down your jawline.

you hum in agreement, little moans filling satoru’s ears as you get closer to your climax. your body trembles and heats up, your tummy tingles and tenses up. satoru’s in the same situation as you, his low moans turning into hisses and even quiet whines against the skin of your shoulder.

he holds you close, preparing both of you to reach your long awaited releases. “sh—shit, ‘m g’nna pull out, baby—give me a second,” you hear him whimper under his breath as his hand tightens its grip around yours. he’s nearly crushing your bones.

you don’t give him time to even think of pulling his cock out. you want to relive the sensation of having his seed spread inside of your cunt, overflowing until it’s dirtying the sheets. “no- ‘toru. inside, please,” you beg quietly as your pussy locks around his cock. your walls cling onto his dick, yearning to milk his heavy balls dry of every drop.

satoru gasps and hisses, trying to speak up, but getting overpowered by his own noises of desperation. “fuck, all right, princess. as you wish,” his voice is husky and deep as he pushes his cock in to the base before dumping his load inside you.

ropes of hot cum come out quickly, one after the other, filling you with a hot creamy liquid. you can feel every drop being drained inside your spasming cunt. your own cum mixes with his, creating a lewd mess between your thighs.

“th-thank you,” you whisper tiredly. your body relaxes in satoru’s embrace. you’re trembling due to the intense aftershocks and your lover wastes no time into kissing it better. your forehead is peppered with small pecks, the rest of your face following.

satoru giggles at your fucked out state. he gives you a head pat and nuzzles his face into the crook of your neck. you can feel him grinning uncontrollably against your skin—the joy emitting from him is contagious.

“any time,” he sighs. you can feel his cock softening after that release, still nestled deep inside of you. he has no intention of pulling out, especially since it’s so comfortable. you let him cum inside you and thus he’ll do everything to keep that hot load buried deep inside your cunt.

you can nearly fall asleep like this with satoru. you have zero complains and simply need to relax after what just happened. perhaps take another nap or two.

the white-haired man kisses your shoulder and rubs your lower tummy, enjoying the softness, “i’m gonna prepare us a warm, relaxing bath in a second. let’s just cuddle some more, baby.”

[yawnderu]

>Simon has a neet weirdo as a best friend Or Simon Riley lets his best friend see his naked body for art references.

This wasn't the way Simon was expecting to spend his PTO; naked in his best friend's bed with his hand covering his soft cock, hoping not to make you uncomfortable as you took notes of his body's reactions.

“Can you like... get hard?” He was trying his best not to get hard, going as far as to think about gross things he's seen throughout the years to distract himself from the feeling of your nails raking up and down his bare stomach, defined muscles tensing and bulging beneath your palm.

“'S not how it works.” He grumbled out, tired brown eyes looking away from you. Simon isn't embarrassed— not at all, he's simply not used to someone inspecting him the way you are, curious eyes fully focused on his body, taking in every single tattoo and scar, living proof of how many times he's kicked death's ass.

“Well, just think about... I don't know, tits.” He lets out a dry chuckle at the awkwardness in your tone, trying your best to keep it professional in the name of art. He looks down at you with pure amusement the moment he sees your hand drifting up, tracing the outline of his defined, muscular pecs.

You take a second to fully admire the view in front of you, absent-mindedly starting to play with his erect nipple, not registering the way his breath hitches. Simon looks like a gladiator— lightly tanned skin making his rippling muscles stand out greatly, becoming the virtual image of ancient Greek fantasies, a plethora of scars showing how often he crosses the edge of death.

“Gettin' a bit touchy there.” His playful tone doesn't save the mild embarrassment, about to let go of his nipple before his rough, calloused hand grasps your wrist, encouraging you to keep touching him.

“'S working.” Simon's other hand moves out of the way slightly, just barely enough for you to see his hardening cock, veins starting to become more prominent along his long, meaty shaft. He doesn't protest when you move his hand out of the way, getting a perfect look at him.

“That's... oddly interesting.” The awkwardness coming from you never fails to amuse him, only making his ego inflate by the second, even when you look down at your notebook to keep taking notes of his body's reactions.

“Does it feel weird to get a boner?” He thinks about it for a few seconds before shaking his head, holding back a laugh at the blunt questions. In the name of art, she says.

“Not weird, just... I don't know, bird.” The expectant look that you give him distracts him for a second, trying to think of a better way to explain it.

“Feels good. Bit tingly most of the time, and you can feel it... y'know, grow.” Explaining what getting a boner feels like isn't the weirdest thing he's done for you, half-lidded brown eyes focused on the way you simply nod and keep taking notes, using his words as inspiration for the erotic novels he knows you write.

The room is almost quiet for a few minutes, Simon's breathing becoming harder being the only sound, feeling your soft hands caressing every single inch of his skin, feeling him up more than he can take... and ultimately edging him without even being aware, stopping to take notes every once in a while.

“I can show you how a man jacks off, too. For the sake of art, yeah?”

[screampied]

boss at work and lovers in private w hiromi? He was very strict with the user at work and acts a bit rude/mean sometimes with reader.

But once they got home he fucks her nice and slow in bed as an apology for being mean at work <3

❤︎ ໋𓈒 higuruma who’s strictly mean in the workplace but makes sure to make it up to you at home.

warnings. fem! reader, dirty talk, unprotected, doggystyle, praise.

higuruma was a man who always took work seriously…

a workaholic if you will.

you always found yourself trying to tease him sometimes whenever he’d be working, and he’d just give you a glare. oftentimes, he’d be a bit stern and perhaps rude. although you couldn’t deny the bass in his tone whenever he spoke to you with such seriousness made you feel a bit…tingly.

just the rough rasp in his tone whenever he spoke directly to you, withholding intimate eye contact and telling you to stop fooling around and focus at the job at hand.

nevertheless, he did feel a bit bad, in fear that feasibly he was a bit too mean to his pretty baby. so he promises to make it up to you once the two of you get home. and that’s exactly what he does.

you couldn’t wait and neither could he. higuruma remained with his work clothes on, long black slacks pulled down briefly and the only sounds you could make out was the clanking of his belt. letting off a choked whine, you were willingly taking him from behind, and his touch..

higuruma stretches you out continuously with such ease, he’s got both of your wrists pinned behind your back before muttering, “i’m sorry baby. was i annoying you earlier?”

“y-yeah.” you moaned, feeling his tip brush right against that spot.

amorously, he slides a tongue across his lips while drilling into your cunt—you’re a stuttering mess. with a low chuckle departing from his lips, he hums.

“good,” and you bite your lip, his thrusts fulfilling you entirely. each sloppy hit that went against you time and time again, it left your mind completely dumbfounded. a quite perfect synonym to define your current state after all. “oh, don't whine all cute like that, y’know ‘m just teasing..”

higuruma’s words were so smooth and his tone was wholly soft spoken.

for a second, he dips his hips against you and you whimper, running your restrained fingers against his.

“god, you’re so pretty from behind. you know that, sweetheart?” his words went straight towards your pussy, that never failed to twitch on constant repeat. “such a perfect view. wish you could see for yourself, my love.”

“h-hirooo,” you’d mewl out, the right side of your cheek pressed down against the plump mattress. he knew just where to strike you with his dick, not too rough and not too soft.

just right. immensely, your toes curled each time he’d run his tip against your g-spot for a good two seconds, eliciting a loud moan from you. “fuck, f-fuck.”

“baby, you’ve got quite the mouth on you, huh?” he pokes fun, and you shiver once you feel the cold band of his watch trail against your skin. he presses a hand down your back, making you arch for him just a bit more and your eyes roll back yet again. “you’ve been pestering me at work all day, ‘s this what you wanted hm? wanted some attention—?”

the pleasures that pierced through your body was indefinable.

all you knew was that it felt so good, the way he pivots and smacks his hips softly against your ass, rolling and rotating them to where your head’s spinning like a merri go round.

“no,” you lied, and he huffs out a breath, grinning at you still having some brat left within you. once he deepens his thrusts for a short second, your mind pauses—you’re dumb, cock dumb if that even was a correct term for it, and you moan out. “y-yes.. you’re right, you were just so m-mean.”

he groans, feeling your slick start to stick against him throughout each movement he makes by rutting in and out of your greedy pussy.

“if i make you cum one more time, will that make up for it then, sweetheart?”

“m-mhm,” you’d nod, strings of your own spit falling against the sheets — oh, how much of a mess you were for him. only higuruma could have you like this, in this position. face nearly pushed against the mattress yet he’s presenting you with soft gentle thrusts. “make me cum, please hiromi.”

“pretty girl, you know i will,” he murmurs, and you let off a muffled moan once you bite your teeth into the pillow that remained underneath your chest. it was just the way his thickness dragged so easily against your folds. you could never get enough, his size had you drooling with such lewdness. “relax, don’t wanna strain that cute voice with all that moaning do ya?”

he watches you shake your head, and he chortles.

“sweet thing,” and his hips were so sensual against you, it was unfathomable to how good it made you feel. how good he made you feel. in the pit of your stomach—you felt something stirring, brewing up inside. butterflies perhaps, you pulsed between your thighs before he feels your leg start to jitter in utter anticipation. “ooh. ‘s coming isn’t it? you feel it too, my love?”

“r-right there,” you’d squeal, and by this particular point, your legs grew limp. his movements were unpredictable. higuruma’s jaw tightens as he’s balls deep, gawking at you clawing your nails down the white silkened sheets before bawling it up into the palms of your hands. “gonna c-cum, hiro. hiro.”

he slides a thumb against the corner of your back, maintaining a gentle tip against your hips before uttering in a husky voice, “yeah you are. c’mon baby. just let go for me. ‘s okay to be a little messy, yeah?”

“okay,” you’d babble, such thick inches that remained inside of you. your knees grew weak, he had such a grip against your waist that the pads of his thumbs pressed lightly down before caressing. higuruma always knew your most tenderest bits, the spots to drive you crazy. “h-hiro, ‘m cumming..”

a gasp exits from your mouth once you felt it, your entire body paused and juddered as a response.

your lips parted and the feeling made you grow quiet for a moment — ears, the very tips of them reaching such warmth of heat before you moan out his name once more. “t-thank you, thank you.”

“don’t thank me yet, gorgeous.” he whispers, leaning in to press a kiss against your back. “we aren’t done,” he says, and your legs still shook, sensitive before he turns you over to face him, pressing a wet kiss against your mouth. “i need more of you, and you need to be reminded of your place,” and his words were filled with such flirtatiousness yet was delivered so sweet. “so, just lie back and let me fond over this body just a little while longer.”

[starkeyisthelastname]

neeeeeeed more dilf!husband rafe 😭🙏

been thinking about him 🤭💦

Because one of dilf/husband!Rafe’s favorite things to do during the holidays is fuck you by the fireplace. While there was one downstairs, you two did take full advantage of the beautiful one in master bedroom you shared. Lights dim, furry blanket spread out, empty wine glasses knocked out all while you were getting piped down by your gorgeous husband. The two of you’s bodies glistened from the heat of the fireplace and rounds you had been going at now for hours.

Rafe had a crazy amount of stamina, and being in his thirties didn’t slow him down one bit. The way the fire cast a glow over his muscled frame, showing every bit of hard work he put in the gym had you mesmerized. Even after being together for so long, he never failed to amaze you. He had your legs over his broad shoulders, giving it to you deep as he pressed his toned hips into yours. Those striking cerulean eyes were hooded, looking down at you with the utmost admiration.

“Baby… can’t get over how fucking beautiful you are.” He would breathe out, voice raspy. “You know I love to make mama feel good.” The fat tip kept hitting your sweet spot, your pussy filled to the brim with his huge cock. He was making you feel more than good, and you knew it was only a matter of minutes before you had another orgasm. Rafe knew it too by the way your cunt was squeezing his length so deliciously.

Your huge diamond ring and glittery band shined against his skin as you pressed your expensive manicured nails into his chest. “R-rafe… fuck baby… I’m gonna cum again!” You cried out, your pretty eyes rolling back and toes curling against him. The tingly in your lower stomach and your breathing becoming heavier was all signs that you were about to explode with pleasure.

Hearing that only made his thrusts harder, his own eyes threatening to roll back as he had held his own climax in for a few of hours now. He was ready to paint those walls, and be covered in your sweet juice. His buzz was damp, cheeks pink, breath quick as he laid into you deep. “Yeah? Keep those fucking eyes on me. There you go beautiful… make a fucking mess again.” His tone low, as his blue irises darkened at the way you started to squirt for the 10th time that night.

[eternityofend]

Another type of milk.

PAIRING: Francis Mosses x Female!Reader ( Slight Doppelganger!Francis Mosses x Reader. )

Requested: Can I request something for Francis, the Milkman? Like the scenario is: Y'all be talking then, they do it under the desk while the reader is working?

MDNI +18, NSFW.

You scroll through your phone, time ticking with each passing second as you get even more bored. Your job as a doorman was nice however the hours needed to work were plenty enough of time for you to wish you had never taken up such a job in the first place.

You hear a tap on the window as you see Francis in front of you, holding a carton of milk in his hands, his movements were sluggish and his eye bags were darker than when you last saw him.

You ignored the concern building in you and tried to find your wallet to pay for the milk you ordered from Francis, keyword: tried. You frantically searched your pockets and the drawers but there was no sign of a leather wallet in all of the places you searched.

Francis stares at you with a blank expression, completely minding his own business as he didn't question the amount of time it took for you to find your wallet.

"Hey.. can I pay you up in a different way?"

Francis raises his eyebrows, skeptical about your request but nods his head; far too kept up with how much time this delivery was taking. He wasn't used to social interaction anyway, he just wanted to get out.

You motion for him to come into your office, opening the gate for him and closing it once he went through.

A few minutes later, Francis knocks on your door and you let him in, he's still holding onto the carton of milk which you help him put on your desk.

"Mmmm.. so what's this different method of payment are you talking about?.." Francis mutters, his voice husky with the tiredness he felt from his job, tone as curious as ever.

You walk up to him, putting your hand on his chest while smiling innocently.

Francis looked at you with a curious expression, gulping as he was nervous about what you were going to do with him.

Francis looked at your eyelashes, and your pretty eyes, trying to distract himself from the weird thoughts he was thinking; perhaps he was watching too much inappropriate stuff, he should limit himself on that.

"Do you live alone?" You asked, knowing well what his answer would be.

Francis tore his gaze away from you, now staring at your wall. "Yes.."

He hears a small laugh come from you, and his body feels tingly with extreme nervousness. Why were you laughing? Did you expect him to have a roommate or something?

"So you have no one to milk you at home then?" You whisper in Francis's ears, watching him tense up as he caved in to your voice and touch.

You saw the way his knees trembled to hold onto his body, cheeks turning redder than the scarlet milk he frequently delivers.

You put a hand on his cheek, making him look at you with a smile on your face. "Let me help you, that's my payment." You utter, watching his eyes widen as he came across a conflicted statement-- not knowing what to choose.

You really didn't have to wait long.

Francis stares up at you, hand on his mouth as he leans against the wall, ears flushing with blush as he attempted to conceal his noises from you, afraid of someone hearing.

You rubbed your shoe against his bulge, looking at him with a mischievous look on your face, wanting to make him cum from a dry orgasm before you fully fuck him.

"Ah~ Hnn~ Ngn~" Francis moans out, his sounds muffled by how hard he was biting on his hand, throwing his head back at how lewd your method to pleasure him was.

His eyes were teary and his cheeks were flushed, he looked as if he already got fucked by you even if you hadn't advanced that fast yet.

You grin, pressing on his erection with the heel of your shoe-- enjoying the way he stuttered, gripping onto your leg with his free hand.

A tap on the window stops you from admiring him longer, and Francis panics. He couldn't run out because it would be suspicious if the visitor were to see someone come from below your desk, he didn't want to spread rumours as well if someone recognized him.

So he just sat there, both hands covering his mouth.

Wait.. what were you doing?

Francis bites onto his hand, heart pulsing as he felt your shoe rub more against his dick, you were crazy! Why were you still continuing?!

You grinned, twirling your hair as you faced a doppelganger of one of the visitors, not even having to check the ID to know it was a doppelganger.

You had to admit, it sure mimicked the resident properly, but if it weren't for the real Francis already being below your desk, you would've let the doppelganger of Francis in, there were barely any differences as well.

"Oh? My appearance..? I don't quite follow.." The doppelganger muttered, trying to keep calm as he felt rage from how fast you figured out he was a doppelganger.

You were not only a pretty doorman but a smart one too, the doppelganger held back on transforming, wanting to see if he could still convince you that he was the real one.

You chuckle at the doppelganger's confused expression, adding a bit more pressure to your shoe as you pressed on Francis's erection, hearing a small moan come out of him.

The doppelganger's eyes widened, looking around as he was confused at where the noise came from.

What a shame, you'd so tease the real Francis using the doppelganger if only you weren't allowed to spread the fact that Doppelgangers existed.

"I'm sorry, but I don't quite think I can let you in."

You rang the DDD and let them handle the situation, completely forgetting about Francis beneath you, trembling at how much pressure he was receiving.

By the time you remembered about him, you were already finished with the doppelganger situation, seeing him all teary and red just from your shoe.

You laugh, lifting his face up as you stop rubbing your shoe against his dick, grinning at him with a new idea in mind.

"Let's start with the milking process now, shall we, Milkman? But first, why don't you eat me out first?"

You catch his flustered expression as he nodded, moving his hands all the way to your thighs as he got rid of your panties.

Francis moves closer to your pussy, licking on it as his eyes widened from the taste, it was much different than the milk he was used to.

You let out a breathy moan, spreading your legs wider as you felt Francis shove his tongue straight into you, eating you out as if he was a man that was starved for years.

His tongue flicks against your clit, and you let out a full moan, suddenly closing your thighs around Francis's head, he didn't seem to mind however.

"Shit... you sure know how to eat pussy.." You mumble, biting on your lip as you run your fingers through his hair, enjoying the sensation of his cold wet tongue.

Francis's hooked nose makes you moan as it pressed against your pussy because of how close he was.

You moan, throwing your head back when you feel Francis's tongue licking on your clit, lapping it up as if it was water.

Your grip on his hair tightens, clenching down on his tongue as you orgasmed.

Francis moans beneath you, the vibration running across your entire body making you shake and tremble.

You breathe out, your pussy pulsing while Francis explored your insides, eager to drink up all of your cum, not letting a single drop go to waste.

You pull Francis's head away to face towards you. And the moment you see the expression on his face, your pussy twitches at the sight. His eyes are half-lidded, staring at you while his tongue and mouth were filled with your cum.

Francis smiles, and swallows your cum right in front of you, making you bite your lip from how aroused you were.

"We aren't done yet, Milkman." You grin.

But apparently the story is done! I hope you enjoyed the story, this is my second time writing smut :)

[anantaru]

・✶ ｡ synopsis — wanting alhaitham's attention wasn't a want, it was a need <3

warnings — neck kissing, dry humping, fingering, fem! reader <3

mouth parting and lingering open wide, you don't even bother to be subtle anymore— what mattered was that alhaitham's lap had been so comfortable as he sat fully focused on his desk, engrossed in ancient texts while never giving you a single drop of his attention.

you watch his every move with a mischievous glint in your eye, "you're pretty when you focus," you began, your voice low and playful, "but you also look a little stiff, here—"

alhaitham's hand froze mid-turn of a page as you brushed a digit over his neck, his face turning to you, eyebrows raised and cheeks aflame, "is that so?" he murmurs and swallows a growl, his tone more intrigued than surprised, really.

without waiting for a response, you slant your head lower, your hands finding their way to his shoulders as you press down on his neck— here you were, inhaling his scent as his breath hitches immediately, your lips brushing against his skin before he grits his teeth.

the moment you lick across the skin, he feels an almost tingly feeling burn down the pit in his stomach when you find his sweet spot— his body tensing up, only resulting in you sucking harder and hollowing your cheeks.

it's cruel— but alhaitham knows you by now, despite that he was trying so hard not to moan but it's just so difficult when you're grinding down on his dick too, you hear? so miserably difficult.

fuck, you're so hot.

he closes his eyes, leaning into your touch, the words and pages of his book long since forgotten as the sensation of your lips on his neck took over the entirety of his mind.

his large palms cup your ass as he began to rub you back and forth his erection, tensing, his fingers gripping at the edge of your waist when his eyes flash with hunger, intoxication and the need to feel something, more than he already did.

right after you found that perfect spot just below his ear, he shudders, his hands sliding down your garments and underwear to hold a fistful of your bare behind, "trying not to moan, are we?" you tease, sucking harder.

a low groan escapes his lips, "you're insufferable," as he whispers, but there was no real irritation in his voice, only a deep, simmering need that needed to be fed.

you approvingly smile against his skin, your sucks and laps of tongue growing more difficult to ignore before you slide one hand into his hair, tugging hard— you can see it in his eyes, his composure was slowly slipping and you fucking reveled in it.

kissing your way up his neck, each of your licks were with purpose, growing inside a tantalizing bubble.

alhaitham's breath grew ragged, his control unraveling under the assault of your lips— and naturally, you took your time, worshipping his neck with your mouth as his digits hovered over your folds, collecting your slick and starting to slowly pump one in and out.

you moan, nibbling gently at his earlobe as he inserts another finger, scissoring your cunt while simultaneously trapping you with one large arm wrapped around your waist.

he elicits a sharp intake of breath from you, his tongue now too, hiding in your neck and tracing a slow, sensual path along the curve of your neck, savoring the taste of your skin.

©2024 anantaru do not repost, copy, translate, modify

[servicpop]

correcting wrongs nsfw teacher ! zhongli x student brat ! bttm m reader

Clad in a brown turtleneck with an almost unamused expression on his face, your professor was nothing short of being “the best in the business.” His stoic nature paired with those strikingly sharp features made him easy on the eyes, and strangely attractive.

He wasn't soft spoken, but his words were always delivered gently, tinged with a rasp from his low speaking register. A real heartthrob of a teacher.

Though he was kind to others, you seemed to be the one thing that made him slightly annoyed. Every conversation you had with him usually ended with a pinch of his nose bridge, a sigh, and a dismiss with the wave of his hand. Your bratty attitude towards him was almost bearable until it wasn't.

In a cliché fashion, Zhongli had asked you to come to his office in the afternoon when classes finished, and you did.

“Are my teaching methods not good enough for you?” You can hear the exhaustion weigh on his words as he pushes himself off the chair to stand.

You don't respond, the words seem to dissipate in your throat the moment he begins to scold you.

“What is the issue? I'm trying to understand,” A hand grabs your shoulder, and you lift your head to glance at Zhongli's face. He wears the classic 'teacher expression,' one that oddly reminds you of a parent.

“I'm more of a hands on learner,” you shrug, and its apparent in Zhongli's face that he picks up your little tease. There's a slight confusion in his eyes before it's masked to be unreadable. A sigh leaves his lips as his hands move to cuff the edges of his sleeve up, sliding his watch off and placing it on his desk with a small thud.

“I'm willing to adjust my methods if it means you'll behave more accordingly.” He carefully grabs your wrist, guiding it towards the papers on his desk, planting your hand firmly onto the sheet. Zhongli stands behind you, his chest almost touching your back from how close he was. He lets your fingers trace the printed letters to study the content on the page, but it's all a jumble of useless words to you, especially when your attractive teacher is right behind you.

“This is boring,” you whine, trying to pull your hand from underneath Zhongli's.

“Are you having difficulty concentrating?” He asks, the velvety tone of his voice violates your ears like it's crawling through your brain. It's a tingly feeling you can't shake off.

“As if it would be that—” You're cut off by the involuntary hitch of your breath as his cold fingers grace the side of your waist. They travel down to your hips, sneaking under your pants before they retreat.

“Maybe some concentration exercises? To help you stop getting distracted.”

You swallow. Thickly. You're about to jab a snarky remark at him before you feel his hand push down the back of your head, forcing you to look down at the worksheets on his desk. His free hand wrangles his tie, pulling it off to bind your wrists together. Zhongli rests his hands on your hips as he leans into your ear, his breath hot against the shell.

“Do you want me to stop?” Zhongli's fingers rest lightly on the waistband of your pants, like he's waiting for the greenlight to pull them off. He's too patient with you—he doesn't pry at all—and when you don't give him a response he kindly removes himself from you.

“No— um,” You stumble over your words as he pulls away, unable to conjure a coherent sentence in your head to respond. It's almost like your pride is blocking your throat but you push out a few words, just so he knows.

“It's fine,” you breathe, quickly turning your head away from him to save yourself some dignity.

You don't see it, but he smiled ever so slightly, returning to his previous position. Zhongli's fingers slip down, slowly dragging the zipper lower as he watches your eyes fixate on the pages infront of you. His hands—oddly soft and warm—meets your pelvis before they slide down to the elastic of your underwear. With a small flick of his wrists, he's able to pull your boxers off and down low enough that it sits neatly at your mid thigh.

Your breath hitches and you drag your eyes away from the text and to his hands that are gently running up the sides of your thigh. He clicks his tongue disapprovingly, using his free hand to tap the sheet infront of you.

“Focus. Eyes on the paper.” His hands pull away from your body—only to unbuckle his belt, though you misinterprete his actions—and you spin your head around to question him. He's already pulled his belt off and taps your forehead with the end of it. “Needy,” he scolds.

Fabric noises fill the empty office and you see him reach over to dish a packet from his wallet—he keeps those on him at all time. You recognise the sound, the latex rolling on, the slight snap as he fixes it to be more comfortable, and the feeling of wetness against your skin.

He uses his hand to push the back of your head down once again, “Don't pay attention to what I am doing, focus on the content.” He's probably mentioned the word 'focus' five times by now.

Zhongli uses his thumb to part your flesh, giving way for him to nuzzle his head against your hole. He's exactly how you imagined him to be, except all you can really feel is the condom rather than his skin, none of his veins and all—which was, really, the more important details.

Its a slow movement as he slides himself into you, gently kneading the plush of your waist—an absent-minded habit you assume. He's not excruciatingly thick; he's rather average, but there's something about the way he could reach so deep without causing any external pain makes your knees buck just a little.

All the words and educational paragraphs all become a blur the moment he fully sheaths himself inside of you. He pauses, letting you soak in the situation before he pulls out, only just to slam himself back in. Your little gasps and moans earns another cruel thrust, forcing you to arch your back as he holds you in place.

“It's difficult, is it?” He's using that teacher tone on you, but you can tell there's a slight mock in his voice as he watches you disregard the paper, crumpling it under your hands as you grip at anything you can.

“I can always assign you easier work if that makes you feel better.” He tilts your head back, letting you see him through the corner of your eye as he continuously pounds into you, the obscene sound of skin against skin loud enough that you started to worry the janitors wold hear.

“I can do it,” you grit through your teeth despite the pants and whispers.

“I don't think you can,” he cooes, gently holding your jaw as he lets you rest your head against his palm. The only reason he's holding your head up is to ensure you don't get a headache from how hard your body is recoiling from his thrusts.

He practically drags his cock in and out of you, angling his hips in a way that would hit your prostate almost every single time. His hands were gentle on your skin, holding you like you were a porcelain doll, but his thrusts were punishing.

As your whines grew, he knew you were getting close, seeing the way your legs trembled underneath you, barely holding you up. The hand Zhongli had on your hip moves to pick up your leaking tip in his hands, smoothing his thumb over the slit. He holds it there, denying you of any release.

“Are you ready to listen in my lectures?” He hums, leaning his head down to get a good look at your face.

“No more talking back?” he adds, marvelling in the way you're eyes dip in and out of focus. You nod, unable to find your voice from how hard you were yelling while he was hitting all the right spots. He flashes a polite smile, removing his thumb from blocking your urethra and gently massaging your tip to coax out a orgasm.

It hits you like a train, sparks darting across your vision as your dick stiffens, spurting out a copious amount of white all over Zhongli's desk. You go limp in his hold, chest still heaving from the intensity of your high. It takes a few more, slow pumps before he's pulling out, taking off the used plastic and throwing it into the trash can underneath his desk.

“How was that? Did I do your 'hands on learning' correct?” He could really enchant someone with that voice.

a / n : sorry this was short T T I just needed to get something out . I literally forgot how Zhongli acted halfway through so this is probably very ooc . . .

[emmyrosee]

Geto doesn’t know how to respond to pet names.

It took him a long enough time to become used to the traditional “baby” and “love,” it was just recently when you started busting out these absurd nicknames for whatever thing you could be subjecting him too.

You were cooking once, and you called him “scnhookums” and asked him to pass the peppers. He dropped the tray.

Driving, you told your “stinky man” to take a left. He slammed on his brakes.

You’d been painting his nails and got some on his cuticle, and you asked your “little poop” to pass you some acetone. He just took his hands away.

It’s not that he doesn’t… like them, they’re just not quite what he expects. They’re so extreme, so left field that in a way, he feels as if you’re mocking him, making fun of him.

He doesn’t like that feeling.

But what he hates even more, is when you pause on giving him disgustingly sweet pet names. This, makes him feel like you no longer care, no longer wanting to take the time to come up with the gushy names that keep him in a shy state.

And you haven’t given him one in days.

He hasn’t been able to sleep. Nothing major, nightmares plaguing the dreams he thinks should be pleasant, 

“Shhh,” you soothe. “Stay asleep. I’ve got you.”

He merely nods and lets his head bury back into the pillows, your lips press against his temple before he lets his breathing even out once again.

As if your kiss soothed the monsters that dance, he’s able to sleep a few more hours, waking up disgustingly late and pouting to find your side of the bed cold.

He’s not proud of the pout okay, you’re just really good at scratching the affectionate itch that digs his brain. all he wants is his ‘pooky bear’ to cuddle their little ‘chickadee’ and let him fall back asleep in their arms.

He’s sure those names aren’t far in your arsenal of names.

When he finally does come to search you out, he’s not completely surprised to see you, stretched out on the couch and in a state of relaxation he finds envy in.

“What’re you watching?” He asks, shuffling into the living room. You smile up at him and say nothing, but instead pat your lap as an invitation for him to come and curl against you.

With a nod, he does just that, letting himself lay down on the couch with you, his head nestled in your thighs. Your fingers instantly start their magic on carding his loose hair, and his eyes slack slightly at the tingly feeling.

“Feel better?” You ask, and he hums contently. “I told you more sleep would help. You just never listen to me.”

He says nothing, merely letting his fingers gently trace the lines on your kneecap.

There’s a whirl of silence in the room, and he feels his eyes grow tired from your loving touch, the post warmth of his shower, and the cat that’s curled on his feet, keeping them warm under her rhythmic breathing.

“My handsome man,” you mumble, bending down to plant a kiss at his temple. his eyes widen as he cranes his head up to look at you, curved in surprise and a glimmer of love in his dark pools. “So pretty it hurts… my handsome, pretty man.”

That. That, he could get used to.

He smiles dopily and turns his head to nuzzle into your thigh, trying to hide the heating of his cheeks from you and your potential teasing by keeping his face buried.

But you don’t pick on him. Instead, you click your tongue adoringly and press another kiss to his temple. He feels your nose taking deep breaths of his scent, and your thumb strokes his cheek lovingly.

“Shut up”, Suguru says happily, as an acceptance, letting his sleepy eyes close and allowing your affections to swallow him whole.

Yes, he thinks to himself. It’s the fluttery feeling everyone talks about. The air filling his lungs and his head skipping beats just by the tone of which you call him handsome.

You call him your man.

Maybe pet names don’t always have to be sticky and sweet; but it just makes the most meaningful ones penetrate his heart that much more.

And this pet name, he hopes you decide to keep.

[angvl3tears]

⊹ ࣪ ˖𝐎𝐇 𝐒𝐇𝐄’𝐒 𝐃𝐎𝐋𝐋 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐄𝐃⋆.˚

she smells like strawberry and vanilla… bsf!chris x angel!reader .. sweet, pure and delicate ׂ ִ ₊ 𓈒⊹ ݁ ౨ৎ

content 𐙚 fluff, no use of ‘y/n’, chris pining

❛ angel? y’coming? ❜ chris questions. voice laced with urgency and desperation. his need to be around you showing. he fidgets with the rings on his fingers, twisting and turning. restlessly moving ‘round on the couch as he hears your commotion in the kitchen.

“m’coming!” you call out, tone sugary and sweet. like you always were.

matt notices chris’s restlessness, eyebrow raising in his direction. “chill kid, she’s been gone all of five minutes.”

chris pays no mind. just waiting for his sweet angel. he doesn’t even really care about the movie waiting to be watched on the tv. jus’ wants you. his best friend. the ache in his chest growing the longer you’re away.

you grab the bowl of popcorn, delicate hand taking hold of your hello kitty mug in the other. peach and strawberry wafting through your senses as the teabag settles. button nose scrunching up in delight.

“anyone want anything while m’ in’ere?” you wonder, asking the triplet boys. so considerate. so sweet. just as you were about to step foot out of the kitchen. fluffy sock covered foot toeing the line.

chris’s heart warms. sound of your voice so sincere. his hands settling. god, you’re just so sweet. always were, he can’t help but think. lips quirking up. jus’ can’t get enough of you.

“no, thank you!”

“all good!”

“chris?” you call out sweetly. “y’want anything?”

he smiles to himself, messing with the material of his fresh love hoodie. “no, m’okay angel. thank you.” he replies and your heart stutters. swelling and fluttering. that nickname like music to your ears.

with that, you take the step out of the kitchen and into the living room. glossy lips turning up into a sugary smile as you spot chris in the corner of the couch. a space beside him just for you. little baby flutters swirl in your tummy. giddiness washing over you.

you gently place the bowl of popcorn on the table, bending down to do so. the fresh love logo stretching on your ass, giving chris a good view of the pink sweatpants he specially designed as you do so. he coughs, ears turning pink. eyes not straying.

you spin, like the angel you are. beautiful hair bouncing. practically like a halo around you. you flash him a grin, holding your mug in both hands.

“c’mon, you jus’ gonna keep me waiting?” he tilts his head. stare meeting yours. your cheeks turn a shade darker. even as you giggle, shaking your head ‘no’ in response. chris smiles at the sound, his chest aching with something so familiar.

you take a tentative step forward, chris scooching so you have room to crawl in beside him. careful of the mug filled with hot water. you sigh as you sit down on the cushiony couch. chris’s arm falling over your shoulders so naturally. you don’t even notice the tingly feeling in your stomach.

nick presses play on the movie, everyone focused on the screen. you take small sips of your tea. you couldn’t tell whether it was the presence of chris warming you or the hot drink. either way you were engulfed with warmth. feet tucked under you. hair splayed across his hoodie covered chest. chris’s favourite sight.

he smiles in content, fingers brushing over the smooth skin of your shoulder. breathing in your sweetness. strawberry and vanilla. his favourite. everything about you was. so angelic. doll hearted. precious.

“m s’glad your here, sweet girl.” he murmurs, lips brushing the shell of your ear. you pause, mug inches away from your mouth. your cheeks warm and you gush. turning to face the boy.

the smile you give him will be embedded into his mind. so beautiful. god his heart nearly stopped right then and there. “m’glad i’m here too, chris.” doe eyes glazing over with love. cheeks full and rosy. you lean up ever so slightly and press a sticky, strawberry scented kiss on his cheek.

chris feels himself go warm and fuzzy all over. wanting to feel you do that over n over. till he’s sick of it. you give him a small smile before facing the tv once again. snuggling back into his chest. sipping on your tea happily.

matt glances over at his brother, finding him sitting there stunned, blush coating his cheeks. chris meets his stare and matt smiles shaking his head.

chris ignores him, tightening his arm around you. resting his cheek on the top of your head. you shuffle closer, if possible. embracing the warmth. so warm. so safe. in his arms. your best friend. always protecting his little sweet angel.

god he loved you.

© angvl3tears, all rights reserved. do not translate my work without my permission. please don't copy my work! smooches xoxo

[lovelyjj]

💔

Having JJ as your boyfriend was exhilarating. There was never a dull moment. You loved each other with every fiber of your being. The two of you were soulmates, destined to be together. JJ brought out the best in you. JJ wanted to be a better man for you because you deserved the world. You have been dating for a while now. It was nothing short of amazing. Not only did you love each other, you wanted a future together.

Your sex life was truly unbelievable. It was mind blowing. JJ was a expert. He knew your body like the back of his hand. He always made you feel comfortable and listened to what felt good. Having sex with JJ was magical. Two people making love and enjoying each other’s company. JJ did his best to make you happy and focused on your pleasure.

The two of were in JJ’s room at the château, lounging in JJ’s bed. JJ was tracing shapes on your thigh. You were cuddling. Both of you were enjoying the peacefulness of the evening. JJ breaks the silence by saying, “I love you so much baby, so glad I have you by my side.” “I love you too,” you replied. JJ cups your face and leans in for a kiss. Your lips crush together in a messy kiss. JJ feels so lucky to have you. He feels his heart beat faster. Your stomach does little flips and you feel tingly as you make out.

JJ’s tongue slides into your mouth. Your tongues dance together as you kiss. “Need you so bad baby,” JJ pulls back a little and whispers over your lips. You smile at his words and run a hand through his hair. “Can I take this off?” JJ asks pulling at your shirt. “Yes.”

JJ removes your shirt leaving you in your lacey black bra. Then JJ takes off his shirt revealing his toned abs. You place your hands on his stomach and run your fingers over his abs causing JJ to chuckle. JJ starts to kiss your neck sucking deep purple marks onto your skin. JJ pushed your bra straps off your shoulders and unclipped it. He kissed both of your breasts and massaged them with his hands.

You arched your back pushing your boobs into JJ’s hand and let out a soft moan. “Need to be inside you,” JJ pants. You nod your head and remove your shorts. JJ slides his pants off along with his boxers. You lay on your back as JJ hovers over you. He lines his cock at your entrance. “Ready for me baby?”

“Yes.” JJ slowly entered you with a deep groan. He gives you a minute to adjust before he moves. Then JJ pulls all the way out just to slam back in. He sets a brutal pace as he fucks you deep and raw. You squeezed around him and JJ saw stars. “You feel so good,” JJ exclaimed.

JJ easily slid in and out with how wet you were. You could tell he was getting close with the way his dick was twitching. He could tell you were getting close because your walls were spasming. “I’m gonna cum,” JJ breathed.

“Give it to me,” you begged. JJ thrusted again and again as he released deep inside you. “Oh god, baby… Yes… Tiffany… Yes…” JJ yelled as he came. He continued to move through his release drawing it out.

“Who is Tiffany?” You paused absolutely shocked and sick to your stomach.

JJ freezes, realizes his mistake. His eyes widen as he processes what he just said. “Oh god, I’m so sorry Tiffany was my ex. We broke up years ago.” He looks at you with a pained expression. “Please forgive me.”

“JJ what the fuck?!” You were furious. How could he have done this to you. You thought he loved you.

JJ pulls out and puts some sweats on. He starts pacing the room. "I don't know what came over me. It was a slip of the tongue, I swear. Tiffany and I haven't been together in so long. You mean everything to me."

“Hmm,” you speak.

He stands still, running a hand through his hair in distress. "I know I messed up badly. Calling out her name while making love to you... It's unforgivable. I'm so sorry." He looks at you imploringly. "Can you tell me what you're thinking?"

“Im thinking how can you love me when your thinking about another girl. how can this happen? i thought you loved me and only me now i’m not so sure.”

His expression turns agonized. "No, no, baby, please don't think that. I love you with all my heart. Tiffany is just a ghost from my past. I never loved her the way I love you. Please, please believe me. I'm begging you."

“I’ll have to think about it.”

He nods solemnly, his heart breaking. "I understand. I've given you reason to doubt me and that kills me. Take all the time you need to think. I'll be here, hoping and praying that you'll forgive me someday. I never meant to hurt you. You're my whole world.”

You stand up and get dressed. “I’m gonna sleep on the couch.”

He watches helplessly as you walk to the couch, his heart heavy with sorrow. "Baby, please... Don't do this. We can talk, work through this together. The couch is not the answer." He follows you, kneeling beside the couch.

“I think i just need some space.” You admit.

“Oh um okay, I’ll be just in the next room if you need me, again i’m so sorry,” JJ replied sadly. He never felt so guilty and ashamed.

JJ went to sleep that night thinking of ways he could prove to you he loved you and to win you back. He couldn’t loose you and that’s what scared him the most. He didn’t think he would survive loosing you.

part 2

[earth2steve]

eddie ramblings from my notes app: vol 2

18+, fem!reader

eddie smiles at you exactly the same way over a bowl of cereal that he does when he's between your legs and it is absolutely, positively ruining your life. 

he high fives you when he comes off stage with the same routine as he does when you both collapse side by-side on the mattress. calls you sweetheart in public with exactly the same tone as he does when you’re sticky in his lap. 

something awful flutters around in your chest when he does it now, sidling up beside you on a bench outside your work in a mess of too-long limbs and clunky jewelry. 

“what flavor?” his eyes track your mouth around a piece of bubblegum. 

you poke the piece of chewed up purple out of your mouth in lieu of an answer, and then he’s moving too fast for you to stop him. one big, ringed hand grabs you softly by the cheeks and squeezes just so, and then he’s reaching forward and fishing it from between your lips; tossing it past his own. 

you have the decency to look disgusted. eddie just grins. 

“gross, eddie.”

“gross!” he shrieks. “gross, she says.”

he leans in, kisses you so hard your head hits the window behind you. there’s a track of dried spit on your cheek when he pulls away. “i’ll give you gross.”

“you’re a sicko. we're in public." you emphasise, shoving him back and grabbing your bag from the seat beside you. "do you get off on embarrassing me, or something?”

a smile splits his sun kissed face. “mhmm. makes me all tingly inside."

“shut up,” you push your things into his arms and move for the door, thinking of ten different ways you'll get him back when you're alone. “gimme a sec and then we can go — i gotta use the bathroom.”

a searing look in his eye, the same one as when his chain dangles in your face.

“can i come?”

[verstappen-cult]

You and Charles give Max’s lip freckle a little bit of love.

You’re curled up in Max’s lap, warm blanket wrapped around your body, Charles beside him on the couch, snuggling closer to the Dutchman and tightening his hold on your hand, thumb caressing the pulse point of your wrist.

They’re watching a football game and you couldn’t care less about it. You could be doing something else, anything really, but you prefer to endure an hour of guys running behind a ball if that means spending some time with your boyfriends before they leave for the first race after the summer break.

You look up, still resting your head on his shoulder, and Max doesn’t even notice, too focused on the TV.

You love everything about Max, from his icy blue eyes to how sweet, — not only with you and Charles, but with anybody else — caring and just perfect he is. But what you love the most about him is the freckle on his upper lip.

And from the first moment you met him, you were mesmerized by it.

Slowly, very slowly, you lift your hand, touching the freckle with the pad of your finger. It’s a barely there touch, and if Max notices he doesn’t say anything, he doesn’t even move, he just keeps watching the TV.

You move your head just a little, enough to have free access to his lips, and without a second thought you lick his upper lip, just where the freckle is.

When you pull away, Max and Charles are already looking at you.

“What do you think you’re doing?” Max asks, a small smile on his lips.

Charles looks amused as he sits up, turning his whole body so he’s facing you two.

“Oh, so that’s what you’re doing.” He smirks, making you blush. Max just looks confused between you and the Monégasque.

“You have a freckle on your lip.” You say, gaze glued to that little thing that screams at you to kiss it, and lick it, and show it some love.

“I know I have it.” He laughs, but his cheeks begin to gain a soft pink tone that shows how affected he is by you giving so much attention to a freckle.

“So you know you have it,” Charles leans in, stopping just a few centimeters from his face. Max’s blue eyes widening as he waits for his next move. “You also know how hot it is, too?”

“It’s not—” He dismisses the compliment with a roll of his eyes, immediately looking down embarrassed. But you force him to keep his face up with your fingers on his chin.

“I can’t stop looking at it,” You trace his lips with your index finger as Charles, finally, reduces the distance and starts kissing his jaw. “Every time you talk,”

“Every time you lean in to kiss us.” Charles whispers in his ear as you lick his lip again, and this time Max’s whole body reacts to the attention both you and Charles are giving him.

“It’s not that—” He groans, closing his eyes. “It’s just a freckle.”

“It’s you, Max.” You cup his cheek, looking into his pretty, blue eyes. “And everything about you.”

And it’s then that you capture his lips with your own. You feel the blood rushing through your veins, a tingly feeling in your stomach, as Max reciprocates the kiss, his hand finding your waist and squeezing ever so slightly.

Charles keeps his assault on his jaw, trailing kisses down his neck, sucking and biting, leaving love bites behind. And Max can’t help the moan that escapes his lips when Charles sucks over his pulse point. He tangles his free hand in Charles hair, keeping him there until he can’t take it anymore and pulls away.

Max tries to catch his breath while looking between you and Charles, pupils dilated and chest heaving, heart thumping.

But Charles doesn’t give him time to catch up with what’s happening because he’s already kissing him with everything he has. It’s messy and aggressive, you see it and you feel it in the way Max pulls you closer to him, flush against his chest between him and Charles.

When they pull away, there’s a string of saliva still connecting their lips. Their faces are flushed and it makes you whimper, making them look at you immediately.

You and Charles spend the entire night showing Max just how much you love the freckle on his lip.

[nsharks]

bleeding blue | apocalypse au

part nineteen —other parts

pairing: Simon ��Ghost” Riley x fem!reader words: 3k tags: death. blood. cannibalism mention. zombies of course. AFAB reader. single dad ghost. there will be sex but it isn’t here yet. slow burn!!! enemies to lovers. summary: After losing your companions, you run into a skull-masked man and his daughter. They are your last hope for survival.

The cool paste feels tingly on your skin as you rub it against your bruised stomach, wincing. Christ. Maybe Ghost was right to think he might break you. Beneath the mottled patchwork, another kind of pain stirs— your muscles are growing. Firm and tight. The only soft parts of you left are your breasts and your ass. Gently applying the paste to a nasty purple one on your left cheek, you curiously pinch the sore flesh between your fingers. Scratch that. Even your ass is firming up. 

Arnica has healing properties. Yesterday, you found a patch of it with Blue and created a salve with some water. You already applied some last night before bed. Whether or not it’s helping probably doesn't mean much when new ones are about to be added; still, the placebo effect brings some comfort.

You're still massaging your backside when the bathroom door groans beneath a heavy fist. 

"Hurry up. Grab your bow."

“Shit.” You startle, almost dropping the salve. "Uh, coming.”

Chucking on a clean shirt and your old pair of jeans, you pad out of the bathroom, ignoring the cry of your joints. Ghost is outside waiting for you. Wait— bow? Confusion delivers an uptick to your pulse; you never bring your bow to train.

“What’s going on?”

"The air," he replies in a flat tone.

The stale smell offers enough explanation. You cringe. "Should we split up?"

He shakes his head and nods towards the direction the gentle breeze is rolling in. "No need. It's coming from this way."

In the violet wash of morning, you trail beside him over tall grasses and scattered groundhog burrows as the air leads the way, luring you opposite the clearing where you train. There haven't been any Greys since the one you burned together. For the past few weeks, you'd almost forgotten about their existence— a pleasant naivety for once. 

Neither of you bothers with much small talk. He asks if you're sore, probably noticing how stiff you are, and you answer honestly. That's it.

You keep your attention strictly on the wood bow molded into your palm and the slight rustling of leaves all around you, scanning for signs of anything astray. You don't look at Ghost, even when you feel his eyes flicker to the side of your head. Staring at him for even a second longer than necessary rouses something in your gut that was once easy to label as fear; now you don't know what to call it.

He is wearing thicker clothes today, the intimidating vest stocked with ammo glued to his chest. You'd gotten used to his more casual wardrobe of gym shorts and hoodies. They make him look... softer, almost. A little less like a death omen. Though, you sincerely doubt there are any soft parts of Ghost left under all that gear, given the rigid planes you felt beneath your hands when you—

"There."

You snap your gaze in the direction Ghost is pointing at.

At first, you don't see anything.

Then, squinting, you make out a red color far too metallic to naturally sprout among the conifers. 

An arrow is urgently slotted on the bowstring as the two of you head towards it, your brows tightly knitted. You've been this way a few times and never saw a— is that a red car?— before. Closing in, your suspicions are confirmed when a stroke of sunlight bounces off the metal bumper. The patchy sedan is tucked within a bush, tail-end sticking out, with half-flat tires resting on corroded rims. Shadows of movement dance behind the tinted windows, too disjointed to be natural.

"What the fuck?" you mutter under your breath, boots scuffing over a long-faded gravel pathway that is now shrouded in weeds. The car must've been following it before winding up in the bush— the occupants no longer human enough to drive.

"They... they must have just turned while they were driving," you think aloud. "When did this even get here?"

"Maybe during the night," Ghost mutters.

He paces forward and swings open the passenger door. A string of moans is released as a Grey lurches within the confinements of the seatbelt, but he quickly silences it with a bullet to the forehead, causing it to flop sideways out of the car. Maybe just a day ago, it was a young man. His hair is fully intact and he's wearing a blue shirt with the Chelsea Football Club logo on the back.

"I wonder why they were driving this way to begin with," you say quietly, stomach rolling.

In the driver's seat is the slumped-over corpse of an older man, having died from so many bite wounds before the infection could take hold. The early stages of decomposition smell almost worse than the infection and you have to breathe through your mouth as you head for the back door. 

"There's another here I think."

You're ready to shoot and put whoever it once was out of their misery when you pry open the door, but the sight of a small body wriggling around makes you freeze. Curled up against the faded leather is an infected boy, no older than eight or nine. His eyes are all white except for the outer rim where a few vessels are still filled with red blood. Your fingertips dig fiercely into the frame of the door as you stare down at him; his soft brown hair, his small hands, his Minecraft shirt. He whimpers and tries to claw at you, mouth hung open in mindless hunger.

The feeling that washes over you is hot and cold at the same time. It's not the first or last time you've seen an infected child, so you don't know why the sight traps you for a few heartbeats.

A voice emerges beside you. "It's not a kid anymore."

You almost forgot Ghost was there. Your teeth clench. "Yeah, I know."

You feel his eyes burning into you. Your fingers tighten and untighten around the arrow's stem as you aim. 

"Hone it, Twix— the anger."

The tension in your jaw releases at the same time as your arrow snaps forward, cutting through the boy's skull and driving his limp body down to the car floor.

“You good?”

You forcefully swallow and look away, giving Ghost a short nod. "Guess that's all of them."

He slowly nods in agreement, studying you, but all he says is, "For now."

“Don’t you think it’s strange?”

“Seen stranger things over the years,” he says. “It seems like they were headed somewhere, maybe needed a new place to settle, and one of them got bit. Infected the others.”

You nod, thinking it over. “What about the car?"

"No fuel left, so it's pretty useless." Rifle still in his grip, he moves around to the hood and props it open. "Might have some parts I can use, though."

While he scavenges for gears that aren't rusted beyond functionality, you take a look at their belongings. There is an empty bottle of whiskey in the cupholder. In the boy's lap is a stuffed tiger that you assume was once white, but now it's a worn of grey. You carefully shift his corpse and take it.

"I have a friend who might be able to care of this for you."

In the trunk, at least, you find some tripwire. 

Dragging the two adult bodies back to the trench for burning is your 'strength' training for the day. Since they haven't decomposed much yet, they're heavy; you go back and forth, taking one at a time. Ghost carries the small one over his shoulder. After the flames snuff out the smell of rot, he relieves you, claiming he has other shit to take care of—more traps to set with the newfound tripwire.

"Hey. Would you like this?" you ask Blue when she's up, handing her the tiger. 

"I'm kinda too old for dolls, Twix." She must see the expression on your face because she shakes her head and disappears into her room for a minute before coming out with a teddy bear. "My mom gave me this one when I was a baby and it just sits on my bed by itself, but now it can have a friend."

You smile and nod. "Yeah, okay."

The day is spent playing board games with her. When she notices how sore you are, she offers an exclusive massage from Grim, who hops over your back and legs as you relax face-down on the couch. However, even with the honorary treatment, the aching lingers. 

"Auntie, I'm over here!"

In a violet-tinted field, you search for the voice.

It's barren and hazy, with no hard edges or places for a little boy to hide; so why is it so hard to find him? You call his name. You wander around, aimless, until you catch a familiar whiff of baked cinnamon and fresh laundry. This way. He's this way. You start running fervently. When a small hand tugs at yours, you whip around and try to grab him, but the soft touch dissolves through your fingers like ash. 

When you wake up, there's a hand on your back and blood on your tongue, evidence that you'd bitten through it during your sleep. The taste is quickly replaced with bile as you launch up, grabbing the sleeve of someone's shirt.

"Oh no, you don't."

The hand moves to your hair, wrapping it around in a fistful before forcing your head to tilt down. A bucket is tucked beneath your chin. You vomit into it, the cool metal rim hissing against your fingertips. Again and again. When it's all out, your throat feels like sandpaper. 

"Done?"

The dark room surrounds you; the perfect place to hide what you know must be a ghastly look on your face. Awareness creeps in, and you're not thrilled by the fact that you've thrown up in front of him twice now. Without looking up at the white skull you know is there, you nod.

Wordlessly, he takes out a cigarette and lighter. You hear a deep inhale. See the dull glow of the flame. Then, he passes it to you and leaves.

"You look like shit today."

You can't even be offended, fully aware of the purple painted beneath your eyes. One look at you quirks his brow up in that annoying mannerism of his.

You offer a tight-lipped simper, mumbling. "At least I can always count on you for brutal honesty."

"Good trait to look for in an ally." He throws the gauze at you and you begin wrapping up. "I don't suppose it has anything to do with the fact you nearly ruined another shirt of mine last night."

You tie off the gauze and glance up. "Look, I'm s—" you stop yourself, "I mean, I'm not sorry, because you wanted my box open so now it's open. You already knew the potential consequences."

"Try opening it without emptying your stomach next time."

You flash him a look. "I think I miss when you pretended I didn't exist."

"And I miss getting a full night of sleep."

"Can we just get started? I'm ready."

Ghost keeps his eyes on you as he motions a fisted hand. "As you wish."

When the familiar dance begins, and adrenaline ripples up your spine, you realize that you missed this yesterday. The rest felt good, but this— the thrill of seeing Ghost start to get as worked up as you, the sweat stains on his shirt matching your own... it is something you itch for these days. 

You get a few hits in that have your ego swelling. But then— the rough night catches up with you after half an hour of wordless sparring. Your breathing grows labored, while his is barely winded.

"Tired yet?" he asks.

"No," you say, but he calls you out immediately.

"You're a terrible liar," he reminds you. A few more swings have your lungs burning as you dodge until one finally catches up with you, and whatever healing your homemade salve has done is erased by a fresh layer of pain. 

As you clutch your side, he changes the subject. "Are you going to tell me what it was about then?"

"What what was about?"

"Whatever was making you whimper in your sleep."

Your face twists. "I wasn't 'whimpering'."

"Fine, then. Crying," he corrects plainly.

You sigh through your nose, averting your gaze only for a moment, then focusing back on him before he can strike you again. His words hang in the air, ignored, as you jab an elbow toward his ribs. He grabs you by the knob of it and pulls you unnecessarily close to his chest. When you try to wriggle free by placing a hand on his chest, he fists your hair, which has slipped out of a bun into a haphazard ponytail, and tugs hard enough to force your eyes up to his.

His gaze is demanding but his voice is light— a mere breath over your forehead. "Tell me why someone who has seen plenty of infected kids by now seemed so bothered by the one she saw yesterday. He reminded you of someone, didn't he?"

The mention of it makes you snap. "Stop."

"Stop what?"

"Trying to act like you know anything about me."

"I know enough. You are easy to read."

So that feeling you get when he looks at you isn't just in your head; he truly can see through. Your nails dig into your palm. "There's no need to read me. We're not friends. We're just... allies, or whatever."

"Or whatever," he repeats thoughtfully, tasting the words. "You talk like a teenager."

"Compared to you I might as well be," you retort.

"Jesus." He chuffs out an exhale, eyes flickering down for a moment before returning up to yours, narrowing. "Let's not change the subject here." 

"Fine. Take this stupid Halloween mask off," you lift the hand on his chest up to the hem of his balaclava, feeling how weighted the fabric is with sweat. "And I will tell you all about it."

His jaw flexes before he gently guides your hand away. "Tempting offer, but I'll pass."

You refuse to acknowledge the tinge of embarrassment at his dismissal and inch back as far as the hand on your hair will allow. The close proximity, or harsh sun, is making it hard to breathe. "Well, it's not fair for you to ask me shit about my life when you don't even let me see your face."

"I never claimed to be fair." 

"I promise I won't vomit no matter how ugly you are. I've seen worse things out here."

His hand tightens. "I think I miss when you were scared of me. Less mouthy back then."

"Well, I'm not anymore."

"No?" He flips you around so your back is against him, one hand settling on the toned curve of your hip. His voice lowers to your ear. "Maybe I need to fix that."

An unwelcomed shiver courses through you. He lets go. A wristbone nudges against your spine, shoving you forward. Irritation simmers in your veins when his remark finally registers, and you whirl around, readying your stance. 

"If you even think about threatening me after I explicitly asked you not to, then I would suggest sleeping with a knife tonight."

"Who's threatening who, Twix?" He gives a low chuckle. "Relax. I'm sure I could handle you in my sleep, anyway."

He's egging you on; you know it. And yet, you stubbornly take the bait. His knee— the right one. That's where you got him last time that made him falter. Maybe an old injury. But when you swing a boot at it, he expects your attempt, knocking you away by the ankle. 

"Ah. Eager to get me beneath you again?"

Pink sears your cheeks as you wipe a trickle of sweat from your forehead. "I'm eager to humble you for once."

"Might need to keep your dinner down to do that."

You grit your teeth. So maybe he did allow it last time. The realization darts your eyes to his wide stance, searching for an idea. Without second-guessing yourself, you kick at the other knee. He must find your second attempt amusing because he easily predicts it, but before he can catch your leg, you snap it back and drop yourself to the ground.

The brief distraction allows the second of time needed to fit yourself between his legs. You're slim enough to push through, kicking at the inside of both knees once you're on the other side. His legs buckle, and you reach up to pull his arm, finishing the job.

Once he's down, you scramble to get on top, not caring if your boot kicks his face in the process. You grab both of his wrists and bring them above his head, but it's impossible to wrap your fingers all the way around them. Instead, you lace them through his fingers, breathing hard in his face as your breasts meld against the solid heat of him.

"Did you allow that?" 

His voice is rougher than you've ever heard it. "No."

Your lips furl. "Good."

A dark gleam passes through his dilated pupils that makes your head fuzzy. You let go of his hands. Immediately, they gravitate to your hips again, thumbs fiercely pressing into the sliver of skin exposed from where your shirt rides up. You don't move even an inch, frozen in place as you stare down at where he grips you against him. That feeling in your gut deepens and spreads. It is hard to pinpoint—so insane and foreign yet familiar at the same time—but one thing is certain: it begins and ends where his rough skin touches yours.

Before you can figure anything else out, a scream shatters the air, and Ghost rips you off of him in one swift movement. 

[prettymfwrites]

Honey pack Prank 🍯

Paige bueckers x female reader

Summary: It had started as a normal day, with Paige dragging you out to help with errands you didn’t want to do. What you didn’t know was that Paige had been plotting her revenge ever since your last prank on her—and today, she had the perfect plan.

‧͙⁺˚*･༓🍯　 🍯༓･*˚⁺‧͙

The car ride had been chill so far, and you left Paige in the car while you popped into the convenience store to grab a few things. What you didn’t know was that while you were inside, Paige was carefully stirring a honey pack into your iced coffee, grinning as she adjusted the camera she had set up on the dash.

“Y’all,” she whispered, glancing at the door to make sure you weren’t coming back yet. “She has no idea. None. And it’s already killing me not to touch her, but I’m about to make this so hard for her.” She giggled, sliding the coffee back into the cup holder as she saw you exit the store.

You opened the car door with an annoyed huff. “They were out of my favorite snacks. This day is already off to a bad start.”

Paige glanced at the camera for a split second before smiling at you. “Aw, poor baby. You got your coffee, though, right?”

“Yeah,” you muttered, taking a sip. You let out a content hum. “Okay, this is good, though. Maybe this’ll save my mood.”

Paige grinned, biting back a laugh as she pulled out of the parking lot. “Good. We’ve got a few more stops to make, mama. Hang in there with me.”

At first, everything was fine. You sipped your coffee, Paige teased you about your music choices, and it was all perfectly normal. But about twenty minutes later, you started feeling... off.

You shifted in your seat, tugging at the neckline of your shirt. “Is it just me, or is it kind of warm in here?”

Paige glanced at you briefly, feigning confusion. “Warm? Baby, it’s literally January. You good?”

“I don’t know,” you said, frowning. “I feel weird. Like... tingly or something. And warm. Definitely warm.”

“Hmm,” Paige said, her tone too casual. “Maybe you’re coming down with something?”

You sighed, shaking your head. “No, I don’t think so. I just... I don’t know. Can I have a kiss?”

Paige tightened her grip on the steering wheel, smirking to herself. “Mama, I’m driving.”

“So?” you said, leaning closer to her. “Just one. Come on, Paige.”

Paige chuckled, shaking her head. “Not while I’m driving, baby. You’re gonna have to wait.”

You huffed, crossing your arms. “Fine. But you owe me when we get home.”

“Oh, I know,” Paige said smoothly, her lips twitching.

Paige led you into the next store, where your restlessness only grew. You fanned yourself with your hand, tugging at your clothes every few seconds. “Seriously, why is it so hot in here?”

“It’s not hot,” Paige said, grabbing a shopping basket and shooting a glance at the camera she had discreetly placed in the cart. “You feeling okay, pretty?”

“No! I feel like I’m burning up, and I don’t even know why. And you’re just... standing there being you,” you snapped, gesturing at her.

“Being me?” Paige repeated, biting back a laugh. “What does that mean, baby?”

“You know what it means! You’re just walking around here being all fine, and it’s not helping!”

Paige stopped in her tracks, smirking. “So you think I’m fine?”

“Oh, don’t even start,” you muttered, covering your face with your hands. “Can we just get out of here already?”

“We still have a couple more things to grab,” Paige said, her voice teasing. “Patience, baby.”

You groaned, trailing after her like a lovesick puppy. Every time she stopped to grab something, you leaned against her, clutching her arm or resting your head on her shoulder.

“Can you hold my hand?” you asked, pouting up at her.

Paige laced her fingers through yours with a soft smile. “Better?”

“No,” you said, your voice muffled as you pressed your face into her arm. “I need more than this, Paige. I don’t know what’s wrong with me, but I feel so... ugh!”

Paige leaned down, her voice low and teasing. “Tell me what you need, mama.”

You pulled back, glaring at her. “You know what I need!”

Paige bit her lip as you walked away from her noticeably frustrated, glancing at the camera with an amused glint in her eyes. “Y’all, she’s making this so hard to do.”

By the time you made it back to the car, you were practically vibrating with frustration. “I don’t even care about the errands anymore. Can we please go home?”

Paige chuckled, patting your knee. “Alright, alright. Let’s get you home, pretty.”

When you finally got inside, you wasted no time stripping off your jacket and tugging at your shirt. “I’m burning up, Paige. I don’t know what’s happening, but I—”

You reached for the hem of your shirt, ready to pull it off, when Paige darted forward, grabbing your hands.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa!” Paige said quickly, her voice a mix of laughter and panic. She moved to turn off the camera she’d set on the counter.

“What?” you asked, confused and flustered.

Paige grinned, holding up the empty honey pack. “It was a prank, mama. Payback for last time.”

Your jaw dropped. “Paige! Are you kidding me?”

“Nope,” Paige said, laughing. “You messed with me first, baby. This is just karma.”

“You are so lucky I love you,” you muttered, glaring at her.

Paige leaned in, brushing her lips against yours. “I know, mama. And for the record? You’re the cutest thing I’ve ever seen, even when you’re mad.”

You couldn’t help the small smile tugging at your lips. “You’re still in trouble.”

Paige smirked, pulling you closer. “Worth it.”

🍯🍯🍯🍯🍯🍯🍯🍯🍯🍯🍯🍯🍯🍯🍯🍯🍯🍯

I take requests babes! 💕