#mas classy

[zahra-rose]

Love letter to my exes.

“How can I forget about you when there’s trash in every street?”

[heartbpm]

creo q. a azuma le debe gustar ayesha <- nomas quiere poder decir eso de un pj

[ariestrxsh]

*˖ ݁𖥔.𓀏·:*¨༺ .♱.✮.♱. ༻¨*:·𓀏.𖥔 ݁ ˖*

⚠️ content warning: ⚠️ smut, utter filth, praise, oral, light edging, unprotected sex, voyeurism, exhibitionism, cuckhold!matt, possessive!matt

✍️ Summary: ✍️ Matt and Chris make a bet, and Matt loses, but the stakes are high. Matt bet you, his girlfriend.

*˖ ݁𖥔.𓀏·:*¨༺ .♱.✮.♱. ༻¨*:·𓀏.𖥔 ݁ ˖*

she thinks of me part one

"Hey babe, please don't be mad," my boyfriend Matt said, biting his nails and avoiding eye contact with me. "I could never be mad. What's wrong?" I asked him, cupping his face and stroking it. I could tell something was seriously bothering him. "I made a bet with Chris. And I lost," Matt started.

"Okay? What kind of bet? Do you have to give him a lot of money or something?" I asked with concern in my voice. "Listen, I know I'm stupid. I shouldn't have put this on the table for a bet I wasn't sure I'd win," Matt continued, "I bet you. I lost a bet with Chris, and all he wanted if he won the bet was a chance to fuck you." My jaw dropped. "Listen, you can obviously say no, but yeah, then I will have to owe him a bunch of money instead," Matt shot me an innocent smile.

Is it bad that I was a little turned on by this? Of course, with Matt having two brothers who looked almost exactly like him, I couldn't deny that I was attracted to all of them, but I was afraid to let Matt know I did want to fuck Chris, and I was excited about him losing this particular bet.

"Don't worry, Matt. I patted him on the back. "I'll take one for the team. You won't have to owe him any money," I sighed, making him think I was doing him a favor as if I didn't have my own ulterior motives in mind. Plus, that would teach Matt to bet my body to anybody ever the fuck again.

Hours later, Chris stood over me on my bed. I was in a black classy lingerie set like he had requested. Matt was in the room, too. As much as he wanted to be blissfully unaware of what was going to go on between Chris and me in this room, Chris insisted that Matt watch.

The fact that Chris won a bet with his brother and what he wanted in return was to fuck me in front of my boyfriend was probably the hottest shit ever.

"Fuck, you look so amazing in that, ma," Chris said, adjusting the strap on my bra while he bit his lip. "Thank you, Chris," I batted my eyelashes at him. "You can take it off if you'd like," I whispered, giving him the eyes.

Matt scoffed at the way I was flirting with his brother in front of him, but part of the bet was that he wasn't allowed to stop us from doing anything together.

"Don't mind if I do," Chris softly responded, unhooking my bra. As it fell to the floor, he took one of my breasts into his palm and brushed his fingertips up against my nipple. I stifled a moan. With his left hand, he cradled my face, and with his right, he moved from my chest to my waist. He traced my curves, sending goosebumps across my skin. He licked his lips at me and slid his hand down the front of my black panties.

"Fuck, you're so wet," Chris gasped while he explored my sex, and I smiled innocently up at him. "You all wet for me, ma?" Chris inquired while he moved his fingertips in small circles. As I nodded, I saw Matt out of the corner of my eye clenching his jaw.

"Let's get these off of you, huh?" Chris cooed while he lifted up my hips to help take my panties off, and he shoved them into his back pocket. "Hey, what the fuck, Chris? That's not part of the plan. I said you could fuck her, not keep her panties," Matt got up into Chris' face. "Hey, chill. This is how I fuck, okay?" Chris responded. "Don't worry, baby. I'll buy you new ones," Matt said, putting his hands up in a defensive position and letting Chris get back to it.

I didn't want either of them to know, but I loved that Chris wanted to keep my panties. I wondered if he would look back on this encounter on lonely nights with my thong in one hand and his cock in the other. If I weren't already soaked, the thought of that alone would be enough to get me there.

Chris parted my legs with his hands and got up close and personal with my ladybits. "Wow, look at that gorgeous pussy," Chris said, admiring me. "If you think it looks nice, you should taste it," I whispered, devilishly grinning up at him, and I could feel Matt's eyes on me burning a hole through the side of my head. "I'd fucking love to," Chris looked up at me in disbelief, sounding surprised at how forward I was being and did as I suggested.

His tongue brushed against my sensitive cunt, feathering over my folds, and I smiled down at him as I whimpered, "Oh, Chris." I knew this would make Matt jealous, and it turned me on to think about him getting mad about his brother's mouth making me feel good enough to moan his name.

I played into it some more, gripping Chris' hair and rolling my hips forward so he could have better access to my clit. He responded by applying more pressure with his tongue and gently sucking on my most sensitive spot.

I glanced over at Matt through my hazy vision, and he looked pissed. He was gripping his chair, the veins in his hands and arms popping, and he looked like he wanted to kill us both.

"He's doing such a good job, Matt," I said in a breathy voice, smiling over at my boyfriend. Matt shook his head and shot me a look, but there was a part of me that swore Matt might have been enjoying it, just a little. His facial expression was one of anger and lust.

"Matt, you lucky bastard. I can't believe you get to eat this pussy every night," Chris growled, smirking up at Matt, who rolled his eyes in response to this. Chris gripped both my thighs, spreading them apart further and started moving his tongue back and forth with incredible speed. I felt myself on the brink of climax, but he abruptly stopped.

"Not yet, princess. I'm gonna take my time with you," Chris teased me. Matt shot his brother a look of contempt. Being called princess always turned me on so much, and Matt knew that. "'Keep calling me princess. I like that." I watched again as Matt shifted around uncomfortably in his seat. It was killing him not to be able to intervene at all. "Princess, you taste so fucking good," Chris whispered to me. He tenderly toyed my clit with his tongue for a little bit longer, and when I got close again, he stopped. I sighed and looked down at him, "you're such a tease."

He unzipped his pants and took them off, along with his boxers. Matt watched as Chris sunk his cock into my hole. I let out a small whimper as he slid it all the way in. "God, I've been dreaming about this forever," Chris whispered while he started rocking his hips back and forth. "Me too," I bit my lip to hold back a few whimpers. Chris smiled, but I could feel Matt glaring at me out of my peripheral vision.

I'd never told Matt I wanted to have sex with Chris, but I had fantasized about it before, and I figured I'd teach Matt a lesson about betting me, especially when he couldn't have anticipated how much I'd love fucking Chris.

"Oh, Chris!" I moaned louder this time while he thrust himself into me mercilessly. "Come on, princess. Let's give Matt a better look, shall we? Lay on your side," Chris cooed while we shifted positions. I turned over onto my left side, facing Matt, and Chris laid down behind me, spooning me and shoving his dick back into my cunt. He gripped my right thigh with his hand and held it up for better access. Chris leaned forward and whispered into my ear, "good fucking girl," while he continued to pound me. The angle was perfect. With every stroke, Chris was slamming into my cervix, and I felt myself relinquishing control to him.

Matt's previously stern demeanor was softening, and I could tell he was still jealous and possessive, but he was biting his lip and watching hungrily as Chris railed me. I loved how fast and hard Chris fucked. It was animalistic and hedonistic, but there was still a lot of sensuality and passion there too. My body moved in tandem with Chris' as he nailed me senseless.

"You take this cock so fucking good. Your pussy is all mine, princess," Chris whispered while he looked into Matt's eyes. Matt clenched his jaw once more, but I could see how hard he was through his pants, which made me enjoy sex with Chris even more. I loved that Matt was secretly getting off on it.

"Whose pussy is this?" Chris gruffly asked, reaching down to play with my clit. "Yours," I whimpered. "Say it again, princess. Tell me your pussy is all mine while you look at Matt," Chris told me. Fuck, he knew just how to push Matt's buttons. "My pussy is all yours, Chris," I cried out while I looked Matt in the eyes. Matt looked incredibly unamused.

I'd only seen Matt look this pissed once before in my life, and it was when some strange man slapped my ass in a bar once while Matt was standing right next to me, and he almost ended up fighting the dude. It was also how I figured out how much I got turned on by Matt being pissed off. He couldn't refrain. "Fuck you, Chris," Matt barked at his brother.

Chris ignored him and continued to fuck me until I was creaming all over his cock. My whole body trembled, and my climax cascaded over me like an orgasmic waterfall, and I moaned Chris' name nearly the whole time.

Shortly after, Chris pulled out of me and finished into his hand, while his eyes rolled back into his head. Profanities flowed from his mouth while his cum pooled into his palm. "Holy fuck, that was amazing," Chris uttered breathlessly.

"Okay, you had your fun. Now, get out, jackass," Matt said launching a towel in Chris' direction for him to clean up with. Chris laughed and made some snide remark, but Matt was not having it. "I'm serious. Get the fuck out before I kick your ass," Matt snarled.

Chris threw on his underwear and backed out of the room, saying, "Chill. Chill. It was a one-time thing." "Damn right it was," Matt said, slamming the door to my bedroom in Chris' face.

"Get on your fucking hands and knees. You're in so much fucking trouble. Your pussy belongs to Chris, huh? I think you forgot who really owns this pussy," Matt sternly told me while he unzipped his pants.

part two here 💖

taglist: @ariithereyet @bsturnzmtt @sofieeeeex @ribread03 @fratbrochrisgf @strnlxlqve @sturnzluv @sturniolo-girl (let me know if you'd like me to add or remove you from my taglist at any time)

[halfrican-heat]

ALL MINE (Ony)

"You come here, I'll knock your pussy out the damn frame. Remember the last time I made you miss your damn plane? Remember the last time I wet you down with champagne?"

A/N: Hey! I'm down bad for this man rn, lol. I've got lots of ideas for him though, so yay! Happy reading :) Inspired by @lingeriae and this post! Requests are open, too! Get at your girl.

Warning(s): Explicit Sexual Content; Penetrative Sex (p in v), Oral Sex (F receiving), Cursing, Public Sex (Outdoors), Cervix kissing, Wedding details, N Word Used, Black reader in mind, AAVE/Dialogue with Dialect, Dominant!Ony (when tf is he not in my mind), Depiction of marijuana usage, Depictions of alcohol consumption, Mild Dubious Consent; Beta'd by my besties <3

Pairing: Ony x Wedding Planner!Reader

Song Inspo: All Mine - Brent Faiyaz

His eyes drilled into the side of your head, trailing the curves of your body.

As maid of honor, your dress was a little different from the other bridesmaids. Make no mistake, your girls looked good with a t on the end. You made sure of that, but you all agreed upon something more…tailored for the lady making the most moves. So, your dress was designed to your tastes and fit you like a glove. It accentuated all your assets and Onyankopon was taking stock. 

The two of you had only fucked once but there was this heightened tension ever since.

During the entire wedding process, Ony had been a pain in your ass. Because he was the best man, the two of you had to collaborate on many of the joint events-- like the Engagement Party and Bridal Party mixers. He was a terrible flirt and spent most of his time trying to get in your pants. Then, if it wasn’t you, he was flirting with any lady he could. And they would swoon just as soon as Ony flashed that handsome, megawatt smile of his. 

But for some reason, Ony liked the challenge you posed. The way you were resistant to his charms. Unfortunately for you, Ony was interested in you. He liked you.

You dealt with his bullshit for a good while, putting in a valiant effort because you were doing your best friend and fellow soror, Kendra, a favor. Y’all went back to diapers and stuck together through everything. You were a celebrity event coordinator, specializing in weddings, so you were doing double duty by being her maid of honor and planning the entire wedding. But shit hit the fan between you and Ony the night of the final Bridal Party mixer. The two of you got into a huge blowout fight that ended with your cute little cocktail dress torn and strewn about the floor of Ony’s hotel room, his tongue licking champagne from places it shouldn’t have been. 

“You doing so good, ma.” He had whispered, fucking you into his sheets. 

You ended up missing your damn plane the next morning. Needless to say, he moved up on your list of people you wouldn’t mind spending time with. But he quickly moved back down the list after he ghosted you the next day. During the rehearsal dinner, you found him talking up some girl in the hotel lounge. He made eye contact with you as he flirted with her, looking away to give her his full attention. 

So, you kept it cordial and cute after that. You acted like it didn’t bother you. Did he have amazing, life-changing dick that made you want to murder him and the bitch from the hotel lounge? Yes, yes he did. But were you a classy, sophisticated bitch who successfully planned a destination wedding while being the maid of honor and dealing with Ony’s shiesty ass? Yes, yes the fuck you were. 

And no nigga was gonna make you second guess that shit. 

The “Lounge Incident”, as your friends lovingly dubbed it, had happened a week ago. Fast forward to the present and there you were, watching your best friend dance and act a fool with the love of her life. You were happy for her, of course, but it did make you feel a little wistful.

The wedding ceremony wrapped up two hours prior and you found yourself nursing a glass of champagne at the reception. You were pretending to be unfazed by the looks Ony was sending you from across the room. You stole a glance at him when you felt like he wasn’t watching you and…dear Lord. 

His white dress shirt was tucked into his green slacks, suit jacket long forgotten, with a few of the top buttons opened. His gold chain shined at you, almost winking, as it matched the gold Rollie on his wrist. He flashed a smile to one of his homeboys and you felt your knees wobble a little. You looked away quickly and crossed the room to find your girls. They were standing around one of the reception tables talking.

“Aht, don’t bring that energy over here, ma’am!” Your friend, Chelsea, said. “That man look like he ‘bout to jump your ass.”

“Please tell me y’all not about to fuck at this wedding,” Liyah groaned.

Your girls laughed loudly and you hid a smile behind your champagne glass as you took a sip. You risked a glance back at Ony, finding his gaze already on you. He didn’t care to hide the fact he was staring at you, not even giving the young lady in front of him a glance as she spoke to him. You whipped around, clearing your throat. 

“Bye, girl. It ain’t even like that.”

The table went quiet, all the girls looking over your shoulder. A shit-eating grin spread across Chelsea’s face as she raised her hand, waving playfully. 

“Hey, Ony.”

Your eyes widened as his chest pressed against your back, his warmth surrounding you. You tried to pretend to be unbothered as your friends gawked with wide eyes and smirks. 

“Hey, ladies.”

The smile was evident in his voice, sending chills down your spine. But you took a sip of your champagne with a neutral face, not acknowledging him. In truth, you didn’t need to. He leaned down so that his mouth was close to your ear, hands braced on the table as he trapped you against his chest. His chain brushed your neck, not helping the goosebumps erupting all over your skin. His words, low so only you could hear them, didn’t help either. 

“Say bye to your lil friends so I can eat your pussy.”

He paused as you turned your head slightly, your faces close to touching. 

“And stop playing with me.”

His eyebrow arched at you as he pulled back, taking a sip from his whiskey glass. He addressed your friends again, setting the glass down. 

“Ladies,” He said with a charming smile. 

With that, he left you standing there as you slowly looked back to your friends who gaped back at you. 

“Bye.” You said finally, scurrying from the reception hall as fast as your legs would carry you.

You found Ony outside the building, perched against the wall. A blunt hung from his lips as he gazed at you sidelong. You approached slowly, hips swaying with each step. His eyes never left yours as he sparked up and inhaled, exhaling the smoke slowly. You felt dizzy with need but you weren’t down that bad. Not yet. 

You took the blunt as he passed it to you. You let the smoke soothe you before you exhaled. You took a few more pulls before passing it back to him. 

“Take your panties off,” He said finally, after a long draw. 

You tutted, crossing your arms. 

“You just gon’ act like you ain’t ghost me, Ony?”

“I was wrong for that. But I'm here now, ain't it?” He said casually. 

You rolled your eyes, turning to go back inside. He grabbed your arm and pulled you back to him, his lips pressing firmly against yours. His mouth teased yours, opening it as smoke billowed between the two of you. His arm slid down to your waist as you exhaled the smoke he gave you. 

He took another pull, exhaling, before he looked back down at you. 

“I told you stop playing with me.”

“Maybe I'm done with you," You bluffed. "Maybe I got me another nigga to fuck on now.”

Ony scoffed, tucking the rest of his blunt away for later.

“Aight, that’s enough of that shit,” He mumbled, grabbing your hand as he pulled you to the side of the building. 

It was a more hidden spot, behind large bushes that wrapped around the front of the building and off to the side. From there, you could see guests entering and exiting but they couldn’t see you unless they were looking hard enough. Your eyes widened as he kneeled in front of you and shoved your dress up your legs. You swatted at his hands, panicking as your eyes darted around. Ony stilled, his gaze hard as he grabbed your hands and looked up at you.

“Don’t piss me off.”

Now, you were down bad. 

You took a shaky breath as he released your hands, going back to bunching up your dress. 

“Hold that,” He said, tossing your leg over his shoulder. 

You did as he asked, taking the garment in your hands. Your body flushed with heat as he shamelessly nuzzled his nose against your soaked core, smelling your needy scent. He kissed your clothed core and pushed your panties aside, holding them in one hand as he slipped a finger into your dripping cunt. He moved the digit in and out, brushing against that soft spot inside you. 

“Oh, fuck,” You whined, your head falling against the wall. 

“Yeah, say that shit you was sayin’ now,” Ony taunted, sliding another digit inside. “This pussy all mine.”

You panted, bracing yourself with a hand on his shoulder, as you forced out your next question.

“What about that bitch from the lounge, Ony?”

“I was gonna try what she was offering, but she wasn’t you,” He said easily, his eyes glued to his fingers moving in and out of you. “Damn, ma. You sucking that shit in.”

“Ony,” You whimpered. “I don’t want to play no games with you--”

“I’m not. That shit not an offer to me when you’re around,” He said firmly. “Now, you gon’ keep complainin’ or you gonna let daddy eat his pussy?”

“Ony--”

Any rebuttal you had became a wanton moan as he didn’t wait for a response, his mouth descending on your clit as his fingers continued to move inside you. You covered your mouth with your hand, trying in vain to stifle the sounds of pleasure he was snatching from you. He pulled his fingers from you gently, spreading your sopping pussy wider as he fucked his tongue in and out of you. 

He ate you out messily, drinking up your juices like sweet nectar. The slurping noises were lewd as he sucked on your clit, teasing it with his tongue before dipping it back into your weeping hole. His performance was drawing pathetic whines from your throat as you tried to keep the two of you from getting caught. Heat pooled in your belly as his mouth on your core drove you toward a heated finish. 

Then, he stopped completely. You let out a confused moan as the pleasure waned, your orgasm evading you. The confusion didn’t last long, however, as you heard his belt coming undone. He pulled himself from his pants as he tore your panties. He hiked your leg around his waist and slid home without warning.

“Hold on to me,” He grunted, his other hand supporting your back.

You wrapped your arms around him, your head resting on his shoulder as he thrust into you. His pace was rough and deep, fucking you like he owned you. Maybe he did. Maybe you wanted him to. You muffled a scream into his shoulder as his length kissed your cervix, unrelenting as the drag of his cock against your tight walls sent you into oblivion.

“Fuck, baby,” He groaned. “You so tight f’me. Takin’ me so good.”

You choked back a sob as his tip brushed that soft spongy spot, bringing back the pool of pleasure from before. Ony noticed your reaction, angling his hips to hit it over and over again. Your whimpers and moans were his own private mixtape as you keened and cried in his ear. He stretched you so good, the feeling of being this full something new and foreign to you. Ony was a bad habit, and he was making sure you wouldn’t be able to kick him any time soon.

That pool of pleasure warmed further with each snap of his hips into yours. Your quiet, open-mouthed cries built in intensity as the temperature inside you began to rise, swirling like a tsunami. You felt yourself teetering on that delicate edge and so could Ony. He picked up the pace. 

“You gonna cum on your dick?” He taunted, egging you on. “You gon’ show me who this dick belong to?”

Your climax crashed over you as you slapped a hand to your mouth, muffling the sob that broke free. He fucked you through your orgasm, prolonging it as your body seized around him. He could barely pull out, opting for shallow thrusts as you came down from your high.

You sagged against the wall, trying to catch your breath as Ony pulled out. He fixed your dress and smoothed it down around the hips. He tucked himself back into his pants and dug his wallet from his pocket, fishing out his room key. 

He flashed it in front of your dazed face before placing it in your hand. He pulled you off the wall, making sure you looked good before nudging you in the direction of the front doors. 

“Go to my room. Third floor, 303. I’ll be there in a minute.”

You looked down at the key card in your hand then back to him. He sparked up his blunt again, blowing out smoke as he smacked your ass. 

“Go ‘head, ma. I’m coming.”

You jumped slightly from the impact and found your feet moving you out of the bushes. You stumbled back into the hotel lobby, walking on wobbly legs to the elevators with his room key clutched in your hand. Your girl, Chelsea, was coming from the restrooms as the two of you made eye-contact. She smirked, her eyes trailing over you. She subtly adjusted the top of her dress, nodding at you.

You took the hint, fixing yours. 

She went back into the reception hall without a word as you fumbled to press the elevator button. 

Your night was not over yet.

[dilfl0v3rss]

all yours

when it came to your safety, onyankopon played zero games. if he felt even the slightest bit of worry he had no problem getting you from wherever you may be. there have been times where you’ve been walked out of parties, stores, and even something as little as a smoke sesh with your girls. if ony felt you were unsafe you were going home no questions asked, and you honestly didn’t have an issue with it. feeling a sense of pride in having a man that cares so deeply for you. that was until tonight…

the two of you were at your friend ivy’s place for her big housewarming party when you were getting weird stares from a couple hating ass bitches. ivy didn’t want her party to be small so she told each person she invited to tell some friends to come as well. which led to this weird ass bitch brielle hearing about the party and deciding to curse everyone with her presence. brielle was an old fling of ony’s that he been cut off like a year ago, but she’s so thick in the head that she still runs her mouth about him to this very day. you, being the classy woman you are, have been ignoring the bitch because it honestly was sad of her to be acting like this, but today she reached her limit.

when you and ony first arrived everything was great. “heyy bitchhhh. so glad y’all could make ittt.” ivy screamed as she welcomed you and ony into her new home. ony greeted her with a small “wassup, thank you for havin’ us” before letting you have the floor, walking towards jean and connie to talk. “hey boooo. this place is niceeee you gotta let me spend the night sooon” the two of you talked for awhile before she let you go to get a drink from the kitchen. as you filled your red solo cup halfway with casamigos you noticed some girls approaching where your boyfriend and his friends were. before being able to move, you were stopped by sasha, mikasa and.

sasha was the first to talk. “you peep that shit right?” she said, nodding her head towards the girls. you knew if one of your friends was going to say something about what was going on it would be sasha. mikasa was on the quieter side, but best believe when it came to you she didn’t play either. “yea i see em. that bird ass bitch and her lil flock of pigeons tryna play games” the three of you watched as brielle and her little sidekicks were all up in you boyfriend’s faces. brielle being the main one, lightly hitting ony’s chest while she laughed. her red bussdown was flowing behind her as she pushed it over her shoulder, purposely trying to bounce her tiddies as she “fixed” her hair.

being the levelheaded woman you are, you decided against approaching them. knowing that you’d probably knock the bitches head off her shoulders if you went anywhere near her right now. so you pulled out your phone and sent ony a quick and simple text. ony looked at his phone almost immediately, knowing it was you who texted him since he had it on dnd for everyone else.

my wife💐

‘tell that bitch move around or ima drag her outta here omm😐’

as soon as he read the text, ony lifted his head and began searching for you. soon he locked eyes with yours, excusing himself from whatever conversation was going on and making his way to the kitchen. “what’s wrong now?” is this nigga dumb? did he not just see and feel that bitch being weird touching on him? “nun bruh just tell that hoe to keep her distance. that hair look new and i’d hate to have that shit on the floor” as the two of you conversed you couldn’t help but peep ivy and her friends start to mug you and your girls. eventually making their way towards you. before you can even point it out your thoughts were cut off by sasha. “yea i’m finna flip dis hoe. got me all the way fucked up.”

ony watched your friends start to remove their earrings and adjust their clothes, and being the nonconfrontational man that he was he decided it was time for you to go. “go tell ivy we leavin’ and wait f’me in the car ma. i’ll get you a slice of ca-” “nah i’m good right here.” you cut him off, eager to see what this bitch was on. as they approached y’all you see that sasha and mikasa were quick to be at your side, standing face to face with each of brielle’s friends. “you got a problem wit me shawty?” brielle smirked, looking you up and down and taking pride in pissing you off. but your mouth was smart and even though it got you in trouble with your man, there was nothing you couldn’t handle when it came to other people.

“nah but you seem to have a problem that i got the nigga you want” you spit back with a smile. you could see that your comment got under her skin. she was rolling her eyes as she replied. “nah ion got a problem when i know i can have em right back anytime. like last saturday for instance.” this bitch is a liar and you knew it. laughing at loud as both her and your friends looked at you confused. last saturday ony was home the entire day, and you can only remember it so vividly because he had you face down in the mattress for cursing him out over being late to brunch. you also remembered it so vividly because he recorded most of it on your phone. “tuhh bitch please pick a different lie because you know damn well he was with me. now are we gon sit here and chit chat or you tryna take this outside cause ian really with allat talkin’. ”

before the bird could reply, ony stepped in the middle of yall and tried to play the mediator. “y/n. get in the car, now. and brielle, what we had been over for a long ass time now. give that shit up and move on.” you backed down, feeling that no bitch was worth getting into it with your man. you were lowkey tired of being the bigger person, but knew i’d be better this way than just fighting and possibly ruining your friends party. as you made your way around ony, you gave brielle the illest mug ever to let her know that even though you’re leaving, you still ain’t no bitch. it wasn’t even five seconds since you left the kitchen where you can hear the bitch starting up again. “i don’t know why you still dealin’ wit that bitch. don’t you miss me ponpon?” brielle said in a baby like voice.

“nah chill wit that bitch word bro. and you really needa stop running your fuckin’ mouth bout her too cause i may not be here next time to stop her” you smiled while ony shut that bitch down. you knew he was more on the calm side so hearing him raise his voice a little turned you on. “oh please nigga you know damn well her shit nowhere as good as mine. used to have your soul leaving your body and allat. you can act like you don’t miss me but ik that dick think otherwise.” that was it for you. it was in the blink of an eye when you were dragging that bitch outside by her hair. honestly you needed whatever glue she got bc her shit wasn’t moving an inch. as you pulled her down the steps of ivy’s porch, you felt ony trying to grab at your wrists.

“mama let her hair go right now.” he yelled. you whip your head to the side, face to face with your man as he stared at you with a warning in his eyes. your fingers instantly straightened before brielle dropped to the ground. the stare this man was giving you made your heart start pumping rapidly. through his eyes you could tell that he was saying “don’t test me”, and you had no intention of finding out what would happen if you did. it was almost instantly when ony grabbed the top of your arm, quickly walking you to his car. most of the people were already outside, migrating there as they watched you drag brielle from the kitchen to the porch. ony opened your door and you sat down, ready to leave this whole day behind already. before you could close the door you heard brielle yapping again.

“fuck you bitch you can have the nigga. ain’t nun but a piece of dick anywayssss.” you hopped out the car and sprinted towards brielle with a quickness. as she seen you approaching she tried to square up but her hands were trash. punches were flying from everywhere, connecting right to her face every time. you honestly didn’t really care too much about what she said about you, but when it came to your boyfriend there was a line to be crossed. and she stomped right over it. “keep. my. man. name. out. your. fuckin’. mouth. bitch.” she was now laid on the floor with her arms shielding her bleeding face while you continued to throw blows her way. sasha seen her friends inching up about to jump in and shut it down immediately. “if you move anotha inch ima start swinging too. we don’t do nun of that jumping shit so i wish you would try so i can fuck you up right here.”

her friends looked at each other before back up completely, not wanting any problemsm. before long you felt strong arms wrap around you, lifting you off the ground and away from brielle. you were thrown into the backseat of ony’s car before he turned the child lock on, not being able to trust you to not open the door and attack again. he made his way to the front seat and threw a handful of tissue towards you from the glove compartment. the two of you were driving home in complete silence as you wiped your hands clean. usually your man would be lecturing you right now, but there was a calmness to him that frightened you. “umm…are you mad at me?”

he ignored you, asking his own question instead. “why do you get so jealous?” he mumbled, glancing at you in the rear view mirror. you rolled your eyes, acting as if what he was saying was the most ridiculous thing in the world when in actuality, he was right. you knew that ony and brielle been done way before you even came in the picture, but the thought of him even being with her made you feel a way. ony knew you very well and he could tell how you were feeling regardless of what you did or said.

“mama how many times i gotta tell you i’m only yours huh? why can’t you just trust me?” his grip on the steering wheel tightened as he kept replaying the nights events over and over again in his head. “how you expect me to trust you when you okay wit letting bitches be in your face? bitches you used to fuck!” you yelled, holding back tears as you moved your gaze out the window. ony opened his mouth to speak, but decided against going back and forth with you any longer. “we’ll fix this at my crib. not finna argue wit you in the car”

when the two of you made it to his apartment, ony wasted no time, leading you to his room before sitting you down on his lap. “so why you don’t trust me?” he asked, his handing running all over your back as he awaited your reply. you looked at the ground tears threatening to spill from your eyes as you tried your hardest to keep your voice from wavering. “i do” ony sucked his teeth at your words, lightly grabbing your chin and facing you towards him so you could see the knowing look he was giving you. “don’t lie mama, you said it in the car. why don’t you trust me?” the tears you’ve been fighting finally broke free as you quickly covered your eyes and sobbed into his lap. “i-it’s not you pa. i-i was just a little jealous b’cause you were letting her….her-” your cries took most of your breath from you, making you have to stop in the middle of your sentence so you can take a breath. “sh sh sh i get it baby. how you want me t’fix it huh?”you shrugged your shoulders at his question, not having an idea on how he could make this horrible night any better. “a-any way you can”

a soft smile made its way to ony’s face as he lightly pushed you down on your back. he removed your bottoms before slowly getting on his knees. “this way okay?” he asked, chuckling at how you eagerly nodded your head as an answer. it wasn’t long before ony had you a blabbering mess, his fingers digging into you slowly as he took in each of you pretty face expressions. “say it again baby” your back was arched off the bed as you repeated the words ony planned to have to chanting all night. “y-you’re all mine shitt” your moans made his dick grow stiff in his pants as ony looked at the sight of your glistening wet pussy. he quickly pulled his fingers out, laying his tongue flat on your clit before eating you out sloppily.

the feeling of his skilled tongue made you scream as you pushed and pulled on his head. “again” he mumbled into your pussy, too addicted to fully take his mouth away as he looked up at your pretty face. “all mine daddy a-all mine” ony sucked softly on your clit, letting his tongue run all over it in his mouth to quickly grab an orgasm out of you. his tactic worked, making him smile as he felt your juices begin to rush out of you and wet his chin. “good girl mama”

ony stood up in front of you, taking in the sight of your post orgasmic glow as he rubbed himself through his sweatpants. the sight of his bulge made you whine in want as you slowly leaned up to free him from his pants. ony quickly grabbed your hand, giving you a soft expression before lightly pushing flat onto the bed. “s’not about me right now mama. let me do this for you ‘kay?�� you nodded your head at his words, making ony give you a like tap on your thigh to make you jump. “lemme hear your voice” at the sound of the small “yes” you gave him, ony slowly freed his dick from the confines of his sweats before lining it up with your tight entrance. “say it again”

“you’re all m-….ohmygoddd” the feeling of his thick dick sinking into your walls made a pretty cry fall from your lips. your back arching off the bed as your hand quickly flew to his wrists. ony didn’t let up, his pace slow, but his thrusts deep as he dug into you with love. “yea m’all yours mama. who dick is it?” your eyes were already at the back of your skull. small whimpers falling from your lips as you tried your hardest not to let your mind drift off into the clouds. “s’m….s’mine daddy” your words were slurred as you felt his dick begin to kiss your cervix in a way that made you want to scream. “ooouuu fuckkk”

ony’s pace began to quicken. the force of his quicker thrusts making your body begin to jerk a little on the sheets. he slowly pulled up your shirt, freeing your perky breasts before leaning down to latch his mouth onto one of your nipples. the feeling of his wet tongue on the sensitive bud making you grow wetter as you caressed the back of his head. you knew there would be marks in the morning, but you didn’t care. letting your man prove to you how much he loves and cares about you through making sweet love to your body. ony released your nipple with a small pop before moving up to your neck.

the dark purple marks were already beginning to form in both of the areas as he slowly moved his lips to your ear. “say it again f’me mama. don’t want you t’forget” as ony waited for your reply, he leaned up from your body, staring down at you lovingly before pulling out of you completely. you matched his gaze, your brown eyes big and watery as you told him the words he longed to hear. “you’re mine” with that ony flipped you onto your stomach, quickly thrusting back into you before fucking you at a fast pace. his dick kissed all the right places in you as you cried out into the air. “oh…oh my goddd daddy right there!” ony smirked as you continued to moan for him. he just started and you were already ready to make a mess all over the sheets. the sloppy sounds of his dick stroking your pussy ringing through the air as proof.

“s’too soon, need you t’hold it f’me ma. can you do that?” you quickly nodded your head, earning you a hard snap of his hips that made you yelp in pleasurable pain. “what i tell you before? talk t’me baby” he was pounding you into the sheets now, your back arched to perfection as ony kept a hand on your back and another at the top of your ass. “i….i can hold it daddy” a smile spread into ony’s brown features as he listened to your whiny voice. your pussy fluttering as you felt his thumb rub over your tight hole. “you want me to?” he asked, chuckling at how quickly you whined out a “yes daddy….please”. ony moved his hand before letting his spit drip from his mouth to your ass.

lightly rubbing his spit outside the brown hole before he lightly fed it the tip of his thumb. you moaned at the sensation, throwing yourself back on him to get more if his dick along with poking your ass out more. “greedy thing” he groaned before fully sheathing his tumb inside of you. the sight made his dick twitch as ony began to fuck you harder and faster. occasionally stroking your puckering hole with his thumb to keep you on edge.

“you trust me now baby?” he breathed, the sight and sound of your pretty moans and even prettier body making it hard for him not to want to shoot his load deep inside of you. “y-yes daddy….with my life”

“you gon cut out the jealousy shit?” ony began to pound into you, using his free hand to push your arch down deeper as he quickly fucked the both of you closer to your orgasms. “mmm..mhm n-no more” the feeling of his long dick repeatedly hitting your g spot made your legs shake under you as you began to soak the sheets under you with drool. “say it one more time for me beautiful and we gon cum together” tears fell from your eyes at the rush of emotions flowing through your body right now. the feeling of love and trust being the most powerful as you felt the coil in your stomach begin to snap.

“you’re all mine”

[milla-frenchy]

2k7 | Joel Miller x fem reader Summary: Joel finds out that babysitting isn't your only student job Warnings: 18+ mdni. PWP. Age gap unspecified, escort, dirty talk, praise kink, sir kink, size kink, spitting, pussy slapping, light degradation, oral (m/f), unprotected piv, creampie. No outbreak a/n: @not-a-unique-snowflake-blog thank you for correcting me, as always. ILY 💕🫶🫶🫶 Thanks to @noxturnalpascal who had this idea: PROMPT: Pick a Pedge Daddy character - Joel Miller, Frankie Morales, Dave York, etc. (it can be Canon or Non-Canon/AU/No Outbreak). PPCU Daddy is surprised - and excited - to learn that the grad/postgrad student he hires to watch his child sometimes also works as a: stripper/dancer/cam-girl/onlyfans-model/dating-or-escort-service (or straight-up SW) *1000 word Minimum - 2000 word Maximum The other fics based on this prompt: Dancing is a dangerous game @noxturnalpascal ; Webcam for beginners @iamasaddie ; Birthday surprise @aurorawritestoescape Follow @millafics and turn notifications on for fics updates

ao3 - Masterlist

"Good night, Mr. Miller!"

You close the front door behind you and quickly walk to your car. You’re a student, in your final year. Babysitter is your job for the first part of the evening. Sarah Miller is one of the children you regularly babysit on weekend evenings.

In the second part of the evening, you’re an escort.

A few months earlier, in a club, someone asked you to join their escort business. You had never considered it before, but the money to be earned, the relatively “classy” and secure side of the site you would work for, made you decide. However, you wanted to continue babysitting, and start escorting sparingly. 

You arrive at the usual hotel about thirty minutes before one of your regulars, so you can have time to get ready.

Joel is single, and regularly he pays for an escort.

That evening, he surfs his usual site, and he’s looking for something fresh. He has his regulars, but from time to time he likes to fuck a new one. He loves to see how they react under his fingers. Loves their look when they see his cock for the first time, then when he sinks into them. How they take his cock. His subscription costs him a lot, but he has never been disappointed.

He scrolls lazily on his phone until his thumb stops on the screen. He scrolls back a little and stares at a photo. He can’t see much of the escort's face, but it's enough to put him in doubt. Is it really Sarah’s babysitter he’s looking at?

In 10 minutes, you’ll be here to babysit Sarah. He puts his phone down and waits. When you arrive, he greets you as usual, but lingers to look at this little mole, just above your mouth. This mole, that made him scroll backwards.

He smirks, and goes out to meet a woman he fucks from time to time. When he pushes his cock in her pussy that night, he thinks of his kid's babysitter.

When he gets home, you’re sitting on the couch, watching Narcos. He wonders why the actor is wearing such tight jeans when his bulge is so visible.

You get up and ask him if he had a good evening. He smiles at you and says yes. He pauses before asking if everything went well with Sarah, and you tell him everything was fine, as usual. You gather your things and leave, wishing him a good night.

Joel watches you walk to your car and he heads upstairs. He goes to his daughter’s bedroom to check on her, and closes the door, seeing that Sarah is sleeping.

He walks to his bedroom, lies down on the bed and picks up his phone. He finds your page and looks through your photos. The escorts' bodies are much less hidden than their faces. He looks at your curves. Your breasts pressed between your hands. Your pussy covered in red lingerie. Your ass, barely covered by a black thong. He pulls his cock out of his pants and boxers, and grabs the lotion from his nightstand drawer before starting to jerk off. He thinks about you and wonders if you're with a client. He jacks off with long and slow movements, and imagines the noises you make when you’re getting fucked. The noises you would make if he was fucking you deep. He imagines your mouth around his cock and how you would suck his balls. He jerks off harder and cums, sending squirts onto his lower stomach. He doesn’t even take the time to clean himself before booking a slot with you.

The next weekend, he had asked Tommy to watch Sarah. 

He arrives at the hotel, goes to room 301 and sits in the Chesterfield chair, waiting for you. 5 minutes later, you enter the room. You take off your trench and turn towards the chair. Your eyes widen when you see him.

“Mr Miller?!”

He looks at you and doesn’t answer.

“Oh my god, it’s so embarrassing… I’m sorry, I will notify the escort service of the situation and you will be reimbursed. I am really sorry, Mr. Miller.”

He smiles and says “I think you don’t understand, baby. I booked because I knew it was you.”

You frown and tell him it’s totally inappropriate.

“Well… Considering the way I catch you looking at me sometimes, I'm not sure it bothers you that much.”

“No, Mr. Miller, I assure you I don’t-”

He smirks again, and you stop talking. He’s right. Ever since you started babysitting his daughter, you can't help but sneak glances at him. But you thought you were more discreet, though.

“Now darlin’, I’m your client tonight, so do what you’re getting paid for, and come suck my cock.”

His attitude shocks you a little, he’s the father of the child you babysit, and there has never been any awkward situations between the two of you until now. But his talk, the way he commands you, turns you on. After a few seconds of hesitation, you walk up to him, get on your knees and undo his pants. You take out his cock and pause before looking up at him.

“Come on, baby. Don’t tell me you’re afraid of one cock? That would be embarrassing as an escort, right?”

You lean down, take his shaft in your hand, start to jerk him off and take his tip in your mouth. It's so wide that it barely fits, but you do your best. 

“Look at me, when you blow me, baby.”

You try to put your embarrassment aside and glance up at him. The moment your eyes meet, his are so dark, so full of desire that you forget your reserve. You want to give him value for his money, but above all, you want to make him forget everything while he is in this hotel room with you.

You let the saliva build up and then flow down his shaft, while you swirl your tongue over his slit and let the precum invade your mouth. 

“That’s it darlin’. That’s good. Deeper now.”

You go further down, squeeze his thigh with one hand, letting your mouth go down his shaft. You then caress his balls with your other hand, while you keep his cock buried all the way to your throat.

”Shit, baby… can't believe this naughty mouth is the same that dares to talk to my daughter.”

You moan around his cock hearing him, and hold yourself back from slipping your hand into your panties and touching yourself. You pull back and suck him again. He puts his hands on each side of your head and pumps your mouth with his hip thrusts. You stay still, without moving, eyes closed, while he’s fucking your mouth roughly.

“Yeah, just like that. Fuckin’ take my cock.”

He growls as his fists clench in your hair. He stops and holds you, your mouth full of his cock. You hear him breathing heavily.

“‘m gonna fuck your throat now. Eyes on me baby.”

You stare at him, and he pulls back, before sinking his cock in your throat. He holds your head so tight that you couldn't pull back even if you wanted to. You let him fuck your throat, as he thrusts deep inside 3 or 4 times, slowly. You feel tears welling up in the corners of your eyes, as his shaft sinks fully. He holds you and says “Don’t move. Don’t fuckin’ move.”

You follow his command, your eyes still fixed on him, and you feel his cock twitch in the back of your throat.

“That’s good, darlin’. Fuck…”

He finally releases you, slightly, still setting the pace. He leans towards you and pulls your head back, saying “open”.

You open and he spits in your mouth. He caresses your chin and tells you to swallow. You do so, and you don’t take your eyes off him. You know that’s what he wants. His attitude keeps turning you on, and you feel that your panties are soaked.

“Take off your blouse and skirt, and lie down on the bed.”

He looks at you, still sitting in the Chesterfield chair, while you undress. Then he stands up, removes all his clothes and lays down on the bed, his shoulders between your thighs. He pulls aside the fabric of your panties and reveals your pussy.

“You’re fuckin’ soaked, baby…Now ask me to eat you out.”

“Eat my pussy, please.”

He slaps your clit and you cry out in surprise.

“Ask better than that."

“Would you eat my pussy, please, sir?”

“Much better. We’ll have to work on your manners, darlin'.”

You don't even have time to wonder if he's really planning to fuck you again, before he slides from your soaked hole to your clit, with the flat of his tongue, in a long stroke. You moan as he now pushes his tongue into your pussy and his nose rubs against your clit.

“Mmmm you taste good.”

He licks you again with a long stroke and pushes two fingers into your pussy, focusing his tongue on your clit. His beard rubs against your thighs and fuck… he knows how to eat a pussy. You bend your knees and spread your thighs to offer yourself even more to him, your hands gripping his curls. He raises his head and his chin shines with your wetness. 

“You spread like a slut for me, who would have known you were such a whore when I hired you?”

Being far from shocked, you moan under his words as he starts sucking your clit again. His free hand pulls on your bra to release a breast, which he grabs in his hand.

“Fuckin talk to me, baby.”

“I love that. You eat me so well. Please-”

He stops and says “manners.”

“I’m… I’m sorry, sir. It’s so good, I forgot my manners. Please keep going, sir, I would like to come in your mouth, please.”

“Good girl”, he says, before starting to swirl his tongue over your clit again.

He pushes a third finger into your pussy and you roll your hips against his mouth, trying to grind yourself against it as much as possible.

“That's it baby. I can feel you’re gonna come.”

You moan louder and louder and he adds "come on my tongue, baby. Come on the tongue of the man who pays for two of your jobs"

“Fuck”, you say as you grip his hair and come in his mouth, shaking.

“There it is… That's good, baby, you're doing so well.” 

You jolt again at his praise, your pussy squeezing his fingers one more time. He kneels between your thighs, wipes his mouth with the back of his hand and asks:

“You want this cock, baby?”

“Yes I do, sir.”

“Take it, then”, he adds, lying on his back next to you.

Shyness makes you doubt your actions again the moment you straddle him, after taking off your panties and bra. You’re so close to his face. The face of one of your employers, much older than you, but above all, the father of a child you babysit. Joel seems to understand what's making you hesitate, and his gaze becomes softer, more familiar to you. 

“What happens here, stays here, baby.”

You nod and grab his cock, pressing his tip against your entrance. You stare at his chest and start sinking on it, when he stops you.

“No, not like that. You look at me when you fuck yourself on my cock. You look at me, and don’t take your eyes off me.”

“Why?”, you whisper.

“Because I wanna see you suffocate when my cock tears you in two. Because I want you to realize that it’s my cock, that you’re gonna impale yourself on. Because I want you to remember that, the next time you come to my house and I open the door to you, even if we don’t refer to it outside of here.”

So you raise your head, stare at him, and lower your pelvis. And god, he was right when he said his cock would tear you in two. You feel it parting your folds and you can't hold back a long moan.

You keep impaling yourself on his cock, more and more, going down his shaft without stopping or slowing down, your eyes fixed on his, while he has placed his hands on your hips now, but letting you be in control.

His stare has changed too. His confidence has given way to pleasure and you can't help but smile, until you reach the base of his dick. You stay like that for a few seconds, full of his cock, and you catch your breath.

“So tell me…. since when did you wanna fuck me?” he asks you. 

“Fuck, I…I don’t know…”

He holds your hips so you stay grounded on him, and can’t avoid his questions.

“Days? Weeks? Months?”

“Oh god…hu…Weeks or months, I guess.”

“Oh baby you wanted this cock for so long?”

“Please, I wanna move…”

“Last question. Do you think about that big cock at night in your bed?”

“Fuck…Yes. Yes I do. I touch myself thinking of your cock.”

He smirks and finally releases the pressure on your hips. You start rolling them, barely lifting yourself with every movement of your hips. You rub your clit against his lower abdomen and you seek your pleasure again, even though you came in his mouth a short time before.

“Fuck look at that… you’re using me to get off, my cock deep in your slutty pussy…”

You bite your lip and realize that what you’re doing is unprofessional. You should act for his own pleasure. But you can't. And you don’t want to, for now. His cock is so good, and you feel that in less than two minutes you’re gonna come on it.

“It’s ok, baby. Use me, come on my cock. It’s here for it.” 

“I…fuck. I’m gonna cum, sir. Your cock is so thick and…my clit...fuck...my clit..it’s so good. I’m gonna…I’m gonna come, sir. Can I come, please?”

“Come for me baby, come on”, he whispers, and as you’re coming on his cock, he presses harder on your hips, to keep you fully buried on him.

You fall onto his torso and he caresses your back until your spasms stop. You come to your senses and sit up straight, before realizing that you are still impaled on him, and that his cock is still just as big and hard inside you. Your pussy clenches at this sudden movement.

“I’m sorry, I’m-”

“Fuck, baby. You just came twice in a matter of minutes, what fucker would be mad after that?”

You nod and smile gently.

“Lie on your back, now, baby.”

You do as he asks, and once lying on top of you, he says, his eyes fixed on yours “my turn to fuck you.”

He thrusts into you half way suddenly, and you can't help but suffocate. He pulls back, and immediately sinks in again and bottoms up.

“Fuck… you’re so fuckin’ tight. ’m gonna ruin that pussy, baby.”

He fucks you quickly and goes deep with each stroke. You feel his balls slap against your pussy and…he fucks well. One of the best fucks you've ever had. Maybe even the best. You hold on to his biceps and let him fuck you.

“Come on baby, use your words, tell me what you feel.”

But he’s fucking you so hard, so good, that you can’t answer.

“Oh baby… what’s goin’ on? You can’t talk anymore, I’m fucking you that good?”

“Yes…yes, sir.”

“Come on baby, give me more. Your other clients fuck you like this?”

You can’t answer, but you shake your head, while he’s still pounding you.

“No? Not a single client fucks you as good as me?”

You shake your head again. 

“You know it won’t be the only time we fuck, right? I’m not even done with you, and I already miss your pussy. Fuck…you’re squeezing me so tight…fuck.”

“More”, you say.

“More what? Words.”

“I want you to fuck me more… I… shit… I want more nights.”

“You’ll have them, baby. Ah fuck..I’m gonna fill you, baby….That’s what you want? To be filled by my big cock?”

“Yes…Yes please sir, fill me up!”

He thrusts in again, twice, three times, and you feel his spurts of cum filling your pussy.

“You're gonna empty my bank account with that pussy baby, damn…”

*******************

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[alwaysshallow]

please bless us with some soft, cosy times between simon and higher ranked reader. it is FREEZING in Europe right now, and i think our lovely man deserves to have some comfort (while he waits for the inevitable breakdown of the higher ranked reader's marriage lmaoooo)

simon riley is basically unbreakable.

you learn about it when winter strikes - cold one, you can't remember the time it was cold like this. you sit in your office in a nice turtleneck, winter jacket. under your cargo jeans, you have a pair of thermoactive leggings, and somehow you still feel like your body heat is lacking somewhere.

the amount of work you have, doesn't even let you go out and take a nice, hot drink. anything, hot chocolate, coffee, tea, you wanted anything to feel something.

simon riley had to read your mind because moments later, he enters your office. he's without his mask, only a white balaclava on him, and you automatically smile.

"tha's not for you," he murmurs, when your eyes drop to two mugs in his big hands. without thinking twice, he puts them right in front of you, and gets past your desk, just to stand by your side.

"somehow, there's two of them," you tease, looking at him with curious expression; especially that now you can see that he's in his cargo pants and a plain, black t-shirt. only this, not anything else that could protect him from cold. "you're crazy."

"y'know, you told me this too many times," he barked a laugh, his eyes going up and down on you - in seconds he seems amused by the view. "you're on antarctica?" 

"very funny. i'm dressed properly to the weather," you roll your eyes; it's hard not to envy that he's not affected by these cruel temperatures. “feels like i’m on it, though.” 

“i’d tell you that: more layers will do.” he smirks under his balaclava, when you give him a look. “when you’re gonna drink this one up, it’ll make you better.”

“thought it’s not for me?”

“not until i say so,” he hums, as he sits next to you. it doesn’t surprise you - the surprise comes when he takes your hands into his. 

you raise your eyebrow, when he shakes his head with… disapproval, you think. “what?”

“your hands are cold. no wonder that you’re still cold too.”

“so, you’re telling me this is my fault?” you ask, still focusing on his hands. he rubs yours, delicately, but quickly enough for you to feel the warmness from them.

“my ma’ used to say that in winter, people should protect their hands, feet and head. you could be in many layers, but if they aren’t covered, it’s a lost cause,” he murmurs. “so yeah, your fault.”

“how come you aren’t cold? you don’t have anything protecting you either,” you remark, at which he laughs.

“‘m a bit different, love.” he shrugged, still rubbing your hands. “but you? you’re the one to protect.”

the next day, you have a small package on your desk. leather gloves, classy and feminine, and this image itself makes your heart skip a beat. he thought of you.

[rui-drawsbox]

olba x dumenshi lets goo

little ramble about the worldbuilding cuz it my favorite thing abt dumenshi jkdsfh

besides Ruri and Cove, everyone meets as adults. Derek meets them when Cove s 16-17, Terri and Randy when he's 19-20 and Baxter comes into picture when he's 23

Yeah i'm using Cove's age as the standard lmao, i also made Ruri a half gnome so they could grow up together like in the game lol (i mean at least that's the case with half elves but i just assumed it was something universal haha)

dwarves aaaare super hairy but i wasnt sure about giving derek a full-beard so lets just say he shaves (?)

since baxter meets the gang once he's an adult, to me he spent half his lifetime with the olnf cast but went to the elves continent with his parents and since he didn't liked how dismissive they were toward others races (specially his parents, istg theyre like peak traditionalists lol) he ran off and joined our little group yay

cove is like laios but the "sea creaures" autism instead of the "all kind of monsters" autism

Ruri (and mom, shes also a gnome to me) teached a little magic to Cove, specifically water and healing spells

since gnome magic and elf magic is different, sometimes Ruri and Baxter teach magic to each other haha

dont ask me about their roles in the dungeon i dont play dnd

to me. baxter was this super classy elf, and he shows that classy-ness with expensive elf-like delicate outfits lol

Ma is a drawf (mabye?) and Mom is a gnome, which makes Lee also a gnome! Liz is still a human/tallman. Intentionally didn't make anyone a halfoot bc of their super short lifespan (mabye shiloh or jeremy)

cove suffers when they have to kill mermaids

[vivian-pascal]

I Don't Love You Anymore

joel x f!reader

summary: Joel had been with you for a while, you both had a nice house in New York City, he'd seen the way you'd look at him and he just knew that if he stayed for too long, you'd never find your true love. He knows he's way too old for you and you need a younger man, much younger. So he does something that will tear both you and him apart. Forever.

warnings: angst, crying, pushing and shoving, mention of what reader wears, reader slams her fists and they bleed.

authors note: i've been feeling really down in the dumps lately. I just feel like my life is slowly spiraling downhill. so I thought i'd write some lovely angst to pour my heart and soul out too!

Joel parks his truck on the driveway. Staying inside the car, thinking. Closing his eyes and breathing in deeply. He doesn't want to do this, god, he never ever thought he'd have to do this. Especially with you.

When you both met, you were in the airport and he had just gotten off his flight from Texas. He was heading to New York for a vacation. To get away from the suburbs and get into some classy skyscrapers.

You were walking with your phone in your hand and your headphones in. You didn't bother to look up and the next thing you know, you run into a person. Taking your headphones off, you look up to see a man.

He has salt and peppered hair, small gruff forming on his chin. You run your eyes down his entire body and instantly fall in love.

When he first saw you, he fell hard. Your small little body and the way you looked at him the day you met. He just couldn't stay away from you. He wanted to be with you every second, every hour, every day. He loved you with all his heart. You meant everything to him.

He reminisces on the days you two cuddled in bed together, laughing at each other's jokes. He chuckles to himself as he remembers you with whipped cream all over your face because he had dumped your head in cake since it was your birthday.

He turns the key in the ignition and opens the car door. Closing it, he rests his head on the window and breathes in one more time. He stands up and begins to walk to your door. He lifts his hand up and rests it on the door.

He knocks once. Patiently waiting for your sweet smile and that soft smell of your perfume. He sees the door open and there you are. His lovely girl. Standing there in a gorgeous flower dress, your hair is in a braid with little bows in the back. You smile up at him and he breathes in the smell of you for the last time.

He smiles shyly and you welcome him into your home. "Hey baby, what ya here for?" You twirl towards him and grab his hands. He pulls one back and rubs the back of his neck.

"Uh darlin', we need to talk." His face instantly twists as the small hint of fear crosses your face. "Oh." You gulp deeply as you let go of his hand. "Okay."

He walks into the living room and sits down on the lounge chair as you sit across from him on the couch. You look down at the floor and play with your hands. Waiting for him to say something.

He clears his throat and begins to speak. "I'm leaving. Tonight." Your face shoots up as your eyes instantly water. "What? When? What time? Why didn't you tell me earlier Joel? Where are you going?" His eyes become teary as he sees your panicked state. He never wanted to do this. Why is he doing this?

He closes his eyes and tries to blink away the tears. "I'm uh, heading back to Texas." You stand up and your eyes go back and forth between his face. "Joel what!? Why? I-I thought you liked it here. We have a house and-" He shushes you as he stands up and grabs your hands.

He stares down at your blood shot eyes looking into his. You look up at him mouth agape. "Are you breaking up with me?" It physically hurts him to hear the words. He closes his eyes and looks down. You remove your hands from his and look at him angrily.

"Is this what this is Joel? Your plan on breaking up with me!" He opens his eyes and sees your angry, teary, messy face. Your mascara running down your face and smudging the collar of your dress.

"Now, darlin', I-" "Don't you fucking call me that Joel." You scream at him and his face goes pale. He's never heard you yell like that before. It's like a dagger piercing through his heart over and over again.

You walk up to him and point your finger at his chest. "So all those memories we made meant nothing to you? Am I nothing to you Joel." He shakes his head and tries to back away. "No, you mean everythin to me. I don't know what I'd do if I never met you." You stand up straight and begin to chuckle.

"So if you loved me that much than why the fuck are you leaving me!" You push him and he hits the wall. Hard. Tears start falling from his eyes as he sees his girl a mess. You both just look at each other as you both cry.

He removes himself from the wall and slowly starts to walk towards you. "Don't you dare take another fucking move Joel. I swear to god." He stops in his tracks and stands a few feet away. "You don't deserve me. M'too old f'ya and I can barely do nothin'. M'not as excitin as I used to be when I was younger. You deserve someone who can take care of ya and be there f'ya when you get older." His southern drawl coming out stronger than ever as he cries.

You stare at him in distraught as he rubs his stray tears away. "Don't deserve you? Joel we've been together for two fucking years. If I didn't 'deserve' you, I would've left already." You walk towards him and grab his hands. You looks you in the eyes and shakes his head. He removes his hands and begins to walk to the door.

"Joel, where are you going? You can't just leave!" You run after him and grab onto his shirt. More tears fall from his face as he sees your tiny body trying to get him back. He opens the door and stops to look at you. "I'm sorry." He shuts the door but you immediately open it.

"Joel come back!" You run in the rain. Following him to his truck as he gets in it. You bang on the window as he backs off the driveway and leaves. You fall to your knees and scream and cry until your heart can't take it anymore. Soaking in the blankness of which was once full. You slam your fists onto the pavement of the driveway.

You pick them up to see that they're bleeding but you don't care. Nothing in your mind is making sense. 'Why'd he leave?.' 'Did he even love me?' 'Was this all a lie?'

You scream into the air and cry out. As Joel leaves, he can hear your horrid cries and bangs his hand on the window. Tears fall from his face as he sees your small body becoming a tiny speck. Nothing seems to matter anymore for him, or for you, because it seems as tho he never loved you.

tags!

@morallyinept @mermaidgirl30 @rav3n-pascal22 @mountainsandmayhem @amyispxnk @pinkcrystal44 @guelyury @iamsherloocked @itsokbbygrl @heartpascalispunk @littlevenicebitch69 @brittmb115 @kotourasan123 @simplewanderer @tupelomiss @heartramen @sinful-mind-joyful-thoughts @yorksgirl

[charcharbinks333]

the evans preferences - part two

what pet name(s) they call you

warnings: suggestive, sex mentioned, fem!reader

includes: tate langdon, kit walker, pre!death kyle spencer, james patrick march, austin sommers, peter maximoff

pink is reader, blue is character

tate langdon:

definitely big on baby

he would love being called that as well

“mhm… i missed you baby…” he murmured into your neck as he held you close. your face immediately flushed red. that was the first time he’d called you that. “i missed you more, tate,” you whispered back, running a hand though his hair.

my love when you have been together for longer for sure

kit walker:

babe/sugar when you first start dating

“yeah, i’ll have you home by 7…” kit sighed into the phone, trying to seem annoyed, but betrayed by the smile cracking on his lips which you couldn’t see. “trust me babe, i’m responsible, i promise.” and he kept his promise. “i’ll see ya tomorrow, suga’,” he cooed. he kissed you at the door, wished you a goodnight, and drove off. by the time you were inside, it was 7:01.

definitely starts calling you cheesy nicknames as you get closer. doll, pumpkin, sweetheart, lovebug, all the cute shit.

calls you baby/hun while he rails you tbh

pre!death kyle spencer:

frankly, kyle is pretty basic. babe/baby/hun usually, (sometimes love/sweetie)

would definitely call you ma/mama/mamas in private or when he’s drunk

“ma please let me,” kyle whined as he rested his hand on your thigh, looking up at you with puppy dog eyes. you didn’t mind pda at parties, but him laying his head on your lap seemed like too much. you ran your hand through his hair, a sheepish smile on your face. “how am i supposed to resist those eyes…”

james patrick march:

VERY big on darling/dear. those are the main two for sure.

“are you sure you wouldn’t like to come, darling? some of the biggest names in killer history will be attending,” he cooed in his suave brahmin accent, his hand lifting yours and his lips pecking your knuckles gently. he looked down at you with a fond smile as you pondered. “why not, it could be fun.”

he’s big on love/my love as well. on occasion sweetheart

definitely wants to be called sir during sex

austin sommers:

darling. love. honeybunch. sweetie. sweetcheeks. nothing much else to say abt him tbh

peter maximoff:

most pet names with him would be joking

sweet cheeks, honey, love, ma/mama, baby, babe, the whole shabang

hes just grateful to have a gf tbh he never thought it would happen

“pete, whats my name in your phone?” you asked suspiciously after seeing it vaguely out of the corner of your eye. he turned his phone screen toward you without hesitation, showing you the contact. ❤️Sweet Cheeks❤️. and of course, the contact photo was a picture of you, in the mirror, with his hand around your throat. “real classy, eh?” he joked.

definitely makes silly nicknames out of your name

[lotusnleaves]

MORE THAN A CRUSH

— ᴾᵃᶦʳᶦⁿᵍ: ᴮˡᵃᶜᵏᶜᵒᵈᵉᵈᵎᶠᵉᵐᵎᴿᵉᵃᵈᵉʳ ˣ ᶜʰᶦˡᵈʰᵒᵒᵈᵇˢᶠᵎᴱ⁴²ᵎᴹᶦˡᵉˢ

— ˢᵘᵐᵐᵃʳʸ: ᶠᵒʳ ᵃˢ ˡᵒⁿᵍ ᵃˢ ʸᵒᵘ ᶜᵃⁿ ʳᵉᵐᵉᵐᵇᵉʳ ʸᵒᵘ ᵃⁿᵈ ᴹᶦˡᵉˢ ʰᵃᵈ ᵇᵉᵉⁿ ᵗᵒᵍᵉᵗʰᵉʳ, ᵈᶦᵈ ᵃˡˡ ᵗʰᵉ ʳᵉˡᵃᵗᶦᵒⁿˢʰᶦᵖ ᵗʰᶦⁿᵍ'ˢ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵃˢ ᶠᵃʳ ʸᵒᵘ ʷᵉ'ʳᵉ ᶜᵒⁿᶜᵉʳⁿᵉᵈ ᶦᵗ ʷᵃˢ ᵃ ʳᵉˡᵃᵗᶦᵒⁿˢʰᶦᵖ. ᴮᵘᵗ ᵃᶠᵗᵉʳ ᵒⁿᵉ ᵖᵃʳᵗᶦᶜᵘˡᵃʳ ᵗᵃˡᵏ ʷᶦᵗʰ ʸᵒᵘʳ ᶠʳᶦᵉⁿᵈˢ ᶦᵗ ʰᵃˢ ʸᵒᵘ ᵠᵘᵉˢᵗᶦᵒⁿᶦⁿᵍ ᵉᵛᵉʳʸᵗʰᶦⁿᵍ ʰᵉ ⁿᵉᵛᵉʳ ᵉˣᵖˡᶦᶜᶦᵗˡʸ ˢᵃᶦᵈ ʸᵒᵘ ʷᵉ'ʳᵉ ᵗᵒᵍᵉᵗʰᵉʳ ˢᵒ ᶠᵒʳ ᵃˡˡ ᵗʰᵉˢᵉ ʸᵉᵃʳˢ ʷᵃˢ ᶦᵗ ʲᵘˢᵗ ᵈᵉˡᵘˢᶦᵒⁿˀ

— ᴳᵉⁿʳᵉ: ˢᵒʳᵗᵃ ᵃ ᵇᵉˢᵗ ᶠʳᶦᵉⁿᵈˢ ᵗᵒ ˡᵒᵛᵉʳˢ ᵗʳᵒᵖᵉ ˢˡᶦᵍʰᵗᵗᵗ ᵃⁿᵍˢᵗ ᵇᵘᵗ ᵐᵒˢᵗˡʸ ᶠˡᵘᶠᶠ ᵉⁿʲᵒʸ ˡᵒᵛᵉˡᶦᵉˢˢˢˢˢ

— ᴬ/ᴺ: ʸ'ᵃˡˡ ᶦᵐ ʰᵃᵛᶦⁿ ˢᵘᶜʰ ᵃ ˡᵒᵛᵉ ʰᵃᵗᵉ ʳᵉˡᵃᵗᶦⁿˢʰᶦᵖ ʷᶦᵗʰ ᵗʰᶦˢ ᶠᶦᶜ ᵘᵍʰʰʰʰʰ ᵇᵘᵗ ˡᶦᵏᵉ ˡᵒᵛᵉ ᵗʰᵉ ˡᶦˡ "ᴵᶠ ᴴᵉ ᴴᵃᵈ ᴮᵉᵉⁿ ᵂᶦᵗʰ ᴹᵉ" ᶠʳᶦᵉⁿᵈˢʰᶦᵖ ᵈʸⁿᵃᵐᶦᶜ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵐᶦˣᵉᵈ ᶦⁿ ʷᶦᵗʰ ᴹᶦˡᵉ'ˢ ᵖᵉʳˢᵒⁿᵃˡᶦᵗʸ ᶦᵗ'ˢ ˢᵒ ᶠᶦᵗᵗᶦⁿᵍᵎ ᵃˡˢᵒ ᵐʸᵇ ᵗʰᶦˢ ᵗᵒᵒᵏ ˡᵒⁿᵍᵉʳ ᵗʰᵃⁿ ᶦᵗ ˢʰᵒᵘˡᵈᵛᵉ ᵃ ᵍᶦʳˡ ᵇᵉᵉⁿ ᵇᵘˢʸʸʸ. ᵃᶠᵗᵉʳ ᵗʰᶦˢ ᵍᵉᵗˢ ᵖᵒˢᵗᵉᵈ ʷᵉ ᵍᵒᵗ ˢᵒᵐᵉ ᴳᴺᵎ ᴴᵉᵃᵈᶜᵃⁿᵒⁿˢ ᶜᵒᵐᶦⁿᵍ ʸᵃʸʸʸ. ⁽ᴬˡˢᵒᵒᵒᵒ ᵇᵉᶜᵃᵘˢᵉ ᶦ ʲᵘˢᵗ ʳᵉ⁻ʳᵉᵃᵈ ᵗʰᵉ ᵇᵒᵒᵏ ᵗʰᶦˢ ˢᵗᵒʳʸ ᶦˢ ᴴᴱᴬⱽᴵᴸʸ ᶦⁿˢᵖᶦʳᵉᵈ ᵇʸ ᵗʰᵉ ᵖˡᵒᵗ ᵒᶠ ᵗʰᵉ ᵇᵒᵒᵏ" ᴵᶠ ᴴᵉ ᴴᵃᵈ ᴮᵉᵉⁿ ᵂᶦᵗʰ ᴹᵉ" ʷᶦᵗʰᵒᵘᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ᵗʳᵃᵍᶦᶜ ᵃˢˢ ᵉⁿᵈᶦⁿᵍ⁾

Since the beginning, as far back as you can remember there was never a time when the tall curly haired boy wasn't in your life, this proved to be true when your dynamic duo had matching cribs as babies an inseparable bond as kids and practically soul ties as teens.

It had been Miles and you against the world together for as long as you've been alive. A universally proclaimed couple and you couldn't be happier to have him.

When you we're kid's and your Mom worked as a teacher at your school she did everything in her power to keep you and he close. You'd hold hands during recess share your snacks at and get each other toys on valentine's day it was the purest kind of love.

Then one day as you and your best friend were sat on the stairs of your apartment sharing an empanada he stood up. Miles took the blue ring pop out of his back pocket blush prominent against your brown skin as he got down on one knee in front of you.

"Me and my Mami went to a big party last month called a wedding and she said when you like somebody a lot this is what you do" he smiled fallen baby teeth obvious. His grubby hands pushed the ring on your equally little fingers "And I like you way more than a lot" He huffed proudly.

"I like you way more than a lot too Mile's" your chunky cheeks raised to a smiled. Rio accepted you as her daughter in-law with no objections.

Your childhood day's went by as fast as they came, and pretty soon you and Miles were in high school, older now. There you and he quickly discovered that everybody had somebody and if somehow you didn't, it was bound to happen. So Miles took it upon himself to fend off any guy that even thought about going their with you acting as personal bodyguard from then on out.

"Ma, that nigga just whistled at you and you want me to do nothin?" he looked down at you with a stunned expression "You can't be serious". One of the underclassman had just wolf whistled at you probably to impress his friends and even though being gawked at was never a great feeling you shrugged him off. Being a girl means getting cat called was inevitable, and despite you trying to convince him it was okay, Miles was gonna knock the teeth down the freshman's throat if you didn't stop him. You sighed hand on his cheek now making him look at you "I know miles but its whatever really, I'm not worried about it so you—" and before you could even get the words out he was gone bolting after the terrified kid.

He also made damn sure to fend of the constant flow of groupies that gravitated to him. When girl's would push past and approach him right in front of you, you'd always keep it classy, but a side-eye or a murmur under your breath sounding a lot like "desperate bitch" when they would shamelessly flirt with Miles immediately gave away your jealousy.

"So whats good with you and that one girl?" you tried to say calmly as Miles laid his head comfortably on your lap, but the venom in your voice as you choked out her name was all but discreet. "Who even is that?" he looked up at you lost "Her name Ashley or somethin' you know, tall, blonde, annoying— always has her hands on you even though she got a whole man" you tried to sound nonchalant but that petty quip didn't go unnoticed.

at that, his eyes widened and he scrunched his face with a scoff " Cálmate nena nadie se preocupó por su culo sediento I don't want her hermosa" He smiled squishing your pouting face.

He clicked his tongue mumbling something about how you gotta stop asking him dumb shit "I'on know whats with her and following me around but nah you know I don't be feelin' these other girls" he smirked an emphasis on Other.

The care was mutual you we're always there for Miles especially when the news about the murder of the NYPD chief of police came about. Every step of the way you could be found giving support at the funeral you kept Miles shaking hand in the comfort of your own reassuring he'd get through it.

You were there when he came to your window one night breaking down as you saw him adorned in his prowler suit for the first time. No you weren't the most thrilled when he begrudgingly confessed that he was in fact the Brooklyn vigilante on the news and no this wasn't the greatest way to grief. Still, you stayed by his side and supported him at the end of the day he was a grieving boy confiding in you, something he couldn't with his own mother, so you'd hide the suit in your closet, kiss his forehead and tell him it was okay.

You and he being together for all the intimate moments in life gave you a sense of security, it made it easy for you to assume what you had was more than a friendship. That's why your ever questioning friends cornering you about it resonated all the more.

You were sat at lunch checking your phone when your friend Kim flopped dramatically in her chair "Ughhh its not fair, why all the nigga's here gotta be such assholes" she complained to no in particular. Your group laughed but she was not amused "Nah I'm for real y'all, like seriously where the guys like Miles be at" she pouted "I'd kill to have what y'all do always bein' cute and shit s'damn shame the rest of us mere mortals don't" with a sigh she rested her head on your shoulder now "too bad your not datin' he a catch girl".

"Wait what?" you dropped your fork taken a back "What do you mean we're not dating?" the table looked at you with confusion "Well are you? I mean you don't refer to him as your boyfriend" the same curly headed girl spoke . You were speechless " A'ight so what Kim because I'm not showin' my man to everything that breathes means we're not dating?— we're just private people the whole school doesn't have to be involved to officiate our relationship" you huffed, irritated.

Another friend of yours started hesitantly "Right and that's cute and all hon' but this gives more situation-ship then anything, you two never post each other but your always hanging out and gettin' jealous over the other, You do all the couple things without the label" she raised her hands defensively. The whole table collectively agreed was that really all you and Mile's were? A glorified situation-ship?.

You wanted to argue, but what could you have even said? Mile's didn't ever ask you to be his girlfriend and he wasn't physically affectionate to you in school. If he popped up with a girlfriend tomorrow you wouldn't even have a valid argument. So on the walk home you made up your mind to figure out where you stood with him.

You’re both watching Netflix on your living room floor your back pressed against his chest, you sat between his legs warm breath hovering over your neck while he’s got a soothing hand rubbing your thigh, “Miles what are we doing?” it pauses upon your question registering. “Uh- thought we was watching grand army mami why you tryna do somthin' else?” "Don't be cute Miles I'm being serious" you deadpan losing patience by the second at that he straightens. "Okay whachu' mean by 'what are we doing' Ma? I'on read minds" "What are we doing like relationship wise? like am I your girlfriend—"

He looks confused and a little hurt, his entire face scrunched shocked you'd even ask. He runs a hand down his face in disbelief “All these years of me showing jus' how much I love and obsess over you, and your dead-ass askin' me if your my girlfriend.” he says looking at you with the most dumbfounded expression. “ The late nights, matchin' sneakers random bouquets of flowers? Como oh dios mio chica were the signs not there Princessa?” he says sarcastically an eyebrow raised.

You flush recalling just how much he does for you, “No Miles s’not that kinda stuff. I don't know me and some friends we're talking and they just made me realise you've like never explicitly asked me out before, in school we're not affectionate either and y'know I just started thinkin' i didn't mean as much to you as I thought....” you mumble. he stares at you sombrely thinking from your perspective he could understand why it looked that way.

He yanks you on his lap making you look at him and pushes a fallen curl from your now shy face "Un-fuckin-believable" he murmurs. You're avoiding eye contact when he grips your chin looking you in the eyes and kisses you. It was hopeless with this boy, you walked in radiating a bold confidence and he reduced you to a shy, flustered puddle, you tried you couldn't keep the irritated facade around him Miles made you melt like butter.

"Tienes que dejar de escuchar a tus amigos tontos, pero lo siento Mami. Y'know I never meant to make you think tha' way right? 'course your my girlfriend" he says softly and sincerely. "Sides' it's been me and you against the world since our matchin' cribs" he teases poking your side and you cant help but laugh.

In that moment all the doubts your friends had planted in your head vanished it really was you and Miles against the world. He never doubted it and now you wouldn't ever again.

TAGS

@sangwoosbsf

[atom-writings]

hetalia axis & allies (+ canada) xmas headcanons

1.6k words ~ gender neutral headcanons

tw: uhhh christmas obviously. mention of religion and underwear?? uh... i think that's it

a/n: this is my first christmas as a jewish convert so that's been weird. anyway I just wanted something quick, so its mostly a list of gift ideas (:

America

Alfred is SUCH a huge Christmas fan. I mean, canonically he dresses up as Santa, so he goes all out for the entire month of December. He's been working on a huge holiday home display for decades, and it shows.

He plays Santa at his local mall during the weeks leading up to Christmas; and on the night of, he hands out hot cocoa outside his house. It's fun, but it also means he's a little distracted when it comes to you.

What he would get you: Posters of your favourite movies, super comfy pyjamas, expensive figures of characters you like, candy you like but never get for yourself, model planes or Legos for you two to build together, novelty pens, a stupid cowboy costume so you can match <3, those handmade coupons because he 1. Loves you and 2. Forgot about Christmas until yesterday

What he would want: Any video games, Funko Pops, vinyls of music he likes, those big packs of shirts (he is constantly running out of shirts because he rips or irreparably stains them,) Marvel comics, anything with an eagle on it, those mini wacky waving inflatable tube men things, bulk pens and pencils because he also breaks those constantly-

England

Arthur is not big into Christmas and never has been. He'll celebrate with you, but he's not going out when it comes to any aspect. If anything, he finds it a little exhausting getting gifts for everyone

But, he does adore walking around and looking at all the lights. He'll do that a couple times with you in December.

What he would get you: Any novel you’ve mentioned even once, tickets to a concert both of you will enjoy, classy jackets that fit you perfectly, cute keychains, fancy art supplies, fragrances that remind him of you, bags/purses that fit your style, CDs

What he would want: Sewing supplies (thread, new needles, new fabric scissors,) framed photos of the two of you, Doctor Who merch, foreign tea, a book on how to take care of your eyebrows properly (he will not learn otherwise,) slippers, those sarcastic magnets that all millennial women have at least one of, any ridiculous piece of merch with the union jack on it

France

Francis has very mixed feelings about Christmas. On one hand, he hates how consumerist it has become, but on the other hand, nothing makes him happier than seeing the joy the season brings to others.

Plus, he does enjoy giving and receiving presents. The music too? Wonderful. As long as you don't get too stressed out, the holiday should be perfect.

What he would get you: Tons of clothes; stuff that's already your style, and completely new stuff, room decorations (NOT posters,) a reservation at a nice restaurant, bracelets that he made for you, makeup (if you like that kind of thing,) candles that smell like his cologne, CHEESE

What he would want: Fancy fabric, any clothes (he doesn’t care what they are as long as you think they’d look good on him…) paintings or photography, literally ANYTHING creative you’ve made, hair ties (he loses at least 5 a day,) bird stuffed animals, (Basically anything! Francis is not picky)

China

Christmas is a new occurrence for Yao, and he isn't the biggest fan. He'll buy you stuff for it, but he would do that normally. The lights and the music aren't anything special to him either. Basically, he won't celebrate unless you want to.

What he would get you: Elaborate, very expensive jewellery, huge stuff like a car, Chinese cookbooks, traditional clothes that he made specifically to represent you (: luxury handbags (that he got at SUCH a good discount,) tons of weird off-brand merch of your favourite show, probably a nice meal too!

What he would want: Yao is hard to buy for. Soft robes, stuff to help with back pain, face masks, Hello Kitty keychains… reading glasses maybe?

Russia

Although he isn't as excited about Christmas as he is about the New Year, he still loves the holiday. It's a nice excuse to see family, and everyone is just so happy around the season! He's especially excited to celebrate it with you.

He's not the best at giving gifts, but he could be worse. Regardless of whether you like all of it, you're gonna get a lot of stuff.

(Also, he plays Santa for the kids sometimes. It's so cute-)

What he would get you: Random knick-knacks he probably found at a local market, knitted hats and gloves in your favourite colour, a scarf to match his, tickets to go somewhere warm on vacation, stuffed animals! books that made him think of you (usually philosophical or religious novels,) pretty rocks (:

What he would want: SUNFLOWERS! (This works for every occasion,) baked goods, clothes that aren’t 250 years old- new doilies and paintings to decorate his house, pictures of yourself, friendship bracelets, stuffed animals, if you can make a scarf somehow, DO THAT

North Italy

Feliciano cares about Christmas in a more religious way, but he's never mad about getting presents. So, he'll probably spend most of the day in church, but he still did put a lot of effort into getting you stuff you love.

What he would get you: Pajamas & bath robes, shitty romance novels that he wants you to read, weird hand-made knick-knacks, makeup, strange mugs that he found at a thrift store, a painting of you (: probably a pair of his boxers-

What he would want: New paint brushes, novelty pasta shapes, fancy jackets, any art that you’ve made (regardless of quality,) cat stuffed animals, The Ability To Get A Grip, skincare products, shiny garbage (For art purposes, duh,) those handmade coupon things

Germany

Ludwig does not enjoy Christmas particularly. He's terrible at giving gifts but he wants to so desperately that he spends all of winter stressing out about it. Yes, he's excited to see your reaction to his gifts, but at what cost?!

Although he does still like all the decorations at least. Maybe he just likes re-decorating though.

What he would get you: Puzzles you can complete together, soft sweaters, practical stuff you need (like book bags, lens cloths, that kind of thing,) stationery, reservations for private tours at museums you would find interesting, a subscription to whatever silly service you want (:

What he would want: Books about city planning, nerdy card games, a fun lanyard, a new coffee machine, those aroma-therapy diffuser things, household tools like vacuums and stuff (Get him an air fryer. He’s going to be fascinated.) stress balls, pens (He is boring.)

Japan

Kiku really has no particular feelings towards Christmas. If you weren't there, the most he would do was put up a mini tree. He's stressed out by both giving and receiving presents and is only willing to do that kind of thing if you want to.

What he would get you: Electronics, merch of your favourite Sanrio character, books that he thinks you’ll like, stickers, a bento box, comfy sweatpants, cute hairpins, plushies from your favourite media, a bunch of pillows, some obscure Japanese snacks too!

What he would want: Miku figures, posters, video games, manga, general nerdy stuff, history novels (he likes to correct them,) blackout curtains, cute face masks, a Polaroid camera, a guide on socialization (Seriously.) a knit scarf, if you can knit (:

South Italy

Romano desperately wants to care about Jesus more than getting gifts. He's a devout catholic, g*ddamnit! But... he does just really love eating baked goods and getting gifts more than anything. Getting together with family, the music, the lights, he just ADORES the holiday.

What he would get you: Blankets and pillows, your favourite snacks, clothes that are a little more revealing- cruise tickets (if going on wouldn’t be hell for you,) a journal where he wrote down all of the things he loves about you (completely honestly,) religious items, fancy perfumes

What he would want: Paintings from local artists, post-its (so he can finally remember SOMETHING,) anything with the Italian flag on it, stupid bumper stickers, pictures of the other nations that you’ve written insults on, fancy patterned scarves and fabric

Prussia

Like Alfred, Gilbert loves Christmas in a very childish way. He embraces that side of himself during the holidays and he'd love it if you joined him in that. He constantly insists on going out to see the lights, and he just can't get enough of Christmas movies. Even the bad ones (He's a Hallmark girlie.)

What he would get you: A vintage music box, hair dye, DVDs of your favourite movies (just to have,) stationery, random snacks he picked up from a gas station an hour ago, weirdly sentimental jewellery? Vintage journals, pictures of himself

What he would want: Coupons (???) goofy temporary tattoos, metal CDs, tea (he’s weirdly embarrassed about liking tea and doesn’t buy it for himself?) vintage maps that he can frame and hang up, probably like, WD40? DC comics, novelty trophies, Pokemon cards, video games

Canada

More than anything, Matthew loves winter. So, therefore, he loves Christmas! Seeing you smile when you open your gifts, he looks forward to it all season. It seems like the only time of year when everyone else is either as miserable or as happy as he is, so it's his favourite holiday.

Cuddling up in front of the fireplace with hot cocoa, watching some old Christmas movie, its all he wants.

What he would get you: Comfy hoodies, comfy slippers too, hot cocoa packs, big stuff like a new PC or fridge or smth- decorations for your room, face masks, fidget toys, novelty Canadian keychains, figures of your favourite characters, festive sweets (like candy-canes and stuff.)

What he would want: Anything with a maple leaf (yes, he wants MORE of that,) boring stuff like socks, wood-working tools or like a new snow shovel, fairy lights, DVDs (because he still uses them? Why.) a new phone case, gift cards (HES BORING,) pre-packaged crafts, lotion and cologne that smells like pine

merry christmas if you celebrate! this'll probably be the last full thing I post until 2024, so thanks to all you readers for sticking around this year (: you have no idea how much it means to me. i love yall. and to all a good night or whatever santa said

[themoonweaversden]

Messeges that were found so far: STAN / STANLEY PINES / STAN PINES / STANLEY (spoilers)

This is just to collect all the codes that you can type in in thisisnotawebsitedotcom.com and their effects only (please click images for better quality)

Masterpost with all messeges / codes

You have to keep spamming it to get all of these links

Eventually you'll get this:

Transcript:

"WHEEL! OF! SHAME!

STEP RIGHT UP! It's time to play my FAVORITE GAME!! BOOTLEG SIXER over HERE spent a LIFETIME trying to hide his humiliations, BUT I'VE BEEN INSIDE HIS MIND, so NOW they're ALL YOURS for the low price of BEING MY NEW PAL! IT'S SHOWTIME FOLKS, AND THE ONLY WAY TO LOSE IS TO BE NAMED STANLEY PINES! CLICK BELOW TO SEE WHAT THIS MOUTH BREATHING CARNIVAL BAKER HAS BEEN KEEPING TO THE VEST ALL THESE YEARS. BROUGHT TO YOU BY: SHAME!

"SHAME:™ IT'S THE ONE FRIEND WHO NEVER LEAVES!"

EX-WIVES!

FEARS

SECRET SHAMES

UNREPORTED CRIMES

FAILED PRODUCTS

LOWEST MOMENTS

DARKEST THOUGHT

HOW HE BEAT ME"

If you click EX-WIVES

Transcript:

"EX-WIVES

Old Goldie Vegas wedding to a cursed gold-toothed antique.

Marilyn Fakenamé Vegas wedding to a cursed gold-toothed antique.

Brenda Chuggins Shack attraction for having "World's Biggest Thumb." (Carny Tip: Never date your own freaks. She used that thumb to hitch-hike off with Johnny Snakes 3 days later)

Sandra Sweetmeadow A kind beautiful Amish girl eho made Stan choose between her and his "sinful gold chains." He chose the chains.

Someone named "Burline" Stan has no idea who she is, but he found her wedding ring in the Shack Lost & Found, put it on, and it got stuck forever. Physically binding. Might be legally binding!

His childhood poster of "Attack of the 50 Foot Woman" (8 year old Stanley drew a ring on the poster and made Sixer witness.)

Natalia Annika Ömanövv Totally un-suspicious turist from a country that no longer legally exists. She took Stanley's creedit card and social security number while he was sleeping and still "checks in on him" via hidden cameras. Ah, love!"

If you click FEARS

Transcript:

"FEARS

The IRS Finding Out

Soos being the one to find Stan dead and taxidermying his body. (Soos would consider this an honor)

The cops calling Stan's fingertips "unusually little."

Betting Dipper in a poker game (and losing.)

Word getting out about Stan's little fingertips, people discovering that they're littler than Ford's.

Stan being dubbed "Baby-Fingers Pines" by the media and having to look into black market finger enlarging."

If you click SECRET SHAMES

Transcript:

"SECRET SHAMES

The time Wendy beat Stan in arm wrestling. 3 times in a row. She never has to work overtime as long as she never tells a soul.

The fact that no one came to his fake funeral except his mom and an IRS agent who whispered to the coffin "this isn't over."

The quick cash Stan made in 1975 posing for a "Hunky Drifters Catalogue" that wasn't as tasteful and classy as the job listing made it sound.

Was the baby mascot for the "Fussy Boy" Brand diaper rash commercials. (Claims that was Ford.)

Writing His Duchess Approves erotic fan-novel: "The Duke's Temptations at Oglebottom Estate.""

If you click UNREPORTED CRIMES

Transcript:

"UNREPORTED CRIMES

The time Stan hit Toby Determined with his car and just... kept driving.

Illegally breeding wolves to create a "super wolf." You should hear this thing howl.

Pretending to be a veteran to get a discount on PEZ, then having to invent an entire fake war in a fake country to keep the ruse going. Stan still has a "Remember Operation Enduring Excuse" bumper sticker, and regularly updates the Wikipedia page for the "People's Grepublic of Grunklestan."

Shooting out the tires of the Mythbusters Van after they axposing him for "looking kinda doughy" on tape.

Selling his heart medication to Children claiming it was "metal-flavored candy!"

Accidentally inhaling too much taxidermy glue, black out, and waking up to discover that he had somehow managed to rob himself. Still tracking down the lost boot buried by his arch-rival "Glue Stan""

If you click FAILED PRODUCTS

Transcript:

"STAN'S FAILED PRODUCTS

The "Wishy Washy!" - A washing machine that somehow makes your clothes dirtier.

The "Counter Fit!" - A rubber band you attach to your kitchen counter to exercise while doing dished. INJURY TOLL: 27

"Welcome to Gravity Town!" - A cartoon show pitch which was unanimously rejected by every network for "blatant Illuminati references."

"Flavored Lottery Tickets!" - Turns out that the kind of people who think they can win the lottery are the kind of people who ignore "do not swallow" instructions. LAWSUIT TOLL: 48

"THE SAD SHACK" - A burlap bag to cover your head so no one can see you rendomly crying during the day. Cheaper than therapy!

A soda called the "Drippy Stanley!" INGREDIENTS: Pine Sol, wood glue, & expired sun tan lotion. Soos tested it and now he can't remember the year 2000."

If you click LOWEST MOMENTS

Transcript:

"LOWEST MOMENTS

That time he somehow got an F- on a history test, which teachers thought was mathematically impossible. Filbrick made him stand on the lawn for two days holding a sign that said "Estra Stan, 3 dollars or better offer."

When "1998's Best Tourist Traps in Oregon" listed the "Mystery Shack" as #99 below "The world's bigest fence" and "the dog that might be thinking human thoughts."

His birthday the year before he met Dipper & Mabel. No one came to "Mr Mystery's Mystery-Age Party & Used Wolf Pet Sale" He'd spent hours writing comedy roasts of employees who never came, burned off one of his eyebrows attempting to make a cake, and drank the night away skeet shooting Sixer's old Beethoven Records.

The day after he met the twins, he overheard them debating whether they should escape out the window and report him to the FBI. Mabel shook a Magic 8-Ball and tey stayed.

Stripping for edible flour in Tijuana Please don't make me elaborate."

If you click DARKEST THOUGHT

Transcript:

"DARKEST THOUGHT

Pin all my crimes on Soos"

If you click HOW HE BEAT ME (You have to keep spamming)

Transcript:

"HOW STAN BEAT ME He didn't! IM STILL HERE, SUCKER!"

Transcript:

"HOW STAN BEAT ME LOOK the gambler got a lucky break, alright? A lifelong LOSER was due for ONE freak royal flush! What does it mean? NOTHING! LESS THAN NOTHING! NOT WORTH EVEN THINKING ABOUT!"

Transcript:

"HOW STAN BEAT ME WHAT MORE DO YOU WANT ME TO SAY? That a guy who once tried to EAT THE DECORATIVE POTPURRI out of the bowl in the bank OUTSMARTED ME?! PLEASE! Goofus was just following Gallant's LEAD! It was SIXER'S PLAN, PTSD BARNUM is just a side character, a resume-inflating, cheap trick loving, past-denying overgrown child protected from failure only by a force field of DENIAL AND shamelessness! Sixer ate Stanley's potential in the womb, and the only thing interesting that ever happened to him started when I entered HIS head! END OF STORY! PERIOD. And I have NOTHING MORE TO SAY ABOUT IT!!!!"

Transcript:

"HOW STAN BEAT ME ..."

Transcript:

"HOW STAN BEAT ME AND ANOTHER THING! Ever since that pathetic excuse for a 5-sensed three Dimensional one lifespanned skin-puppet was barfed into the universe, he was nothing but a carbon copy of a better genetic duplicate, and he knew it! A trillion years from now when I've broken out of this place nd taken over, he'll be remembered as the special bump under the cement truck of my inevitable triumph asterisk next to an asterisk next to an asterisk next to an asterisk who would be a joke if he was capable of understanding comedy whehich he OBVIOUSLY isn't, I mean, have you heard the hacky matreials he does on his tours, I've been inside his dreams, he WORKSHOPS that material, he PAVES over it, and the best he can do are some puns that would make a third grader cringe and vaudeville that were hack before they were even invented! Its an insult that showed to wear a suit and tie, he should be in a BARREL with SUSPENDERS!

HACK JOKES. CODEPENDENT. SELF-PITYING STUPID "FULLY CLOTHED WOMEN" COULDNT WIN LOCAL ELECTION SMUG SAS-CROTCH TACKY UNWORTHY CLICHE DREAMS "SINGIN' SALMON" AND THAT'S THE FINAL WORD!"

Transcript for this image in specific taken from this Google doc

Transcript:

"HOW STAN BEAT ME OKAY I SEE WHAT’S HAPPENING HERE! You’re just like those those PREACHY INFANTILZING AUTOMOTONS AT THETHERAPRISM who are SO OBSESSED with getting me to TALK about my “FEELINGS”. YOU THINK YOU CAN GET A RISE OUT OF ME?! TRY! I DARE YOU! I DARE YOU!”

Transcript:

"HOW STAN BEAT ME KEEP CLICKING! SEE WHAT HAPPENS! I CAN OUT-LAST YOU PAL! DO YOU REALIZE WHO YOU’RE STEPPING TO HERE?! IM LITERALLY INSANE! TRY IT! KEEP TRYING IT! I’VE GOT FOREVER, LET’S GO! COME ON! GO! KEEP CLICKING! KEEP DOING IT!”

Transcript:

"HOW STAN BEAT ME KEEP DOING IT!"

Transcript:

"HOW STAN BEAT ME I LOVE IT!"

Transcript:

"HOW STAN BEAT ME IS THAT ALL YOU GOT?!

⚠︎ FLASH WARNING FOR THE FILES BELLOW ⚠︎

Transcript:

"WHAT ARE YOU DOING TO ME?!"

Transcript:

"DO Y Ou even fAThoM ho W muCH pAIN IM"

Transcript:

"sOMeTIMES when i CLOSE my eyE i caN"

Transcript:

"I cAN STiLL sEe (encoded in alchemic sipher, author's cipher, theraprism and color cipher (in that order))"

Decoded messege: "The eyes of everyone I've ever"

(last three images)

[sylvies-chen]

ooh and I’m not done obsessing over this episode so lemme just add one more thing re: colin’s storyline. so like. I don’t know what the guidelines are for apple tv+’s content ratings and what ted lasso being tv-ma means other than that roy wouldn’t be roy without it, so idk what the guidelines are on the f slur today (although I do know that it has been said in succession at the encouragement of brian cox, but HBO Max is a whole different thing idek). but that being said… they could have kept it in. a room full of white male writers, mostly straight, middle-aged… it could have so easily been a group of people who made the conscious decision to keep the word in for “authenticity’s” sake or in the name of maintaining the weight of the moment or whatever. but they didn’t, because it’s this group of dudes, it’s this group of writers and creators who recognized that everyone would know the word that was said, and who recognized that they didn’t need to traumatize (or, in some cases, re-traumatize) their viewers just for the show’s sake. and it’s a very small gesture of goodwill that is like, the bare fucking minimum if we’re being honest, but I’m still going to applaud them for it. kudos to ted lasso for keeping it classy as always and focusing on the love more than the hate.

[halfrican-heat]

Upstanding Gentleman (Ony)

Onyankopon was raised in a strict Ghanian household. He was pretty strait-laced...until he met you, of course. Still, Ony has many tricks up his sleeve that never fail to surprise you.

A/N: Yes, I'm high. Hello. So, this is the second Ony post I've had lingering in the back of my mind. It's in head cannon format but I think this could be something. Enjoy!

Warning(s): Explicit Sexual Content; Depictions of smoking marijuana; Penetrative Sex (p in v), Oral Sex (M receiving), Sex in childhood home, Black reader in mind, N-Word used; AAVE/Dialogue with Dialect

Pairing: Sober!Onyankopon x Stoner!Reader

Inspired by: Lauryn Hill and my bf :)

Sober!Ony was raised by a single mother who kept him in line. No drugs, no alcohol and he definitely had a curfew.

Straight A student and graduated the top of his class in high school

Spent majority of his childhood playing video games and taking apart old computers his mother would bring home from her teaching job.

Played basketball and practiced frequently with his friends

Loved taking photos and drawing

Only smoked weed once when he was seventeen and felt guilty about it for a week before he told his mom. (She smacked his head but wasn't that mad)

Never had a thing for drinking. His mom let him have some wine during his graduation dinner. His uncle, later that evening, gave him some liquor. Ony wasn't a fan.

Sober!Ony who went to college in a different state-- hours away from his mother.

He chose to go to a school pretty far away from home to study photography. He loved his mom but he felt like he needed a firm separation from his home life and college life.

That's where he met you. This sweet little thing from a town he had never heard of. So cute...

...and yet you smelled like trouble. Ony's suspicions were confirmed when you offered him a blunt in your car one night. Y'all had been talking for a minute at that point but you never gave off stoner vibes.

Ony declined but didn't mind hanging out as long as you rolled the windows down.

Turns out, you were a huge stoner. Bongs, smoking pieces, a stash larger than some of the ones he had seen back home. You weren't a plug, not really, you just really loved weed. You were super smart, too. Ony had known people like you from back home-- motivated stoners who smoked frequently but it didn't impede them getting shit done. You were like that and Ony really liked that about you.

Ony wasn't sure how to proceed at first but...one thing was sure: You had a hold on Onyankopon that he just couldn't deny.

Sober!Ony who, four years into your relationship, isn't super sober anymore.

"Mama, let me get one of them fruity drinks out the fridge." "They got alcohol in 'em Ony," You call from the kitchen. "I ain't ask you all that. They taste alright-- I feel like a classy nigga drinking them." "Okay, Classy Nigga," You say, bringing him one. "Mister Classy Nigga to you," He says, with a wide grin. "Pinkies out, baby."

Sober!Ony who branched out after meeting you but didn't partake as frequently as you did.

"Let me get a hit, baby." "Nigga, you don't smoke!" Ony kisses his teeth, side-eyeing you. "Then do that shit where you kiss me and blow the smoke in my mouth." You laugh loudly, throwing your head back at his nerve. "Okay, baby," You say, sparking up. Afterwards "Shit, where my inhaler at?"

Sober!Ony who made a great impression on your parents. Perhaps too great.

Your dad loves him, speaking highly of him every time your boyfriend comes up in conversation. "That Ony is a fine, upstanding gentleman," Your dad alway says. Little does he know... "What's that, ma?" His voice is husky in your ear as he thrusts into you roughly. His hand is over your mouth as your childhood mattress squeaks under your weight. Ony has you bent over, his pace punishing as he fucks you from behind. Tears streak your face as you helplessly claw at your sheets "Better be quiet," Ony drawls. "Don't want your folks to hear us, right? Or they gonna know what a slut you are for this upstanding gentleman."

Sober!Ony who loves the way you give head while high.

After many extensive and deep discussions about consent, Ony finally lets you give him head. At first, he was chilling. But then... "Shit, baby! Fuck," He groans, his head falling back. "Slow down, ma." You got his cum on your cheek from the first time he came but you don't care. You don't let up, taking his length down your throat. You suck the entire way down, slurping as you pull back to swirl your tongue around his leaking tip. Your tongue runs along the vein underneath his shaft before taking him back in your mouth, hollowing you cheeks as you slurp him down. "Fuck," He hisses, throwing his arm over his face. You had that man's toes curling and all.

Sober!Ony who loves how sexy you are at any given time of any given day but especially loves when you're feeling yourself while off the za.

Now the skies could fall...not even if my boss should call... Your hips sway seductively to the music as you take a pull from the blunt, in your own world. Lauryn Hill blasts from the radio as your lights change colors in a slow fade. Ony stands at the door of your shared bedroom, watching you sing and dance. You turn slowly, finally noticing him. You wordlessly hold out a hand to him with your body still moving to the music. See I don't need the alcohol...your love make me feel 10 feet tall... He takes your hand, pulling your body close to his. His hands trail your body, finding your ass as the two of you grind on one another. Yeah, Ony is gonna take his time with you tonight.

Sober!Ony who loves you as much as you love him despite your differences.

"Papa, you seen my bong?" "Judie?" "No, the other one." "She in the kitchen cabinet, baby."

"Ma, you seen my screwdriver?" "The fuck you doing drinking those?" "Bae...the tool. My tool." "Oh, it's on the counter by the microwave." a moment later "Onyankopon, what the fuck did you do to my damn radio!"

Overall, Sober!Ony who has changed a lot since the two of you got together. As long as you don't give him any cause for concern, he's happy to let you do as you please (and partake when he feels like it). You level each other up in ways no one expected. You're his lady and Ony doesn't want any one else but you.

"C'mere, my lil pothead," He says, cuddling up to you in bed. "Shut up, nigga." "Watch your mouth. Now lemme rub my legs against yours..."

A/N: I had fun with this. Asks are open!

[beanlot]

MISTRESS

sevika x maid!reader

at first, you were her maid. but master liked you just enough to make you her mistress.

word count: 4.0k

genre: smut

warnings: amab!sevika, age gap, sevika cheats on her wife, slight spanking, spit, vibrator use, master/servant relationship, breeding kink

────────────────

“what a gorgeous colour.” her fingers ironing the corners of her lips, mahogany lipstick cleansing from the cedar skin in superlative fashion. she was objectively sumptuous, a classy woman surrounded by old money and platinum basin sinks; an easy life enough that she didn’t even have to raise a finger to apply honeydew exfoliation masks to her glistening skin. “don’t you think?” she stares at you through the mirror, umber eyes fanned by silky lashes - lids glossed with everlasting lustre of golden butterscotch, tempted to believe you could see your reflection if stood close enough.

“yes, madam.” you nod, fingers clasped onto a hanger, vintage dress glittered with merlot gemstones fluorescent against the sapphire tiles of the floor. you weren’t lying, it was a gorgeous colour. and madam wasn’t particularly sinister against you, or even sinister at all..

“you filthy pig.”

“don’t you dare touch my antiques.”

“look at you, fix this messy hair. i will not have guests over whilst you look like a disgusting hooker.”

mostly.

“vika loves this colour.” she sighs, french-tipped nails tapping against the argyle jewellery around her neck. her scent of prevailing pumpkin spice suffocating you momentarily when she turns around, taking the hanger from your grip; you’ll watch as she lays the dress against her body, feminine curves of her hips accentuated through the garnet jewels as she subtly twirls around. she hum, lashes batting through the scrutiny before she shoves the hanger into your chest hurriedly. “be a dear for me and tighten the waist.”

and sure, you don’t expect the best of treatment regardless. you were on the back burner, disposable in every aspect with your dull shirt collar; onyx skirt tucking in your buttons and the driest of hands from the constant polishing. “yes ma-“ a shrill bark interrupts you, and it’s when you turn around that you see a woolly poodle, pastel frilly dress, wiggling through the door.

“ugh, pinkiebear! what are you doing, my baby snuffles?” and just like that, as madam scoops the pup into her arms, you’re left alone in the bathroom. moroccan rose handwash beside her gold-plaited cosmetics, pomegranate face serums and emerald earrings; you’d wondered what the oils would feel like on your fingertips, the creaminess against your skin soaking with pulchritude. it feels like bait when you see that one tub is already open, pale watermelon serum calling your fucking name - she won’t notice, there’s no way.

so you tenderly swab at the surface, the velvety touch on your skin.. it already makes you feel pretty, glammed up, like her. and the dysphoria only amplifies ironically when you massage the pearly ointment into your cheek, the winsome highlight when you turn your head not going unnoticed.

wine glass and plate in hand as you approach sevika’s master’s study, nudging the door with your shoulder. it was smoked salmon and caviar, and if you weren’t so fond of her, it would be rational to believe she was intentionally inflicting the purgatory of starvation onto you. but she was not resentful, her muffled tone of come in prompting you to amble inside; the air murky from her cigar smoke, illuminated by dim apricot from the scattered lamps. and she’s there, with every inhale, you can decipher the ocherous flame between her lips - her fingers clearing her desk when she sees the wine bottle tucked under your arm.

“thank you, darling.” she murmurs within the fever dream, fumes seeping through her lips to which she fans out when you’re beside her desk. it’s elixir to taste, and although it’s toxin on your tongue, it’s contradicting - plate and wine glass settled against the oak, careful to avoid her disarray of books and orderly inklings when you pour the currant. she examines this, raising an eyebrow before tapping the tobacco against an ashtray. “are you hungry?”

fuck, you have no idea.

“no, master.” you shake your head, because even though you could feel your organs internally booing inside from the withering, you were under an obligation of being polite. and hell, it was reasonable for her to concern herself with your wellbeing per se: she was older, much older; yet you merely took it as manners, sympathy that you weren’t born into such opulence. so when you finish pouring, tenderly placing the bottle beside master’s glass - it’s paralysis when her coercive words refrain you from leaving the room as you intended. “come here.” she instructs, virescent globes eclipsed with hues of oxblood when you maintain eye contact from your awkward distance. she’s manspreading, white button-up loose against her chest, and the uncertainty only amplifies when master’s tone becomes demanding. “come.. here.”

so you shuffle towards her, and you’re not sure if it’s the nicotine or the peril brunt of her influential stare, but your blood pressure raises when you stop - that maybe you’d said something wrong, gotten a wine she didn’t like, or you were vicariously responsible for the chef’s error. but the neurotic thoughts plummet when you see her slice an intricate cube of the salmon, fork held out to you with sincerity.

“try it, it’s good for you.” she advises, and you’re under automatism to obey - her fingers scraping against yours when you take the fork, examining the glassy block. you’re not sure what it’s seasoned with, only able to distinguish the honey glaze and sprinkle of pepper; you couldn’t even fucking describe what salmon tasted like, a luxury that your flimsy uniform never got to see up close. and you feel emotional when it finds itself between your teeth, erupting with foreign rich oils and glacé syrup.

you want to appreciate it, had you not interpreted the investigative glances she’s giving you. skeptical eyebrows dipping in, defining the droopiness of her lids and the eclipse of gunmetal in her narrowed pupils - they search your face, because there’s something about you that master just can’t pinpoint. “you’re glowing.” she mumbles, fingers branching out toward you and framing your jaw ever so tenderly; thumb stroking along the curves of your cheekbone, the familiar and velvety texture of your skin no stranger to master. “you’ve been using my wife’s stuff, haven’t you?”

great.

of course, how could you have been so recklessly fucking dense? you’d just swabbed a few thousands onto your face and expected that nobody would’ve been able to put two and two together, and now you’re stood here like a fucking embarrassment whilst her conquering globes assess you. master was going to obliterate you for even contemplating putting your filthy wilted fingers on her wife’s belongings, and you’re just waiting for her to call the chef over to slice you into little pepperonis and use your torso as a fucking piñata for her fancydancy din-

“looks good on you.” she mumbles, and the harmonising words nosedive into your stomach with more adamantine force than waiting for her to beat you to a pulp. her fingers streamlining down your jaw before she picks up her plate, ludic smirk concealing the mulberry on her lips as she offers her plate towards you. “don’t tell.”

you look back and forth, and it’s only when she nudges the porcelain into your stomach that you realise what she meant. she was only really interested in the wine, and within her hospitality, gave you something to eat for the night.

───────────

“your muscles are all contracting, just relax.”

“i’m trying..”

“you should really look into tai-chi, saves me hours of making these for you.

i’ll be back tomorrow,

ice or magnesium for any muscle pain,

is that a chip in the wall?

anyway, i’ll see you tomorrow, my lovely~.”

you’d been waiting outside her room for about forty minutes, folded blouse and dress shirts in hand; although you liked to consider yourself respectful of master’s private conversations, not even the bricky walls and thick interior of the hallways could muffle the massage therapist’s jarringly piercing voice - one that only amplifies when master’s door opens, a tiny woman pootling herself down the hall with a bowl of water, peppermint leaves floating within the misty pool.

it’s rosemary and eucalyptus when you inhale, frissons of sweltering air blossoming your way as the door closes over only slightly. but you’re prudent, you’re conditioned to be, waiting outside her door for her to have her few minutes of privacy - but she calls you in when she identifies your shadow against her marble tiles, eyes absentmindedly tracing the silhouette of your hips.

and when you walk in, nudging the door ever so slightly, she’s face-down on the master bed; surrounded by canary silk pillows and lime basil candles, her wine cellar visible from where you stand. you approach the palladium drawers, and whilst your job was plainsailing, the difficulty of having to avert your eyes from her bare back did it’s due diligence to make it just a little harder for you. but you stay silent nonetheless, the palatable glimmering against her burly shoulders, one that made you envy a massage therapist’s expertise as you organise her shirts.

“you have pain, master?” you mumble, clearing your throat when it starts to disintegrate at the mercy of her tensing shoulders, glorious muscle twitching. “my shoulders, darling. it’s not so bad.” she doesn’t move, and although you seem satisfied with the composed silence, the thought of leaving in it made your stomach sour.

“is there anything i can do?” you offer, graphite eyes piercing into your body when she turns her head against the pillow - you can tell she’s engrossed in those retrospective thoughts of hers by the way she’s zoning out, clouding globes that flutter over you before she pats the mattress.

“lay with me..” she mutters, black pepper fragrant when she inches away, leaving you a temptingly delectable space beside her. it feels wrong, and your ears can already feel the wrath of madam’s scream when she finds out you dared even the slightest courage to lay in her bed, beside her wife.

but master was at the top of the food chain.

so you reluctantly obey, not oblivious to the raw sensation of eagerness when her bare abdomen raises slightly from the mattress - she’s toned, noir curves that only excite the vim when you’re slithering into the space she’d left you. but it’s not enough to dilute your inhibitions, your body rigid when her fingers flutter against your waist; she notices this, intoxication when her whisper caresses against your ear. “relax, relax.” she whispers, the suggestive timbre diminishing you - she waits until you slump into the satin, plumose textures under your fingertips, before her arm cases over your waist and trails you against her bare chest. it’s morally profane, warmth from her breasts contagious on your spine, skin sweltering idyllically - kittenish and lewd and wow you’re getting horny.

it’s silent for a few minutes. but you feel dirty, her vanilla comfort something you ruined.

“you remind me of my wife when we first met.” the vanilla wisps against your jaw curdling into vulgarity when her fingers tenderly clutch at the hem of your skirt, and although one part of you feels like nothing more than a doll for her to use the one night her wife is out attending a dinner, another is relieved when the wintry air strikes your thighs.

“young,” her fingers lifting the skirt enough that her perverted eyes can search your hips, the way they embrace the black straps of your underwear.

“pretty,” her nails glissading against your inner thighs, forefinger sinking between them enough that they’re under automatism to separate. you try to convince yourself that it’s because you don’t want to get into trouble, disappoint that streak of high expectations you managed to leap over the past few weeks - but by the vim in your clit, it was disgustingly undeniable it was because fantasy was becoming reality.

“fertile.” she delicately taps your clothed clit, subtle sensitivity that already gets your hips rolling into her crude touch. her engagement ring flaring in your peripheral when her left hand slinks around your body, black opal glinting as her palm rests against your breasts. “look at me.” her lips tickling against your cheek as you turn to her, hues of predatory oxblood glossing over her lead pupils. she likes that she owns you, conditioned you to be her little pet, dominated your identity to nothing more than her servant.

so the overly obscene taste on her lips when she’d pressed her forehead against yours, skin searing with wealthy indecency was no shock. she was impulsive, lips against yours, unseemly sounds of anticipated smooches as you drink up the taste of peppermint. she wants to be delicate for you, but the instinct outlasting the grace when she hears you hum. you’re heedless of your sloppy grinding, shaky exhales which only worsen when she pulls away; her thumb draping your bottom lip down only slightly. jewels of her spit streamlining into your mouth, your tongue absorbing the droplets filthily. “pretty girl.” she swallows, eyes darting along your jaw, her spit slowly drizzling down your neck.

you want to tell her that this is wrong, that she’s a married woman, but the night already feels drilled into stone when her fingers manipulate the buttons on your chest, cleavage satisfying her sadistic eyes with every one coming undone. your shirt loosens, sinking down your back and accentuating the feminine enticement master was under whilst her fingers revel in the linen cotton of your bra, the straps cunningly draping off your shoulders. “aren’t you gorgeous, look at you.” she whispers, your breasts tingling when there’s nothing there to cover them anymore, her fingers folding your bra down to your stomach.

admiring the way your nipples harden under her fingertips, delicately pinching the responsive buds. you nod, because you expect her to want you to, flinching when you roll your hips against her sturdy thigh; thick imprint of her veiny cock paralysing you momentarily.

“lean over in that drawer.” she gestures to the bedside cabinet, and you’re sceptical when you lean over, your skirt hitching up ever so slightly. and if the humiliation of having your ass presented to her like a fucking showpiece wasn’t degrading enough, the barbaric strike of her palm against it was. you squeak, flinching necessarily - her palm easing the inflamed area intricately, before walloping back down onto your skin. you want to fucking weep, blinking through the blur of your tormented tears, opening the drawer to which a plaited vibrator lays.

“that’s the one.” she confirms, taking it from your fingers as you lay back into the mattress, ass ignited with scorching goosebumps from the brutish force behind her arms. you go to defend yourself, because honestly, you feel lower than the bottom of the food chain - you were no blossoming mighty oak, but rather a withering sunflower under her assertion.. but she knows what you’re about to say. “master, i haven’t do-“

“you’ll be fine, you’ll be fine. i’ll make you feel good.” she sits up, and although she intends to comfort you, it only intimidates you further when her tongue wets her lips; fingers slewing the fabric of your underwear to the side and leaving your slit prey to her predacious stare, only amplifying when she unveils how truly drenched your folds are. but she doesn’t say anything, only leaning over whilst a bullet of her spit seeps between her lips and missiles itself against your clit.

you already feel numb, the heavenly pressure of seventh heaven when you hear the whirring of her vibrator, your thighs quivering with the company of your stimulated whines when the tip purrs against your clitoral hood. “that’s it, atta girl.” she praises, her breasts pressing themselves against your bare spine when she situated herself beside you again. it’s nirvana, humping against the vibrator so primitively, erogenous arcady to hear your incessant whimpers echo throughout the room. you’re sweating by now, at peace with the fire and brimstone breeding on your skin - but you want more, your fingers grazing over the stiff imprint of her desperate cock.

her breath is jagged, submerging the vibrator harder onto your clit, your ankles starting to twitch at the susceptibility. you’re not sure if it’s enough to make you come just yet, but that thought deteriorates when her finger glissades down your slit and streams itself inside of your hole. “fuck.. you’ve made my cock all hard.” she sighs against your cheek, your walls greeting her indiscriminately; spasming with every hum against your clit. she’s testing the waters, fingertips taking a liking to the spongy textures when she tenderly twines it upwards, the pornographic desire in your clit to orgasm more reckless than ever. but you’re not the only one suffering, because sevika is finding that her cock is actually starting to fucking hurt from the distress of not being able to just have her way with you again and again and again.

but she’s patient, finger gliding itself in and out of you; assaulting that carnal pit in your walls as your thighs tremble as she fucks you with them. instinctive sobs leaving your throat unmonitored, and honestly, you wouldn’t be able to describe it even if given a fucking thesaurus - sneezelike corkscrew ballooning itself inside your hips when she hooks another finger inside, arousing squelching with every hammer against your folds. “please..” you whisper, unbeknownst to the soreness in your fingers as they lock, clenching tightly on her belt.

and when she’s satisfied with how vulnerable you are under her, the sensitivity just right, she’ll admire the quavering of your hips and the tightening of your thighs before dragging the vibrator away from your clit. “huh?” you squeak, cunt clenching around her fingers at the sudden loss of her manipulation. you’re about to complain, wail about how much of a fucking tease she is, but she relieves the anguish by leaning over your thighs; her tongue replacing the device and doing its dirty work when it swipes over your hood, delving between your folds and schemingly flicking over your erect bud.

just like that, you’re shaking again, thigh hoisting itself up and planting itself on her bare, burly shoulder. your mewls of master twirling repeatedly in a rabbit hole of ecstasy when her damp lips envelop your clit and suck with cruelty, fingers maintaining their agonising operation; battering into you with precision and artsy discipline, like she’s done this too many times before.

but it’s dispiriting for her, because she wants to be a lovemaker for you, wants to appreciate you for the fine young woman you are - yet the throbbing in her cock conquers that yearning, and it’s then that she pulls away with such self-hatred. “are you gonna let me put my cock inside your cunt, darling?” she exhales, fingers slewing out of your brimming hole, selfishly drizzling your discharge over the mattress and coating over the sable leather of her belt when she goes to unbuckle it.

“yes. yes, master.” you comply, ultramarine daze when you blink; pixels of orchid blooming in your vision when you even did as much as look down to her belt. fingers tackling the every latch, submerging as they frame her veiny shaft - cock springing out and admittedly, inciting nothing more than disruptive thoughts of am i going to fucking live to see tomorrow after this.

she’s thick, and monumental.. fucking handcrafted by gods with such clarity. enough that all of that internal envy becomes more.. not envy, because you know this is gonna really fucking hurt, and you’re not liking how much she exceeds your expectations at the expense of what’s gonna happen to your poor fucking vagina. “do you still want this?” she murmurs when she notices the hues of uncertainty in your eyes, superficial doubt that she interprets easily - it’s an ego boost, artificial concern to conceal her everlasting inclination to ruin you. but you blink at her, flickering between her eyes and the slightly palatable mulberry tip of her cock, before you nod.

it would be cruel for her to nosedive straight into you, and even she knows this, her tip glissading through your folds and lubricated with your slick. she’s slightly sensitive, the warmth of your cunt only amplifying the immense throbbing, but she’s consistent this time - your clit rubbing against her head only instantaneously as she accustoms herself with your textures.

“this might hurt, my love, just a little.” she whispers against your jaw, fingers grappling at your hips as her own angles forward, tip insidious as it skims into your walls; your body merely a betrayal of your conscience when your walls welcome her. but it’s smooth, as she pushes herself in with such fucking entitlement, your insipid moisture coating her cock.

because she owned you, every little fragment.

her mindless breaths against your bare shoulder, the subtle rocks in her hips purely intuition. she hasn’t felt this in years, the vehemence of her girth wrapped around such a fine woman, and it motivates the urge for her to start thrusting your hips back into her. your whimpering sobs with every cudgel of her skin against yours, the indignity of her abdomen pounding against your spine and the raunchy heat of her cock assaulting your cunt.

influx of adrenaline when she hears you mewl, her sloppy kisses on your nape sultry and blistering. “i know, i know it feels good..” she sighs, both hands clenching at your thighs, your hips, your waist- anything to feel herself become adaptable inside of you, anything to get a taste of the rapture inside of herself.

“pretty.. pretty girl..” her muffled groan echoing in your ears as she gets herself off into you. she was dictating your self-worth, dictating your fucking life.. and although some of it felt as if it was just pulling the pieces together, another felt it all shatter into irreversible ruins as her left hand compressed itself onto your clit; engagement ring ever so slightly abrading itself against your wet folds.

and that’s when you feel it.

the sheer pinnacles of rhapsody so distinct as her fingers roll your clit in circular motions superlatively, cock swollen and erect. “please.. please..” you sigh, the jagged timbre exposing how receptive your bundles of nerves were; fingertips touching the very eminent icicles of orgasm when she speaks her foul language in your ears.

“i’m gonna come inside you, do you want that?”

“uh huh.”

“gonna make you the mother of my kids..”

“mhm-hm, master please..”

and then it erupts inside, whirlwind of frenzy that you could only compare to what felt like being edged for hours. your clit numb and jaded, the overstimulation aggravating as your walls pulse around her cock so tightly that she doesn’t even need to continue pummelling into you. conclusively, you were a mess - her palm sealing itself over your lips to repress the uncontrollable cry, tone it down ever so slightly, arms that confine your body as you tremble and do your upmost fucking best to recover.

and after a few minutes of her rocking a few inches back and forth into you, the dishevelled grunt and adhesion of her bangs against your cheek; quivering fingers against your lips and hips that airbrush themselves to divinity let you know that she’s just came.

and something feels off, seriously off. so full and saturated, and it’s when her cock slews itself out of you that you know there’s no way you’re the only one behind all the mess; looking between your legs and flinching at the pearly cream drizzling out of your hole, thick and balmy. your juices meshing together in such harmony that you feel disgust, and yet hypnosis. because she never wanted a maid,

she wanted a mistress.