Sage hear me out...
Divorced dilf art who calls his younger gf mommy
art stays cooped up in the house all day—everyday—when you’re out at your hot new job.
he thinks about all the guys your age who probably ogle you and try to make passes at you, not knowing that you’ve got a man pushing 40 waiting at home for you with dinner and a pair of warm, strong open arms.
sigh.
when you do get home, he’s there to greet you (as always). he walks over and holds you close; kissing your cheek, and then your lips and your neck. each one soft and sweet and attempting to wipe your mind of any flirtation from younger men that you may or may not have endured throughout the afternoon.
“hi,” he whispers, and you slide your fingertips down his lower back, making him tremble like a wet kitten.
“hey, baby,” you hum in return. you’re shorter than him, and so when he leans his weight into you his forehead naturally falls into your shoulder. he smells like warmth and outdated cologne and need.
he mouths at your neck in the next moment, his hands sliding to lovingly cup your waist, “i missed you so much.. can i have you now?” he breathes out, his voice shaking and pleading. you feel something thick and warm press into your hip from inside his sweatpants.
and you chuckle and shake your head. he bites his bottom lip to stifle a petulant whimper.
“i missed you too,” you nip at his ear, “but i need you to use your manners if you want something from me.”
he stiffens for a moment before he stumbles forward a bit, taking you with him and gently pushing your back up against the door. “i’m sorry.”
the apology spills from his lips with an earnest desire to make his obedience known. he’d never want to disappoint you. you’re all he has these days.
“can i… can i please have you now?”
a breath. a shake of your head. a rock of his hips against your body followed by a sorrowful, begging moan.
“no?” he shifts against you, his body aching for yours.
“you’re forgetting something, Art.”
it only takes a moment for him to process your words before he’s mumbling a slurry of “i’m so sorry”s into your neck. but apologies only go so far, don’t they? he needs to correct his behavior. he needs to show you that he knows what you want from him.
“please…” he whispers, “please, mommy..”
the honorific rolls off his tongue like honey, heavy and sweet. it hangs in the air between you two and then you let out a low chuckle, “much better.”
“mommy,” he breathes out again, his erection involuntarily pulsing against your body through his clothes, “mommy, mommy, mommy—ngh“
his tone grows more desperate with each mumbling of the word; higher in pitch and more urgent. your hands move up to stroke his short blonde hair, and then you whisper into his ear.
“what do you want?”
god, what doesn’t he want? he wants your hand down his pants, your perfect cunt wrapped around his unworthy cock, your mouth, your lips, your tits. everything.
but he knows you. he knows that this is a trick question. you’re phrasing it like you’re going to give him something, a treat—a reward, but it’s a bit of a trap.
there’s a right and a wrong answer here. pick the wrong one, and he’s in for a night of painful orgasm denial (coupled with a ruined one to end the evening).
but luckily, art is smart. he knows what you want to hear.
“i.. i wanna eat mommy out.”
you pull back gently from him; and judging by the look that spreads over your face when he says that, he picked the right response.
you smile, and then your hands slide from his hair to his shoulders. in an instant, art finds himself being pushed down to the floor in front of you. he can’t help but scoot forward and shove his boner against your ankle, rutting himself into your soft skin as he dribbles precome in his briefs.
you lean back against the door, hiking up your skirt, before you’re looking down to him expectantly.
“don’t make me do all the work, baby,” you practically purr.
art’s hands scramble up your thighs to your panties, which he peels off of your sticky core with wide eyes, letting the thin fabric garment fall to pool at your heels. you giggle.
you kick them off to the side, feeling your boyfriend’s hands clutched around your legs. you sling a leg over his left shoulder, spreading your folds for him to see, and he wastes no time in parting his lips and engulfing your heat with his mouth.
you groan, letting your head loll back, and you move your fingers wander to the back of his hair once more to push his face further against you. you grind on his eager tongue, feeling him flick it over your clit as he whimpers and suckles. what a slut.
his baby blues look up to you with weighted lids, lapping at your cunt like it’s something he’s been starved of for years. his pupils dilate intensely as he stares up at you like you’re a god; something holy and unreal. and when you shake over his mouth’s ministrations, getting close, he lets out a long, drawn-out whine into your core.
he’s murmuring something that sends vibrations up your spine from the coil deep in your gut. it’s hard to make anything out when he’s drowning in you and loving it, but you can decipher bits and pieces.
“please, mommy”
“come in my mouth, mommy”
“give it all to me, mommy”
“i can take it, mommy”
you’re everything he’s ever dreamt about. you bend his perception of time and space and reason and logic. how could a sweet, beautiful, young thing like you ever want a washed-up, older athlete like him?
he prays that you don’t only like him for his money, and then he closes his eyes and mouths at your sensitive bud. he drools all over it like a sick dog, his brows pinching up as he moans out incoherent pleas for you to finish.
and holy fuck, you come hard.
a strangled cry jolts out of you as your back arches, mixing with a helpless sob from art, and then you absolutely soak his tongue with your juices. it gushes all over his face and he swallows as fast as he can; hell, he nearly chokes on it.
“ffffuck! art! oh my god, good boy, good boy, such a good boy!”
you rock over him until your orgasm recedes, and you pull his head back from you shakily by your tender hold on his hair. strings of your slick cling to the lower half of his face and the tip of his nose; a lewd squelch echoing out as he’s forcefully disconnected from your body. a dazed smile graces your lips and you peer down to watch as art’s hips shake against the hardwood floor and a dark stain appears at the front of his sweats. it’s a pathetic sight, really.
but you watch him moan softly and keep his gaze trained on you as he wipes his chin messily with the back of his hand.
“was i good?” he whispers, like he’ll cry if you say no.
he needs to hear you say it when he’s not lost in the throes of your climax.
your chest is still heaving while you try to slow your labored breaths, but you lean down anyways and meet his lips with yours. you taste yourself on his tongue. he shudders and winces.
you pull back, your bottom lip brushing his.
“so good, baby..”
art kisses the corner of your mouth softly, just once. he’s melting into you.
he loves you. but he swallows that down for now. he opts to murmur out something that’ll sum up everything he feels in a more palatable manner. something that makes him seem less desperate to keep you all to himself for as long as you can tolerate him.
something that he’s earnestly dying to say.
something that he knows you deserve to hear.
“thank you.”
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I come with more brain rot that occurred to me during my shift.
Xiao being so so nervous to hold your hand with his gloves off. Please kiss the emos hands. He's so scared he's gonna hurt you, but he also wants to make you happy. I personally thing he has sharper canines so the look like fangs, kisses when he mentions them are maditory. He might Telenor away the first few times but after that he might pick up and try and get more kisses.
Scaramouche doesn't know how to complement people. His Kazuha voice line is proof of that. He will try so hard, bur they just come out so wrong. Please teach him how, or ask Nahida to help him. He does love you he's just gotta figure out how to say it.
sharper canines Yes but also xiao with longer and sharper nails…. xiao-with-more-birdlike-design-characteristics my beloved ueueghghh..... anyways moving on
start by taking off his gauntlets first n then kiss his gloved hands to get him used to it! help him get less nervous about handling you by doing small things like that, interlocking your fingers together (still without the gauntlet) and, when he’s finally almost to the point where he’s comfortable ditching his gloves, suggest wearing his gloves in his stead!
there’s still going to be a barrier between your skin and his, so, using his logic, it should be fine! plus the added intimacy points because you’re wearing his gloves….. they might not quite fit but it’s the thought that counts anyways
ooh and when he gives you the green light to hold hands without any gloves… give him so many smooches he’ll forget why he was nervous in the first place ♡ and it opens up a whole buncha new things you can do together! like now you can do each other’s nails! (or just his, if you’re not the biggest fan of manicures)— either way, he’ll still come to you to file his talons nails
he could do it himself by either using the nail file you got him, or by going out to clear some monster camps without the help of his spear, but he prefers the gentle way you handle him instead ♡
scaramouche my beloved. my awkward, maladroit, clumsy, beloved. he knows what he wants to say, and he's so sure of himself that he can say it, but as soon as he opens his mouth it’s like he just…. short circuits.
it's something he never wants to admit, but when he notices that you stopped smiling as much as before when he started... trying to compliment you? because he just ends up confusing you, and eventually frustrating you with the strange "insults" he ends up throwing your way? he can't stand it
but you catch on easily (because he's easy to read once you get used to his attitude), and gradually just play up the act of being hurt whenever he tries to compliment you
he eventually drags his feet to nahida for help, but she already knows why he's scoffing more than usual because you went to her for advice. but she still helps him and pretends she doesn't know why he's asking her "how to compliment people without making their smile droop immediately"; and when he goes to use his newfound skills, you beat him to the punch by complimenting him instead
needless to say, he knows how to compliment you now ( ͡º ꒳ ͡º) will he do it? ehhh, give him some time and eventually he will ♡
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