#or at least know that he thinks of himself like that

[huntressftw]

Wanting a Divorce Gone Wrong | Possessive Husband Simon Ghost Riley

+18 cw: really mean Simon, a bit toxic, smut, rough sex, doggystyle, giving head, threats of taking life, creampie, manhandling, bit of bully Simon, compromises made

The relationship between you and your husband Simon Riley was rocky to say the least. Not much different then when you two began dating in truth. Just a whirlwind of emotional upheaval, intensity, and soul shocking sex. The tornado that is Simon Riley ended up being a ride you just couldn’t bear to be on anymore, not with things remaining the way they were.

Simon’s an incredible man, you’d gotten to know him in ways that most people he “knows” haven’t even brushed the surface of.

But the night’s are just cold, at first you thought it was just you. Maybe you’d grown more sensitive to chilly weather, so you’d turn up the heat and wear one of his left over hoodies in the rural farmhouse he’d bought for the two of you since the beginning of your marriage. However, you simply weren’t able to shake the feeling of coldness, and overall emptiness.

Over the past two years, Simon’s been deployed much more and for longer periods of times then before.

You knew it was apart of the marriage, you’d faced it when you two were just dating and you’d thought that you had the capacity to handle the lone-ness of a home where you are mostly the only person there. So yes, the house is cold. Colder than you felt it should be for a marital property. It was lonely, you loved Simon, and you loved being his. Just the thought of him made your body shiver in remembrance.

He’d truly ruined you for any other man.

Spoiled you beyond words, loved you more than himself, and owned your heart. But the loneliness of being so far from other humans—thanks to your life in rural area with him—was eating at you. Especially now when your husband hardly comes home, and when he does it’s for a few short weeks out of every year. Because he was being deployed somewhere, to do only God knows what, and for an unspecified amount of time.

You were thinking of filing for a divorce.

It breaks your heart to consider, the reality of the situation absolutely shatters you. You atleast decided to raise the idea to Simon when you see him again. You knew that this is the absolute last thing he’d ever expect or want to face when coming home from deployment. However you can’t keep swallowing your feelings. You haven’t seen him in 7 months at this point. He promised to call, video chat or at the very least text when he could. And he hasn’t, the most you’ll get is a quick check in message about once a week at ungodly hours.

His job has been eating away at your marriage for two years now.

You knew that any moment now he’d step through the door of the home you both made and cherished. Knowing the impending weight of the conversation to be held was nauseating as you sat on the couch.

You were very informally dressed for the inevitable conversation.

Sporting that one pair of tiny pajama shorts he loves on you—bought you a pair in every color—and wearing a comfortable top as you waited. Lying back against the arm of the soft cashmere couch as you stared at the muted tv screen. You wanted it to be silent, needed the extra opportunity to think.

Think of how to tell the man you love, that you couldn’t go on like this.

It would either make or break this marriage. As you fondled with your wedding ring and spun around your ring finger repetitively. It was time to find out.

You’d heard him before you seen him. Hearing the sound of keys jingling on the other side of the front door as you heard Simon push in his key and turn the lock. Hustling inside of the comfy and spotless farmhouse before locking the door behind himself. He hadn’t looked over at you yet, likely still trying to get comfortable as he leaned over to untie the laces on his combat boots.

You looked over the back of the couch, your mood on the more solemn side as you watched your husband. “Can feel ya eyes on me”, you hear him speak in that gruff tone he uses when he’s trying to decompress.

“Just looking”, you reply softly as you keep your eyes on him.

Simon’s dressed in loose black sweat pants, so it’s obvious he stopped by the base to clean up before coming home, and he wears a giant black zip up hoodie. Sporting his comfort mask, simply the skull balaclava without the hard plastic shell he wears with his other mask.

“Baby… need to talk to you”, you say as you watch him straighten up and look over at you. Clearly trying to decipher the seriousness of the conversation. He knows that you typically avoid confrontation like the plague, so he just stares. His pale blue eyes just leering at you as if he’ll see into your thoughts just by looking for long enough.

“Wha’s the matter?”, he asked in a serious tone as he still stood on the doormat with his eyebrows furrowed.

You never speak like this, especially not when he’s just come home. You hardly ever see eachother at this point, just a few weeks here and there throughout the year. It’s become insufferable, his job—which you know he loves and you admire him for doing—is absolutely crushing your marriage at this point.

You decide not to tarry, and just come out with it. One thing you love about Simon is his honesty, he may be blunt and sound a bit crass. But he’s fostered a great ability to be honest with eachother so far, and now you need to use it more than ever.

“I…..” you say while feeling a bit of anxiety as you looked over at your husband.

He stood frozen as he waited for your words, he didn’t know what to expect next. “C’mon, out with it”, he huffed without any hint of annoyance, just curiosity.

“Simon… I think we should divorce”. Your gaze flickers to the cashmere couch you seated upon when you say the words. Your eyes not being able to look at him as you expel such treasonous words from your lips.

Silence engulfs the room. Absolute stillness, as the silent moments past. The tension in the air makes it feel suffocating. You’re beginning to wish you’d unmuted the tv when you had the chance to atleast lighten the atmosphere. Simon simply stays still and just stared at you. His eyes squinting almost into a glare as his gaze focuses on you, unwavering. He doesn’t seem flabbergasted at least. Not overwhelmed with shock but rather he seems to be growing furious.

His hands balling up as he instantly reaches his hands up to the neck of his balaclava and itches at it.

“Ya want to leave me?”, he says when his gaze finally shifts to the floor before him. His tone hardened, as his eyebrows remained furrowed and his face wrecked with tension beneath the mask.

“I…”, you pause again.

Unable to find the right words to fix it. If it can be fixed still…

“Simon, I want to grow old with you. Like we always talked about. But I don’t think I can handle the way our marriage is going. You’re never here, ever. And it’s been two years of this, it’s unbearable”, you admit in a calm tone. Just keeping your gaze planted on Simon’s body. His biceps bulging beneath his hoodie as he stands still, clearly trying to process the information he’s faced with.

“Don’t want a divorce”, he says after a deep breath.

He finally steps away from the front door, moves toward you in the living room area as he moves to sit on the couch opposite to you. “I wanna save this, wanna fix it. You tellin’ me you think we’re beyond fixing?”, he says in an exasperated tone, clearly not responding well to the idea of divorce.

“Ya found some other bloke who’s putting these… these fucking ideas in your head?” He huffs with fervor. Tilting his head to the side slightly as he faces wretches into an expression of irritation.

“No! No Simon I haven’t met anyone. But you’re never home, it’s lonely here. And you never call, you don’t check in. How can you expect this to work?”, you respond. You’re tone edging on the cusp of resignation. He couldn’t actually believe that after seven months of radio silence he would just walk in through the door with no issues to resolve. You didn’t believe it. Simon simply clenched and unclenched his fist, standing behind the couch and looking down into your eyes.

“Not leaving me”, he asserted.

It didn’t sound like a question but more of a statement. A challenge even. You took a deep breath while staring up and into the hardened gaze of your husband. “Something has to change”, you say with seriousness. Because something does, you can’t allow yourself to live like this for another however many months.

“Giving me an ultimatum”, he says while reaching his hand forward to grip onto the couch. Knuckles growing bone white as he held it beneath his mammoth hand.

“No, I’m telling you what’s going on. I can’t do this anymore Simon. And I know you love your jo-“ you speak carefully as you try not to overwhelm him. Not wanting things to explode into an argument—which seems to be the direction you’re heading.

“I’ve been in the field longer then you’ve be alive, it’s all I know”, he reveals as he shoulders weigh down with a hint of melancholy. His vulnerability made you stand without thinking, hurriedly rounding the couch to stand before him and place a soft hand on his chest. “I know, but these missions Simon….I hoped after last year things would slow down. But you’ve hardly come home four times this year”, you say softly while rubbing his chest softly. Your smooth touch obviously relieving him as he releases a deep breath.

“Can’t divorce”, Simon says while reaching for the back of your neck with a mixture of gentleness and roughness.

Craning your neck to look at him in his eyes, he holds eye contact with you. It dawns on him that the time has come sooner than he thought it would, and it seemed this situation was signaling the end to his days in the field. When Simon married you he took it seriously. The little courthouse wedding you two had—practically just the marriage license signing with an officiant—had meant the world to him. It meant he wasn’t so lonely anymore.

His life had meaning, he had a reason to look forward to coming home. Not just coming home to a place, he was coming home to you. He wasn’t looking to change that any time soon.

When he’d bought this house for the two of you, he envisioned the rest of your lives so clearly. You being surrounded with your children, and him being the doting and loving husband and father he knew he could be, would be.

“You’re mine, my wife. No one else’s.”, Simon says almost more like he’s reminding himself then you.

“But Simon-”, you rebut softly.

He simply waves a hand in the air like he can just cancel whatever words you were about to spew. “No buts, you signed the paper. You told me forever. Are you a liar?” He face tightens as you stared at you, one rogue hand slipping behind you to grasp at your ass, squeezing it deliciously while pulling you closer to him.

You’re breath hitches at that question as you look at him in surprise. “I’m not a liar Simon”, you say as you use your two hands to brace you’re self against his chest as your trapped in his hold.

“So stop trying ta leave me, be a good wife and be devoted to ya husband”, he says as continues groping your ass softly in the little pajama shorts you’re wearing. You bit your lip at the motions, the feeling of his large hands on you after so long was making you grow wet in your panties. You missed him, but what about this issue? It needs a resolution. “Simon I can’t go on like this”, you huff as you look at him. Hoping he can see the seriousness in your gaze, and how much you want things to get better between you.

He sucks in a breath as he nods, “I know. Know ya wanna fix this too”, he assures you.

“I aven’t seen you in months, this is what I got to come home to? C’mon wifey”, he shakes his head in dismay. Looking at you as if you were the one in the wrong here, making your husband come home to these issues. “But-“ you try to speak before Simon clicks his tongue. The silence in the living room reverberating the sound mercilessly.

“No buts, I heard ya. But are ya hearing me?”, Simon asks seriously as he reaches a hand up to remove his balaclava. Tossing it on the couch beside you both. You can finally see the entirety of his face. His face being fixed into a deathly scowl. The energy of him dominating the room and ultimately you. You nod your head at his question, making it known that you understand him as well.

“Ow are ya planning to fix it?”, he asks with sternness oozing from his tone.

“I’m gonna please you”, you say as your lips just move for you. Were you ever hearing yourself? This was a serious situation, and instead of getting to a resolution like you should. You were submitting to lust.

Simon nods as you just stared at you, watching you bend to your knees like second nature. Getting on your knees before him and tugging at the waist of his sweatpants. “Gonna show me how much of a good wife ya are?”, he says with a tone of steel. His indifferent eyes never straying from yours as he watches you pulling his sweats down. Pulling his boxers down afterwards to be face with his bright red and angry looking tip. Precum spilling from it as cock faced you.

You could see how excited he was as you used your hand to raise his cock towards his stomach. Taking your warm and wet tongue to lick the underside of his cock.

Your tongue trailing from his balls to the tip as you finally engulfed it in your mouth. Licking up the precum that oozed from the tip of his cock.

“Fuck baby”, he moaned as his released a breath from the pleasure.

You couldn’t help but squeeze your thighs together. Surely both your panties and sleep shorts were soaked in the middle. “Mmf you sucking that dick like a champ” he encouraged you as you began to bob your head on the tip. Using your hand to stroke the rest as you worked your mouth down.

Simon’s mouth fell open in pleasure as he watched you work your wet and warm mouth down to the base of his cock. Your hands moving to grip his balls instead as your stroke them while sucking his cock.

His chest rises and falls heavily as he watches you work. Reaching his hands up and he pulls his hoodie over his head and drops it to the floor beside you both. Repeating the movement again to remove his t-shirt.

“Eat that fucking dick”, he groaned in pleasure as he reached a hand to the back of head. Lightly holding on.

You swirled your tongue on the base of him to the best of your ability before pulling back to rub his tip on your tongue while looking up at him. Simon’s stomach twitched in pleasure as he tried to keep himself steady. His eyebrows tensed as he watched you work him tirelessly. “You love this huh?” He asked you while watching you repeatedly suck from the tip to the base of his cock like you were planning to eat him.

He flexes his fingers that grip your hair as he pauses your movements to start slowly thrusting in your mouth instead.

Tears build in your eyes at this movement, the tip of his hitting the back of your throat repeatedly. “Mm-fuck, best fucking wifey”, he praises you as you take it. Placing your hands on his naked hips to as he throat fucks you. Simon rolls his hips into your mouth repeatedly similar to like when you two have sex.

You can’t help yourself. You’re hands trailing into your soaked pajama pants to your clothed pussy to place with yourself.

You were so turned on right now that it made your stomach twist. “Ah ah, don’t touch my pussy without me”, Simon pauses as he demands you remove your hand. You comply quickly as you look up at him.

“That what you been doing when I’m out on deployment? Been playing with my pussy without me?” Simon huffs as he watches you try to shake your hand with his cock still in your mouth. He rolls his eyes in annoyance as he pulls out of your mouth and watches you take a deep breath.

“You think that’s okay? Think you’re getting away with it?”, Simon asks seriously like looking at your kneeling form on the floor of the living room.

His cock standing hard as it glistens with the wetness of previously being in your mouth. “Take your clothes off”, he demands. You hurriedly work to comply with his request as you remove your top and shorts. “Good, now arch your back and show me my pussy. Been missing er” Simon orders.

You arch your back against the floor of the living room, pressing your face against the floor you mopped early today. Opening your thighs so he can see your wet pussy showing behind you.

Simon releases a groan of excitement, reaching a hand forward to cup your pussy. “Y’know how times I got fucking distracted on my missions thinking about this pussy?”, he slaps it which makes you squeal against the floor. Your hand gripping the floor softly to brace yourself. “Answer me”, he demands as he slaps your pussy again.

“No baby I don’t” you squeal as you lower yourself into a mean arch for him.

“Tha’s alright- gonna show you. Make you feel it”, he ensures with nerve wracking calmness as the cool palm of his hand cups you and squeezes your pulsing pussy. Simon groans as he grips the his hard and sensitive length. The tip still an angry red shade as he rubs his tip up and down along the wet hot slit of your pussy.

“Fuck” he hisses.

“Hmph. And ya wanted to me to give this perfect pussy up. Let ya dance off into the sunset with some bloke who wouldn’t know wha’ to do wit ya”, he huffs with a dry laugh after. As if he was in utter disbelief that you attempted to do something like that. Something so treacherous, so unfair. He lifts a heavy hand and smacks your ass with the weight of ton of bricks. Your body shivering unconsciously as your ass cheek surely burns a bright red.

“Tha what you wanted to do?”, Simon asks in a gravelly tone. Clearly anticipating an answer.

“No baby, I didn’t. J-just wanted us to be together m-more” you stumbled over your words, your head turning to look over your shoulder at him as you spoke. Your body antsy with anticipation as the palms of your hands secrete sweat on the wood floor. Simon slaps your ass harshly as his eyebrows grow tense watching your ass ripple from the slap.

“Eyes forward”, he barks out. You lay the side of your cheek on the cold wood floor once more.

“Disrespectful lil thing, gonna knock some sense into ya” he mutters more to himself than you as he finally slides in thick length into your pussy. Your sweaty palms struggling to grip at the floor as you try to brace yourself for the entirety of him. Your pussy pulsing egregiously for a woman who just claimed to want a divorce from her husband.

“O-ouh, god please”, you cry out as Simon places a firm hand on your lower back, ensuring that you hold your arch.

Simon makes a grunt noise as he applies pressure to your back, not laying his weight on you too much. But just enough to give you no room to move. He continues his slow thrust into you, not stopping until you take all of him. His dick stretching your pussy wider as you haven’t seen him in months—haven’t had sex in months as a result.

You’re so incredibly wet that the whole living room is marred by the sound of your pussy’s wet squelching. Simon takes another hard slap at your ass making you moan out.

Finally you take him until the base, and it’s at that point that Simon starts giving you slow but hard strokes. “So rude ta’ me” he speaks in a clear tone, his eyes watching your pussy stretch to accommodate his strokes. “M’sorry baby, didn’t mean to”, you apologize in a squealing tone. One thing about the two of you, was that the sex was incredible. Unmatchable.

“M’sorry too” he admits as he continues a steady pace.

His apology being aimed towards his absence in the home, leaving you lonely wasn’t his intention. Deployments were picking up and Price seemed like he only had jobs that went on for months at a time. None of it’s an excuse to neglect his duties as a husband and he knows that. Knows that things need to change.

You register his apology as coherently as you can as he started to pick up the pace. Abandoning his soft and hard rhythm for simply hard strokes. Adopting that pace that he knows makes you weak everytime. Your slick was everywhere, embarrassingly so. His lower stomach and hips being wet from your pussy’s excitement. The freshly cleaned floor beneath you suffering a similar fate as you took his delicious pounding greedily. Your mouth slightly agape as you breath out of your mouth, your face tense with pleasure as moaned endlessly.

“Look at tha’, messy little pussy just keeps getting wetter n’ wetter. Feels like she missed me, did she?” he questions you as he continues his barbaric pace, shifting to lie over your back. The pressure of his chest to your back making you moan out as he ducks his face into your neck.

Reaching a muscular arm up and over your shoulder to brace himself on the floor.

“M-mm yes! S-she did. We missed you baby. I love you” you cry out in ecstasy as you take his strokes. The base of cock being wrapped in a ring of wetness and your mixed fluids. You could feel the heat radiating off of him as he lied so close to you. At your confession Simon uses his head to nudge you. Encouraging you to turn your face towards his. Simon places the most intoxicating kiss on your lips. His lips gliding seamlessly with your soft ones as he slips his tongue into your mouth.

You two engage in a soft tongue fight that makes you melt even further, your stomach getting butterflies as you feel closer to cumming. “Oh my god”, you whine into the kiss as you feel it.

You already knew it was going to be messy. “Gonna come for me? Gonna cum for your husband?”, Simon asks you softly as pulls his lips from yours. You nod feverishly as you moan out his name. Simon—knowing your body well—adjusts to place both hands on the floor over your shoulders. His forehead being pressed to the back of your head as he fucks you hard. “O-ooo I’m gonna s-squirt!” You moan nastily as you take his rough pounding.

“Cum on me, make it yours baby. Show me how ya take this dick for your man”, Simon groans behind you as he feels your already tight walls growing even tighter as your pussy pulses.

Your release makes you shiver, your forehead falling flat on the floorboard as you feel Simon fucking you through it. Him continuing his strokes and making you take it as you came. “Mm, perfect wife”, he encourages as he feels the liquid spurting from you pussy around him. Simon lifts an arm, using it to turn your head to the side as he gets closer to his orgasm.

“Look in my eyes, yeah?”, he says rushed as he gets closer. His stomach going taut behind you as he stops thrusting.

Your eyes meeting his as he cums in you, his hips stiff as his body freezes. Simon moans out your name loudly as he feels your pussy still pulsing around him. Loosing all of the tension in his body, Simon pulls out of you and lays flat on his back while pulling you to lie on top of him.

Silence ensues as you both lie peacefully on the floor. “Gonna ask for a paper pushing position” he says calmly as he breaths and rubs at your back.

You lie still as you hear his words.

“Are you sure?” You ask while growing sleepy—looks like you’ll be going for a quick nap on the floor.

“Not gonna lose you over this, you’re the most important thing t’ me”

[laceyfaeryy]

Hello, dear I absolutely love your Clark Kent x reader stuff!! I was wondering if you Do could one where the reader is metahuman of some kind! Basically I want a fan fiction where Clark was planning to hold back on the reader but then he realized he doesn't have to 😈

MDNI 18+

clark’s sex life was shameful to say the least, and not for the usual reasons.

it was because he was simply too big.

on multiple occasions many women had tapped out when realising just how big he was, often leaving him alone with his two hands to deal with the issue.

at first clark didn’t realise it was an issue, thinking it was normal to have a monster cock, until it wasn’t.

he gave up entirely on his sex life, knowing it was probably best to stay put until he finally found someone that was his equal, which was probably never given his last experience.

and oh how he was so damn wrong.

the moment he met you, a hidden vigilante that roamed the streets late at night.

“you know,” you panted, your hands against his large muscular chest as caged you in, “you’re rather touchy today.”

clark couldn’t stop kissing you, his lips gently nibbling your neck and then tugging your bottom lip, what you said to him didn’t even register.

“i just have needs.”

needs that he thought couldn’t be satisfied until he realised you were just like him.

a groan of satisfaction left his mouth when he fully entered you, your warm gummy walls clenching around him, accomodating to his size. many of the women who didn’t run away after seeing his size.

“you can take it,” he stared in awe of how your stomach bulged with every little movement. “i’m so deep,” his large hands gently squeezing your stomach, watching you whimper as you clenched around him again.

“you can take it,” he repeated as if he finally understood.

at first he moved slowly, as if he was still comprehending the fact that he didn’t have to hold back, that you can take him fully.

“clark,” you whined, arching your back as buried himself deep inside you, his mind mentally thinking about ways to fill your cunt and how to bend you in fifty different ways.

“you can do it.”

clark ploughed into you like nothing, the headboard thudding against the wall whilst the bedframe creaked. your saliva dribbled down the corner of your mouth as you moaned, almost seeing stars.

“come on,” clark grunted, his bushy brows furrowing as he tried his best to not come on the spot, wanting to drag this out as much as possible. “doing so well, so damn well.”

clark refused to get out of bed with you for the whole night, wanting to be deep inside your warm cunt even if the two of you were asleep.

[tokiiwonz]

YOU, ME, AND A HYPOTHETICAL BABY

in which jeno gets way too drunk on baby fever and can't stop imagining his boyfriend carrying his kid—even if it's impossible

content: 3.1k words, sub male reader, established relationship, masturbation (jeno), baby fever, unprotected sex, drunken sex, p in a, breeding kink, delusional!jeno, vivid imaginations of mpreg (fantasies about pregnancy, omfg), daddy kink, body worship-ish, heavy dirty talk, lemme know if i missed anything.

jeno’s usually all smiley and composed at public functions. his years of training made sure of that. that idol polish, the kind that keeps him smiling for cameras even when his jaw aches. most days, he doesn’t even think about it. it’s muscle memory by now and he’s doing a great job nailing it. fanservices, stable performances—he was flawless. on the outside at least.

it all started when the company floated a filler schedule. it wasn’t really heavy, but rather, something wholesome, easy, and ‘image-boosting’ for a good cause, for the group as well. a local children’s charity is hosting a mid-year fundraiser at a neighborhood community center. there’d be a few photographers, brief press mentions, and a short visit to the play areas. the group wouldn’t even have to perform. 

SM called it ‘PR’, but the dreamies saw it as a breath of fresh air. so when the message came through over breakfast, the group had already agreed before their coffees even cooled down.

–

as usual, the event went great. dreamies did their part; some more awkwardly than others. jaemin sat cross-legged across the room pretending to sip plastic tea from a dollhouse set. haechan had somehow acquired a cape and was “flying” a squealing boy across the room. while, renjun was in the middle of being hunted by foam-sword-wielding twins and losing spectacularly.

but it was you who caught jeno’s eyes. he stood under a mobile of paper clouds, arms crossed, back against the wall, taking a break from the noise. yet his gaze never left you. similar to how a hunter would watch its prey. he probably didn’t even realize how sharp his stare had gotten, but the longer he looked, the quieter he went.

you were magnetic, but not in the way you were on stage. this wasn’t charisma. this was something else. a capacity for care.

jeno saw how your body curled instinctively around the little girl dozing against your chest. the way your hands moved without hesitation. wiping, adjusting, and holding children like you’ve already done it before. and your bright smile shining at a toddler like nothing else in the world mattered, as if you were made to be needed.

he furrowed his brow without realizing it as a flicker of thought hit him.

you'd make such a good father.

–

that brought jeno at this moment, wide awake on his bed, and couldn’t sleep. his sheets were too warm, and his pillows were stiffer than usual, but none of that was why he was restless. it was you.

you, earlier that day, seated on the corner of the daycare with children around you like they were born to fit there. the way you held one little girl with one hand supporting her tiny back and the other smoothing her flyaway hairs, humming some tune you probably made up on the spot. she stopped crying after thirty seconds. thirty fucking seconds. he thought maybe you were some kind of child whisperer, and then you fed her, cooed at her, even laughed when she tried to grab your lip while burbling nonsense.

he saw your face softened as she blinked up at you, carrying her like she wasn’t heavy or loud or fussy. she was precious. how you calmed her down by saying something dumb and sweet, “you sleepy, tiny human, huh? yeah, i get it. tell me about it later.” as if the two of you were having a deep conversation, and she giggled. letting out this full-bellied little laugh and smacked your chest with her chubby fist.

and hours later, jeno was hard as fuck under the covers, fist curled around his cock, teeth gritted to keep himself quiet as imaginations looped in his head.

not just you holding a baby. you holding his baby.

you wearing nothing but one of his oversized shirts, hair messy, and a sleepy look in your eyes as you bounced a fussy newborn on your shoulder. your voice is soft, and gentle. you’d rock her gently, whisper, “shh, daddy’s sleeping. let’s not wake him up.”

but jeno wouldn’t be asleep.

he’d be on the bed, sheets pushed down, hard and already leaking just watching you sway barefoot in the middle of the room. he’d drag his eyes down your thighs, the slight curve of your ass outlined beneath the fabric, and he’d growl, “put the baby down. come here.”

fuck. jeno bit his lip, hips lifting off the bed as his grip tightened. his mind blurred between reality and his delusions. you’d whisper back, smirking, “she just fell asleep…”

“i don’t give a fuck,” he growl at his imagination. “put her in the crib now. i need you.”

he’d grab you the second you were close enough, push you down on the bed, right there next to your baby girl’s stuffed giraffe and baby monitor, and shove your thighs apart, while his mouth was hot at your neck.

“this is why i fuck you full every time, yeah? look at you. fucking made to be a dad.”

the wet sounds of him jerking himself off filled the room. he stroked over the tip, feeling precum slick his fingers, breathing ragged, and a layer of sweat dampening his chest.

“you were made to carry my babies,” he muttered aloud needily, “even if you fucking can’t— fuck—i don’t care. i’ll fuck you like you can. again. and again. until it sticks.”

he imagined you glowing and needy, wearing nothing but soft cotton briefs and an oversized shirt you always wore, walking toward him in the kitchen, saying you were craving something bizzare. he’d pin you to the counter, fuck you right there, with his hand on your stomach, “so fucking full of me. god, look at you.”

his cock twitched hard in his fist, letting out a shaky breath, sweat dripping down his neck, while his knuckles turned white from how tight he was gripping his cock.

“you’d be the best fucking dad,” he murmured, clenching his teeth. “the way you hold her—fuck—you were made to be bred.” his balls tightened. the image of you, flushed and panting, moaning his name as he spilled inside you for the third time that night flashed in his brain. and that was it.

he came with a rough groan, cum painting his stomach, the sheets, anywhere, really, his hand couldn’t catch. his thighs trembled, breath stuttering in his chest, squeezing his eyes shut, and riding out the filth of his baby fever.

he didn’t move for a while. just lay there, chest rising and falling, brain still swimming in the images of you cradling a baby, moaning under him, mouth whispering “jeno, give me more.”

and when his breath evened out, the last thing he said before sleep finally came was muttered into the dark. “i don’t care if i can’t get you pregnant. we’ll just have to try and try again. i’ll fuck you like i can anyway.”

–

jeno thought maybe blowing a load last night would clear his head, but it didn't. if anything, it just made the image in his head worse. all day, he caught himself looking at you, still a little too long. the way you were bent over the couch arm to grab the remote. humming softly while scrolling your phone. your hair sticking to your neck after a shower. stupid shit that shouldn’t have turned him on but it still did. 

he was across the kitchen when you leaned over the kitchen counter in a thin shirt, laughing at something jaemin joked about kids.

“bet you’d be the strict one,” jaemin said, poking at the fruit bowl. “the dad with all the rules.”

you snorted. “nah. i’d be the one they run to when they get in trouble. spoil them rotten, then pretend i didn’t.”

“that’s worse,” jaemin laughed. “you’d have a house full of sugar-high toddlers.”

you just shrugged. “better than them being scared of me.”

jeno didn’t hear the rest. just that word—dad—and it was enough to flip something in him. that night, it felt like his skin didn’t fit.

–

it was late when he stumbled into your room, reeking of whiskey mark had pushed him to drink earlier, thinking it’d take the edge off. but the burn only settled deeper into his skin.

you were already there, the light of your bedside lamp casting warm shadows. jeno barely registered how you looked, just his eyes flickering up to meet yours before his knees buckled, and collapsed onto the bed. you sat up from where you were laying, looking concerned at your boyfriend who was fucking wrecked. “hyung…”

he didn’t even bother acting like he wasn't far enough gone to stop pretending he had self-control. “‘m sorry, baby… been thinking ‘bout you so much.. ‘bout having babies with you—” god, he was slurring.

and before you could even process his words, he was already on you. it wasn’t even really romantic. he just grabbed your face, kissed you hard, deep, wet while his tongue was already in your mouth before you could gasp.

his hands gripped under your thighs. he shoved your sweatpants and boxers down roughly, letting them fall around your thighs before hoisting you up like you weighed nothing, and straddled you on his lap, chest to chest.

you squirmed a little, trying to keep up, legs wrapping around his waist automatically as his hips rocked up against you. you could feel it. his cock was rock hard, grinding into your ass through layers of fabric, and leaking already.

“you jus’ don’t get it,” he muttered against your lips. “you don’t get it, hm?” you barely had time to respond before his hands slid under your shirt, palms splaying flat over your bare back, and he dragged you closer.

“you’re drunk—” you tried to speak, but it came out breathy, more of a moan.

“drunk on you,” he pecked your lips. “fucking waited all night—all fucking night to get home to this tight little hole and now you’re gonna tell me not now?”

“i see you with kids and i lose m’fucking mind,” he rasped. “i jerked off last night to the image of you holding that baby.”

“jeno—”

“i came so fucking hard just imagining you dripping,” he hissed, while his hands were sliding lower to grip your ass, “and stuffed full.”

you whimpered, and he just grinned. “fuck, you want that too, baby? ” then he slurred against your neck, “i think ya do..”

a gasp escaped your lips as he rolled his hips up, his cock grinding up against your ass through your clothes. “fuck,” you breathed, biting your lip.

“you’re gonna let me put it in raw, baby?” he murmured, mouth at your jaw now, licking and kissing down your neck. “please? really really wan’ it…”

he didn’t wait for an answer, he didn’t need one, because your body was already leaning into it, giving in to every word he was sputtering.

he hurriedly stripped himself off of his clothes, then spat into his palm and jerked his cock out. it was thick, veiny, and red at the tip, which slapped wet against his abdomen.

his hand tightened on your waist, fingers digging as he held you still. you hovered for a moment, breath catching, heat pooling low and slow. “sit,” he said, voice rough, “fucking sit on it, baby. let me fill you.”

you sank down slowly, both of you gasping as the stretch hit. he grabbed your waist tighter, helping you slide down inch by inch as his head dropped back when you fully sat down to the hilt. it was enough for his voice to crack.

it was a painful stretch. jeno’s always been big, and sure, you’ve already taken him a few times before, but the way he fucks you open always leaves your mouth hanging from how girthy he was.

you were about to moan when he cut you off with a rather desperate kiss. it’s not sweet. it’s every unsaid word he’s choked down all day, ever since he saw you cradle someone else’s kid. and he kisses you like he wants to make one with you. right here, right now.

you whimper into the kiss, back arching as jeno thrusts slow and low. his hands slide under your shirt, tracing your bare skin before he peels it off, all breath and heat.

“don’t think we can’t have one, please,” he murmurs, lips messing around your neck.

you breathe out, dizzy. “jeno…”

he bites—just enough to leave you gasping. “daddy—fuck, call me daddy—wanna be a daddy,”

“and don’t look at me like that, baby, please,” he continued hissing, “like we couldn’t try.”

“you’d take it so well, i know you would. you’re my good boy. see? you’re letting me fuck you slow. wanna fuck you over and over until you’re dripping.” he groaned as he pushed his cock even deeper. 

“you’d let me breed you, right?” he pants, voice low and desperate. “even if you can’t get pregnant. you’d let me pretend. you’d let me own your body like that.”

“say it,” he demanded, “say you want it.”

“i want it. i want you to—fuck—put a baby in me.” you clenched around him instinctively and he groaned, bucking up once

“shit—do that again and i’ll cum before i even get to knock you up,” his cock twitched violently inside you as he panted.

his arms wrapped around your waist, holding you there, full and pulsing around him as he bounced you, “you’re not getting off this cock,” he said roughly. “not until i’ve fucked a baby into you.”

he was so turned on. shamefully so that he just started carelessly thrusting up to you. the tip of his cock continues to hit that one soft spot inside of you, and it makes you so dizzy how jeno exactly knows how to leave your mind hanging by a thread.

your legs shaked as you rode him hard, body trembling and struggling to coherently think that the only thing you could do is take it. he buries his cock as deep as it goes, wraps his arms around your waist, and kisses your throat like you’re already carrying him. fuck, drunk jeno is just so delusional. 

“daddy needs to cum deep, baby—fuck—just in case, i have to—what if it doesn’t take,” he was panting as he thrusts upwards. his voice cracking as the head of his cock bullies that same spot that has you gripping your nails deeply onto his shoulders.

“daddy—i can’t—” you dazed as he yet again leaves another hickey on your throat.

“i know,” he breathes, eyes locked to yours. “but what if you could?”

and there it is. that fever-dream logic he’s been clinging to since yesterday.

your body’s too pretty like this, covered in sweat, legs trembling, lips parted as you whimper on his lap; your hole so slick and loose, and somehow—still—it flutters around him like it wants more. 

“i’ve wanted to say something since last night,” he confessed. “i kept telling myself it was stupid. we’re idols. you’re my bandmate. we’re not supposed to want that.” he shook his head slowly, lips brushing yours again. “but fuck—i want it. i want to see you carrying for me. to see your body all soft and swollen with my kid. i want to ruin you for anyone else.”

and he can’t stop himself. nope, not tonight.

your pulse thudded in your ears. he presses a hand to your stomach, palm flat, right where a baby would start if the world made any sense at all. his voice drops to a hush. “you’d look so beautiful like this. just imagine, baby—soft and warm, belly round. you’d glow for me. yeah? you wanna be a pretty little househusband?”

you moaned, delirious from how overstimulating it all was, and he thrusts deeper.

“imagine waking up swollen. sore. still dripping from the night before,” he murmurs. “and i’d do it again. i’d rub your back, kiss your stomach, then fuck another load into you before breakfast.”

your nails dig into his shoulders more. he’s still so hard and heavy deep inside you.

“you’d let me take care of you,” he coos, rocking up into you more, “wouldn’t you? you’d be my good boy—stay in bed all day while i work, rub your belly when you get achy. i’d bring you fruit. help you waddle to the shower.”

your breath catches. “fuck—please—”

“and when it kicks?” he grits, picking up his pace, “you’d grab my hand. make me feel it. tell me it’s ours.”

he wasn't just drunk from the whiskey anymore, if anything, he's more drunk on the image of you carrying his child. even if it's biologically impossible.

your skin sticks against his. your legs shake as orgasm sneaks up on you. it was unbearable and pulsing, your body desperate to cum even as it begs for mercy under jeno’s delusions.

jeno’s hips slam up into you—again, and again, and again—fucking you through the tremble in your thighs until his voice breaks entirely.

“i’ll try again,” he moans. “i don’t care how many times—i’ll do it all night.”

he kisses you hard, and then groans against your mouth. “i’m gonna cum inside you,” he pants. “gonna fill you up so deep, baby. just in case this time it works.”

“daddy—i can’t—!”

“yes, you fucking can, baby. you take it. ya always do, yeah?” he thrust so deep your back arched. “i thought of breeding you all night. you think i’m gonna stop now?”

you whined, tears streaking your cheeks as your cock throbbed untouched between your bodies. you could feel him hitting deep, every thrust smearing his precum against your walls. every snap of his hips sent heat pooling lower and lower.

“i’m close,” he gasped, voice shaking. “gonna cum in you. gonna knock you up so fucking good, baby. you want that? you want daddy’s drunk load in this sloppy little hole?”

“y-yes—yesyesyes—please, daddy, i want it, wanna be full—!”

he grunted hard, one last thrust slamming in deep and then he was cumming, cock throbbing wildly as he emptied hot, thick ropes inside you. he didn’t move, prolly didn’t even breathe. he just stayed buried to the hilt while you shook around him, his cum spilling out, sticky and warm along your walls.

you were twitching and sobbing, while your legs trembled around his waist. and jeno just held you there. his cock’s still hard, panting against your ear, drunk and glowing, “my good boy… always so good for daddy.” he panted as he laid you on your back.

“one more round please? wanna make sure you’re full—” he grunted, pressing and folding you into a mating press. you whimpered softly, and just clung to him. there was no way his cravings wouldn't be satisfied when this night ends. not by a long shot.

[murdock-slvt]

MDNI 17+ 𝐪𝐮𝐢𝐜𝐤𝐢𝐞𝐬 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐧𝐞𝐜𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐚𝐫𝐲 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐝𝐢𝐜𝐤!

𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: explicit sexual content. rough sex. quickies. unprotected sex. hair pulling (dick! receiving). big dick! dick grayson. cockdrunk! reader. dick’s nightwing costume is a two piece for easier access. dick loves his favorite girl.

[ 12:32 a.m. ] you: can you come over?

[ 12:36 a.m. ] dick: baby, I really wish I could. but i’m on patrol and the big man will kill me if I leave again

[ 12:38 a.m. ] you: please? my pussy misses you

that’s all dick needs to leave patrol.

it was really that easy to get him worked up.

sure, bruce will be on his ass for leaving his patrol early, for leaving his station and possibly risking lives in the process but he’ll return to it— he promises it to himself. it will only be twenty minutes; five minutes to your place, ten to fuck, five to get back, easy and out. but a quickie with you? that he will never ever lose.

he runs and moves across the gotham’s rooftops like a man on a mission, not hearing any danger as he passes businesses and homes.

you were in your apartment, wearing nothing but one of your old shirts that definitely shouldn’t be worn out in public due to the desaturation of the original color because you washed it so much and just how oversized it was, rips on the sleeves and on the rib parts, and a pair of underwear. the same underwear dick just loves so much, the black fabric looks delicious on your skin. you knew this and dick knew this.

it took minutes from the moment you texted dick for him to show up on your apartment’s fire escape, his escrima sticks visible over his shoulders, his suit fitting perfectly on his body as the blue nightwing symbol shined beautifully in the midnight light.

a smile flashes across your face. fucking finally he shows up. you walk over to the window, using both of your hands to slide it up and allow the cold gotham wind to push into your apartment.

“took you long enough, bird boy.” you say as he steps into your apartment, easily standing above you as your hands slide down on the window to close it, his fingers finishing to lock it.

he hums, taking off his domino mask and putting it on the windowsill. “oh c’mon, five minutes wasn’t even that long!” he tries to defend himself, eyebrows furrowing as you walk away from him and he gets a single glimpse of that ass of yours in those underwear.

“well five minutes is too long for my pussy to handle apparently.” you shoot back, the back of your shirt riding up a little to show the waistband of the underwear and to reveal the lower of your back that you know he loves to press on, either when he’s walking with you through crowds or when you’re in doggy style.

you’re trying to kill him, at least he believes. “baby…” he murmurs, his voice so faint he couldn’t believe it but you heard it. of course you heard it.

your head looks behind your left shoulder, watching how his mouth hangs open a little, the material of his gloves squish together as he balls his fists, how the breath in his throat catches. you stand by the couch, hands on your hips. “dick, it’s just underwear.” you tease.

jesus. “baby, it ain’t just underwear.” he says, his boots shuffling against your apartment floor, his steps echoing through the space. “it’s the same underwear you know I like… you’re wearing it knowing what it gets out of me… like you’re teasing me about it…”

you pretend to think for a second, biting on your thumb as you look up at the roof. “if the shoe fits, handsome.” you simply put, a smirk on your face.

dick’s breath hitch, and his hands go to his belt, gripping them to soothe himself before he goes over the edge… and you certainly don’t help him at all.

“I only have ten minutes, love.” he murmurs.

you put your thumbs into the underwear you’re wearing, pulling them down and letting them drop to the floor. “well you better get on it, dick.”

it didn’t take moments for dick to walk across the room. his hands bracket against your hips and he presses his lips down onto yours, his lips warm against yours. you murmur against his lips, lifting your arms and wrapping them around his neck.

dick wrapped his arms around you, lifting you up, your underwear staying on the floor as he carried you over to your couch. he can so easily pick you up, it’s intoxicating, the fabric of his suit rubbing up against your bare skin as his lips continues to kiss yours, tongues touching as his tongue licks across your bottom teeth.

you grin against his lips before your lips kiss his again, he’s desperate and you can tell, it’s delicious. as you touch his armor. you hate how you can’t feel his skin, but you knew this was only a quickie. your back hits the couch, your fingers tangling in his black hair as his lips move down from your lips, a line of spit keeping you two attached. his tongue licked up the line of spit, swallowing it down his throat as he places kisses on your jaw.

“god damn it, baby… you’re irresistible y’know… you make me feel fucking insane.” he groans, grabbing your legs by your ankles and throwing them onto his armored shoulder pads.

you moan as your legs automatically spread due to your legs being on his shoulders, your hands mindlessly moving your shirt up a little. like you know what he wants to see. “c’mon dick… put your dick in me…” you beg.

after dick moved your legs onto his shoulders and he heard your moan? he didn’t want to waste more time. he shoved off his gloves and threw them onto the coffee table where his escrima sticks also sat. boots were shoving themselves into the couch, knees dug deep as he stuffs his hands down his

“f-fuck…” you whimper out, his thick cock stretching your walls out with such ease. it helps that he’s done it so many times before.

he grinned at watching you react to each inch being pushed into your pussy. he groans as you greedily suck him in. his right hand goes to the back of the couch, holding himself up as his left hand goes down to your abdomen, brushing up and down on your skin. “look at that… taking me so damn good, such a greedy girl.” he groans.

your legs lock around his waist, heels digging into the back of his thick thighs as he’s buried at the hilt, out of breath. “d-dick…”

“yeah baby? that’s what you got in ya.” he chuckles, his tip kissing against your g-spot. he’s breathless as you clamp around him again, nails digging into the back of your couch.

“fuck you.” you mutter as you rock against his cock, wanting more of the delicious friction you’ve been chasing since you texted him. “please dick… fuck me.”

with a smile, he pulls out, you whimper but you don’t need to wait long before he thrusts back in, forcing your walls to open up as he thrusts into you. moving his left hand to grip the couch cushions under you, his hips slowly begin to revolve, in and out.

his thrusts were long, deep— it was unfair to your pussy. each thrust knocked the breath out of you, making your eyes roll back. your hands shoot up to the back of his hair, thumbs on his cheeks and the other four fingers in his black hair.

“d-dick! fuc- fuck!” you moan out loudly, your moans filling up the apartment alongside the wet sounds of his cock and your pussy. his balls slap against your cunt with each long thrust.

he leans down, pressing a kiss on your lips. you felt it but feeling his cock, you couldn’t kiss him back. “look at you, pretty girl…” he mutters, pressing a kiss on the corner of your mouth, it’s sweet compared to the filthy rutting of his hips. “so cockdrunk already, it’s unbelievable.”

you shake your head. “…’m not cockdrunk, ‘m not.” you try to argue, curling your toes with each thrust. but you can’t even form a sentence.

“it’s adorable, you can’t even say full sentences.” he coos, beginning to ram his hips faster, your walls barely being able to clench around him anymore. “you’re so cockdrunk, baby, just admit it. it’s alright to be cockdrunk, it means I’m doing my job properly.” he murmurs.

your fingers pull dick’s hair as you find yourself closer and closer to the edge of your orgasm. he can tell you’re on the edge just by the way your thighs shake around his hips, the way your heels dug into his ass.

the tip of his cock brushes against your cervix as he straightens out his back, looking to his right and grabbing your right leg, lifting it and putting it on his shoulder, kissing your right ankle. he moves his right hand down, bringing his fingers around your calf. you whimper as he kisses your ankle again.

“such a gorgeous body.” he murmurs, his hips never sputtering. “if bruce wasn’t on my ass about leaving patrol early, trust me baby, I’d be in this pussy all night.”

you groan at his words, tears beginning to prick from your eyes as you find yourself pushing closer to the edge. you can’t hold it for much longer. “fuckkkkk, dick! dick! please, I’m gonna cum.” you beg for him, he sees your toes curl with each thrust. one leg on his shoulder, the other on his hip.

he tilts his head. “you’re going to cum?” he questions, acting as if he didn’t hear you beg literally seconds ago.

you nod quickly, bringing your right hand down to your clit and rubbing tight circles in your folds as your back arches. both your hand and dick’s cock is so quick to make you cum, and he doesn’t even try to stop you from cumming, he just wants to make sure he makes you cum.

“sweetheart… don’t do that…” dick brings his right hand down, laying on top of your hand to rub circles on your pussy, going faster than your hand. “there you go… let me make you cum, drench my shit, baby.”

you didn’t need to be told twice. with one more shout of his name and a creak on the couch, dick is able to make you cum. your eyes roll back, toes curled harshly as your puffy pussy convulse around his cock, clamping down. he groans at feeling your pussy all over you, his eyes watching you like a damn hawk.

your vision comes back to you, slowly but surely as you feel your overstimulation hit you harder. your hand not moving on your clit anymore as your toes uncurl, fingers relaxing in dick’s hair.

when he feels your hand go limp against your pussy, he takes his hand off it. he lifts his hand and pushes a few strands back off your forehead, taking in your gorgeous face, high off of an orgasm.

you’re still catching your breath, pussy overstimulated as your left leg unlock against his hip and lazily slipping onto the couch, your right leg following. your fingers stay in his messy hair. “d-dick…”

“shhh, it’s alright sweetheart, I’m right behind you.” he leans down, and with a few more thrusts, he reaches his own peak. he groans out your name as his cock strains, beginning to shoot hot, thick ropes of cum straight into your womb. your back arches as soon as you feel the warmth enter your system, fingers pulling at his hair, feeling the fabric of his suit burn against your thighs.

he empties his balls, sighing heavily. his cock strained in overstimulation. he looks at you as you look at him, a cockdrunken smile spreading across your face as you lean up, pressing a kiss on his jaw.

“you think you made it to ten minutes?” you ask him, cheeks flushed due to not only the newly addition to his sticky semen in your pussy but also his body weight on you.

he shrugs, pressing a kiss onto your cheek as he gently moves his hips, pushing out of you and feeling his limp dick hang loose. “I think I made it work.”

you giggle, letting go of his hair as he leans up on his knees, stuffing his cock back into his suit, not caring about the mess. he grabs a napkin off of your coffee table and presses it against your sensitive skin. you hiss but you let him clean off your thighs from his cum that’s trickling out of you.

a frown appears on your face as you know he’ll have to go. “will you be back?”

“of course!” he says, putting the napkin on the table as he grabs his gloves, sliding them back on and sliding his escrima sticks back onto his back. “I’d never leave my baby alone for one night…”

you smile at him, watching him shove his boots back on. you try to stand up, but your legs? don’t let you. “good… because my bed is empty… too often.”

he glared at you with those words. you’re trying to drag him back in, ignore patrol and spend all night with him… and if bruce didn’t give him a verbal threat two weeks ago last time you dragged him into the bedroom during patrol and he didn’t go back? he’d be in your sheets by now.

he walks over to the windowsill and grabs his domino mask, putting it back on as his fingers slide up the window and prepares to jump out and go back on patrol… but then you call out to him.

“no goodbye kiss?” you ask, putting your chin on your hand which is on the back of the couch.

dick looks up at the roof, a smile spreading across his face as he quickly walks back to you. he puts one hand on the couch as he leans down, pressing a kiss onto your lips.

you smile against his lips. he tasted so nice. so damn good.

“that better, baby?” he asks, pulling back.

you nod. “go get ‘em, handsome.” you encourage, smacking the symbol on his chest.

he walks backwards as he lifts his right hand, saluting you. “yes, ma’am.” he says with a faux soldier tone.

you giggle and before you knew it, he shut the apartment window and went back on patrol. he’d return, you knew he would and your pussy can wait.

meow. he’s so delicious, I want to get him pregnant, and I want him to get me pregnant. okay, back to our regular clois smut!

✦ comments and reblogs are always appreciated! ✦

@murdock-slvt 2025!

[my-castles-crumbling]

dark - august 16 - jegulus - trans!Regulus - cw:dysphoria - @taylorswiftmicrofic - word count: 334

“Hold on,” Regulus mumbled, pulling away from James’s soft kiss to feel around on the bedside table for his wand. 

Obediently, James sat back, focusing instead on the process of ridding himself of his own clothing just as he had done to Regulus moments before. But as soon as he noticed what Regulus was doing, he stilled. “Why d’you always do that?” he asked quietly, chin jutting out to where Regulus clutched at the thin piece of wood.

Regulus, who was just about to perform a charm to turn the lights off and plunge them into darkness, paused, heart skipping a beat. “Wh-what?” he asked, though he knew exactly what the other man was on about.

“You always turn the lights off,” the taller man observed, expression honest and nonjudgemental. “Why?”

He bit at his lip. How was he supposed to explain the way his stomach turned at the mere thought of James seeing something that he might not like. How was he supposed to articulate that, some days, looking down at the body he hated made him sick…so sick he gagged with it sometimes? Really, he didn’t understand why someone like James could possibly want this with him, and the darkness…it helped him imagine that he was someone else. Someone worthy. “It…helps,” he sighed, pressing his lips together. “Like…I can forget. At least, a little.”

The startled, sad look in the taller man’s eyes made Regulus think, just for a moment, that maybe James didn’t feel the same way he did. Of course, the dysphoric self-consciousness bled in and returned, but there was a split-second of hope. “Whatever you’re comfortable with,” James said with a reassuring smile, reaching over to touch the hand clutching the wand. “But just so you know…I adore your body. Just as it is.”

He nodded.

They still turned the lights off that night. And the next time. And the time after that. But eventually…they didn’t. And when they didn’t…James was even more worshipful than he had been before.

[wele-fy-sbwriel]

#after all these years it was batman holding alfred back from just rolling up to arkham with an AK #edit: actually just thinking more about Alfred pennyworth since all this rewatching is going on #and…what a fucken wild character. what a wild life to live what a PAINFUL life to live #like…imagine you’re [NAME REDACTED] who worked for some [UNFATHOMABLY BADASS PENNYWORTH BACKSTORY] in your heyday #but now your name is Alfred pennyworth and you’re a BUTLER of all things for a rich couple named Thomas and Martha #and maybe you’re a little in love but unfortunately House Wayne was founded over the hellmouth that is Gotham #so the rich couple is killed in the street and now you’re the guardian of their very young and struggling son #and this child becomes your life. your WHOLE LIFE #this child is a genius the likes of which you have never really met but also strange and wounded and twisted up in a way you can never fix #and this child grows into a man and decides he is going to spend HIS life throwing himself between his hellmouth city #and whatever citizens he can manage to save with his brain and his body and all the privileges his House can give him #and you just have to stand there and watch your son - bc he IS your son. in every way that matters - make these choices #you HELP HIM DO IT bc you CAN. you are actually very good at it #being both experienced in what agents in the field might need as support and. ya know. his FATHER #WHAT IM TRYING TO SAY IS: imagine you are the handler for the most skilled field agent you have ever seen #and you have to keep sending this field agent out night after night on an unwinnable mission for the rest of both your lives #except the field agent is also your employer but most of all he is your child and you just have to COPE with that #anyway. Alfred pennyworth is the least hinged of the batfamily and absolutely devoted to them all and God’s Perfect Enabler #and if you think about him for five seconds it just gets very uh. yeah. (takiki16)

“Bruce doesn’t know how to cook” “Bruce doesn’t make his own bed” have you considered the possibility that Bruce knows how to do all of those things but lets Alfred do them anyway because if he doesn’t, the whole Manor falls apart?

Bruce lets Alfred make the bed because after the close call with Killer Croc last night it’s either crisp folded sheets pressed to perfection OR Alfred goes deep into the Gotham sewers with a rifle, a belt of flash-bangs, and 30 years of unresolved overprotectiveness.

let the man cook. literally, please let him cook something.

[yonomori-rei]

I don't know if you get a request, but if bsd men had a baby fever??? [They finally achieve their goals😅(I'm talking about dazai, Fyodor and Chūya or something😭)]

BABY FEVER (Headcanons + scenarios for DAZAI, CHUUYA and FYODOR) A/N: Don’t worry, I didn’t disappear this time. Awfully sorry for how long it took, and I'm still not happy with how it turned out. But oh well, I hope you all enjoy!!! (and I think this is the first time I wrote for Fyodor...and I may have gone off on a slight religious tandem) Genre: Smut, kinda fluff in headcanons? Content warning: swearing, p in v sex, overstimulation, breeding Synopsis: After they see you interact with kids, they notice just how motherly you are…and have this overwhelming urge to breed you. Headcanons are sfw, but scenarios are…more spicy 

Dazai:

You both see a lost child in a mall

You and Dazai were just ambling around the mall (more like Dazai had dragged you along with him because he was “overworking” himself at the agency and he apparently needed a break)

Of course you had relented, because let's be real, there is no way you’re getting any work done with an overgrown panda clinging onto you and annoying the hell outta you (but he’s your overgrown panda so it's fine)

So, you’ve done some shopping, and forced Dazai to carry your bags cuz if he dragged you to go shopping, you’re totally forcing him to do at least this for you (good, you should make that lazy bastard do some work)

But then, just when you were about to leave, you hear sniffling noises

You turn and see this cute, little one wiping away their tears, but they just can't stop crying

Slowly, you approach the child whilst Dazai just stares – he couldn’t care less about this kid who was wasting his alone time with his darling Belladonna

But when Dazai sees how you coo so lovingly, and cradle the child in your arms, instantly calming them down with minimal effort, it's as if some imaginary switch was flipped on inside Dazai

Would you act like this if it were his child?

He couldn’t believe how he didn’t notice before how nurturing, how motherly, you were before

Now, he wanted to see you like this more – to see how you would act with your belly swollen with his child, or how you would tenderly rock a baby that resembled his and your features in your arms

Perhaps he’d have to do something tonight to make this dream a reality...

Scenario:

“F-fuck Osamuuuu...slow down!”

Your desperate plea is ignored by the man who has you in a mating press, thick cock stretching you until you feel a tickling pain behind the numbing pleasure, but who were you to complain? Dazai’s soft pants in your ear are driving you crazy with desire as his hips continue to move at an inhumane pace, and you swear with how impossibly deep he’s attempting to stuff himself inside you, you can feel him in your throat, stealing your broken breaths. Tears rake its way down your cheeks, as you claw at his back desperately.

“P-please! Ugh...t-too much!”

You don’t know what’s gotten into him, with how he’s been fucking you non-stop for well over half the night, no breaks and no checks. He’s stuck in his own world, desperate, desperate for something that you have yet to find out.

“P-please bella’, shit, please...one more...promise...aah.”

It's what he’s been saying for the majority of the night, but if the creamy ring around the base of his cock didn’t signify how many times he’s begged one more, then I don’t know what will. You can feel him everywhere, his cock thrusting again and again until your pussy is filled to the brim, both your juices starting to leak out due to the sheer number of times Dazai has cummed in you now. 

But he still doesn’t stop.

Euphoria hits you like a drug, mind going blank as your eyes roll back, your cunt spasming rhythmically around Dazai and you cry out from the overstimulation. But your bandaged lover merely keeps going, whimpering pathetically against your neck as he’s spitting out half-formed sentences,

“G-gonna cum...be a good girl...take it all, yeah? Fuck, gonna...knock you up, my sweet ‘donna!”

Your eyes shoot open at his words, finally putting together his actions and intentions through the blissful haze. And hearing those words makes you cling more tightly to Dazai, unintentionally trying to pull him closer, and he laughs breathlessly in your ear as he whispers sensually,

“Oh my, you clenched real hard when I said I wanted to fuck a child in you...who knew my precious girl had a breeding kink.”

Each thrust is filled with raw power, feeling harder and deeper than before, and by now, all thoughts have flown out of your head, replaced by the intense pleasure only Dazai can give you. One, bandaged hand slithers down your body to your clit, rubbing it in tight circles until your scream in pleasure, intensified by the warm feeling of Dazai’s cum filling you up once more. Finally, you come down from your high, but as your body relaxes, you notice the brunet’s wicked smirk. And you feel the delicious dread course through your body as he utters one word.

“Again.” 

Chuuya:

You’re a kindergarten teacher + he visits for the first time

You, my darling (Y/N), happen to be at work – teaching your small class of adorable angels – when your beloved husband’s head appears through one of the classroom’s windows

(How is he tall enough to reach?? XD jk)

You signal to our short king to wait 5 mins until your – and the kids – lunch break

5 agonising mins later, the small ones all toddle out and an impatient Chuu-chuu toddles in (sorry...not)

But just when you were about to kiss the husband who had left for a mission two weeks ago and had only returned now, a small cry of pain came from the back of the classroom

You push the mafioso away, and it's safe to say Chuuya is a bit miffed judging from the scowl/pout on his face

Chuuya watches as you expertly take the child in your arms and cradle them reassuringly, asking them what the matter was

And suddenly, your gentle voice fades into the background as Chuuya feels his pants tighten

Fuck, Chuuya doesn’t think he’s seen anything that’s as hot as his wife comforting this child like she’s been doing it all her life

But you know what would be hotter? If it were their child – if you had been consoling his child in your arms like that

And Chuuya knew that if he stayed even a second longer in that stuffy classroom with you and your soft smile, he’d pounce on you right there and then and never let go until he knew his child has been brought into existence

Muttering a quick excuse about needing to go to the PM HQ, he successfully escaped, leaving you confused about his sudden change in demeanour

Don’t worry, my dear, you’ll understand soon enough...

Scenario:

You had barely walked through the door when a ginger slammed you against the wall and growled out,

“Do you know how much I’ve wanted you since I saw you earlier today?”

And you figured he’s acting like this because of his mission, but you’re proven long pretty quickly when:

“Chuuya, please! W-wait...aaaaah!”

Your nth orgasm of the night causes you cunt to spasm uncontrollably around Chuuya’s fat cock, as you gasp at the sheer intensity, pleasure consuming you. But Chuuya still doesn’t stop, if anything, he speeds up even more. Usually he’d be done by now, preferring to spend the rest of the night cuddling and talking. But not today, not whilst his cock is effortlessly bullying your eager hole as he tightens his grip and angles his hips perfectly to hit that sweet spot to make you see stars.

“C-chuuya! Ungh..what’s the...what’s the matter?”

His blue eyes hold you captive to his gaze, as he whispers against your soft skin,

“Gonna make you the mother of my kids, my queen.”

And the way you whine at his words, revealing your desire to be bred by him, was all the consent he needed to get rougher. Chuuya lost control at the desperate gaze in your eyes and began to fuck into you with abandon once more, lewd noises filling the air.

“C-chuu-aah!”

Your pornographic moan makes Chuuya swell even more in your hot cunt, as the plap sound grew louder and faster. Chuuya’s dick hits all the right spots, drawing you closer to the inevitable edge, and your whimpers reach a beautiful crescendo as pure pleasure courses through your body, stars exploding behind your eyelids. Your pussy clenches around the thick meat inside you, and Chuuya groans against your neck as his seed spills, painting your insides white, marking you, claiming you.

“Shit (Y/N), that’s it, baby...yesss. Gonna see your tummy swollen with my kids.”

You chuckle weakly, delirious from the stuffed feeling, and you move to get up, wincing when Chuuya slides out. Your cheeks turn crimson at the feeling of his cum erotically leaking out, but suddenly, you feel a muscular hand push you down, and two fingers scoop the semen from your entrance, pushing it back into your sore pussy. Chuuya offers you a raunchy smirk as he whispers darkly,

“Neither of us are going anywhere until I knock you up for sure.”

Fyodor:

Kids running around in casino

Fyodor was usually a very calm man – someone that many people though had infinite patience – because he rarely, if ever showed his emotions

But that was not the case today where these kids in the casino were running around wildly – disrupting the poor man’s careful planning

The only thing that’s holding him back from getting rid of all those kids forever is his beloved (Y/N)

There was no way he’d bash in the skulls of infants whilst his soft lover is nearby – oh no, he’d need to maintain his façade of a man with some sort of virtue

But you being the perfect, observant person you are, immediately notice your Fyodor’s patience coming to a dangerous end, and so you quickly whisk away the child that would have become the Russian rat’s victim

Fyodor’s gaze follows you as you clap your hands to grab the attention of all the kids, and with a cheerful demeanour and encouraging smile, manage to distract them enough to keep them from disturbing Fyodor

But Fyodor was now distracted by his lover, who was easily keeping the kids company, and he couldn’t help but wonder if you’re this good at calming down brats, you’d be a great mother to his children

Those amethyst eyes darken with lust, finally planning his next moves but it had nothing to do with taking over the world

Scenario:

(myshka = mouse) – a personal fav nickname of mine teehee

You’ve never seen Fyodor’s predatory eyes glean with such filthy desire before. A man of God, who vowed to rid the world of sin, but isn’t such unfiltered lust, sin too? And like the deity he says he is, he reads your mind perfectly and answers your unasked question,

“Silly girl, God cannot sin.”

He stalks towards you, all graceful and elegant and you scamper backwards until you hit the bed. But Fyodor doesn’t stop advancing, not until he’s looming over you with a predatory smirk. And it only takes a few more seconds before both your clothes come off, and even hours later, both your bodies remain unclothed.

Fyodor and you were both too busy wrapped in each other. Squelching noises filled the air, and his condescending voice only made your cheeks grow hotter, and your pussy wetter. Fyodor’s cock hits your sweet spot with an uncanny precision that had your back arching and eyes rolling back in pleasure, desperate mewls tumbling out of your mouth.

“Fedyaaa! O-oh, God!”

“Yes...call for your God.”

He’s struggling to keep his groans of pleasure as lazy amethyst eyes lock with your own, but the arrogance in his face is unmistakeable. At least Fyodor had some illusion of control but you? You were fucking ruined by the man on top, tears of ecstasy dripping down your face as your face stretched in a permanent ahegao, only the thought of your God filling your head. 

Lithe fingers pinch the pearl between your legs cruelly, a sadistic smile lighting Fyodor’s face at your desperate cry for mercy, but just like the last few times, he simply ignores you, letting you ride out the burning pain of your orgasm. Finally, it seems as if the torture ended when Fyodor releases your shaking legs, and you tremble as you sit up on the bed in between gasps for breath. You feel your cunt clench at the piercing glare he offers it, feeling the thick liquid drip out lewdly, but then his wicked eyes find yours, and the blood drains from your face at his next words,

“Oh myshka, how naïve of you to think we’re done here. After all, I have to make sure you’re truly pregnant with my child.”

[astelsakx]

everything in this show is symbolism and its driving me insane.

the choir performance is meant to represent societal norms/heteronormative standards and just a general sense of harmony and belonging. which neither yoshiki nor “hikaru” feel. the fact that the classes performance was kind of criticized by hara in previous episodes but the day that the two are gone they sing it perfectly. their duet in the end symbolizing not only them literally mixing together, but also their combined sense of isolation and otherness. its something they both share, yoshiki because of his queerness and “hikaru” because of his monstrous nature. the fact that the choir singing stops at “dear friend-“ when yoshiki stabs him. the fact that the phone lies on the ground with the screen cracked with the two characters on the sides. its all showing just how different the two are from everyone else but also their connection from that.

their positioning in this scene is also so interesting because there’s the obvious visual element of the light separating them at first and then dimming as both of them sacrifice something of themselves to be on even ground. but also the fact that “hikaru” is on the bed with his hand outstretched while yoshiki is on the floor on his knees, which to me looked like slight religious imagery/symbolism? (honestly just the vibe i got) that could also tie in with the set up of “hikaru” being the “god” that the people of the village used to worship (which is going to be a pretty hard come down after it’s revealed hes not) and even his reaction after yoshiki stabbed him i feel was implying his whole wish granting ability.

also this scene is so important and also an insane (in a good way) anime only addition because this is “hikaru” reacting to yoshiki’s wish for “hikaru” to kill him, rather than reacting to yoshiki wanting to kill him. in the manga the background words included things like “he hates me he dont need me no more!” but in this scene his breakdown is because of his promise to do anything yoshiki asked conflicting with his own feelings of not wanting to kill him. its a slight change but it also conveys a TOTALLY different internal conflict.

also in these scenes i love how it portrays yoshiki more as the “scary one”. just the parallels of “hikaru” making himself more human by tearing out a piece of himself while yoshiki succumbs more to the mixing by giving up a part of his human morals/humanity (literally the light going out from his eyes). and the tendrils engulfing him at the end could obviously symbolize them mixing but also like a projection of their fears maybe? the uncertainty of not knowing what “hikaru” is and that he is still potentially dangerous despite everything. i think it could also be a thing of him losing control of hikarus body because he just gave up a part of himself (he basically said as much in the manga so again foreshadowing?) ALSO the shot of him looking scared and then glitching out into his “half monster” form makes me think that maybe he also doesn’t want to find out what he is because doing so would just solidify the fact that he is different and not human. as of now both of them have tried to pretend that he is human because they could at least be together that way, but excepting that they are fundamentally different could break that (is this a reach? i dont know man i am losing it.) both of them are on a mutually self destructive collision course and i have no clue what will come out of it but its insane and making me feel things.

why cant the curtains just be blue for once /j

[sinscream]

Hola so… I disagree with the notion that Pomni was trying to blame him for the previous abstractions. I believe Jax THOUGHT that was what she was trying to say, but as we know, he’s not a reliable narrator lol. If anything, I think the reality is INFINITELY MORE TRAGIC.

Lemme run this back for context. Just because I’m… insane about this lmao. This was also my favorite part (besides Zooble quadruple-arming guns. And Abstragedy in general. I screamed multiple times this episode.) Also note this is long because pictures are big & my brain is foaming so read more if you care lmao

______

Ok so right into it. Pomni points out that Jax reached out to her first & that now he’s trying to dismiss it. To which he tries to gaslight her— (“You must be misremembering.”) Gatekeepers Grilsboss or something idk what twitter says I ain’t been on there since like 2019 lmao

At which point, she says this— she’s frustrated that he’s not being honest with her, so her wording is a bit sharp, but her situation is frustrating, to say the least. She thought she was getting somewhere. That Jax was slowly becoming more genuine around her, & he was. But now he’s shutting her out.

At which point, Jax responds how he usually does. Abrasively deflecting. He’s used to riling people up, so he’s not shaken by this jagged statement. Thick skin & all that. He has his usual body language. Flippant & uninterested, with a cheeky grin on his face as he says this:

Obviously still playing his self-defined “archetype”. It’s the one thing that makes him feel in control.

Pomni calls this behavior out directly— even with the mask he wears, she can read him like a book. Pomni’s no fool, despite her avatar. Jax reacts the same way. Again, I imagine Ragatha or Zooble has said something along the line of this, too. (Although I think they’d phrase it less succinctly than Pomni… in vastly differing ways lmao) Hence why he handles it so easily.

(Side note: I LOVVVEE THEIR POSES HERE YOU CAN FEEL THEIR EMOTIONS RJKHRKJRHKJRN *shakes them like a dog toy!!*)

Anyway— it’s only at THIS point that Pomni says the line.

Definitely NOT the greatest way in the world to pose it, but she’s a flawed character. If she meant to blame him for Kaufmo & “Ribbit”’s abstractions, then she’d have specifically brought it up at the funeral part. But instead, she brings it up RIGHT after calling him out for his horrible coping mechanisms. The “THIS” she’s referencing is much more Jax’s emotional suppression rather than his actions towards others.

In other words, she’s not saying it’s his fault Ribbit & Kaufmo abstracted— SHE’S WORRIED HE’S GONNA ABSTRACT IF HE KEEPS PUSHING PEOPLE AWAY. Kinger told her that making someone feel unwanted is the WORST thing you could do... but what happens when a person makes themselves feel unwanted?

Well, in a situation like this? It won’t matter what you say to them— they’ll only hear what they say to themselves inside. And so how does Jax respond to this? What does he say to himself inside?

(Side note: I’m curious as to what he means by ‘something that everyone else did too’. He blames the others, too… but why? Did something in specific happen? Ragatha mentioned something about “failing” the others too. I wonder if that’s related, but that might just be Ragatha hating herself in general. Also. I have reached the ten image limit. Anger.) >=(

…he blames himself for what happened— despite how he tries to fight it & rationalize against it, he can’t help but feel at fault. And he hates it, because isn’t that just so pathetic? They’re gone! He’s the funny one, but grieving over someone real is… not funny. He should just brush it off & move on! (That isn’t AT ALL right, but...)

Hence why he lashes out at Pomni immediately. And, well, Pomni, noticing that she’s inadvertently upset Jax, feels more inclined to apologize to him than correct him… because making it up to him is more important to her than being right. She wasn’t trying to hurt him or make him feel guilty at all! She just wants him to be open, to let himself be vulnerable with her as a friend.

Which makes the “what would you do if I abstracted tomorrow” question afterwards feel like even more of a gut punch. Jax saying that he’d forget her & move on? It’s bullshit, obviously. Pomni knows that too— all he’s been doing this whole conversation is trying to push her away, to make HER FORGET HIM… but even knowing that, her lips tremble as she says “Okay. Okay. I understand.”

It’s a horrible (translation: wonderfully angsty) callback to the second episode where she had a nightmare that she abstracted & everyone just… moved on. Forgot her, basically. She knows he doesn’t mean it, but it still hurts when he says it because it’s a real fear of hers. He notices this— how her hand trembles as it holds the gun, turned away from him, & he says “Geez. Ya can’t take a joke.” Once again, deflecting.

Then she starts fighting him, he refuses to fight back, she asks him why, & he pushes her away for the final time in the episode.

Except… NONE of his outbursts convince her. Not a single one of the horrible things he says can hide his reaction or even distract her from it. Jax can say he doesn’t care about Pomni ‘til the cows come home, but his actions speak infinitely louder. He REFUSED to seriously hurt her. She lets him go, but she doesn’t look frustrated anymore.

She still. Just looks. Worried. And oh, doesn’t she have every right to be? He almost abstracted in the bathroom immediately after!

Tldr: Pomni wasn’t trying to blame Jax, she was worried he was going to abstract. Funnybunny stays winning. Kind of, lmao. Y’all have good angst material in canon now! Yayy!!

In episode six of The Amazing Digital Circus — Jax gets too real!

In all seriousness, this was completely fantastic to watch. It was such a good depiction of self destructive behaviors and Michael Kovach was PHENOMENAL.

His instant reaction to pomni hugging him was super telling. He wants to get closer to her, his behaviors show that clearly, but he fears it as well.

His regret after the outburst is also extremely telling.

This did not go as planned. He did not expect to get so close to her and have to push her so suddenly away. He didn’t want to push her away, but felt in this moment that he needed to, at all costs.

As much as he wants everyone to believe his actions were planned, they were IMPULSIVE.

As insistent as he was on telling Pomni that he didn’t care, that it was stupid to think that he might, Pomni was right when she pointed out that Jax wasn’t fighting back. He DID care.

He never hurt Pomni for his own fun at any point in this episode. His actions directly contradict what he’s trying to make Pomni believe. He hurts the others, so she might believe him. But he didn’t want to hurt her. Not anymore. The only time he hurt her on purpose was when he felt like he needed to push her away. But otherwise? He has shown that he doesn’t see her as something to torment. Jax sees Pomni as an equal, a friend.

His words are hollow.

Even his reaction to Ragathas “accusing” him of making friends with Pomni was extreme. Initially his uncaring expression threw Ragatha off, but once she was eliminated you can see that this is the moment Jax realized he was going too far — far past even his own personal boundaries — in forming a bond with Pomni.

Jax was lying the whole time he tried to make Pomni believe he didn’t care. He used all his tricks. Deflected with jokes, brushed off the intensity of the situation, made fun of Pomnis attempts to befriend him, he even tried to make her push him away first with the traitor bit.

Actually, he seems to be obsessed with the whole bit thing, don’t you think? The archetypes.

He thinks that fitting into the role of the circus will help him survive.

As if trying to maintain humanity whilst being deprived of it causes abstraction.

So he picks the perfect role to extract himself of any sort of sincerity or responsibility.

The comedian.

He uses it as a shield even if it damages his relationship with Pomni. And he tries to use Pomni’s humorously chosen role to his advantage, to get her to leave.

Pomni’s prying would humanize him. He would be too open, too vulnerable, too human. He won’t be able to play his role anymore. Or use it to protect his sanity.

If he had nothing beneath his cruel exterior, he wouldn’t have to beg Pomni to stop looking.

Jax knows that if she keeps looking, if she helps him open up, if she pursues his friendship despite his protests, he WILL break, and he WILL show her who he really is. He can’t resist getting close with someone because he — like everybody else — needs a friend.

So he had to make her stop.

[bbywhitefox123]

MORE OF YOUNG CATH AND RAFE PLEASEEEEE IM BEGGINING YOU ON MY HANDS AND KNEES ILL EVEN BARK IF YOU WANT ME TO

Summary: hours after their hookup at detention, rafe (18) does everything in his power to hook up with cath (17) again.

Warnings: NSFW (smut), mouth on buldge trough the fabric, oral sex, penetrative sex, face fucking, backshots, messy sex, precum, cum, masturbation, exhibitionism, non-consent-adjacent teasing, power play, hair pulling, choking, name-calling

Masterlist

Rafe lay back on his bed, fist slick around his cock, jerking himself through the memory like he was replaying a highlight reel. Cath under the desk in detention—her lip gloss smudged on his dick, those pretty eyes looking up at him like she’d been born for it. She didn’t even gag, just swallowed him down until his thighs were tensed and his vision white‑hot. And when she swallowed his cum? Fuck. He’d nearly lost his mind.

Then he thought about how he bent her over that same desk, her skirt bunched around her waist, her panties useless around her knees. Her moans muffled against the wood, his name spilling out like a prayer.

Rafe groaned, stroking faster, the veins in his cock pulsing. He came hard, spilling across his stomach, chest heaving.

But when he grabbed his phone and saw nothing—no call, no text—his brows knit together. What the fuck? Every girl he’d ever touched blew up his phone. They always wanted more. Always wanted him. What, did he scribble the number wrong on that sheet? Or was Cath playing him? She could’ve at least hit him on Insta. He had seven hundred followers. There’s no way she wasn’t one of them or hadn’t already stalked his shit.

He cleaned himself off with a crumpled t‑shirt on the floor, tugged on sweats, padded downstairs for water.

And that’s when he caught it—movement near the door.

He flicked on the lights, and there was Sarah. His little sister froze like a deer in headlights, short dress riding high on her thighs, heels dangling from her fingers.

Rafe leaned against the wall, water bottle in hand, smirking. “The fuck do you think you’re doing?”

Sarah rolled her eyes like she’d practiced it in the mirror a thousand times. “Relax. I’m just going out.”

“Out where?” His tone snapped sharp, more interrogation than brotherly concern.

“Just… meeting some girl friends,” she hedged, tugging her hair over her shoulder.

But Rafe’s mind flicked back—he’d seen Cath with Sarah. More than once. Sarah with her stupid little friends, laughing on the couch or stealing wine from downstairs.

He straightened, grabbing his keys from the side table, lips curling into something dangerous. “You need a ride?”

Sarah blinked, brows shooting up. “Since when are you a doting brother?”

He just smirked, brushing past her to the door. “Since tonight.”

What he didn’t say: he wasn’t letting Cath get away with ignoring him. He was going to see her. Whether she wanted him or not.

Sarah slipped her heels on once they were outside, trying to move quiet like a thief. Rafe didn’t bother—he flicked the motion lights on, practically announcing them to the whole fucking house.

“Seriously?” Sarah hissed, glaring at him as she wobbled on the driveway.

Rafe just shrugged, unlocking the Jeep with a click, not even glancing at her. “What? Didn’t wanna trip on your ass in the dark. You’re welcome.”

She rolled her eyes so hard it was a miracle they didn’t get stuck. He smirked to himself, climbing in and firing up the engine, bass rumbling through the still night.

“Where?” he asked flatly, one hand draped on the wheel.

Sarah rattled off an address—one of those gated communities where every house looked like it had been copy‑pasted out of a catalog. Rafe knew the area. Rich brats trying too hard, but their daddies still kissed Ward’s ass.

As he pulled out of the driveway, he side‑eyed her. “So what’s with the heels? Thought you said it was just you and the girls.”

Sarah fussed with her dress, not looking at him. “We’re taking pictures, Rafe. You know—content? For Insta? Stop asking questions.”

He let out a low laugh, cruel at the edges. “Playing dress‑up at seventeen? Sounds real important. You know when I was your age, Dad had me—”

“God, you’re such an asshole.”

“Yeah, and yet here I am, driving your ass to this thing,” he shot back, smug. He drummed his fingers on the wheel, pretending disinterest, but he pressed anyway. “So who’s actually gonna be there? Just your little girlfriends?”

Sarah sighed, clearly annoyed, but finally started listing names—Amanda, some other girls he didn’t bother remembering—and then she said Cath.

Rafe’s jaw ticked, a flash of satisfaction sparking in his chest. Bingo.

He leaned back in his seat, lips tugging into a grin Sarah didn’t notice, his mind already shifting gears. So the little bitch was going to be there. Sitting pretty, pretending like she didn’t swallow his dick in detention, pretending like she didn’t walk around with his cum down her throat.

She hadn’t called. She hadn’t texted. But she was about to see him anyway. And this time, she wouldn’t get to ignore him.

The drive up to the gates was quiet, Sarah scrolling on her phone while Rafe drummed the wheel, smirk tugging at his lips. When they rolled to a stop, Sarah hopped out in her heels, tottering over to the little call box. Rafe leaned over in his seat, watching her through the windshield like he was watching a sitcom. She looked pissed the whole time, whisper‑yelling Amanda’s name into the speaker.

Finally, she climbed back in, slamming the door. “Dude’s new at his job,” she muttered, just as the gates creaked open.

Rafe pulled through slow, taking in the rows of cookie‑cutter mansions. “Jesus. Rich kids playhouse.”

“We live in a house twice this size, Rafe.”

“Yeah, but ours doesn’t look like it came out of a dentist’s waiting room.”

Sarah scoffed but didn’t answer. She directed him to Amanda’s house, and the second he rolled up to the curb, she was already unbuckling, shoving the door open.

And that’s when he killed the engine.

Sarah froze, turning to him suspiciously. “What are you doing?”

Rafe shrugged, casual. “Walking you to the door. What if some creep’s out here?”

Her brows shot up. “Since when do you care?”

“Since Dad would gut me if something happened to you,” he fired back smoothly, already climbing out. “Come on, hurry up. Don’t wanna get eaten alive by mosquitoes.”

Sarah muttered something under her breath but didn’t fight him, stomping up the walkway while he followed behind, lazy grin curling his lips.

She knocked once. Waited. Nothing.

Knocked again, louder. Still nothing.

“Wow. Stellar party,” Rafe mocked, voice dripping sarcasm. “Maybe they all died inside waiting for you to sneak out.”

“Shut up,” Sarah snapped, pulling out her phone. She dialed Amanda—ring, ring… voicemail. Sarah groaned, pressing the bell this time.

A few beats later, the door finally swung open.

And it wasn’t Amanda.

It was Cath.

Her flimsy silver top sparkled in the porch light, cut so low Rafe’s eyes went straight to her cleavage before he even realized he was staring. The shorts clung tight to her hips, slung so low he could see the jeweled strings of her thong peeking over the sides. His cock twitched, hardening instantly.

She looked like sin. And worse—she looked unbothered by him

“Sorry, babe, Amanda’s taking a piss,” Cath said, voice flat as she leaned forward to hug Sarah. She sounded put out, like even answering the door had ruined her night.

But mid‑hug, her gaze flickered to him—just for a second. Her eyes widened, then snapped away just as quickly, like touching fire.

Rafe’s chest tightened, brows knitting. She was really about to pretend like she didn’t know him?

Cath turned back, lips twisting. “Whatever. Let’s just get inside,” she muttered, clearly ready to shut the door in his face.

Rafe stepped forward, slipping his hand on the doorframe, smirking. “Relax. Just making sure my baby sister doesn’t get kidnapped at a girls’ night.” His eyes slid down her body, deliberately slow, heat in his gaze. “Didn’t realize you were part of the welcoming committee.”

Sarah groaned. “Oh my God, Rafe. Go home.”

But he didn’t move. Instead, he leaned in a little closer, smirk sharp as ever. “Can’t. Not till I know you’re in safe hands. And from the looks of it…” His eyes cut back to Cath, holding her wide‑eyed. “…you’ve got real steady hands.”

Sarah rolled her eyes so hard Rafe almost laughed. “Whatever, you’re so full of shit,” she muttered, brushing past him into the house.

Cath shut the door behind them, still not acknowledging him, like he was invisible. Like she hadn’t had her lips around his cock just hours ago.

He followed Sarah into the living room, watched her throw herself onto the couch between two girls. The three of them immediately huddled together, voices low but not low enough—Rafe caught the gist. Sarah was pissed at Topper, and the whole point of tonight was some revenge‑Insta post. Cute.

He tuned it out quick, because Cath was moving away from the door, and suddenly his focus sharpened again.

“So,” Rafe drawled, stepping in front of her, hand extended like he was meeting her for the first time. “I’m Sarah’s brother. Rafe. Since we’re pretending not to know each other.”

Cath’s eyes darted to his, then away fast. “I’m not pretending,” she mumbled, already slipping past him toward the kitchen. “Want anything from the kitchen?” she yelled over her shoulder at the girls.

Rafe smirked, following her. He knew damn well she hadn’t expected him here—her whole body screamed it. And the fact she was dodging? It only made him hungrier.

In the kitchen, she pulled open the fridge. He leaned against the counter like he owned the place, arms folded, watching her dig around.

“You didn’t call,” he said flatly, voice dropping lower.

She didn’t flinch, didn’t look at him, just kept rummaging. “What? You’ve been waiting by the phone?” she shot back, smirking.

His jaw flexed, eyes flicking to the counter beside him. A half‑eaten white cake sat there, one slice gone. Frosting scrawled across the top in messy letters spelled out WHORE. He furrowed his brows, staring at it. What the fuck did girls even do at these get‑togethers? Sit around eating insult‑cakes and plotting revenge?

He was still puzzling when Cath’s voice pulled him back.

“Didn’t know I was supposed to call,” she said, straighter this time, like she wanted it to sting.

Rafe tilted his head, grin curling dangerous. “Bullshit. You knew exactly what you were supposed to do.” He pushed off the counter, closing the space between them slow. “Girls like you don’t forget the number. Not after the way you came apart on that desk.”

Cath finally pulled a soda from the fridge, slamming the door shut with her hip. She cracked the can open, not even looking at him.

Rafe leaned against the island, watching her sip. “You know, I was starting to wonder if maybe you didn’t call ’cause you lost my number,” he drawled. “But then I remembered—you’ve never had a problem keeping up with numbers before. Pogue numbers especially.”

Her head snapped toward him, glare sharp. “Excuse me?”

He smirked, lazy and cruel. “Don’t play dumb. Whole island’s seen you with Maybank hanging around like a stray dog. What—you’re trying to pull the same shit you did on him to me? Won’t work, baby. ”

Cath let out a laugh—short, fake, sharp. “Wow. You sound so jealous. Didn’t think Rafe Cameron wasted his time worrying about pogues.” She tilted her head, eyes gleaming as she sipped again. “Or me.”

“Jealous?” Rafe scoffed, taking a step closer. “Cath, I don’t get jealous. Especially not over JJ fucking Maybank. Kid probably couldn’t last five minutes if you begged him.” His grin widened, cocky. “Bet he didn’t make you gag under a desk and swallow like a good girl, though. Right?”

Cath rolled her eyes, scoffing, “You’re disgusting.” She turned away, but he followed her, crowding just enough to make her aware of him.

“Mm. Maybe. But I’m right,” he taunted, leaning down so his breath brushed her ear. “You don’t forget the first time someone actually fucks you like you’re worth the mess.”

She smirked over her shoulder, bratty as ever. “Please. You think you’re the only guy that’s ever made me come?”

Rafe’s jaw ticked, but he didn’t break his grin. Instead, he reached out, plucked the soda right out of her hand, and took a slow sip. His eyes never left hers.

“Ans how many guys have you made come exactly?” he asked, voice low, mocking.

Cath laughed at that, head tilting back. “Until now?” She lifted her wrist and pretended to check a watch that wasn’t there. “A lot. I mean, I make them cum with just a text.”

Rafe smirked, leaning on the counter like he had all the time in the world. “And still you didn’t text me? Ouch. I’m hurt.”

Cath grinned, stepping closer just enough that she had to tilt her chin up at him. God, he was tall—tall, lean, broad in all the right places. She hated that she noticed, hated even more that he knew she noticed.

“Maybe I had something else in mind for you,” she teased, voice like sugar and venom all at once.

His brows shot up, but before he could answer, she spun on her heel.

And of course, she did it slow. Her hips swayed deliberately as she walked back into the living room, the curve of her ass in those tiny shorts begging him to look. Begging him to follow.

And Rafe? He looked.

Fuck, he looked.

Rafe followed after her, casual but deliberate, hands shoved into his pockets like he had every right to be there.

Amanda was sprawled across the couch, phone in hand, talking fast. “Cath, you pick the movie, okay? I gotta go check on Sarah—she’s upstairs with Laisie and Brianna, taking pictures.”

Cath furrowed her brows, pausing mid‑step. “Wait. I thought we were gonna take a few pics and then actually crash a party.”

Amanda barely looked up. “Change of plans. Sarah’s not in the mood—she just wants to piss off Topper with a post. That’s the vibe tonight.”

Cath rolled her eyes, annoyed, but before she could respond, Amanda turned and finally noticed Rafe standing in the doorway.

“Oh!” she blinked, clearly confused but quick to cover it with a smile. “Hey, Ray. You can hang with us if you want.”

Rafe flashed his easy grin, the one that never quite reached his eyes. “Appreciate it.”

Amanda nodded, distracted, and disappeared upstairs.

The second she was gone, Rafe shifted, eyes cutting toward Cath like a predator spotting an opening. He stepped closer, voice low, taunting.

“Or,” he drawled, leaning against the back of the couch, “you and me could actually crash a party. If that’s what you wanted.”

“My pussy’s that good, huh?” she smirked at him, flicking her gaze his way before turning her attention back to the TV. “Making you all chivalrous and shit.”

A part of Cath was still annoyed that Sarah had bolted on the plans—she’d spent time getting ready, outfit perfect, hair done, makeup sharp, all for what? To sit on Amanda’s couch and scroll Instagram? If she’d known she wasn’t leaving the house, she would’ve picked sweats.

But then again… she was glad she came like this. Because Rafe was here. And he was looking. Looking at her best.

“Chivalrous?” Rafe smirked, dropping onto the couch beside her. “Nah. I was just offering you a good time.”

She turned her head slowly, lips curling, eyes sparking with challenge. “Then we should move the convo to the master bedroom.”

“What’s wrong with the couch?” he asked smoothly, draping his arm over her shoulders like it belonged there. Cath bit down a smile, pretending not to notice the move. “Thought you liked the thrill of getting caught.”

Her heart beat faster, though she’d never let him see it. After detention, she hadn’t thought much of Rafe Cameron. At the time, she just wanted to have sex with him—test the waters, see what the hype was about. She hadn’t been interested in his number, or in detention leading to something else. After all, she had a boyfriend.

But right now? Right now she was interested in what Rafe Cameron had to offer.

“You think you have me all figured out because I sucked your dick under a desk?” she asked with a little chuckle, eyes glittering as she studied him.

Rafe just shrugged, smile lazy and cocky, that smirk of his saying more than any words. He thought she was just like the others.

Cath laughed at that, sharp and amused. Standing, she smoothed her shorts and tossed her hair over her shoulder. “I’m not that easy, Cameron.”

But before she could take a step, Rafe’s hand shot out. He gripped her wrist and tugged, pulling her down hard and smooth into his lap.

“Funny,” he murmured against her ear, his hand already sliding over the bare skin of her thigh, “you say that… while sitting right where I want you.”

Catherine smiled at him, slow and sly. God, he was way too confident. The kind of confidence that blinded him—so sure of himself he couldn’t even see her playing him. Making him chase.

Her weight settled on his lap, her thighs bracketing him, and instead of melting into it like most girls probably would’ve, she leaned back a little, her hands light on his shoulders as if she could slip away at any second.

“You’re so sure of yourself,” she teased, her smirk dripping with challenge. “Almost like you think I’m already yours.”

Rafe’s hand gripped her hip tighter, pulling her down against the hard line of his cock. He leaned in, lips brushing the shell of her ear.

“Not almost,” he said, low and arrogant. “Exactly.”

“Exactly?” she mocked, her tone dripping with arrogance as her eyes flicked down to the thick outline pressing against his sweats. Her lips curved, smug. “I think it’s me that got you. Not the other way around.”

Rafe arched a brow, jaw ticking, but before he could open his mouth, she rolled her hips slow against him. Slow enough to torture, nails dragging over the hard muscle of his arm like claws. His throat bobbed, jaw clenched as he swallowed back the groan clawing its way up his chest.

“You’re so fucking easy,” Cath laughed, peeling herself off his lap like she was done with him. Like he wasn’t even worth her time.

Her heels clicked softly as she stepped back, eyes dropping shamelessly to the wet outline straining against his grey sweats.

And Rafe? Rafe didn’t cover himself, didn’t hide. He spread his legs wider, palming himself rough, rubbing his cock over the fabric, shameless as ever. Stroking just enough for her to see the way his length strained against the cotton.

“C’mon,” he taunted, voice low, smug, filthy. “You can’t tell me it doesn’t turn you on. Knowing you get me hard in seconds. Maybe you should wrap those pretty lips around it and see how fast you can make me cum.”

Her laugh rang out, sharp and mean. “God, we just met. Buy me dinner first.”

But she was already sinking to her knees, nails grazing his thighs as she dropped between them, all attitude and no hesitation.

Rafe leaned back into the couch like a king, lips curling into that cocky smile, watching her. “Knew you’d get down there.”

Her hand ghosted over the thick length trapped in his sweats, teasing, stroking slow. She squeezed him through the fabric, and his head tipped back with a groan he couldn’t hold this time.

“Fuck, baby…” he muttered, looking down at her on her knees for him. “That smart mouth would look so much better full.”

She smirked, nails dragging over his thighs, chin tilting up to meet his eyes as she started working the outline of his cock with her palm.

Rafe’s hand tightened on the armrest, the veins in his forearm pulsing as he shifted, hips lifting just enough to give her what she wanted—an invitation.

“Pull ‘em down,” he commanded, voice low and rough, eyes dark with hunger and challenge.

Cath’s smirk deepened as she hooked her fingers under the waistband of his sweats, tugging them down slow, deliberate, making sure he felt every second.

Beneath the thin boxers, her fingers brushed over thick, swollen hardness that made her grin. “Damn,” she whispered, voice dripping with sarcasm and awe. “Forgot you were a big fucker, even hiding in those.”

Rafe shot her a cocky grin, leaning back. “You like what you see?”

Without a word, she slid up slightly, lips parting as she pressed featherlight kisses over the fabric covering him. Cath’s lips barely brushed the fabric as she flicked her tongue over the tip of his cock, her breath hot and slow against him. She could taste the salty tang of his precum seeping through the thin cotton, and she smirked—knowing she was already driving him wild.

Her mouth stayed wet, dragging slow, teasing over the outline like she was savoring every inch without actually giving in. The slickness made the fabric cling tighter, and she could feel how his cock throbbed against her tongue, begging for more.

Cath hummed low in her throat like she was tasting something sweet, her tongue tracing him from base to tip through the soaked fabric, leaving darker, wetter marks with every pass. The cotton clung to him now, molding around the thick curve of his cock, and she swore she could feel it twitch each time she lingered on the head.

She leaned back just enough to look at the mess she’d made—his boxers sticking to him, a glossy spot spreading where his precum had bled through. Her lips curled in triumph. “Mm. That’s cute. You’re leaking for me already,” she teased, brushing her mouth over him again, not quite giving him what he wanted.

Rafe’s jaw flexed, his grip on her hair tightening as he lifted his hips like he was trying to push himself closer. “Stop fucking around,” he rasped, eyes heavy with frustration and want.

She chuckled, the sound vibrating against him as she dragged her tongue in one slow, deliberate stripe up his length. “But this is the fun part,” she purred, pressing a wet kiss to the tip through the fabric before sucking lightly. “Making you ache for it.”

His breath hitched, a low curse falling from his lips. “You’re playing with fire, baby.”

Cath glanced up at him from under her lashes, smug as hell. “Good. I like watching you burn.”

She flattened her tongue and pressed harder, letting his precum smear against her mouth through the boxers, making the fabric even slicker. Then she mouthed the shape of him, slow and lazy, as if she had all night to torture him.

But instead, Cath hooked her fingers into the waistband of his boxers and tugged them down slow, almost ceremonious, like she knew he’d been dying for this. His cock sprang free, flushed and thick, heavy against his lower stomach.

Her lips parted slightly, eyes dragging over him before she gave a low, amused hum. “At least someone is excited to see me,” she said casually, trying to hold back a laugh.

Rafe leaned back into the couch, still watching her like she was the only thing that mattered, that infuriating, knowing smile tugging at his mouth.

She bent forward and planted a kiss right on the tip—soft, almost innocent—before trailing a few more down the underside, letting her tongue barely graze him. He twitched in her hand, and her grin widened.

“Mm. Sensitive.”

“Hungry,” he corrected with a smirk, one hand finding the back of her head, fingers threading into her hair.

Cath took him into her mouth slowly, letting her tongue swirl around the head before sliding down, inch by inch, until her lips stretched wide around him. She kept her eyes locked on his, smug at the way his smirk faltered when she swallowed deeper.

“Fuck, you look good like that,” he groaned, hips shifting forward.

She hummed around him, the vibration making him curse, then pulled back just enough to suck hard before sinking down again.

Rafe’s patience lasted all of thirty seconds before he tightened his grip in her hair and thrust forward, guiding her pace. “Open wider, kitten.”

Cath made a muffled, almost mocking sound, but obeyed, letting him slide deeper until her nose brushed his skin. Her nails dug into his thighs as he started to fuck into her mouth properly, each movement controlled but filthy, his cock glistening with her spit when he pulled back.

“You take me better than I thought you would,” he panted, watching her lips stretch around him.

She pulled off with a pop, saliva connecting her mouth to him, wiping it away with the back of her hand. “Told you—I’m not easy. You’ve gotta work for it, Cameron.”

His jaw tightened, eyes dark. “Oh, I’ll work for it.”

And then he was pulling her back down, fucking into her mouth harder, making her gag just enough to smirk against him when she realized he liked the sound.

Cath was still working him over—slow, obscene sucks and that smug glint in her eyes—when footsteps thudded down the stairs.

“Rafe?” Sarah’s voice cut through the haze, too close for comfort.

Rafe’s hand shot down, grabbing the throw blanket from the back of the couch. He fumbled like hell, yanking it over his lap—Cath still under it, his cock wet and flushed, her nails digging into his thigh in annoyance.

“Y-yeah?” His voice cracked just enough for him to clear his throat, trying to sound casual.

Sarah stopped at the bottom of the stairs, looking from him to the muted TV. “You seen Topper lately? Like… is he seeing someone?”

Rafe shifted in his seat, grinding his teeth when Cath gave one slow, taunting lick under the blanket. “Uh—why?”

Sarah folded her arms, clearly in gossip mode. “I heard something from Brianna, but she’s not sure, and Amanda said—”

Rafe cut her off with a shrug. “No clue. Ask him yourself.” His tone was sharp enough to make her narrow her eyes, but she didn’t notice the faint movement under the blanket where Cath’s mouth was still busy.

Sarah sighed, muttering something about “guys being useless” before turning toward the kitchen.

As soon as she was out of earshot, Cath pulled back, wiping her mouth and smirking. “That’s two Camerons I’ve fooled now.”

Rafe glared down at her, though the corner of his mouth twitched. “You think you’re funny?”

“Hilarious, actually,” she said, settling back on her heels like she hadn’t just had his cock down her throat while his sister was asking about another guy.

Sarah came out of the kitchen with a drink in her hand, eyes landing on Catherine

Sarah came out of the kitchen with a drink in her hand, eyes landing on Catherine who was now lounging on the couch like she owned the place.

“Cath, come upstairs,” Sarah said, her voice brisk. “We need you for the photoshoot. Laisie’s camera is trash, and Amanda’s freaking out.” Then she turned her attention to Rafe, scanning him like she wasn’t sure if she wanted him there at all. “And you… probably should head out.”

Rafe just leaned back further into the couch, one arm sprawled across the backrest, wearing that lazy, smug grin that always made people want to punch him. “I’m good right here.”

Sarah gave him one last suspicious glance before disappearing upstairs with Catherine in tow.

For Rafe, the minutes dragged. He scrolled through his phone, stared at the muted TV, replayed the way her mouth had looked stretched around him—until his phone buzzed.

Unknown Nunber: Guest bedroom. Now.

He smirked instantly, shoving his phone in his pocket and standing up like someone had just flipped a switch. Without hesitation, he headed for the stairs, taking them two at a time, already picturing her waiting for him with that smirk.

When he finally found the room, Rafe pushed the door open without knocking, grin tugging at his lips. The second he stepped inside, Catherine was already there, leaning against the dresser like she’d been waiting forever, arms crossed, lips curled smug.

“’Bout time,” she said, right before fisting his shirt and pulling him down into a kiss.

It wasn’t sweet. It was teeth, tongue, and her nails dragging up his chest as he kicked the door shut. Rafe groaned into her mouth, gripping her ass and hauling her up so her legs wrapped around his waist. She laughed against his lips, bratty and smug, like she was the one in charge.

Clothes peeled off fast—her tiny silver top tossed aside, his shirt yanked over his head, her shorts shoved down just enough for him to get his hands where he wanted. He spun her around and bent her over the edge of the bed, palms flattening against the small of her back as he stood behind her, stroking himself with one hand.

“Fuck,” he muttered, staring down at the gemmed thong stretched tight across her hips. He hooked his fingers in and pulled it aside, sliding his cock through her folds, just to tease.

Catherine groaned, throwing a look over her shoulder, hair falling into her face. “You gonna fuck me or keep acting like you’re starring in your own porno?”

Rafe smirked, gripping her hip with one hand and lining himself up with the other. “What’s the difference?”

And then he pushed in—slow at first, just to feel her stretch around him, then harder until her cheek was pressed to the mattress and her nails clawed at the sheets.

Her moan came out strangled, bratty as ever. “Cocky and unoriginal. Figures.”

Rafe’s jaw clenched as he bottomed out, pulling back only to slam into her again, his hand pressing down between her shoulder blades. “Unoriginal? Babe, nobody fucks you like this.”

Rafe’s grip tightened on her hips, his pace brutal from the jump—hips snapping forward so hard the sound of skin slapping filled the guest room. Catherine’s breath caught, her nails digging into the sheets, ass bouncing back to meet him.

“Jesus, Cameron,” she moaned, glancing back at him with a smirk even as her face twisted with pleasure. “That all you got?”

Rafe growled, grabbing a fistful of her hair and yanking her head back so her arched spine pressed her tits against the bed. He leaned over her, chest brushing her back, lips ghosting her ear. “You’re still running that mouth while I’m balls-deep in you?” His hips rolled forward, grinding his cock into her spot until she gasped. “Guess I’m not fucking you hard enough.”

Her laugh broke off into a moan as he slammed into her, making the bed creak. She reached back blindly, scratching down his thigh. “I’ve had pogues fuck me better than this.”

That did it. Rafe snarled, hauling her up by her hair until her back was flush against his chest, her feet barely on the floor. He wrapped his hand around her throat, cock still buried inside her, pounding up into her from below.

“Say that again,” he hissed against her ear, his hand tightening just enough to make her whimper.

Catherine smirked through the ragged breaths, lips glossy, eyes flashing. “I said… you’re still just another fuck.”

Rafe’s hips snapped hard, cock driving into her so deep her knees buckled. His free hand gripped her waist, holding her steady as he fucked her through her bratty little act.

Her moans spilled out of her despite the smirk on her lips. “God, you’re so easy to play. Thought you had me figured out?” She reached back, fingers brushing his jaw, nails dragging over his skin. “Guess I’m the one making you lose your shit.”

Rafe groaned low in his throat, snapping his hips even harder, the sound of his cock sliding in and out of her slick cunt obscene. “Yeah? Then why are you dripping all over my cock, huh?” His teeth grazed her shoulder, biting down just to hear her gasp.

Rafe bent her back over the edge of the guest bed, his grip brutal on her hips as he pounded into her from behind. Every thrust sent her tits bouncing against the sheets, muffled whimpers slipping out of her even as she tried to bite them back.

“You still gonna talk shit?” Rafe panted, sweat dripping down his temple. His cock slammed so deep she jolted forward, nails clawing the comforter. “Still think I’m just another fuck?”

She wanted to throw it in his face again, wanted to smirk and taunt him—but her voice cracked on the next moan. “F-fuck… Rafe…”

His grin spread wide. “What’s that? Say it again.”

Her bratty spark flickered as her body betrayed her. Her knees trembled, cunt clenching around him, slick dripping down her thighs. “Rafe—please—don’t stop.”

That pleading tone made his cock twitch inside her. He leaned down, hand pressing her cheek into the sheets, fucking her even rougher. “Oh, so now you’re begging? What happened to all that attitude, baby?”

Catherine’s eyes fluttered, her voice breaking into sweetness she couldn’t control when she was close. “Please, please, I’m so close—don’t stop, don’t you dare stop.”

Rafe chuckled darkly, teeth grazing her ear as he drove into her. “That’s more like it. Knew I’d fuck the brat out of you.”

She whimpered, her tone needy now, sugary-soft in a way she hated but couldn’t help. “Please, Rafe—please let me come, I need it.”

He slammed into her harder, groaning as her walls fluttered around him. “Beg prettier.”

“Please, Rafe,” she cried out, voice trembling, “I’ll be good—I swear, just let me—” Her words broke off into a sharp moan as her whole body seized, cunt squeezing his cock in tight waves. She sobbed out his name into the sheets, legs giving out as he held her upright, still driving into her through her orgasm.

Rafe laughed low against her neck, feeling her come undone. “Sweet little slut,” he murmured, biting her shoulder, “you sound so much better when you’re begging.”

Rafe pulled out, chest heaving, and without giving her a second to recover he flipped her onto her back. Catherine let out a small yelp, glaring up at him as he spread her thighs wide.

“The fuck are you doing?” she muttered, voice still wrecked from her orgasm.

“Not done,” Rafe grunted, shoving her knees up until they pressed against her tits. His hand pinned them there. “Hold ‘em.”

Cath scowled, defiant even with her hair stuck to her sweaty face. “I already came.”

His laugh was dark, mean, dripping with cocky disbelief. “Yeah? Too bad it’s not about you anymore.” He lined his cock back up, the blunt head pushing against her swollen entrance, slick and messy from her orgasm.

She rolled her eyes, bratty as ever. “God, you’re obsessed.”

“Obsessed with this pussy,” Rafe snapped back, forcing himself inside her again. The stretch dragged a sharp gasp out of her even as she clenched her jaw to hide it. He leaned over her, face inches from hers, eyes wild. “And I’m not letting you tap out just ‘cause you got yours first.”

Cath groaned, squirming against his weight, her hands trying to push his chest away instead of holding her legs. “You’re heavy, Cameron. And annoying.”

He smirked, rutting into her harder, forcing her knees back into place with his palms until her thighs trembled against her tits. “Annoying but you’re still letting me fuck you, huh?” His thrusts got sharper, faster, his breath ragged as he chased the edge. “You’re gonna sit there and look at me while I finish. Got it?”

Her lips curled into a bratty little grin even as her body shook beneath him. “Or what?”

Rafe’s eyes narrowed, sweat dripping down his jaw. He slammed into her so deep her smirk cracked into a moan she didn’t mean to let slip. His voice was a growl against her lips.

“Or I’ll fuck you again until you’re begging like before.”

Rafe’s rhythm got erratic, hips snapping harder as his breath turned into ragged groans. Catherine could feel the change in him—how close he was—and her smirk came back, smug and satisfied.

“Finally,” she muttered, rolling her eyes. “Thought you’d never—”

But suddenly he pulled out, the sudden emptiness making her gasp in frustration.

“What the fu—”

He wrapped a fist around his cock, stroking it fast, his teeth clenched as he hovered over her. His eyes locked on her bare skin, on the smooth plane of her stomach, and he let out a sharp groan as his release spilled out in thick, hot ropes across her belly.

Cath froze, glaring down at the mess instantly soaking into her skin. “You did not just—”

Rafe grinned through heavy breaths, smug as hell, stroking out the last drops against her skin. “Mhm. I did.”

Her mouth dropped open in pure disgust, her hands immediately going for the nightstand tissues. “Are you kidding me, Rafe? On me?”

He leaned back on his heels, still catching his breath, and laughed. “What, you thought I was gonna waste it on the sheets?”

“Yes! That’s literally what normal people do!” she snapped, wiping at her stomach furiously.

Rafe tilted his head, watching her squirm and pout, and smirked wider. “Nah. Sheets don’t look half as good covered in me as you do.”

Cath threw the balled-up tissue at his chest, scowling. “You’re disgusting.”

He caught it with a cocky grin, tossing it aside. “And you’re hot when you’re pissed. Perfect combo.”

Catherine slid off the bed, already reaching for her tiny sparkly top, muttering under her breath about being so over this. But before she could even pull it over her head, Rafe caught her wrist, dragging her back into a kiss.

She resisted at first, lips tight against his, but then she melted just enough to let him taste her again—annoyed at herself for giving in, but also unwilling to let him think she didn’t want more. When she finally broke away, breathless, she swatted his chest.

“I have to go check on the girls before they think I disappeared,” she whispered, pulling her top into place. “And it’s suspicious enough that you’re not on the couch.”

Rafe smirked like he couldn’t care less, leaning back against the headboard, lazy and arrogant. “Yeah? Let ‘em be suspicious.”

“Not how this works,” Catherine shot back, tossing him a glare before turning her back to him. “Tie this.”

Rafe pushed himself up, standing behind her. His big hands skimmed over her bare sides as he lazily tugged the ties of her top together, deliberately slow, lips brushing her shoulder.

“Could untie it just as easy, you know.”

She rolled her eyes. “You won’t get the chance.”

And that was exactly the moment the door burst open.

“Cath, are you—” Sarah stopped dead in the doorway, her eyes widening as she took in the scene: Catherine with her back turned, Rafe standing way too close behind her, his hands on the ties of her top.

“Oh my god,” Sarah blurted, looking between them like her brain short-circuited. “What the hell is this?”

Catherine froze, wide-eyed for half a second before pasting on her smirk, her voice dripping with fake innocence. “What does it look like?”

Rafe, meanwhile, just smirked—completely unbothered, almost entertained. “Guess the secret’s out.”

Sarah’s mouth opened, eyes darting between them like she was seconds away from detonating the whole truth. “But what… what about—”

Catherine’s head snapped toward her, sharp and warning, cutting her off before she could even form the word boyfriend.

“It was just a hook up, Sar,” Cath said quickly, shimmying her shorte back over her hips, her tone flippant like she was brushing lint off her shoulder. “I’m not into your brother, chill.”

Sarah blinked at her, still processing, then turned her glare on Rafe. “You’re disgusting.”

Rafe just leaned back, arms crossed, a cocky little smile playing on his lips like he’d just won a game no one else knew they were playing. “Relax, Sarah. She’s not complaining.”

Catherine rolled her eyes so hard it hurt, zipping her skirt. “Don’t flatter yourself, Rafe.”

“Oh, I don’t need to,” Rafe drawled, his gaze trailing deliberately over her legs before flicking back to her face. “You already did.”

Sarah groaned, shoving her hands into her hair, muttering, “This is insane. You guys are insane.”

Catherine just blew out a laugh, tossing her hair back and reaching for the door. “Relax, Sar. It’s not that deep. Now let’s go before your little photoshoot implodes without me.”

And with that, she brushed past Sarah like nothing happened, her perfume still heavy in the air. Rafe smirked at the sight of her walking away, already plotting how he was going to get her alone again.

“I don’t like it when you fuck around with my friends, Rafe,” she hissed, her voice low but furious. “You do this shit all the time—like everyone’s just some game for you.”

Rafe tilted his head back, smirking like he wasn’t the least bit guilty. “Game? C’mon, don’t make it sound so dirty. We were just having fun.”

“Fun?” Sarah repeated, her jaw clenching. “You’re going to ruin things. She’s my friend. She doesn’t need your bullshit.”

Rafe finally pushed off the dresser, closing the space between them. His voice dropped, cocky and sharp. “You mean the same way your bullshit doesn’t matter when you’re screwing around with my best friend?”

Sarah froze, lips parting, but no words came out.

Rafe smirked wider, enjoying every second of her silence. “Yeah, that’s what I thought. Don’t sit here and act holier-than-thou when you’re dating Topper fucking Thornton. If anyone’s crossing lines, it’s you.”

Sarah’s face flushed, whether from anger or embarrassment, even she couldn’t tell. “That’s different,” she snapped.

“Different how?” Rafe challenged, leaning down so they were eye level, his tone dripping arrogance. “Because it suits you?”

Sarah’s hands tightened into fists at her sides, but she didn’t say a word about Cath’s boyfriend. Instead, she jabbed a finger at him. “Just… just don’t make a habit of it, Rafe. I swear, if you hurt her—”

“Relax,” Rafe interrupted smoothly, holding up his hands in mock surrender. “I don’t hurt girls. I enjoy them, then I move on. You know that.”

Sarah glared at him, not buying it. “Yeah, well, not my friends. Keep your hands off them, or I swear—”

Rafe leaned closer, his smirk softening just enough to be dangerous. “Or what? You’ll ground me? You’re snitch on me to Dad?”

Sarah huffed, spinning on her heel. She didn’t argue further, not wanting to admit how much seeing him with Cath had twisted her stomach. Instead, she muttered under her breath, “Some big brother you are…” and stomped out, leaving Rafe alone, grinning to himself.

[starryletters]

cat person – part 1

clark kent x reader (who doesn't know he's superman..yet!)

notes: inspired by the fact that david corenswet loves cats/is a cat person! which definitely solidifies him as a perfect man in my book, nerdy theatre kid who loves cats? c'mon! so anyways i'm here to spread my clark kent loves cats and cats love clark kent agenda

wordcount: 2k

You always knew that Clark was coming home long before you heard the familiar sound of him fumbling with his keys through the door.

Did you perhaps share Superman’s supernatrual hearing and were able to hear him walking home from miles away?

No, but you're starting to think your cat could.

Ever since you first introduced Toast (your rowdy orange menace of a cat) and Clark (your handsome boyfriend of 10 months) to each other, Toast has been completely obsessed with him.

There’s not a doubt in your mind that Toast prefers Clark over you now– you’ve had enough time now to go through all the stages of grief and just accept it, after all everyone knows that being a mother is a thankless job.

But at this point you think your cat might love Clark more than you love Clark. And that was saying a lot– because, boy, did you love that dork. 

You were leaning on the kitchen counter, staring at the toaster with a steely glare, waiting for your poptart to pop out. You weren’t going to get jumpscared– not this time.

You were an adult woman with an adult job and you had decided that you were simply past the point in your life where it was acceptable to still yelp and jump in surprise because of a toaster.

Especially considering you had lived in Metropolis nearly your entire life and witnessed many intergalactic “surprises”,  you’d think you’d be more desensitized by now.

Unfortunately your focus was broken by your cat suddenly jumping off the counter and skedaddling at high speeds across the apartment towards the front door.

You just glanced at the clock, barely phased by this now common occurrence. 12:34 AM. Clark must’ve worked overtime again.

Usually you weren't awake to greet him when he came home this late, but you had your day off tomorrow so you had decided to indulge yourself by spending the evening finally binging that new show on Netflix that all of your friends and their moms had already seen and almost entirely spoiled for you.

But you had still enjoyed it, evidently so much so that you hadn't even realized what time it was until just now.

You peered over your shoulder at your cat sitting and meowing loudly at the door, as if Clark wouldn’t be able to find his way home without the sweet screechings of your little ginger furball.

You knew it would be at least another minute before Clark even reached your apartment floor– how your cat already knew of his arrival was a mystery to you.

Must be whatever soulmate bond they shared that you obviously just wouldn't understand. You shook your head with a small smile, turned back to the toaster, were about to yawn when-

Pop!

You jumped back a little and gasped. “Goddamnit!” you groaned. It got you again. Stupid toaster.

You grumbled to yourself as you cautiously pulled the hot pop tarts out, trying not to also burn your fingertips off, and tossed them on a plate.

You’d save the second one for Clark. He did always tell you that sweets before bed weren’t good and caused nightmares but you knew he couldn't resist a little treat after such a long day.

Your ears perked up at the sound of jingling keys followed by a click of the lock. The door opened just a teensy bit when Toast, like always, tried to shove his face through the small crack that had now been created.

Before he could proceed any further though you could see Clark’s foot peek in and gently nudge the cat backwards– Clark was well acquainted with Toast's antics by now.

Clark squeezed himself into the apartment trying not to open the door too much. As soon as he successfully shut the door behind him, he crouched down and cooed a greeting at Toast who instantly jumped up and started pawing at him and bonking his head against Clark’s face.

A smile stretched over his lips exposing his dimples as he tried to pet the affectionate ginger who was practically climbing all over him, purring louder than an engine.

“Hey, buddy,” he chuckled, his voice low and gentle. Hearing it always felt like having a warm heavy blanket draped around your body that shielded you from all the stress and sharp edges of the outside world. You've always thought he would do well narrating audiobooks with a voice like that.

“Do I get a ‘Hey, buddy’ too?” You grinned as you leaned against the kitchen doorframe.

Clark’s eyes finally landed on you, but he didn’t seem caught off guard by your presence like you thought he would be since he was so focused on the little orange menace still pawing at him.

But it was actually pretty difficult to ever catch Clark off guard, despite the fact that he seemed like a frazzled mess about 70 percent of the time. He was surprisingly grounded.

“I think we’ve gone well past the buddy stage, haven't we?” he grinned, rising from his crouched position much to the dismay of Toast.

He steps towards you– almost tripping on poor Toast who had started rubbing against his legs.

You were about to give a quippy remark before Clark enveloped your waist with his strong arms and planted a longing kiss on your lips.

You giggled into his mouth, wrapping your arms around his neck. You could feel him lifting you up, just until your feet hovered over the hardwood floor. Gosh, he was an absolute building of a man. Tall, stable, strong.

You just wanted to cling onto him, have him hold you in his strong arms and carry you places– which was truly something you’d never thought you’d even think about anyone.

You were independent, and you liked it that way. You hated feeling infantilized, maybe sometimes even to a fault. Sometimes you confused being taken care of as being treated like a kid, as if you were some little helpless girl and not a grown capable woman.

And yes, of course you knew that that was silly. Wanting and accepting care was just human nature. But you don't think you had never truly been able to accept it. Not until Clark. 

You reluctantly pulled away from the dizzying sensation of his lips. Clark chased your lips for one last peck. Like he always did.

His glasses were just the tiniest bit fogged up on the bottom. He slowly put you back down but his hands stayed firmly planted on your hips.

“How was work?” You hummed, gently brushing a few unruly curls from his forehead. You loved his curls.

He let his head fall into the crook of your neck with a dramatic sigh. “Exhausting,” His lips tickled your skin. Your nails began to softly scratch at the back of his head. You knew that was his weak spot, because every time you did it you could without fail feel him shudder and then melt like putty under your touch.

“What’re you still doing up?” He mumbled, raising his head slightly to get a better look at you. “I was watching that new show: Celestial Celebrity. It was pretty good. Kind of a bummer ending though.”

“Really? What's it about?” he asked. You knew that despite the fact that Clark was probably completely spent right now he was still being incredibly sincere with that question.

He was the kind of guy that genuinely cared about the topics that regular people would just deem as small talk. "I don't get why people would ask things if they don't actually care to hear the answers." he had complained to you once.

Slowly you could feel him leaning on you more and more, so you decided it would be a good idea to gently steer him towards the bedroom before he accidentally falls asleep on top of you.

You loved a good weighted blanket but you weren't so sure how comforting it would still be if said blanket was 6’4 and 200-something pounds.

“Well–” you began as you began to slowly herd him towards the bed like a sheepdog with a very sleep-deprived sheep. “It's actually a super interesting premise. So it's like a reality show, right?”

“Mhm..” he mumbled.

“But like it's not? Like it's a drama show with actors and everything but it's just portraying its plot through the lens of a reality show. Well up until like the fifth episode. What's really cool is that it doesn't take place on earth, in fact most of the actors aren't even from earth. Anyways so what happens is–”

You kept chattering on about the show slowly getting quieter and quieter, while lowering the now half-asleep Clark into bed.

His body was practically asleep while his brain was expending all its leftover energy listening to you and thinking about how nice you smelled, how warm you were.

After he finally flopped onto the bed, you wasted no time sidling up next to him. No less than a second later Toast jumped up into bed with you and curled up on his favorite napping spot, which just so happened to be Clark’s chest.

Hey, you couldn't blame the guy, if you were a cat that would be your favorite place too.

Clark was really the ideal napping partner now that you thought about it. He was so big and firm but yet still so soft and cuddly. Must be that famous farm boy strength he's always talking about.

You got comfy next to him and began raking your fingers through Clark’s locks again, smiling at him with what you could only imagine was the most lovestruck expression any human being was capable of. You couldn't help it.

Every time you looked at him, every time you thought of him, it felt like a sparkler of joy and pure love was set off in your chest, its glowing sparks spreading throughout every inch of your body.

You were pretty sure he had fallen asleep the second his body had hit the mattress, his glasses were all crooked on his face and his cheek was smushed against the pillow. Trying not to disturb him or the glasses too much you carefully reached out to pluck them off his face and set them on your nightstand.

The warm orange light from your small bedside lamp spilled over his handsome face, coating all the angular edges of his well defined bone structure with muted shadows exposing the true softness in his features. He was a gentle and kind man.

Of course, you knew this. You could see it everyday, in his actions, in his choices.

But somehow you could see it even more now in the quiet of your home.

With his face relaxed you could truly see his kindness etched into every part of him, in the faint crows feet around his eyes, in his defined smile lines, in the tiny little worry crease between his brows that you had often smoothed out with your thumb.

You could even hear it, in the form of the loud purring of your small ginger cat happily splayed out on top of him exposing its tummy.

Toast clearly knew he never had to make use of his lackluster survival skills around Clark– because he would protect him.

Your cat saw him as the safest place on earth.

And as you cuddled into Clarks side after flicking off the light and you felt his arm instinctively curl around you, you knew that your cat was right. 

(BONUS)

“Honey?”

You grumbled in response as you sauntered into the kitchen, still rubbing sleep from your eyes.

“Did you make Poptarts for dinner last night?” Clark asked in a slightly disapproving tone. You noticed the abandoned plate of Poptarts still sitting on the kitchen counter.

You yawned, “Oh..yeah. Guess I'm having them for breakfast now.” Shrugging, you bit into the slightly stale sugary treat. Clark seemed somewhat distressed. “Please tell me you'll eat something with nutritional value after that.”

“Shouldn't you be at the Daily Planet by now?” you grinned. Sometimes it was just too much fun to rile Clark up. He furrowed his brows, “Yes, but-” 

You chuckled, “Don't worry, I'm gonna make myself a nice healthy breakfast, now go! You're gonna be later than you normally are.” You playfully shooed him towards the door, sending him off with a tap on the butt and a sweet sugary kiss goodbye.

[melodiesz]

Me, Jealous?

୨ৎ How the demon brothers show jealousy. Incl. Lucifer, mammon, levi, satan, asmo, beel, belphie

LUCIFER

-Lucifer wouldn’t get jealous often, mainly because he’s mature enough to know you love him and would never cheat on him, but there’s definitely been times.

-Like someone else flirting with you wouldn’t make him jealous; in-fact he would be in a good mood after seeing you immediately shut them down. But if someone does something only he does for you, like buying you things? He gets pissed.

-You can’t tell when he’s jealous because his face stays the same, just asking if you had a good day with your friend.

-He knows it’s not your fault so rather than get angry at you he simply one-ups the other person, giving you his master card and telling you to go crazy, to fill up your wardrobe with clothes all from him because he knows nobody can provide for you like he can.

MAMMON

-Full blown crashout. He gets more jealous than the literal avatar of envy.

-He likes spending all his time with you, so when you hang out with someone else he easily gets all jealous and pouty, but tries not to show it because he doesn’t want to be controlling.

-But if someone makes you laugh? Yeah, they’re never seen again. Only he gets to make you laugh like that.

-If he sees someone getting a little too close to you he will slide over with a casual expression, shoving close to you and wrapping his arms around your waist like an amusement park line couple.

“who’s you’re friend?” he’ll ask, and you don’t think much of it with the friendly tone, but with your back to him you don’t see the death stares he gives.

-He’s the Avatar of Greed, of course he wants his most prized treasure all to himself!

LEVIATHAN

-Envy and jealousy are two totally different emotions, but his jealous is often cause by envy.

-Sometimes when he sees you with others, he gets envious and wonders if you would be happier with someone better. This only turns into jealousy if he sees you be very friendly with them—the fear that you might leave him for someone else growing.

-He trusts you, but thinks that he couldn't even blame you if you picked someone more attractive or social, so he shuts himself away from you.

-It’s different when someone touches you, though. Nothing snaps him out of his self-loathing quicker.

-The envy turns into seething, ugly jealousy because he knows you only let him touch you like that, so why is someone else grabbing your hip? Yeah, Lotan is definitely taking a trip to their house.

SATAN

-He trusts you more than anything and knows to control his anger, so he doesn’t get jealous often. but when he does, it’s brutal.

-He would never get mad at you for just being friendly with a stranger, but you can practically see steam come out of his ears when they keep sneaking flirty comments in. -He’s reasonable, he knows when someone is just being nice to you, but the second he hears that hint of flirting he’s seething.

-You’ve never actually seen him jealous because he doesn’t like to show you that side of him. Instead he just acts like everything is fine and goes about the day like normal, but weeks later you realize that you haven’t seen the friendly bakery worker since.

-Missing persons cases started going up since you two got together, I wonder why?

ASMODEUS

-I think it’s very rare for him to get jealous, honestly the least jealous out of all the brothers.

-He’s perfect, nobody would even stand a chance of being better than him, so why would you choose someone else?

-But he will get upset if he sees someone doing things only the two of you do together; like a spa day, seeing someone paint your nails, or you going shopping with someone else.

-Because that’s his time with you! Why would you do it with someone else when you could be doing it with your beautiful, perfect boyfriend?

-He makes his jealousy very clear, straight up showing up wherever you are and telling the person they can leave now because they were clearly just a replacement since he wasn’t there.

-He gets over it really quickly tho, the second he’s in your presence again he’s happy and any shoved-down insecurities he has of not being good enough are gone.

BEELZEBUB

-It takes a while for Beel to really trust someone, so once he does, it’s unbreakable.

-If someone else is flirting with you he doesn’t have much of a reaction, just comes over to you and usually his height and build are enough to scare them away.

-But if you were being sweet with someone else, as sweet as you are with him, he gets a bitter taste in his mouth. He goes quiet, unsure of what to say because of course you can be nice to others, but he wants you to compliment only him.

-Will purposely start showing off to try and get your attention—picking up heavy things so that his biceps flex and pushing his hair back like he’s in a cologne ad.

-When you realize what he’s doing and tease him, he’ll get embarrassed and stop, but will be silently beaming that your attention is back on him.

BELPHEGOR

-He’s a yandere, so he definitely gets jealous very easily, and he makes it known.

-If anyone even looks at you for longer than he deems acceptable he gets upset and will go silent for the rest of the day, like he’s plotting.

-It’s always clear that he’s jealous, with the way he goes eerily silent or when you catch his tail swaying in irritation and realize his demon form is out.

-But at one point he started to hide it, acting like everything was fine and even being friendly with the person in question. Yet later in the day, you’ll see him walk past drenched in blood.

-He knows you see him—he wants you to. He just smiles all sweetly like this should be a warning that you don’t need to talk to anyone but him.

a/n: I had to force myself to shorten Asmos cause it was double all the other ones 😭 I’ve been obsessed with him since playing lesson 32, he’s so underrated!! anyways, thank you again for the request! <3

[twistedparallaxknowledgetom]

Jax has not let himself feel any of the consequences for his actions, resorting to the idea that they are all cartoon characters so he can discount the personhood of the others and their emotions. If they're not human, then they don't matter, and if he's not human either then maybe he can make himself believe that his feelings don't matter, which makes it easier to put them in a little box and not think about them. Gangle can't escape consequences that easily. Even more than Ragatha, Gangle has been made to feel that her interests and her wants don't matter. That being invested in anime and drawing cartoons makes you something less than human, someone that's easy to dismiss, which makes her more withdrawn and easier for Jax to make fun of her and perpetuate all of this.

Zooble is the most blunt of all of all the players, unlike both Jax and Gangle she doesn't use a mask. She changes her physical appearance to appeal only to herself, and she repeatedly stands up to both Jax and Caine. Zooble knows the horror of the circus well, and that there's no chance of escape, so it matters more when she tells Gangle that she has worth as a human being because it isn't a sugar-coated lie. That fear of being lied to and used might be at least partly why Jax refuses to grow beyond his archetype mindset. We know that at the very least he had some form of relationship with other characters before they abstracted, and it's not pleasant. His attempt to get Pomni to shoot him is as far from Zooble's statement as you can go. An attempt to prove to himself that they can do whatever they like to each other because they aren't human. Especially because they can all see the hearts above their heads, and he knows they can't leave the circus and that he's not human, because instead of dying he'd just come back to the circus.

i have seen barely anyone talk about the parallels in these conversations. its so fucking neat and we need to discuss this more

[realcube]

NEED YOU 2

desc ;; kuroo creates an nsfw twt account for the sole purpose of collaborating with his fav camgirl

info ;; this is part two of a joint fic with @kkurooswifee. click here for pt 1 and here for the twitter links.

tw + tags ;; nsfw minors dni. smut, vaginal, anal plugs, degradation, praise, impact play, fingering, filming, exhibitionism & size kink (wc: 7.2k)

Since launching his X-rated twitter account, things had been going surprisingly well for Kuroo.

Of course, he only started with the intention of gaining your attention, but he could get used to the other perks associated with owning an explicit twitter account. Such as the constant praise and flirtatious DMs from hundreds of people, gushing to him about how muscular and sexy he is. Sometimes it felt rude or objectifying, but often it simply fuelled his ego. These compliments would come alongside donations too; hefty sums of money sent straight to his PayPal. If he had known amateur male solo-play was such a lucrative market, he would’ve got into it a lot sooner. 

Naturally, he garnered a relatively large fanbase in a short space of time, so he was worried that — despite being a faceless creator — he might be doxxed or his true identity may somehow be revealed. But thankfully that had yet to happen. Everything so far has been working out in his favour.

Yet, he was growing impatient.

He wasn't doing this for the money. He already had a full-time job, so the extra cash — although pleasant — was not enough to justify the risk of ruining his image. Similarly, the flattery and pseudo-fame was nice, but not enough to keep him from deactivating his account. 

A month had passed since its creation, and he’d been posting consistently to no avail. It’s almost infuriating; you’re the whole reason he was doing this, so why weren’t you acknowledging him? He thought of reaching out to you first, but although he has a decent audience, it’s still nothing compared to yours, so there’s no way you’d notice him in your sea of unread DMs.

No,  for this to work, you’d definitely have to make the first move. But why wouldn’t you? He’s done everything he can to get your attention. There had even been a couple instances of individuals in his replies, posting comments to the effect of: 

@ xxwh0re commented: Haf and y/n collab when????

@ HAFsociety replied: This would heal me @ y/n_username

@ dreamsskutya replied: please… let this happen…

The creator (@HAFvideos) liked this thread.

Oh, yeah. He named himself HAFvideos, and the HAF originally stood for ‘hot as fuck’, but his followers had been referring to him as though his name is ‘Haf’ and he couldn’t be bothered to correct them. Especially as he had no intention of telling them his real name.

Anyway, all his viewers could blatantly see that the two of you would have great chemistry, and he had clearly stated in his bio that he is open to collabs. So what’s your problem? It occurs to Kuroo that perhaps you’d just not seen his content yet, but it’s been almost a week of people tagging you in his replies, so surely you must’ve seen at least one of his videos by now. 

The disheartening conclusion would be that you’ve watched his content but you’re just not attracted to him, and you have no interest in meeting up with him. But thinking about that as a possibility just rips Kuroo apart, causing a deep dull ache in his chest. After all, he’d done this for you. The whole reason he’d been rubbing one out on camera almost every night for the last month was because of the mere prospect of getting to interact as equals with you. 

For fucks’ sake, he wore a cock ring because the degenerates in his comments kept asking him to, and he thought it will help him gain more traction. And more traction means a higher likelihood of you seeing him on your feed. So, the idea that all that effort might’ve been in vain destroys him.

But little did he know, you’d noticed him. Plenty. 

𓆩༒︎𓆪 

You sighed out your nose, slumped back in your desk chair and spinning idly as you scrolled through twitter. You had a livestream scheduled for later that night but you honestly could not  be bothered. Making yourself squirt every Thursday was becoming somewhat mundane, but you have bills to pay and manga to buy, so you persevere. 

As you were scrolling through your feed, you’re somewhat disassociating, lost in your own world as your thumb moved on its own. That is, until a particular video autoplayed and snapped you right back into reality, knocking the wind out of your lungs in the process.

It was a video of a man sat on the edge of his bed, wearing trousers but no shirt. Yet he’s got an expensive-looking watch on. The frame cut off above his collarbone and below his knees, so it’s largely just torso. Still, it was the single most captivating torso you’ve ever seen; he’s muscular, but not completely jacked. He had the faint outline of abs, with broad shoulders. And his arms are what really do it for you. Rotund biceps that are humble enough not to intimidate, but large enough for you to imagine yourself in his chokehold. The feeling of his muscles squishing your cheeks, fuck.

You’re not usually one to fall for male thirst-traps. You usually deem them sluts and move on. But something about this man truly called to you. Maybe it was the seductive way his legs were manspreading at the edge of the bed, and his large, clothed thigh was just begging to be ridden. Or maybe it was the casual way he laid back on one arm and used the other to invitingly pat his knee. God, he knows what he’s doing. Finally, maybe the part that intrigued you about this man was the gigantic bulge in his trousers that was calling your name. 

You’re not given much time to process what’s going on before he unzips his fly and pulls it out and shit, how’s it even bigger than you originally thought? His monstrous cock was now fully on display for the camera — for you — and you’re basically salivating over your screen. The length, the girth, the veins, the curve that was so perfect, it looks like he was built for your pussy. If he was in you, that leaky tip would bruise your cervix and those few prominent veins would brush your g-spot just right. 

Before you knew it, he'd already begun stroking it. Running his strong hand up and down his shaft. Maybe it was pathetic but you were momentarily lusting over his hand too; it was just so big, with neat nails and long fingers. You fantasise about the way they’d feel inside your snug cunt and how skilled he’d surely be. You can tell from the way he’s rubbing his own cock so slowly that he’d be sweet and gentle with you too. Treat you like a princess.

Soon, his hand was fully wrapped around his length and what was once moderate strokes quickly devolved into vigorous pumping. The video was muted but you would give anything to hear the deep groans he must’ve been letting out with each furious rub. You saw in the corner of the frame, the hand he was leaning on started to clench, balling the white sheets into his fist as his knuckles were painted white. 

Precum was smeared across his length, and kept drooling from his tip as he jerked himself off at a lethal rate. From your time in private shows with fans, you’d become an expert at detecting the signs of an imminent climax in men, and he was right there. Seconds from toppling over the edge. You bit your lip with anticipation, waiting eagerly for your screen to be filled with white and for him to make a mess all over his pristine trousers…

But the video ended abruptly.

Literally what the fuck? Why would he post something like that only to leave everyone in suspense? Such an evil, devious man. Your thighs were wet with arousal but there’s no satisfaction to show for it. Fuck, now you’re so antsy that you need to visit his page and finish what you started. Maybe on his profile you’d be able to find something even better.

Unbeknownst to you, after you clicked on his profile photo, it was all over for you. 

It didn’t take long before you were certifiably whipped for this faceless content creator. The mystery lured you in like a siren-call and his gorgeous biceps kept you there. Before every one of your livestreams, to get into the mood you would watch one of his videos or browse his photo collection and edge yourself to oblivion. God, you felt like such a loser for being so attracted to him, but you can’t bring yourself to be ashamed for too long — especially since this is the most alive you’ve been in ages. 

He became an integral part of your routine, but that wasn’t enough. It was parasitic and started to seep into other parts of your day too. Next thing you knew, you were watching him beat his meat while eating your dinner, as if it were some sort of innocuous YouTube video. Bringing the noodles to your mouth, you scroll through his comments and read them out of the corner of your eye. 

@ DaisyIvyDelight commented: Omg, pls hit me up for a collab 🫣

@ HAFsociety replied: I second this !! ^

@ Roll4coatser: are you currently accepting gf applications???

@ kiko445: なぜみんな英語を話しているのか

Why is everyone and their mum suddenly thirsting over your internet husband (who doesn’t know he’s your husband)? Surely, they can find another male content creator to fawn over. At first, you don’t let it bother you too much and you’re about to scroll away, until you notice that the comment of the girl proposing a collab has been liked by the creator. 

Your heart dropped when you saw that. No way is he actually considering bringing other women into his videos. So far, he’s only been making solo content, and everyone prefers that way. Or at least, you prefer it that way. You check her profile, and it only contributes to your stress, because she seems like a popular OnlyFans creator too, which means that the comment might not have been a joke. And him liking it might’ve been the start of a DM exchange which will eventually lead to…

No. Absolutely not. You need to take matters into your own hands and resolve this issue urgently. Usually you wouldn’t be so forward, but you’re under immense pressure and perhaps that causes you to behave in a way you wouldn’t normally. 

You click on the paper plane icon next to his display name, and type out your message from your main account: 

“Hey. Sorry, this is a bit random, but I make similar content to you and I was just wondering if you want to collab sometime? To help us grow our followings, and that kinda stuff. Have a nice day. :)” 

𓆩༒︎𓆪 

A short string of Twitter DMs eventually led to you standing outside the door to his apartment.

He’d already buzzed you in, so you were almost certain that you were in the right place. Still, a shroud of anxiety stirs through your insides. Clutching the fabric of your shirt, you cautiously knock on his door. So gently that you start to worry even more. What if he didn’t hear that? Should you knock again? If he heard you the first time and you keep knocking, he’ll probably think you’re desperate and pushy. God, you’re already ruining your chances of making a good first im—

“Hello?” The door swings open, to reveal a tall man standing on the other side. When his eyes land on you, his lips immediately pull into a mischievous smirk, “It’s you.” 

He was automatically able to recognise you from the abundant amount of time he’d spent watching your videos, meanwhile it took you a couple of seconds to fully process that the man standing before you was the infamous Haf. Your eyes dragged across his body, scrutinising every little detail and soaking up his impressive silhouette. His figure definitely was convincing you that he was the real deal: he had those massive biceps you were promised by his account, and they were virtually protruding from the thin white shirt he had on. He also wore a black tie with matching slacks and shoes; it occurred to you that his outfit was almost identical to the one he had on during the first video of his you ever watched — the one where he was jerking himself off on his bed, but it cuts off before he finishes. Same chunky watch and all. Except, of course, he was shirtless then, but right now he was unfortunately wearing one. Although, the sleeves were rolled up to his elbows in a way that was equally intriguing.

You’d never seen his face before, but you weren’t disappointed. He’s got a defined jaw and sleepy hazel eyes that seem to bore into you. It’s unclear whether that is a part of his facial structure, or if he was genuinely just tired. Regardless, it’s quite hot. In fact, everything about him was pretty hot. You trembled under his gaze, cheeks heating up from excitement. 

“Uh, hey.” You eventually splutter, unable to maintain eye-contact, “You’re.. Haf?”

Kuroo chortled heartily, falling onto his doorframe for support, and you flinched slightly at his sudden maniacal laughter. “Sorry, I forgot to tell you my real name.” He huffed, clutching his side as he tried to catch his breath, “I’m Kuroo. But I am the owner of H-A-F videos, so you’re in the right place.”

You pressed your lips together, noting that he says each letter individually. It was somewhat embarrassing that you’ve been following him for so long but you’ve been saying his name wrong the whole time. 

Wanting to fill the silence, Kuroo confirmed, “And you’re (y/n)?”

You nodded, and Kuroo looked down at you while leaning against his doorframe, with his buff arms crossed. A smirk played on his lips as he admired you; he thought he was doing a good job of acting natural around you, but really, he’s lucky that you haven’t built up the courage to look at him for long periods of time. Otherwise, you would’ve noticed the spark in his eyes and how much he was smiling like an idiot. Seriously, he hadn’t smiled this much in months. There’s really not much to be happy about when you’re working a trite, tiresome job.

He stepped back from the doorway and gestured for you to enter. “Come in. Make yourself at home.” You paused for a moment before you accepted, and hesitantly pad into his apartment. Your eyes hurriedly survey your surroundings, and you quickly realise that you’re living some sort of porno fantasy because this place is nice. You kinda anticipated it would be cushy considering it was in a decent area, but his room in particular was lavish. It was extremely modern and sleek, with jet black kitchen countertops to contrast his pristine white cabinets. Plus, all the equipment in his kitchen — like his microwave and oven — seemed so new and expensive. Like they actually might function properly. 

This leads you through his kitchen and past his stylish living room too; there’s a door at the other side of his apartment, which leads you to his bedroom. As soon as you enter, you’re overcome by an immense sense of deja vu — you’ve been here before. There’s his crisp white sheets and that grey headboard you always see in the background of his videos. To your left, the entire wall was made of glass, to serve as some sort of unnecessarily large window. Although, it did showcase a breath-taking view of the city beneath. 

There weren't very many other distinct features of his room. A black glossy dresser opposite his bed, under the TV, and he had a matching wardrobe stood against the other wall. There’s also a door next to it, which you assumed led to an ensuite bathroom. Plus, a singular nightstand next to his bed

He had a tripod and a couple of lights set up at the foot of his bed. You’re admiring the view, when the curtains slowly began to draw closed on their own, accompanied by a harsh whirring noise. You turned to Kuroo and saw that he was holding a small remote, and aimed it at the curtains. “For our privacy.” He murmured. 

Once they’ve shut, Kuroo puts the remote down and strides in front of you, plopping himself down at the edge of his bed, using his arms to support his torso in the same way you’ve witnessed so many times. Hence, it’s almost Pavlovian the way your pussy starts to ache. It’s the spitting image of the videos you have seared into your brain, until he pats the sheets for you to come sit with him. “Here, sit.”

You stared at him for a second, entirely lost in thought. He chuckled, “I don’t bite.”

Gulping, you couldn’t help but hold your breath as you shuffle towards him, his seductive eyes fixed on your every movement as you tentatively sit down next to him. You’re half a foot away, but he scooted in to close the gap until your thighs were touching. “How’re you feeling? Done anything like this before?”

“No. I’ve only ever done solo stuff.” You shook your head, peering at him through the corner of your eye. “How about you?”

“Same.” He sighed. There’s a beat of silence then he motioned to the hefty bin bag you’ve been hauling through his home and asked, “What’ve you got in there?” He cocks his head to the side with curiosity. 

“Oh, right.” You gulped, picking it up and holding the soft bag in your arms. “My outfits. I thought I’d bring some different options for what I could wear in the video.” You finally turned to look at him, only to see he was wearing an absolutely dumbfounded expression. You interpreted this as him being clueless to the art of roleplay. When you were checking out his profile, you quickly noted that he only started posting porn very recently; so he’s clearly still a novice to the world of adult content, and thus he’s ignorant to how well costume videos perform. 

However, that’s your internal assumption. In reality, Kuroo knew all about the different clothes you wear and the various creatures you dress-up as to satiate your kinky fanbase. The whole reason he looked so astonished was because he was one of those thirsty motherfuckers who was in your comments — on his secret account — begging for you to wear a catsuit. He was simply stunned by the prospect of getting to see you in those costumes in real life. 

In an attempt to educate him, you explained, “My videos usually do really well if I wear some sort of costume. Of course, you don’t need to dress-up, though. Unless you want to.” You stared at him, taking his silence as a response then continuing, “So, would you be okay with me showing you the options and we can decide together?”

Kuroo’s mouth and throat had gone dry as bone. He swallowed slowly to lubricate it, but still ended up rasping out, “Sure.”

Paying no mind to the strain in his voice, you spring up from your seat, grab your bag and drag it into the ensuite bathroom to get changed into the first costume. Putting these kinds of clothes on was usually tricky and oddly time-consuming, but Kuroo was just thankful that he was allowed some time to try and mentally will away the boner he had sprung as soon as your thigh brushed his. Most people would consider that pathetic, but he was just relieved that he hadn’t popped one the moment he laid eyes on you. Especially considering the first images that flashed in his mind were of you rubbing your clit for the camera and squirting on your fingers. 

Eventually he managed to settle himself down until he was flaccid again, but that effort was futile, as his dick already began hardening when you stepped out of the bathroom, clad in a risque maid costume. He exhaled harshly out of his nose at the sight; there was a faux-corset with white ribbons laddering up the front and back, under the dramatic scoopneck that revealed a shocking amount of cleavage. It baffled him that your tits somehow didn’t fall out as you walked towards him and gave a little twirl. It had a frilly ‘skirt’ which was really a short strip of fabric around your hips, it honestly didn’t cover anything. Your black lacey underwear was fully visible, and thus your plump asscheeks were too.

When you stepped out in that outfit, it also reminded him of that one video you did, where you positioned the camera high-up and angled it down at you while you sucked off a dildo that was suctioned to the wall. Blowing it messily and whining like a bitch the whole time, calling the viewer ‘master’ and ‘sir’. Fuck, his cock was throbbing in his trousers, but he tried to play it cool.

“Think this one would be popular?”

“It usually is.” You hum, fidgeting with the edge of your ‘skirt’, “Have you got a full-length mirror somewhere?”

He nodded his head towards his wardrobe and replied, “In there, baby. Open it.”

Your knees almost buckle at the nickname, yet you scuttle over to his wardrobe and open one of the doors like he said. As promised, there was a full-length mirror on the inside and you were able to see what the entire outfit looked like on you. Your eyebrows furrowed together as you scrutinised yourself harshly. Tugging at the ribbons the torso, you complain, “I wish this were a real corset. I’d be so cinched.”

“Cinched.” Kuroo repeated dreamily, transfixed on your perky tits threatening to burst out of that top at any given moment. When he realised he was staring, he snaps his neck straight and clears his throat, “It’s nice. Wanna wear that?”

“Hm, maybe. But I’d like to show you the other options first before we decide.”

“Go ahead.” He clicked his tongue, and you happily skipped back into his bathroom to change into your next outfit. The next one wasn’t nearly as intricate or expensive as the previous; you bought the maid costume in-store at a specialty lingerie boutique for an extortionate price, but the new one you got for cheap off amazon. Still, they both seem to get the job done.

The second one didn’t require half as much struggle to put on either, so within a few minutes, the door to his ensuite cracked open, revealing your supple form in a dainty bunny set. It wasn’t nearly as intricate as the maid lingerie, yet somehow it was far more tantalising. It’s simply a two-piece set: a white seamless boob tube that was semi-transparent, meaning he could see the faint outline of your areola underneath, paired with a complementing pair of white panties. Overall, the only thing that made it ‘bunny-like’ was the fluffy ears you wore, along with the fuzzy tail. 

It’s not particularly astonishing or subversive, but that didn’t stop Kuroo from being totally enraptured by it. By you in that slutty little outfit. He had to bite his lip to contain the lewd comments threatening to spill from his lips. Thankfully, you were too caught up in inspecting your reflection in the mirror, to notice this raging erection that he had given up on trying to hide. “I like it. It’s cute.” You grumbled, shaking your head to test how the ears flop around “But it’s a bit basic. Don’t ya think?” You whip your head around to look at him, and he simply stares back at you.

His head was pounding; the obscene thoughts rushing through his mind were about to cause his nerves to short-circuit. There was just no way of coping with how fucking sexy you look in that bunny set. The white compliments your skin tone so well, and the two-piece means that your perfect waist is on full display for him. The fluffy accents made you appear so innocent and sweet, while the g-string was so skimpy it left your ass hanging out to tempt him, making for delicious contrast. 

There was a beat of silence before he responded, “That one.”

“Hm?” You tilted your head, unsure whether you heard him correctly,

“That one.” He said with a stern resolve. “That’s what you’ll wear in the video.”

You pouted, frantically glancing between him and the mirror, “Ar— Are you sure you don’t want to see the rest of the choices I bro—”

“I’m sure.”

𓆩༒︎𓆪 

The cameras were rolling.

You were sat between Kuroo’s legs on the bed, and your own legs were folded over his, spread as wide as possible so your pantie-clad cunt was on show for the viewers. Your back was pressed against his chest, and you can feel his laboured breaths as he peers over your shoulder at your dripping cunt. It was so wet already, there was a visible damp-spot on the white fabric. 

He snickered at this, and his large hand moved from gripping your thigh to carefully running his middle finger between your folds. You shuddered slightly at his icy touch against your sopping heat, and he chuckled with his lips pressed into your neck — not kissing just yet, just staying close to you. “Wet already, baby?” He teases.

Unsure what to even say to that, you just whimpered a little, opting to focus on the devastatingly slow movement of his finger up and down your clothed slit. He smiled at your cute noises, and rumbled, “Don’t be shy. I like it.”

He couldn’t believe he had you on him. He’d been imagining this moment for so long that it doesn’t quite feel real. But as soon as his hand made contact with your cunt, he started to ground himself. You were so soft against his palm, and your heat penetrated through the fabric of your feeble panties. The more he rubbed you, the damper the fabric became, until eventually it was all drenched and clinging to your folds like a second skin. 

When his palm grinded against your aching clit, you instinctively called out, “Kuroo..” His name lingered in the air as you melted back against his muscled chest. But then it occurred to you that you’re filming content, so you suddenly tense and splutter, “Oh, sorry— I didn’t mean—”

“Shhh. Sh sh sh.” He hushed you reassuringly, lightly circling your clit with one hand while the other placed a finger over your mouth. “The video can be muted. Say whatever you like, sweetie.” He pressed a loving kiss to the slant of your jaw, “Be as loud as you want.”

God, why was he making you feel this way? Butterflies in your stomach all for a man you barely know. Granted, you’ve been watching his content for a while so perhaps you know him a little better than you’d like to admit. Still, there’s no reason for you to be so charmed by him. From the way he’s toying with your clit through your panties and pulling all the desired sounds from you; you were already putty in his hands.

This was only foreplay, so Kuroo chose not to taunt you too much. Just as you were about to start begging for more, Kuroo hooked his fingers under the strip of fabric covering your pussy and peels it off, pulling it to the side of your puffy lips so he had full access to your drooling hole. His finger pressed against your entrance, not penetrating yet but simply basking in your wetness, and as he did this you were probably able to feel his cock throb in his pants, but he was done caring by now. You turned him on, and there was no point in hiding it anymore.

Especially with that impatient hole of yours, practically gnawing at his fingers whenever he threatened to slip inside. “Needy girl.” He rasps against your cheek, “Want more? I bet you do, don’t you?” 

You longingly buck your hips into his hand, seeking more stimulation, and you receive it in the unexpected form, his thumb pressing down harshly on your clit. You whimper at the tortuous sting and halt the movement of your hips, to which Kuroo muses, “You can’t just take whatever you want, baby. Not with me.” His playful tone and doting kisses on your shoulder act in stark contrast to his sharp words, “Don’t be a brat. Ask for it normally.”

His authority and rigour served as a surprise, even to Kuroo. He didn’t expect that he could be so stern with someone he basically worships, but the dominance within him just seemed to leap out automatically. And what shocked him even more was the fact you actually went along with it.  

“Fing—” You stammered. Without thinking, your fingers interlock with his hand that’s stroking thigh. This caused him to freeze momentarily, but you don’t even notice due to the immense pressure on your clit, “Finger me. Please.”

He didn’t reply. Instead, he releases the tension on your clit and plunged two fingers straight into your soaked hole, his middle and ring finger. The hurried entrance results in your walls straining to accommodate him, but soon the pain subsided and you grow fond of the sensation of his two slender digits worming around within your snug walls. “Nggh.. thank you.” You said in a high-pitchen voice, and Kuroo laughed, kissing the back of your neck. “Thank you, baby. You’re so fucking cute.”

It wasn’t long before his hand was piercing your cunt over and over, his digits inserting into you until you're crying wildly into the expanse of his bedroom. On top of your moans, your wet cunt was also so loud that you’re barely able to hear him grumble into your neck, “Love this creamy hole.” That was a censored version of what he actually wanted to say. He wanted to spew a load of shit about how he’s been dreaming of this pretty cunt for months, and how you’re even tighter than he ever could’ve imagined and you’re just so fucking perfect and he never wants this to end and he never wants you to leave him. 

But he couldn’t say all that. Not only because it would paint him as a loser fanboy, but also because he wouldn’t have been able to articulate any of that since he was far too concentrated on drilling into your hole at all the right angles to make you squirt. 

Meanwhile, your fingers were still firmly interlocked with his, and your other hand was balled into a fist on his bedsheets. “Mm.. please.” Your pussy hugged his fingers as the friction against your walls caused a foreboding heat to stir in your abdomen. Truthfully, he wasn’t even going that fast; his pace was moderate and each thrust was gentle. Yet it still drove you fucking crazy. Your head laid against his shoulders and your lips were parted slightly to allow the delirious moans and babbling to pour out. 

Then, without warning, he pulled out of your pussy and to your dismay, he didn’t re-enter. He circled your cunt with his fingers — not even aiming for your clit, just rubbing your entire soft pussy. “Fuck..” You cursed under your breath, internally wallowing at the emptiness. “That felt so good. Why’d you..” Your breathless voice trailed off.

He planted a kiss on your temple and affectionately stroked your leg, “You thought I’d let you finish that easy? Aw, you poor thing.” His hot breath tickled your skin as he chuckled, “Don’t worry about it. I won’t leave you high and dry. C’mon, get on your hands n’ knees for me.”

You pouted, looking down between your legs at the mess he’d made of you. His hands glistened with your slick as he massaged your cunt. Occasionally grazing your clit on purpose, but you seal your lips to prevent him getting the satisfaction of successfully toying with you.

Upon not receiving a response, along with you not following his order, Kuroo followed up with, “Y’know I’m only teasing you cos you’re fun to mess with. You’re a cutie.” He smiled, then sternly patted your thigh, “So, c’mon, get up. Don’t make me ask twice.”

You sighed dramatically and did as he said. Your legs were still a bit limp from earlier, but you were somewhat able to prop yourself up on your hands and knees. Simultaneously, he got up from where he was sat too and positioned himself behind you on his knees, snaking his arms under your abdomen and lifting your rear up until your ass was aligned with his crotch and your back was bent into a lethal arch.

When he was behind you, looking down, he noticed that the pompom tail you wore wasn’t attached to the hips of your panties like he initially assumed. Instead, it was suspended between your ass cheeks, as though it was connected to the string part of your panties. Or maybe it was… 

Fuck. No way you’re doing this to him. His heart skipped a beat at the realisation, and he had to bite down harshly on his lip to contain himself. You’re just a fucking slut, he yelled in his mind. Still, on the outside, he tried to play it cool as usual. His big hand waved over your tail and fidgeted with the white tufts of fur, “Sweet little bunny.” He cooed, then abruptly yanked on your tail. Not with enough force to remove it from your snug asshole, but still enough to make you gasp dramatically. Kuroo snickered at your cute reaction, and leaned down to whisper near your ear, “I’m going to have so much fun with you, baby.”

“Pl— please..” You whimpered out in response. He smiled and patted your ass, but the impact was so harsh it almost felt like a spank. 

He dragged his thumb sloppily across your wet folds, giving your clit a quick pinch, before retracting his hand and saying, “Really think you’re ready for it?” He unzipped his trousers and released his raging erection from the confined of his brief. Thankfully, your cheek was pressed against his duvet so you didn’t see the damp patch from where he was leaking precum. He manoeuvres his tip so he can drag it across your pussy, in between your soft lips and relishing in the way your sticky folds cling to him. 

“I’m ready, Kuroo.” You’re more than ready. You’ve seen his dick hundreds of times in his videos. The incredible size and obscene girth, it’s just perfect. From your doggy-style position, you weren’t able to see it at the moment but you were able to curate a pretty accurate image of his perspective in your mind. His throbbing head teasing your entrance and leaking hot pre into your heat; the two fluids combining to create a filthy mess. “Please fill me up…”

“So desperate, huh? I like it.” He hummed, wasting no time in sinking his length straight into your cunt. It feels just like you imagined: his fat cock stretching your hole, leaving a searing discomfort in your abdomen as he clogged up your insides. It was brutal, it required you to bite into the sheets to cope with the delicious agony of being so fucking full. 

“Aw, too much for you?” He said in the most mocking, faux-sympathetic tone you’ve ever heard. All you’re able to reply with is a staggered, breathy groan, and Kuroo just laughed, “Well, you’re doing great, sweetie.” He smacked your ass slightly, which made you squirm, though you assumed he meant it in a reassuring way, “Somehow you feel even better than you look. Which isn’t easy, cos you look so sexy.” 

His hips rocked into you, dick dragging against your walls in the process. The friction was so addicting, you can’t help but arch back into his length, but he kept you in stationary with a strong hand planted on your hip. “Let me take care of it. Take care of you.” He corrected himself in the most charming tone. One hand idly squeezed your ass while the other rubbed your lower stomach, feeling the bulge disappear and reappear as he slowly slid in and out. “You just stay there and look pretty, okay? That shouldn’t be too hard for you.” It’s like you could hear the smirk in his voice.

“Mkay..” You murmured, eyes fluttering shut and you grew fond of the steady rhythm of his cock. It was moderate at first but it wasn’t long before it devolved into something fiercer. Soon, his hips were slamming into yours at a delirious rate, and your pussy was being stretched out repeatedly, forced to accommodate his ridiculous girth over and over. It was intoxicating, and you were melting further into the sheets with each sharp thrust.

“Kuroo!” You squealed, pussy twitching around his cock as you spoke. “Nggh! Pl—please, you’re too big..” The words shot from your mouth in tandem with each bump of his tip against your cervix. You’re not even sure what you were asking for more or mercy; just that you need to let him know how good he was making you feel. “Shit, it hurts so much but please don’t stop.” You said as though it was one word.

“I won’t, baby.” He huffed, but he couldn’t tell if you heard him. He was embarrassingly breathless; not because of the energy it took to keep plowing into you, but rather, because this is everything he’s ever dreamed of and he’s nervous. Like woah, it’s really your pussy that’s gripping the fuck out of his cock right now. The girl he’s been fantasising about for months is now laid out doggy-style on his bed, how’s that happened? And what is he supposed to do?

Well, he had no choice. The only thing he could do now was give you the best orgasm of your life. 

Your ass bounced lewdly with each furious thrust into your hole, and Kuroo was fixated on it, watching the movement intently. Mindlessly, his hand that was previously caressing your ass moved to that little fuzzy tail that was still taunting him. He gave it a tug and revels in your flustered reaction; especially appreciating how your pussy would clench around him. He tugged on it again, this time using his spare hand to speak your cheeks so he can see where the metal pokes out of your restrictive hole. “You like it when I do that?” 

No response. Besides guttural moans and whiny curses. Seems like he’s already fucked you dumb, which is a good sign, considering he’s teetering on an orgasm as it is. Truthfully, it’s a miracle he’s lasted this long in your presence. He’s been sporting an erection since you entered his home. Plus, he’s got a prime view of your ass jiggling against his cock, and your tight cunt swallowing him whole; two extremely arousing sights.

Similarly, you may have thought your high from before had subsided, but parts of it were still lingering in your abdomen and were reignited as soon as he started to pick up the pace. Now, your foamy pussy was basically screaming his name, as your stomach churned with delight. “ ‘m right there, shit. Mmmph, please take me.” Your eyes rolled back in your head, and a pool of saliva was welling at the side of your mouth that was pressed against his bedsheets. Not your finest moment, but he couldn’t see your face and neither could the views, so you didn’t care. “Kuroo! I need you so bad— Fuck, help me, please.”

His hips were crashing against yours and causing your cute ass to bounce each time, but he wouldn’t let himself be distracted by it this time. He was fully committed to rearranging your guts and focusing on your pleasure, as emphasised by his fingers that made their way to your clit to start tracing sloppy, unstable circles. Along with one of his hands that reached down to grab your calves that would keep kicking into the air. 

His efforts weren’t in vain, as the sizzling heat in your stomach eventually erupted to consume your whole form. An all-encompassing bliss that possessed your body for a few seconds. Your pussy spasmed uncontrollably and it’s like you lost yourself to your climax for a short while. Your toes curled in ecstasy, and your mouth was hanging wide open but all that came out was a few choppy moans, “Aa— Aah— Nghh—” Each one higher in pitch than the former. 

It was music to Kuroo’s ears. And what you didn’t realise, was that he continued using your pussy throughout the duration of your high. Dick ramming into you repeatedly, which you assumed he was doing for the benefit of your pleasure, fucking you all the way through your orgasm so you get experience it to the fullest extent. However, he was only thrusting into you for his own sake, since he still hadn’t climaxed, for some reason. 

It was irritating because he was right there. Dancing on the edge. The delay started to worry him too because what if he never finished and not only will the video be ruined, but you’ll probably leave thinking that you're not adequate, or something crazy like that. Which couldn’t be further from the truth; you’re perfect. Subconsciously, this overthinking suppressed his orgasm even more.

And you could feel his frustration growing with each thrust. While you were relishing in a post-orgasmic haze, his hips kept rutting and rutting against your poor spent pussy. Like he was angry at it or something. “Shit. What is this.” He tossed his head back and cursed at the ceiling, while holding your calf with nails digging into your skin, “Baby..”

But then it came; the hot wave of euphoria he’d been waiting for. It overcame him in the best way possible, and his eyebrows furrowed together and he submitted to his climax. His cock throbbed as he spurted his seed into your homey walls, filling you with the most lewdly saturated sensation. “That’s it, slut.” He smacked you on the ass, causing you to jolt, “Take it all like a good girl. Hm.”

Eventually, once the high had died down, he pulled out of your slippery cunt. He gave his cock a couple lazy pumps, swearing any extra ejaculation across your folds and soiled panties. He smiled at the filthy view and mumbled, “For fucks sake.”

𓆩༒︎𓆪 

The video had to undergo some editing. Namely, cropping his head out of frame and removing every instance in which you uttered his name. But that video performed the best out of any other content that either of you have ever released. You could say it went ‘viral’ in the NSFW twitter-sphere. You both raked in so many new followers and so much cash from that video, it was surreal. 

Needless to say, there will certainly be more collaborations between the two of you in the future. Purely for monetary purposes, of course, nothing deeper than that. Nope. Definitely no underlying feelings of obsession for each other; just two semi-professionals, making porn together.

[viennajoell]

Ridiculous Together

Summary: Jack Hughes secretly changes his outfit to match his girlfriend’s

Word Count: 370

Warnings: none;)

A/N: thank you to my lovely @ruinix for this idea!!

Jack pretended to be rummaging through his backpack, head ducked, one ear tilted toward the sound of you moving around the apartment. He could hear the familiar rustle of athletic fabric, the zip of your gym bag, and—if he tilted his head far enough—your reflection in the hallway mirror.

Aero blue Swiftly Tech. Navy leggings. Hair in a clean ponytail.

Perfect.

He smirked to himself. Not that he was trying to be that boyfriend who matched his girlfriend’s fit…but also, yeah, he totally was. And you weren’t going to catch him in the act.

He slipped quietly back into the bedroom, tossing the plain gray tee he’d already pulled on into the laundry basket. From the drawer, he grabbed his aero-blue Nike top, the one you’d once said made his eyes look “unfairly nice,” and paired it with navy shorts.

Perfect. No one would know.

He emerged casually, water bottle in hand, like he hadn’t just gone full stealth mode in his own house.

You looked up from zipping your bag, eyes narrowing instantly. “Wait—”

“What?” Jack asked, feigning confusion as he reached for his keys.

“You—” You glanced between his shirt, his shorts, and your own outfit. “You changed.”

Jack tilted his head innocently. “Did I?”

“Uh, yeah,” you said, biting back a smile. “You were in a gray shirt two seconds ago.”

He shrugged like it was no big deal. “It was in the laundry pile anyway. This one’s clean. And comfy.”

You gave him that knowing look—the one that made him feel like you could read his brain as easily as a scoreboard. “You just wanted to match me.”

Jack’s mouth twitched into a grin, caught but not embarrassed. “Maybe I like when we look like a power couple walking into the gym. Ever think of that?”

You shook your head, amused, and pushed past him toward the door. “You’re ridiculous.”

“Yeah,” he said, swinging the gym bag over his shoulder and following after you. “But now we’re ridiculous together.”

And as you walked side by side toward the car, his hand brushed yours, both of you in perfect shades of aero blue and navy—like you’d planned it all along.

(Well… at least one of you had.)

[tsukiusagi180]

Jax x reader

summery: a normal couple's argument, but the couple argues with a gun?

Orders are open!

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"I probably move on"

OuchIt's hurt so much.Especially when it comes from your boyfriend. Jax looked like a real mess right now, his eyes were wide, maybe even too wide, and his gaze was blank.

"Will you forget me? I'm your girlfriend!"

your blood was hot and you were extremely upset, first Jax was your boyfriend, then you were a team for every game and oh did I forget to mention he was your boyfriend?

"Do you think you're special (Y/n) that you're better than Pomni Ragatha or Gangle?"

this time he came closer to you by lowering himself at your height, he approached dangerously, making you step back while his finger tapped your chest.

"You're just a pawn like the others."

"So you're going to forget me like him?"

Fixed Jax is frozen at your comment How dare you talk about him like that? No need for a name to know who you were talking about, we understood perfectly well.

"You act like he never existed, it took you months to acknowledge his existence and tell me about it. Are you going to do the same for me?"

"(Y/n)"

His tone was a warning, you knew you were going too far. You were worse than Jax at that precise moment. But you didn't stop, maybe because everything was getting blurry around you or your heart was breaking?

Who knows?

"Was he your boyfriend like me or just a toy?

Boum.

You looked at him, the gun in his hand. He had won. Very well. You appeared in the losers' room, along with the others. Then finally the ceremony began. You went to sit alone, not far from Ragatha and Pomni. But alone, you watched Jax. You were focused until Caine called your name for a price, you had to look away and when your eyes landed on him again.

Gone

Your blood boiled before you got up and started running around looking for him in the building.

"JAX !"

"shit where was he?"

You were still angry with him, but he was more important than that anger. You were afraid he would ignore it. You finally looked for the toilet and then you saw him.He was standing on the sink, breathing heavily and everything seemed blurry to him, his pupils were blurred. You didn't know what to do so you slowly moved closer, hugging him.You knew it wasn't a miracle solution, you weren't going to calm him down by magic, but if at least you could try

"Jax i'm so sorry..."

"Tch you're pathetic dollface

"He was back, your Jax.

"About earlier Jax, I'm sorry I didn't mean to push you too hard!"

you felt your eyes getting wet,you couldn't afford to be pathetic in front of him no... and yet he was your boyfriend

"Hey"

he hugged you hesitantly at first, then more forcefully

"I love you, I think... I'm scared.."

You were surprised by his confession, it was obvious he was scared. You had understood it for a long time but hearing him say he was scared was something else entirely.

"Jax, it's okay, you have the right, it's... human."

"pff yeah human"

You smiled at him in response before leaning your head towards his for a kiss. It was the best one you could have, and certainly the last.