#prompt: giving permission to die

[serickswrites]

Falling Stars

Warnings: captivity, torture, restraints, forced to watch, blood, wounds, infection, mcd

Caretaker carded their fingers through Whumpee's sweat soaked hair. They had pulled Whumpee into their lap hours ago and had tried to offer Whumpee any measure of comfort, no matter how small.

It was the least they could do.

They had sat chained in a corner for days, watching Whumper torture Whumpee. Begging Whumper to give Whumpee a break and hurt them. Hoping that rescue would come soon and they would both be spared.

But as the days wore on and the blood dried on Whumpee's skin and Whumper re-opened every wound, Caretaker began to doubt. They began to doubt help was coming. They began to doubt Whumper would hurt them. And they began to doubt that Whumpee would survive.

Some of Whumpee's wounds still bled from Whumper's last visit. Some wounds oozed and wept. And some were so deep that Caretaker was certain Whumpee was dying. And soon.

"You......you need to......get out of here, C'ta'r," Whumpee managed to rasp out. "G-G-G-Go outttttt th-th-th-the wwwwwwinnnnndow-ow-ow-ow."

"I'm not leaving you," Caretaker said as they stared down into Whumpee's fever bright eyes. "Just rest a bit longer. We'll find a way to get both of us out of here." Caretaker blinked hard, fighting against the tears that were always present in their eyes. They looked away as they tried to blink away the tears. The starry night's sky winked at them from out the window.

Whumpee smiled softly. "I.....I don't th-th-think sssso-o-o-o-o."

"Nonsense. Just rest more. Rest and then I'll take you home. You can rest more. You can heal. And maybe....maybe you will be all better by the time all those falling stars happen around your birthday. We could watch them again."

"I'd.....like th-th-that."

"Just rest, Whumpee. Close your eyes. I'm not going anywhere."

"C-C-Can'ttttt l-l-l-leave yyyyyyou-ou-ou."

Caretaker's heart twinged. "It's ok. I'm not going anywhere. You're not going anywhere. Just rest, Whumpee. I'll watch over you."

Reluctantly, Whumpee closed their eyes. Caretaker knew that no amount of rest was going to make Whumpee well enough. But they couldn't give up hope. They couldn't let Whumpee die. Not yet. There had to be a way for both of them to get out.

But as time wore on and Whumpee got weaker and weaker, Caretaker realized that Whumpee was holding on, was prolonging their suffering, to spare Caretaker the heart ache.

Whumper had dragged Whumpee from their arms countless times. Whumper had beaten and tortured Whumpee countless times. And Whumper had left Whumpee barely alive and breathing on the floor countless times.

But this time was different.

Whumpee hadn't stirred when the cell door slammed shut. They hadn't stirred when Caretaker called to them. Normally Whumpee slowly dragged themself close enough that Caretaker could pull them into Caretaker's lap. But this time they just lay there and breathed.

"Whumpee," Caretaker called softly. "Say something, Whumpee."

Whumpee groaned. "T-T-Tiredddd. H-H-Hurrrrrttts-s-s-s-s."

"I know. I know, Whumpee. Let me hold you. You've always slept better in my arms. Come on, Whumpee."

Caretaker stretched to the end of their chain, their fingertips just brushing Whumpee's arm. Whumpee moaned as they tried to roll onto their side. Blood had pooled beneath them and the ground was slick. Whumpee was too weak to pull themself along.

"Love, come on, you can do it."

Slowly, painfully, Whumpee rolled onto their side. They managed to push themself with one leg close enough to Caretaker that Caretaker could pull them close. Whumpee gasped with pain as Caretaker moved them, their eyes wide and bright with pain.

"Sorry, sorry, sorry! I'm sorry!" Caretaker repeated over and over.

Whumpee didn't respond as their chest heaved weakly. They lay in Caretaker's arms, but couldn't get enough air to speak. Their eyes were hazy with pain. Their eyelids fluttered open and closed as they struggled to remain conscious.

"I'm sorry, Whumpee. I'm sorry," Caretaker sobbed. They pressed their forehead to Whumpee's. "It's ok. It's ok. You can leave me. It's ok. I'll be ok. I promise."

Whumpee blinked up at Caretaker, their eyes suddenly clear. Caretaker nodded. "It's ok. You can rest. You can leave me. I'll be ok. I promise I'll be ok. You can," Caretaker sniffed, "you can go, Whumpee. I'm here. I won't leave you."

Whumpee's stuttering wheezing breaths echoed in Caretaker's ears. They opened their mouth, but no sound came out. "It's ok, Whumpee. It's ok. I love you. You're ok, love. I'll be ok."

Slowly, Whumpee's eyes closed. Their body slowly relaxed in Caretaker's arms. Their stuttering breaths continued as Caretaker watched Whumpee relax. A light flashed in the darkened cell. Caretaker looked up and out the window. Stars. The stars were falling out the window.

"The falling stars are here, Whumpee, look," Caretaker said as they returned their gaze to Whumpee. Their mouth went dry. "Whumpee?"

Whumpee looked peaceful, as though they were asleep, their face no longer pinched with pain. But Caretaker knew better. "Oh, Whumpee," Caretaker wailed, "I am so sorry. I'm sorry."

Whumpee flopped bonelessly in Caretaker's arms as Caretaker lifted Whumpee close. They rocked with Whumpee's body as they sobbed. Whumpee was free. Whumpee had gone. Whumpee had left Caretaker behind. Whumpee had gone where Caretaker could not follow. Whumpee was with the falling stars. And Caretaker was alone.

Tags: @mousepaw @jumpywhumpywriter @knightinbatteredarmor @hufflepuffwritingstuff2 @anightmarishwhump

@steh-lar-uh-nuhs @celestialsoyeon @st0rmm @ay5ksal @pedro-pedro-pedro-pedro-pe

@artisticdemon

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

Danse Macabre

[Commission]

[whumptober]

WHUMPTOBER 2024: PROMPTS LIST

Welcome to Whumptober 2024 — Seventh Time's a Charm!

Please make sure to read the Event Info and FAQ below carefully, as most of your questions will be answered there already. For everything else, you are welcome to come to our ask box or ask questions in our Discord server here.

This year’s AO3 Collection can be found here.

This year's playlist can be found here.

The 'Anatomy of a Whumptober Prompt' post can be found here.

And our 'Resources for Writing Sensitive Topics' post is here.

We’re very excited to see the community come together for another year of Whumptober! Go wild with the prompts, and support your fellow creators - we wish you all the fun!

Best of luck and happy whumping,

Mods Vanne, Yenn, Kitty and Surro

(Text versions of the prompts, as well as event information, rules and FAQ are posted below the cut!)

Whumptober 2024 Prompt List

No. 1: RACE AGAINST THE CLOCK

Search Party | Panic Attack | "If only we could hold on.” (Icysami x Renegaderr, Strangers.)

No. 2: TRUST ISSUES

Amusement Park | Role Reversal | “You got away with the crime while the knife's in my back.” (Charlotte Sands, Rollercoaster)

No. 3: SET UP FOR FAILURE

Fingerprints | Wrongfully Arrested | "I warned you."

No. 4: HALLUCINATIONS

Hypnosis | Sensory Deprivation | “You're still alive in my head.” (Billy Lockett, More)

No. 5: SUNBURN

Healing Salve | Heatstroke | "If my pain will stretch that far." (Lottery Winners, Burning House)

No. 6: NOT REALISING THEY'RE INJURED

Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms | Healed Wrong | "It's not my blood."

No. 7: ONLY FOR EMERGENCIES

Unconventional Weapon | Magic with a Cost | "It's us or them."

No. 8: SLEEP DEPRIVATION

Isolation Chamber | Forced to Stay Awake | "Leave the lights on." (Coldplay, Midnight)

No. 9: OBSESSION

Broken Window | Bruises | “Frame me up on the wall, just to keep me out of trouble.” (Fall Out Boy, Irresistible)

No. 10: BLOW TO THE HEAD

Slurred Words | Passing Out from Pain | "I can't think straight."

No. 11: SEEING DOUBLE

Convenience Store | Loneliness | “Leave no trace behind, like you don't even exist.” (Taylor Swift, Illicit Affairs)

No. 12: STARVATION

Underground Caverns | Cannibalism | "Just a little more."

No. 13: TEAM AS A FAMILY

Familial Curse | Multiple Whumpees | "Death will do us part." (Set It Off, Partner's In Crime)

No. 14: LEFT FOR DEAD

Hunting Gear | Blackmail | “Because I want you to know what it feels like to be haunted” (tiLLie, kooL aiD mAn)

No. 15: CHILDHOOD TRAUMA

Painful Hug | Moment of Clarity | "I did good, right?"

No. 16: NECROSIS

Swamp | Wound Cleaning | "No, I can't feel anything."

No. 17: NOWHERE ELSE TO GO

Ruined Map | Shipwrecked | "We had a good run."

No. 18: REVENGE

Unreliable Narrator | Loss of Identity | “I see what's mine and take it.” (Panic! at the Disco, Emperor's New Clothes)

No. 19: BLOOD TRAIL

Abandoned Cabin | One Way Out | "Is there anybody alive out there?" (Bruce Springsteen, Radio Nowhere)

No. 20: EMOTIONAL ANGST

Shoulder to Cry On | Giving Permission to Die | "It's not your fault."

No. 21: BODY HORROR

Body Horror | Tattoo Gun | Spirit Possession | “Let the bedsheet soak up the tears.” (Apparat feat. Soap & Skin, Goodbye)

No. 22: BLEEDING THROUGH BANDAGES

Tourniquet | Reopening Wounds | "Oh that's not good."

No. 23: FORCED CHOICE

Public Display | Broken Pedestal | "I'm doing this for you."

No. 24: RADIATION POISONING

Collapsed Building | Equipment Failure | “I never knew daylight could be so violent.” (Florence + The Machine, No Light, No Light)

No. 25: SURGERY

Stitches | Being Monitored | "It's for your own good."

No. 26: NIGHTMARES

Breakfast Table | Parting Words of Regret | “I'm haunted by the lies that I have loved, the actions I have hated.” (Poe, Haunted)

No. 27: VOICELESS

Laboratory | Muzzled | “I have no mouth and I must scream.”

No. 28: DENIAL

CCTV | Exposure | "They caught me red handed."

No. 29: FATIGUE

Labyrinth | Burnout | "Who said you could rest?"

No. 30: RECOVERY

Hospital Bed | Holding Back Tears | "What have I done?"

No. 31: ASKING FOR HELP

Therapy | Making Amends | "I'm alive, I'm just not well." (Elliot Lee, Alive, Not Well.)

Alternatives List:

Body Swap

Communication Barrier

Finding Old Messages

Forgotten

Friendly Fire

Motion Sickness

No-Holds-Barred Beatdown

Regret

Secrets Revealed

Shivering

Survivor's Guilt

Time Loop

Used As Bait

Venom

Vermin

Event Info & Rules

WHUMPTOBER is a month-long, prompt-based creation challenge (think: Inktober, but whumpier). There are 31 official themes this year - one for each day of the month - which can be used, skipped, or combined in any way you’d like. They are meant to serve as inspiration without being taken literally (e.g. you don’t have to include the exact wording of prompts into your work). Feel free to run rampant on interpretation. For example, if the prompt is “flame", you could create something with reference to a candle/campfire, your character could have suffered a burn, or the flame could be a reference to an ‘old flame’ - an old relationship. It’s truly down to you!

In total, there are 4 prompts for each day. These are optional suggestions and can be used in conjunction with the theme, or as options/alternatives.  We want to give everyone as much creative freedom as possible, as well as increase event accessibility for folks with triggers and squicks. There is also a list of 15 alternative prompts that can be subbed in for any day, again to give participants as much creative freedom as possible.

Creators can PRODUCE work in any media they choose, including but not limited to: writing, visual artwork, photo/video/audio edits, paper crafts and elaborate recommendation lists (not just a list of links). Creators can PARTICIPATE as much or as little as they want (i.e. you don’t have to do ALL the prompts if you don’t want to) and prompts can be used in any order. They are also free to use even after the event ends.

When uploading Whumptober content to your blog, be sure to tag it with:

#whumptober2024 …..(the event tag)

#no.1, #no.2, #no.3, …..(theme number)

#bruises, #stabbing, …..(the theme or specific prompt you chose)

#altprompt …..(if you use an altprompt, tag the post with the number of the prompt you replace)

#fandom or #OC, …..(ironman, original content, oc, etc.)

#medium …..(gifs, fic, podcast, art, etc.)

#teeth, #etc …..(trigger warnings & any additional tags. Keep in mind not to add “tw” in front but only use the word/trigger itself)

#nsfwhump …..(only for nsfw content)

#your own tags go here

PLEASE BE DILIGENT WITH YOUR TAGGING. Only properly tagged posts are considered for archiving on the official @whumptober-archive blog. They must be tagged in the order above. An elaborate post about our tagging system can be found [here]

Unfortunately, due to the sheer number of participants in recent years, we cannot guarantee your work will be archived. A random selection of properly tagged posts from all genres will be reblogged each day.

Whumpers who produce content for 31 total theme days are considered event completionists and will be tagged in a masterpost at the end of the month. A form will be published at the beginning of November asking you to tell us if you completed. This is based on trust and we will not check this.

Frequently Asked Questions

Please read this before you send an ask!

TIMELINE

July: Trope voting form released. Late August: Prompt list is released for at least four weeks of preparation time. Tropes cannot be posted earlier than August 25th because of Moderator obligations in real life. (But, you know, go ahead and start writing/drawing, and add the themes in later, if you want!) September: Do as much or as little on your works as you want. You can prepare everything in advance or let September go by with vibes and start working in October. It’s up to you. October 1st: Challenge begins! A storm of whump breaks upon us all! During this time, some posts will be reblogged to the whumptober archive blog. We open the yearly AO3 collection for posting (optional). November 1st: The challenge is officially over! Completionist form opens for those who want to be included in the hall-of-fame. Early November: We release completionist and participant badges, solicit feedback, and post a hall-of-fame list of completionists by the 10th.

PARTICIPATION AND COMPLETION

Q: What counts as participation? Create or continue at least one work inspired by one of this year’s prompts. Q: What counts as completion? Creating work(s) inspired by at least one prompt from each day (or alts), for a total of 31 unique prompts. Q: Do I need to create 31 works? No. You can, if you want. Or you can create one work that you add to every day with a new prompt. Or several works that combine prompts. You can also update an existing work by adding new material with the current prompts. Q: Do I need to post my works somewhere to be a completionist or a participant? No. Q: How do you know I actually completed the challenge? We’ll take your word for it! Q: Do I have to finish my work(s) to be a completionist? No, you can post WIPs. And you’re not obligated to finish them in October, but if you want it to count towards being a completionist, you must have completed 31 prompts by the end of the month. So for example, if you’re writing a long fic and you fit 31 different prompts into the writing you did in October, it’s okay if that fic isn’t finished by the time October ends, you’ll still be a completionist. Q: Is co-writing/illustrating allowed? Yes, absolutely, and it would count towards being a completionist for both/all of you. Q: Is there a min/max limit on word count for written works? No. Q: Is there a min/max limit of quality for art? No. Q: Do I have to do something each day to be a completionist? No. You can skip days whenever you want, and as long as 31 daily prompts (or alts) are in your works done in October, you can be a completionist. For example, if you wrote a 1000-word ficlet that covers prompts in days 2, 3, and 17, you can check all three days off your list even though it’s only one work. Q: Is this challenge just for fics? No! Artworks, GIFsets, headcannons, rec lists, poetry, moodboards, or any other creative work is encouraged. Q: Can I combine Whumptober with other creation challenges? Absolutely, as long as the other challenges allow it too.

PROMPTS

Q: How do the prompts work? There are FOUR prompts per day: a theme and three ideas. You can use one, two, three, or all four prompts for each day. If you don’t like any of the daily prompts, you can substitute one of the ALT prompts instead. Q: How strictly/literally should we interpret the prompts? As literally or as figuratively as you want. For example, if the theme is WATER, that could mean drowning, waterboarding, raining, swimming, take place underwater, be lost at sea, construct a metaphor about a character’s mood that changes like a flowing river, crying, or whatever else you can think of that fits that theme. Q: Can I combine prompts? Is there a limit on how many? No limit and combine as many as you’d like. If you create a work that checks off multiple prompts, that work will count for a fill of multiple prompts. You need to address 31 different prompts to be an official completionist, but you don’t have to produce 31 separate works.

WORKS

Q: What’s whump? Hurting a character, whether that’s physically, emotionally, intellectually, psychologically, or any other way you can think of. Comfort afterwards is optional. Angst is emotional whump, so it counts. Q: How do I know if it’s whumpy enough? If your character is just mildly inconvenienced, it probably needs more whump. However, no participant has to prove whumpiness to the mods. Whatever you write is up to you. Q: What kind of characters can I create for? Anything. Generic “whumpee,” OC, PC, NPC, major characters, minor characters, or whatever you want. There are no limits. Q: Does it have to take place in a specific fandom? No, you can create works for your own worlds or for fandoms or for both. You can also create more generic or pan-fandom works. You can do cross-overs or use OCs, whatever you want. Q: Can I create AI-created works? We will not reblog or promote any works we know to be generative AI-created. Q: Is there anything we’re not allowed to write? As long as it contains whump and is based on our prompts, it’s fine. Please courtesy tag your works if you post them so people who follow the #whumptober2024 tag can filter according to their preferences. Q: What about sex, minor characters, and potentially disturbing content? You can create whatever works are legal in your country and post them accordingly. Please courtesy tag anything you think might be objectionable if you post to Tumblr so people who follow the #whumptober2024 tag can filter according to their preferences.

POSTING

Q: Where can I post my work? Post where and how you want. You don’t even have to (cross)post it to Tumblr. Just keep in mind if it’s not on Tumblr we will not be able to add it to the blog archive. There is an AO3 archive for Whumptober 2024, as well as the parent collection for works completed outside of the event. Q: Can I start posting early? You can, but this is an October event and wouldn’t it be more fun with everyone doing it at the same time? We won’t be reblogging any work predating October 1st. Q: Can I post late? Yes. For the sake of our hardworking Post Fairies, only a day’s themes will be reblogged to @whumptober-archive each day of October. But you can post whenever. Some of us are still working on and posting Whumptober fics from years ago. Q: Do I have to use your tags? Only on Tumblr and only if you want us to reblog your work on @whumptober-archive. Q: How do I have my works reblogged to the archive? Properly tagged posts will be reblogged to @whumptober-archive. If you want the official archive blog to reblog you, post on Tumblr and tag correctly (see this FAQ link for more info on tagging). Please note not all posts will be reblogged each day. Q: Can we @ you? For questions and comments, of course. We’ll be getting a flood of notifications, so if you really want us to see something send an ask. Q: Can I cross post on other blogs? Yes, multiple platforms and blogs are perfectly acceptable, as long as they allow cross-posting (to us). You can also post different works to different accounts under different names, without posting them everywhere at once. If you post some works under your main and others under an alt blog, that’s fine for completionist purposes. Q: Can I upload/repost my Whumptober content to other social media platforms? Of course! We’ve created an AO3 Collection to archive any fics posted there, which can be found here. The blog is the official archive, so please respect the personal boundaries of any whumpers in your social circle (don’t out anyone as a participant who would prefer not to be outed).

Most importantly, have fun, create, and enjoy all the whump posted this October!

[pucksandpower]

Better Than Melatonin

Kinktober Day 1 → Cockwarming 💋 Toto Wolff

Warnings: 18+ content

Kinktober Masterlist

The room is dark, lit only by the dim, golden glow from the bedside lamp. Toto sits on the edge of the bed, watching you as you toss and turn. The sheets tangle around your legs, and your face is scrunched up in frustration.

“Can’t sleep?” He asks, his voice low, almost a rumble.

You freeze for a second, not expecting him to still be awake. “I’m fine,” you reply, though it’s clear that you’re anything but.

Toto raises an eyebrow, the barest hint of a smirk tugging at his lips. “You’ve been moving around for the last hour. You’re not fine.”

You sigh, running a hand through your hair. “I don’t know … I just can’t seem to get comfortable.”

He doesn’t respond immediately, just continues to watch you, eyes narrowed as if he’s trying to figure something out. It’s unnerving, the way he studies you, as if you’re a puzzle he’s determined to solve. Finally, he speaks, his voice a deep, soothing timbre.

“Come here.”

You hesitate, unsure of what he’s planning. “Toto, I don’t-”

“Come here,” he repeats, more insistent this time. There’s a tone in his voice that makes it clear he’s not going to take no for an answer.

Reluctantly, you scoot closer to him, feeling the mattress dip under his weight. He’s so much larger than you, a wall of muscle and authority, and yet, there’s something undeniably comforting about his presence.

You rest your head on his chest, his steady heartbeat thrumming beneath your ear. For a moment, the world seems to settle, the chaos in your mind quieting down just a little.

But then you shift, trying to find a position that doesn’t feel so … awkward.

“You’re still tense,” he murmurs, his hand coming to rest on your hip.

You nod, biting your lip. “I guess … I guess I’m just not used to this.”

“This?” He prompts, his hand sliding up your side, his fingers trailing along your skin in a way that sends shivers down your spine.

“Sharing a bed,” you admit, your voice barely more than a whisper. “With someone like you.”

“Someone like me?” He echoes, and there’s a hint of amusement in his tone.

You huff, frustrated by your own inability to explain. “You know what I mean. You’re … you’re Toto Wolff. And I’m just … me.”

He chuckles, the sound vibrating through your entire body. “You’re not just anything, Häschen.” His hand cups your chin, tilting your head up so you’re forced to meet his gaze. His eyes are dark, intense, and for a moment, you feel like you’re drowning in them. “You’re mine.”

The words send a thrill through you, a mix of excitement and nerves. “Toto …”

“Shh,” he hushes you, his thumb brushing over your lower lip. “Relax. Let me take care of you.”

You want to argue, to tell him that you’re fine, that you don’t need him to take care of you, but the words die on your tongue as he shifts, his body pressing you into the mattress. There’s no urgency in his movements, no rush, just a slow, deliberate claiming of space. His hands are everywhere, warm and sure, and before you know it, he’s positioned himself between your legs.

Your breath catches in your throat as you realize what he’s doing. “Toto, wait, I-”

“Trust me,” he murmurs, his voice a low growl. “I’m not going to hurt you.”

He’s so close now, his breath hot against your ear as he whispers, “Tell me if you want me to stop.”

But you don’t want him to stop. You want this, want him, even though you’re still nervous, still unsure. There’s something about the way he touches you, the way he looks at you, that makes you feel like you’re the only person in the world.

So you nod, giving him permission without words. He understands, of course he does, and slowly, carefully, he presses into you, filling you in a way that makes your mind go blissfully blank.

You gasp, your hands gripping his shoulders as he settles deep inside you. He’s so big, so overwhelming, but it’s not painful. It’s just … intense.

“Easy,” he soothes, brushing a strand of hair away from your face. “Breathe.”

You do as he says, focusing on the rise and fall of your chest, the steady rhythm of your breathing. He stays still, just holding you, filling you, and somehow, that’s enough to calm the frantic thoughts racing through your mind.

After a moment, he pulls back just enough to look at you, his expression softening in a way that you don’t think you’ve ever seen before. “Better?”

You nod again, feeling a little dazed. “Yeah … better.”

“Good,” he says, leaning down to press a kiss to your forehead. “Now sleep.”

You blink up at him, confused. “Sleep? Like this?”

“Exactly like this,” he replies, a smirk playing at the corners of his mouth. “I’m not going anywhere.”

The idea of falling asleep like this, with him still inside you, is strange and yet … comforting. It’s as if he’s claiming you in a way that’s both physical and emotional, a silent promise that he’s not going to let you go.

“Okay,” you whisper, your body relaxing against him. “I’ll try.”

“That’s all I ask,” he murmurs, his lips brushing against your temple.

You close your eyes, focusing on the steady rhythm of his breathing, the warmth of his body surrounding you. Slowly, the tension drains from your muscles, your mind drifting into a pleasant haze. It’s strange, but for the first time in what feels like forever, you feel safe. Safe and … loved.

Toto doesn’t move, just holds you, his hand resting on your hip, his thumb tracing slow circles against your skin. You can feel him still inside you, a constant, grounding presence that lulls you into a sense of peace.

“Sleep, Häschen,” he whispers again, and this time, you don’t fight it.

You let yourself drift, the world fading away until there’s nothing left but the steady beat of his heart and the feeling of him, warm and solid, holding you close.

***

The soft, rhythmic click of the keyboard echoes through the dimly lit room. Toto’s office is a sanctuary of sleek modernity — glass, steel, and leather, with the subtle hum of computers creating a low, constant backdrop.

His eyes are glued to the screen, sharp and focused, his mind immersed in the layers of data that demand his attention. But despite the intensity of his work, he’s aware of the time — late, far too late for you to be awake.

And yet, there’s a soft creak of the door opening behind him, barely perceptible but enough to make him pause, his hands hovering over the keyboard. He glances up, his eyes narrowing as they adjust to the sight of you standing in the doorway, hesitant and small in the oversized t-shirt you’ve borrowed from him.

“Häschen?” His voice is gentle, but there’s an edge of concern. “What are you doing up?”

You shift on your feet, unsure how to explain. Your eyes are heavy with exhaustion, but there’s something else there too — a need, something unspoken but clear in the way you linger in the doorway. “I … I couldn’t sleep.”

Toto sighs, his expression softening as he leans back in his chair, taking in the sight of you. You look so vulnerable, standing there with your arms wrapped around yourself, as if you’re trying to ward off some unseen cold. He knows exactly why you can’t sleep — why you’ve been struggling on nights when he’s not in bed beside you.

“Come here,” he says, his tone a mixture of command and tenderness.

You hesitate, still unsure, but the pull is too strong. Slowly, you pad across the room, the cold hardwood floor making you shiver as you approach him.

Toto watches you carefully, his gaze never leaving yours as you finally reach his desk. He reaches out, taking your hand and pulling you closer until you’re standing between his legs, his warmth already seeping into you.

“Why didn’t you tell me you were having trouble sleeping?” He asks, his voice low as his hand comes up to caress your cheek.

“I didn’t want to bother you,” you murmur, your eyes downcast. “I know you’re busy.”

He frowns at that, his thumb brushing against your lower lip in a gesture that’s become all too familiar. “You’re never a bother to me, Häschen. You should know that by now.”

You nod, but it’s clear you’re still holding back, your body tense despite his reassuring words. “I just … I can’t sleep without you.”

The admission hangs in the air between you, heavy with the weight of your vulnerability. Toto’s eyes soften, a mix of pride and concern flashing through them as he pulls you closer, his hands firm on your hips. “You need me that much, hm?”

You bite your lip, embarrassed but unable to deny it. “I guess I do.”

His response is immediate. Without a word, he lifts you effortlessly, turning you so that you’re perched on his lap, your legs straddling his hips.

You let out a small gasp, your hands instinctively gripping his shoulders as he settles you against him. The warmth of his body, the solid feel of him beneath you, it all works to ease some of the tension from your muscles, but it’s not enough.

Toto seems to understand, his hands sliding under the hem of your shirt, finding purchase on your bare skin. He doesn’t rush, doesn’t push, just holds you there, his fingers tracing lazy patterns along your spine. “Tell me what you need, Häschen.”

You close your eyes, leaning into him, feeling the steady rise and fall of his chest against yours. It’s a simple request, but it’s one that fills you with an odd mixture of longing and shame. “I need … I need you.”

His grip tightens ever so slightly, a reassuring pressure that grounds you. “I’m right here.”

“No,” you shake your head, your voice barely above a whisper. “I need you … like before.”

Toto’s hands still on your back, and for a moment, you wonder if you’ve pushed too far. But then, he shifts, his hand coming up to cup your chin, tilting your face so that you’re forced to meet his gaze. “You want me to fill you, Häschen? Is that what you need?”

There’s no judgment in his tone, only understanding and a deep, unyielding care that makes your heart ache. You nod, feeling a tear slip down your cheek, more out of relief than anything else.

“Then that’s what you’ll have,” he murmurs, wiping the tear away with his thumb before capturing your lips in a soft, lingering kiss.

He doesn’t rush, doesn’t demand. Everything he does is with a deliberate slowness, an assurance that he’s here, that he’s not going anywhere. His hands slide down to your hips, lifting you just enough so that he can position himself against you. You feel the hard length of him pressing against your entrance, and there’s a moment of hesitation, a brief flash of nerves that makes you tense up.

“Shh, relax,” Toto soothes, his lips brushing against your temple. “I’ve got you, Häschen. Let me take care of you.”

You take a deep breath, forcing yourself to relax as he slowly lowers you onto him, filling you inch by inch until he’s buried deep inside. It’s a stretch, a fullness that’s overwhelming and yet, it’s exactly what you need. The tension that’s been keeping you awake, the restless energy that’s been gnawing at you, it all melts away the moment he’s inside you.

“There you go,” Toto whispers, his hands rubbing soothing circles on your back. “That’s better, isn’t it?”

You can only nod, your face buried in the crook of his neck as you cling to him, your body trembling with relief. He doesn’t move, doesn’t thrust or push, just holds you there, letting you get used to the feeling of being so completely filled by him.

Toto’s hand comes up to cradle the back of your head, his fingers threading through your hair as he rocks you gently in his lap. “You’re doing so well, Häschen. Just let go. I’ve got you.”

You close your eyes, focusing on the steady beat of his heart, the warmth of his body surrounding you. His hands are everywhere, holding you, grounding you, and it’s not long before you feel the exhaustion creeping back in, your body finally relaxing against him.

“That’s it,” Toto murmurs, his lips brushing against your forehead. “Just sleep, Häschen. I’ll be right here.”

You try to fight it, try to stay awake, but it’s a losing battle. The combination of his warmth, his scent, the steady rhythm of his breathing — it all works together to lull you into a deep, dreamless sleep.

Toto doesn’t move, doesn’t shift even an inch as you drift off. He stays still, his hands keeping you anchored to him, his eyes softening as he watches you finally find the peace that had been eluding you all night.

The minutes tick by, the silence of the room only broken by the soft sounds of your breathing, the occasional rustle of the sheets as you shift in your sleep. Toto continues to work, his fingers moving deftly over the keyboard, but his focus is only half on the screen. The other half is on you — on the way your body relaxes completely against him, on the way your lips part slightly as you breathe, on the way you trust him so implicitly to take care of you.

It’s a feeling that stirs something deep inside him, something protective, something possessive. You’re his, in every way that matters, and he’ll do whatever it takes to make sure you’re safe, that you’re happy, that you know you’re loved.

Time slips by unnoticed as Toto works, the hours stretching out as the night deepens. Every so often, he glances down at you, checking to make sure you’re still comfortable, still resting peacefully. Each time, he finds you just as he left you, your body still pressed close to his, your breathing even and calm.

It’s only when the first hints of dawn begin to creep through the windows, the sky lightening to a soft, pale blue, that Toto finally lets out a breath, his work done for the night. He looks down at you, still asleep in his lap, and a small smile tugs at the corners of his mouth.

Carefully, so as not to wake you, he shuts down his computer, the soft whir of the machines fading into silence. Then, with the same gentle care, he shifts you in his arms, lifting you as he stands, cradling you against his chest.

You stir slightly, a soft murmur escaping your lips, but you don’t wake, your head resting against his shoulder as he carries you out of the office and down the hallway to the bedroom. The bed is still unmade from earlier, the sheets a tangled mess, but Toto doesn’t care. All that matters is getting you settled, making sure you’re comfortable.

He lays you down carefully, his movements slow and deliberate as he pulls the covers over you. For a moment, he just stands there, watching you sleep, a strange sense of peace settling over him. You look so small, so fragile in the big bed, and yet, there’s a strength to you, a quiet resilience that he admires more than he can put into words.

Finally, he slips into bed beside you, his arm wrapping around your waist as he pulls you close. You instinctively curl into him, seeking out his warmth even in sleep, and Toto can’t help but smile as he presses a soft kiss to the top of your head.

As he settles beside you, he gently lifts your leg over his hip, positioning himself against your entrance. With a slow, careful motion, he slips back inside you, filling you completely once more.

You sigh in your sleep, a contented sound that melts into a soft moan, and your body instinctively curls closer to him, seeking his warmth and strength. Toto holds you there, his presence filling you completely, a sense of belonging settling over both of you. He strokes your back, soothing and slow, his own eyes growing heavy with sleep as the night finally gives way to dawn.

With you nestled in his arms, warm and secure, Toto allows himself to drift off, knowing that you're exactly where you belong — in his arms, perfectly content and loved.

[rottingghosty]

The Realms PR | DC X DP Part 2

this isn’t as good in my thoughts because writing as bruce??? really hard. how am i supposed to write a paranoid man if i am the most chillest person i can be… anyway heres your part 2 food of this au, not sure if i’ll continue writing more parts? depends on how i feel.

errors are made and sorry the the lackluster performance this might be

if you want to use my prompt please give me credits thank you

☁️☁️☁️☁️

Danny very much prefers to have nobody intervene on his business as the vigilante of Amity Park. He’s essentially called dibs on it if you consider the fact that the entire town is basically his metaphorical grave since it’s his haunt and he did die to make the portal to the Ghost Zone open. He very much ignores that specific can of worms because that’s a heavy topic that he won’t ever talk about because Spectra really ruined his own outlook on professionals. Jazz will most likely want to open that can but that’s for future Danny.

Where was he? Oh yeah.

Danny very much likes being a solo hero with his friends and sister aiding when they can. He very much dislikes the fact that people have been trying to enter his haunt without permission. Does he know why people who tried to pass through Amity Park suddenly find themselves back at where the welcome sign is? No. Is he going to ask? Also no because it allows the residents and himself privacy even when he’s got the GIW on his tail or even his own parents.

He’s not going to rebuke this gift especially with his influx of fame. Which reminds Danny that he needs to post a new tweet, maybe a video of Cujo playing with the kids in the park from a few days ago? He figures people would be more interested if they knew a ghost dog existed. Maybe he can include one of Ember’s concerts or something.

Man he has so many videos to post and such little time to do so, but he thinks Sam and Tucker are having fun being his PR team with the way Sam had a manic gleam in her eyes when Lois Lane and Clark Kent sent her a message of twitter asking for an interview. All while Tucker basically going giddy at Red Robin and Oracle trying to get through the firewall that’s blocking Amity Park from eyes being too close for all their comforts.

Bruce Wayne stared intently at the video before him, it was only thirty seconds but it was thirty seconds enough to cause him to tighten his grip on the arm rests of his chair in the Batcave. His blue eyes staring down at the figure in the video as it replayed on loop. His shoulders tense and bunched up as he inhaled sharply at the frame that happened ten seconds in.

Because right there, staring up at the camera looked too much like Jason. It looked too much like his boy, his son that he had lost when Jason was only fifteen. Normally he would’ve brushed it off but it was the way that it then shifted into Dick, Steph, Tim and then Damian—

Ancient of Hope is what Phantom had called them, the embodiment of hope and how its form switched to what people believed in. Apparently it looked so much like the Robins of Gotham because Gotham was— is the biggest source of hope there is. Yet, this was an unknown.

Bruce couldn’t trust a word that Phantom said, ghosts are an unknown. Trying to get Constantine to talk about it was a struggle itself, the equivalent of trying to pull teeth out because the man was equally as stubborn as Bruce and it was even worse when the man had cursed up a storm when they had a meeting about Phantom’s first videos.

Ghosts are a variable in an equation that Bruce is trying to solve but he simply can’t force his way into solving it, not when this whole thing has turned into a diplomatic nightmare with the fact that Oa has started pressuring the US government about the mistreatment of the Infinite Realms beings.

The Justice League Dark even adding in the pressure— Deadman being one of the more outspoken members as he explained as much as he knew about the Infinite Realms despite not quite qualifying as one of their residents but still considered as one in an odd way. Constantine grumbling about as he came and went, saying how the Ghost Investigation Ward could’ve started a war or destroyed everyone.

Clark and Lane were writing up articles, having conversations with the PR Team of Phantom— two teenagers who were involved heavily and considered ambassadors to the Realms because of their connection to Phantom.

Phantom who is the High King. Phantom who doesn’t want his subjects hunted anymore and took a peaceful route instead of simply declaring war.

Bruce takes a heavier breath, jaw clenched as he watched the video loop one more time before the closed the tab to look more into the GIW and their backers, eyes narrowing in two names.

Vladimir Masters and Lex Luthor.

[buckybarnesevents]

HOT BUCKY SUMMER IS BACK!

This event runs from June 1st, 2025 to August, 30, 2025. Masterlists (optional) are due by August 31st. Each week starting June 1st, we’ve given you a theme (phrase) and three (or more) prompts to spark your imagination. You do not have to strictly include the exact phrase or prompt words in your works - they are meant to encourage you and inspire your overall idea! Interpret them as you wish.

📢 RULES/FAQs

Tag accordingly, please! General blog rules apply to this, please read before participating. This event is 18+ due to the nature of the prompts.

There is no minimum or maximum limit.

We will not be reblogging works outside of the assigned week (ex: if you fill a week 1 prompt but we are already in July, we will not be reglogging), however, these prompts are meant to inspire your muses and you can use them as you desire.

Your works do not have to be inherently M or E rated to participate, they are up to your interpretation.

 There is no limit on how many works you create. You can create multiple works for one prompt/week, participate in only week, or create a multi-chapter fic to combine different weeks/prompts. We encourage and welcome all participants!

TAG ACCORDINGLY!

Any and all forms of creation are welcomed!

📢 HOW TO SHARE YOUR WORKS:

Please mention us (@buckybarnesevents) and use the tag #hotbuckysummer2025 in your post for us to reblog your works!

We MUST be able to clearly identify what week/prompt you are using. Again, we will not be reblogging works outside of the assigned week. If we cannot easily tell what prompt you are using when tagged, we will not be reblogging.

You can also tag us again in your masterpost for us to reblog a summary of your works for this event.

⏩ Ao3 Collection: HotBuckySummer2025 ⏩ Discord: https://discord.gg/buckybarnesevents (Great place to promote, and feel free to join for a friendly community to hang with even outside of events!) ⏩Previous Works: Event Archive

For a word version (enabling copy and paste), please see below the cut.

Happy creating!

💙 HR

1 June 1st - June 7th | “Mind your own damn business.” | [Secret Sex/Relationship | Embarrassment | Denial]

2 June 8th - June 14th | “Did I give you permission?” | [Cock Cage | Orgasm Delay/Denial | Master/Pet Roleplay] 

3 June 15th - June 21st | “Not now!” | [Heat/Rut | Rushed Sex | Exhibitionism]

4 June 22nd - June 28th | FREE WEEK | [Optional prompts: “A” - Auto-fellatio,  Aftercare, Aphrodisiac, Anal Play, Ass-to-mouth, Ahegao]

5 June 29th - July 5th | “Play with it.” | [Cock Worship | Forced Masturbation | Come Play]

6 July 6th - July 12th | “I need help.” | [Sex Pollen | Erectile Dysfunction | Fuck or Die] 

7 July 13th - July 19th | “Put this on.” | [Blindfolds | Lingerie | Gag/Collars]

8 July 20th - July 26th |  “Have it your way, then.” | [Brat | Punishment | Sub/Dom Relationship]

9 July 27th - August 2nd | FREE WEEK | Optional Prompts: “S” - Sex Toys, Stomach Bulge, Somnophilia, Stuckage, Saliva Play]

10 August 3rd - August 9th | “I can’t.” | [Big Cock | Anal Training | Forced Orgasm]

11 August 10th - August 16th | “You look good like this.”| [Marked Up | Tied Down | Ruined]

12 August 17th - August 23rd | “You can’t be real.” | [Fantasy Character | Monsterfucking | Dreaming/Daydreaming] 

13 August 24th - August 30th | FREE WEEK | [Optional Prompts: “M” - (Mutual) Masturbation, Masochism, Medical Play, Milking, Musk, Multiple Orgasms]

[asce-of-hearts]

From your prompt list

Can you do 

💓 I will carve your name into my skin.

With maybe

🌟 I’d adore you in any life, any heaven, any hell...

For yandere NSFW Ace or Law with a S/O who has doubts about their love due to a bad previous relationship with another pirate

Thank you

Learn to trust

Contents: Yandere!Ace and Yandere!Law (Separate) NSFW drabble with prompt: 💓 and 🌟

more Ace content here

more Law content here

TAG LIST

PROMPT LIST

WARNINGS: SOFT YANDERE, MENTIONS OF SELF HARM IN ACE'S PART (NOT FROM READER), MENTIONS OF TOXIC RELATIONSHIPS, NSFW/SMUT, PENETRATIVE SEX, READER HAS VERY OBVIOUS ABANDONMENT ISSUES, PRAISE AND REASSURANCE.

Portgas D. Ace

Ace's hands wrap around yours as he fucks you slow and deep, his favorite position, missionary, so he can face you. So he can see every little reaction, and he can see the tears that prickle at your eyes, at how you're trying your hardest not to break down under his warm embrace.

"What's wrong, baby?" He asks, and you let out the most pathetic whimper as he bottoms out inside you. His thrusts stopping, your naked bodies connected, his raven hair sticking to his freckled skin. His golden eyes searching for your crying face, for answers.

"You're not leaving after this, right?" You ask between broken sobs, and his eyes widen. He would never dream of leaving your side, he would rather die before parting ways from you willingly. "I've given myself to you because- because I don't want you to leave me. Will you leave me, Ace?"

And he shakes his head, and his thrusts come back. Slowly, his hips rocking as he ruins your little hole. You whimper once more, and he gives you the sweetest smile, the most reassuring of glances. He takes your hand, and places it over his heart.

"Right here," He speaks, voice sultry as he continues to ravage you. "I will carve your name into my skin. I will brand myself so everyone knows how much I love you, how yours I am." His smile never falters, and you whine as your insides clench around his cock, the declaration both romantic and strangely erotic. "I will never leave you, I will never let you leave me. We will never be away from each other, I promise." He presses a soft kiss against your lips, tender in comparison to how his hips move with precision to ruin you. His arms leave your hands to wrap around you, holding you tight against him as he humps you, chasing his high.

"Trust me, sweet thing. You'll have to kill me if you want to get rid of me."

Trafalgar D. Water Law.

"Do you promise, Law?" You ask, on the verge of tears as he peppers kisses over your naked skin. And he stops on his tracks, looking at you in the eye.

"What do you want me to promise, ___?" He asks, voice flat and monotone as usual, his thumbs tracing circles around your hips. And you sniffle.

"That you won't leave," You whimper. "That you won't see me differently after... after I've given myself to you." He blinks twice, his mind coming up with an answer. He gives you the softest smile, his stubble tickling your naked stomach as he places his chin over the soft skin.

"Of course I'll see you different, silly thing," He whispers, his hands now snaking towards your nether regions, rubbing your hole as if asking for permission. You want to cry even more now, but he continues talking. "Once we're done, you won't be the ___ I know. You'll be... something more, much more. So special, so beautiful, so perfect for me," Finally, a finger manages to intrude inside you. "I will know you better than anyone else, I will know how to love you even better, how to make you addicted to me." He tries to make you relax, pressing a little over your navel. "Relax for me, I only want to make you feel good."

His fingers pump in and out at a steady pace, making you moan and writhe underneath his touch. You always knew he had long fingers and experienced hands, but he was driving you right out of your mind with every perfect spot he hit with surgical precision.

"Do you promise?" You ask in a final teary eyed whine, and he takes his fingers out, coated in slick, and shoves them in your mouth, pressing against your tongue to prevent you from speaking.

"I promise, ___." His eyes are intense. "I’d adore you in any life, any heaven, any hell... I adore you here, and I will adore you after I've made you mine."

You can't help but sniffle as you suck at his fingers, and he smiles.

"Trust me, ___. Nothing will ever make me leave your side."

hope you enjoyed this!!!!!

have a great day/night

TAGGING: @bookandyarndragon @massivepenguinunknown @anieluvs @eroscastle @aenbyveryverygayperson

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@hannas16 @mimihaitani @bad4amficideas @flow33didontsmoke @purple-obsidian

@acehasmyheart @jellystar-star @architectofsuffering @tsunderedoctor @shmyek

@mizzhellsingsstuff 

Want to know when I release another fic? Join the TAG LIST

[mcflymemes]

PROMPTS FROM RANDOM LYRICS BY THE MOUNTAIN GOATS *  assorted lyrics from the mountain goats songs, originally created by my friend monk and reposted with permission, adjust as necessary

i am gonna make it through this year if it kills me.

people say friends don’t destroy one another. what do they know about friends?

woke up afraid of my own shadow. like genuinely afraid.

headed for the pawnshop to buy myself a switchblade.

i feel guilty but i can’t feel ashamed.

it’s okay to find the faith to saunter forward.

lord send me a mechanic if i’m not beyond repair.

there’s bound to be a ghost at the back of your closet no matter where you live.

there’s gonna come a day when you feel better.

i’m gonna bribe the officials, i’m gonna kill all the judges.

it’s gonna take you people years to recover from all of the damage.

our friends say it’s darkest before the sun rises, we’re pretty sure they’re all wrong.

i hope when you think of me years down the line you can’t find one good thing to say.

i hope that if i found the strength to walk out you’d stay the hell out of my way.

i am drowning, there is no sign of land.

you are coming down with me, hand in unlovable hand.

i hope you die. i hope we both die.

cling to my convictions even when i get hurt.

but i’ve tried the losing side, i don’t wanna die in here.

you found my breaking point. congratulations.

spent too much of my life now trying to play fair.

i’m walking out of here in one piece, don’t care what comes after.

do every stupid thing that makes you feel alive.

some things you do just to see how bad they’ll make you feel.

some people crash two or three times and then learn from their mistakes.

mistreat your altar boys long enough and this is what you get.

a tiger’s never going to change its stripes.

too long i’ve let my self respect stand in my way.

you can stand up, you can run. you and i both know what you’ve done.

i will carry you home in my teeth.

spat out my morning prayers. desperate pleas and vicious lies.

there are no pan-asian supermarkets down in hell.

feast when you can, and dream when there's nothing to feast on.

the most remarkable thing about coming home to you is the feeling of being in motion again.

i am not this body that imprisons me.

look hard at my stripes, there’ll be no more after me.

sing for the damage we’ve done and the worse things that we’ll do.

i know you’d kill me if you could stand the sight of blood.

i can see the future, it’s a real dark place.

i’m doing this for revenge.

john rambo never went to vietnam.

i am healthy, i am whole. but i have poor impulse control.

i wanna go home, but i am home.

i’m going to get my perfect body back someday.

if not by faith then by the sword i’m going to be restored.

and i can't think of one thing in this whole wide blessed world that's more dangerous and frightening than you when you get bored.

i am coming home to you with my own blood in my mouth.

i am coming home to you if it’s the last thing that i do.

you’re the last best thing i’ve got going.

so i follow you down your twisting alleyways, find a few cul-de-sacs of my own.

there’s only one place this road ever ends up and i don’t wanna die alone.

wake up sixty minutes after my head hits the pillow. i can’t live like this.

believe in your heart and confess with your lips. surely you will be saved one day.

wait as long as i have to for good news.

a kind and loving god won’t let my small ship run aground.

no one hopes to hear the bagman call.

no friends closer than the ones we lost.

no greater love than to lay my life down for a friend.

look high: it’s my last hope!

i need justice in my life, here it comes.

i’ve been told it’s real sweet to grow old.

i don’t mean it when i tell you “i don’t love you anymore”.

what’ll i do when i don’t have you? when i finally get what i deserve?

you can’t give me back what you’ve taken. but you can give me something that’s almost as good.

look at the person i’ve turned into. tell me, how do you like him now?

i am right where you want me. do what you brought me out here for.

you can arm me to the teeth, you can’t make me go to war.

i’m under no illusion as to what i meant to you.

but you made an impression. sometimes i still feel the bruise.

[going-to-ikea-for-the-fries]

One of your "It's a Match" chapters gave me an idea. LOVE that series btw!

What if Gaz is a virgin so Simon let's him lose his virginity with his gf? Simon is there to guide Gaz and make sure he does it right so you get as much pleasure out of it as needed. Then you give Gaz the ride of his life while Simon controls when and where he gets to cum. The poor man whimpering beneath you from the edging and denial until he finally gets permission to cum.

Sub!Gaz x Dom!Simon x Switch!Reader

(Feel free to ignore this as well.)

Took some creative liberties with the prompt and made Switch!Reader a mean/brat tamer domme even if Gaz isn’t necessarily a brat (just felt more practical for me to do it). Sue me.

Sharing is caring. || Gaz x F!Reader x Ghost

Rating: E Words: 4.7K (this one got away from me sorry) Pairing: virgin!Gaz x gf!Reader x bf!Simon CW: smut, voyeurism, hotwifing, domination/submission, oral sex (m! and f! receiving), unprotected piv, fairly rough/forceful sex (BUT CONSENSUAL), praise, slight verbal degradation?, body mods (piercings). other tags: pre-established couple, loss of virginity, pre-agreed upon conditions, consent checks, no beta we die like soap. a/n: no thoughts, just vibes. NOT PROOFREAD

Simon first brought it up one sleepy Sunday evening, when you two were lying side by side in bed, his arms snaked around you as you read an e-book, his eyes glued to the TV on an episode of some crime show.

“You know,” He had said, Roman nose rubbing the top of your head affectionately. “I’d like to run something by you.”

“Hm?” You cooed as you rolled your head back on his chest to look up at him.

“So Kyle has this problem,” Simon began to explain as he looked down at you, brown eyes peering through his blonde lashes.

That got your senses tingling and you immediately set aside the tablet to dedicate your attention to the topic at hand, turning your body to properly face him, your arm coming to rest on his shoulder.

“What kind of problem?” You questioned, an eyebrow raising in intrigue.

Simon’s eyebrows twitched lightly, a tell-tale sign he was about to bring up something ‘embarrassing’, some good gossip. “Go on!” You immediately insisted, catching the little microexpressions on his face.

“He’s a virgin.” Simon revealed, causing you to gasp, pulling your head back and shaking it in confusion.

“NO?!” You said in shock. “With that pretty face of his?” You blinked.

“I know.” Simon says and then cocks a brow upward. “So what do you say?”

You didn’t need clarification, you simply smirked and shot him a look.

-

That’s how you ended up here.

Simon made all the arrangements, established rules with Kyle, and finally brought him over the that following Friday.

“You sure about this, sir?” Kyle asks, ever respectfully, sat on your living room couch, with you by his side, Simon sitting across from you on the arm chair by the chandelier.

“As sure as anyt’in’.” Your boyfriend replies and casts a glance at you. “You sure, da’lin’?”

“100% sure.” You answer, before glancing at Kyle. “Are you sure about it?”

“I… I am. But… It’s… It’s your relationship, I don’t want to cause an issue.” Kyle tells you, looking at you sheepishly, dark lashes fluttering anxiously over those stunning brown eyes of his.

“It’s not our first time doing this, I’m sure Simon’s told you all about it.” You reply in a reassuring tone.

“I know but…” Kyle says as he looks at you, your hand on his knee, finger drawing light circles on the denim of his pants.

“We’ll start off slow, at your pace. If ever there’s anything you don’t like, we’ll stop.” You assure him. “Simon’s here for that, after all… Not just for my sake, but yours too.” You add.

Kyle nods and gulps down a deep breath, casting one last glance at the form of his lieutenant, sat imposingly on the arm chair, legs spread open, lounging without a car in the world. One of his legs is bent near the seat, the other stretched across, foot resting on the edge of the coffee table, and arms resting comfortably on the rests, one of his hands holding a tumbler of Bourbon. His head is cocked to the side with interest.

The young sergeant nods again and slowly leans toward you. One of his hand tentatively wraps around your hip, fingers grazing the expanse of your ass in the shorts you’re wearing, while the other grabs you around the back of the neck, his lips connecting to yours.

Your warm, wet tongue swirling with his, soft breaths and gasps coming from your mouth as you let him take the lead for a moment... it’s all making his confidence grow. Sure, he’ll need guidance eventually, but for now he’s got this.

His hand slides to cup your ass, grabbing it with a greedy grasp, squeezing his fingers into the thickness, the other sinking into your hair, fingers gently clutching your scalp as they tug into the hairs.

He’s kissed plenty of people before, this isn’t new for him, and yet, it still feels completely different, in the way you’re not ‘his’ to kiss. But, somehow, that makes it all the better.

Slowly, your lips separate and you glance up at him a single look to check on his state and he nods imperceptibly, which causes your hands to slide down his chest and begin feeling him up.

His arms wrap around your waist, pulling you atop of him, hands sliding under the fabric of your top to feel up your back as your own find the hem of his t-shirt and tug it up to expose his chest.

Your fingers trace his pecs, his abs, nails softly drawing down atop him, making him shiver. He’s younger than Simon, his skin infinitely smoother, his body fat percentage definitely lower, not a trace of hair on him. It’s so different from your boyfriend… And you welcome the change.

You help him take off his t-shirt, throwing it haphazardly to the side and then lower your mouth onto his jaw, neck, shoulders, collarbones… You’ve barely started and the poor kid looks like he’s already seeing the universe and all its stars, his cock having sprung to attention so quickly that the bulge in his pants keeps rubbing against your inner thigh.

Slowly, you slip down from atop of him, your hands sliding down his body as you kneel before him on the floor, hands tracing over his thighs in the jeans he’s wearing, fingers squeezing his strong muscles through the fabric.

“You’ve never gotten a bj before, have you?” You ask him, eyebrows cocked and eyes locked onto his face. He shakes his head immediately, muttering something about ‘getting a handy’ back in secondary but that was the extent of it.

“Poor thing.” You coo at him. “Never got to feel a pretty mouth wrapped around that cock, hm?” Yo teased him playfully, watching how his eyes widened, eyebrows scrunching pitifully, as you undid his belt and tugged down his jeans.

“You’re in good hands, Garrick. She’ll take good care of you. Has a very talented throat.” Simon pipes up behind you. You don’t even have to look behind you to spot the smirk on his lips, the way the dulcet of his voice comes just short of a boast and a brag of how lucky he himself is, and how lucky Kyle is that Simon was willing to share you.

You help Kyle out of his sneakers and jeans before beginnin to palm him through the black cotton of his boxer briefs, his cock already peeking up from behind the waistband, leaking precum in anticipation. “Someone’s eager, hm? Are you excited, Kyle?” You quip to him.

“Mhm. Very. Very!” Kyle nods, his eyes glued to every single movement of yours, from the way your hands palm at his bulge, to how your fingers caress his smooth skin, to how they hook onto the waistband and roll down his underwear, peeling it off his body.

He’s big, bigger than Simon, even, though not as thick… He’s circumcised and he’s perfectly shaven. You wonder if he did that for your sake, or his own preference. There’s a thick vein running down the underside of him, one you can’t wait to feel pulse against your tongue.

Taking his cock in your hand, you stroke it slowly before allowing your tongue to run atop of it, base to tip, your tongue gently grazing the leaky tip, spreading the precum over the head before slowly parting your lips and guiding him inside.

The moan that escapes the boy in front of you makes you smirk, he twitches below you, fingers clenching on either side of his thighs, as if resisting squeezing into tight fists as you slowly allow his cock to slide deeper into your mouth. Then, you start bobbing it, up and down, cheeks hollowed out and lips grazing the warm skin leaving a mess of saliva around him.

Kyle’s quick to react this time, his hand grabbing you by your hair, legs trembling on either side of you. Your eyes shoot up to find his, only to find that his head is falling back onto the back of the couch, eyes screwed closed, mouth hanging open like he’s experiencing an out of body experience.

“He’s certainly enjoying himself, isn’t he?” Simon remarks behind you, receiving a finger signal from you, a sign of agreement, a preestablished way of communicating, since your mouth was busy. “That feel good, Kyle?”

“Y-Yeah… Yeah… I-It… God…” Kyle groans in between swallowed breaths. Poor thing, you want to coo at him, already too lost in the pleasure to even speak… Oh, how beautiful he’ll look soon, fucked out under you, drunk on your pussy…

You don’t notice Simon coming up from behind you until you feel his hand grip your head, atop of Kyle’s, calloused fingers digging into your scalp. His other hand shoots out to grab Kyle’s head from the back, pulling it forward so he’s forced to stare at you.

Then, your head is shoved forward, Kyle’s cock sliding down your throat with no warning Simon’s hand holding you in place, while Kyle’s eyes widen and an obscene moan escapes his mouth. Simon controls your head, pulling and pushing you onto Kyle’s hip. 

It’s no wonder that Kyle’s whole body starts to tremble, eyes widened and having trouble staying focused, or open, mouth left wide open as Simon makes him fuck the back of your throat, experienced eyes keeping watch of your reactions and signals and of Kyle’s…

He’s controlling the speed at which you go, how deep you take his cock down his throat, how much of a mess you make with your spit, and how long you get to breathe whenever he pulls you off before pushing you back on. A reminder. He’s always in control.

“Come down her pretty throat, go on, Garrick.” Simon demands. Kyle, poor thing, has already been holding on with teeth and nails to keep himself from climaxing too soon, wanting to prove himself as more than just inexperienced… But Simon’s order is so severe, he can’t keep it up… And he lets go, twitching in your mouth and shooting his come down your throat.

Simon lets go of you both, giving you a moment to catch your breaths, brown eyes staring at the result of what you just did, you, out of breath, a mess of drool down your chin, and eyes welled up with tears, and Kyle, out of breath, a mess of drool around the base of his cock, and eyes glazed over.

“Good job, da’lin’...” Simon tells you, pulling you up ever so slightly, kissing you sweetly, his tongue piercing flicking across your tongue, as if he’s looking for a taste of Kyle in your throat. 

After a moment, he pulls back and looks at Kyle. “Now, you’re gonna thank her for the favour she made ya, hm?” He warns. “Let’s take this to the bed. C’mon.” He demands, taking you by the hand and leading you to the bedroom, leaving Kyle to have to keep up.

Simon, unlike you, is a practical man. He doesn’t waste time. By the time Kyle has made it to the bedroom after barely 20 seconds, he’s already got you naked and splayed atop the mattress, a pillow placed under your hips.

He’s on his knees in front of you and beckons Kyle closer with two fingers, before he uses those same two fingers to rub over your folds and spread them open, revealing just how wet you’ve gotten from merely giving Kyle head. “You see that?” Simon coos at him while you stare at them both, holding yourself up on your elbows.

“Y-Yes, sir.” Kyle replies with a nod, his own hand reaching to touch you, carefully sliding between your puffy lips, gliding across easily through the slick. 

Simon grabs Kyle’s wrist and carefully guides it across to your clit, finding it with the speed of a man that’s been fucking you often since you two started dating. He knows your body, knows you better than anyone, and he’s about to show Kyle exactly how to touch you to get you to fall apart like he does…

You immediately stiffen up when you feel the pads of Kyle’s fingers against your clit, the pressure behind them coming from Simon’s hand as he rolls his fingers in light circles. It’s familiar and it immediately causes you to hum in pleasure and hiss, lying yourself back on the mattress.

“Ideally, you always keep something touch that needy little clit there.” Simon explains, more like he’s giving an anatomy lesson than having a threesome. “Be it a tongue, a finger, what have you.”

Simon’s hand then slides Kyle’s fingers away, making you whimper from the loss of contact. “Be patient, da’lin’, you’ll get more soon.” He quips. “Needy girl… Thought you were going to be all bossy with Kyle, now look at you…” He coos. 

Simon turns Kyle’s hand over and, using his own hand, parts your puffy cunny before helping Kyle push two digits into your slick warmth. Kyle’s fingers are no biggy, not thick and calloused like Simon’s, and they’re surprisingly easy to take on. You moan softly at them, before becoming just a bit more vocal when Kyle’s fingers pad over your G-spot when Simon curls them just so.

“Right there, you see that?” Simon beckons, Kyle responding with mild agreement that you don’t even register because, soon, his fingers start moving, fucking in and out you per Simon’s instruction, while your boyfriend’s tongue quickly finds your clit, the cold piercing rubbing and flicking at your most sensitive spot, causing your back to arch on the bed.

“Oh, fuck, Simon…” You whine, legs already shaking, more so per the stimulation, which causes your boyfriend to use both of his free hands to keep your knees spread open as far as he could comfortably get them, tongue still lapping up at you with purposeful strokes.

The shaggy blond hair of your boyfriend vanishes for a moment, as does the experienced tongue touching you, before it gets replaced with Kyle’s slightly messier and uncoordinated attempts, Simon observing Kyle and noting your reactions and how much weaker they are, upset at the lack of proper stimulation.

“C’mon, Garrick…” Simon croons. “Your tongue’s sharp enough to roast Johnny, but you get here and it gets shy?” He taunts, before using his hand on the back of the sergeant’s neck to guide him a bit.

“I’m trying…” Kyle remarks, his face feeling warm against your skin, showing he’s likely blushing despite his darker complexion hiding it, his fingers still moving in the way Simon taught him, his only saving grace.

“Scoot.” Simon remarks and pushes his head aside, ever so slightly, causing him to rest against your thigh. Simon’s head pushes in near Kyle’s, resting against your other thigh, and his tongue catches your clit again, though the angle at he’s at now, slightly at an angle, allows Kyle to spot the way Simon moves his tongue: soft circles, zigzagging side to side, lips also rubbing against you.

Kyle watches closely, eyes widened, pupils blown with lust at the sight of Simon’s face so close and going down on you so eagerly, his eyes glued to your face up top, as if checking every single reaction you have to your boyfriend’s mouth. And react you do. Your moans are louder, jumpy, desperate, your hands grabbing the bed covers and squeezing tight, your cunt seeking Simon’s mouth as you fuck yourself onto it.

Kyle wasn’t the type to watch porn often, having little time and little interest in it, more so because he knew it wasn’t a good habit or realistic to expect it to be realistic… But the sight of Simon’s lips sucking and rubbing into your slick like it was the most delicious meal he’s ever gotten to eat was better than any of the porn he’s actually seen.

Simon’s able to make you come undone in a matter of minutes, the whimpers and needy moans, the shallow breaths, the way your head was left spinning, lolling to the side as Simon eased you down from your peak and then dropped a chaste kiss to your thigh before standing up again. 

“You saw that?” He teases Kyle, who nods eagerly, no words coming to his lips after the display he just got. “You’ll get there eventually. With practise.” He assures him before patting him lightly on the shoulder. “Up you go.”

“How are you doing, da’lin’?” Simon asks, checking on you as you nod and show him a thumbs up, causing a chuckle to come from his chest before he takes a seat in another armchair in the corner, a spot he usually uses when having insomnia, right by the windows, to work on his laptop while you sleep near him… Except this time being used for something else.

“Go on, then, continue.” He demands as he sprawls out on the armchair, legs spread and already undoing his belt and fly, seeking relief from the tight feeling in his own jeans.

You nod eagerly and quickly shift to be sat on the bed, pulling Kyle toward you. “You still want this?” You ask him as you look him in the eyes… As if Kyle, needy the way he is now, after the sight of you coming undone on Simon’s tongue, would ever be able to answer anything other than a resounding ‘YES!’.

“Mhm… I do.” Kyle assures you with another nod… So, you kiss again, hands sliding over each other’s bodies just like they had on the couch before, exploring the free skin, allowing Kyle to grope you more easily. He seems fixated on your ass and thighs, fingers kneading the extra meat in them and holding you close.

His cock has long recovered from his first orgasm, now rubbing against your tummy as he kneels in front of you on the mattress. But not for long. Soon, you’ve laid Kyle on his back, and you’re straddling him, one leg on either side, slowly rubbing your folds over the length of his veiny cock.

“You’re gonna take ‘im for a right, da’lin’?” Simon asks, your eyes seeking him out in his armchair. The way you’re positioned, he can see all of you. Your pretty tits, the way your lips spread to rub against Kyle’s shaft, your legs parted open and knees digging into the mattress.

“Mhm…” You reply, your expression having shifted once again from the needy, submissive mess he had made of you, to a more dominant, playful one as you look down at the sergeant below you, looking up at you like he knows he’s in for a wild one.

“Go on then… But try not to break him, yeah?” Simon teases and winks at you, his hand already palming his cock through his own black boxer briefs.

“No promises…” You quip in return and wink back, before, carefully reaching a hand forward to lift Kyle’s cock from its resting spot against his hip.

Slowly, you sink yourself into it, his narrower build a lot easier to accommodate than Simon’s girth… But you soon regret how eagerly you did it, when you feel Kyle’s sheer size slip inside easily, his tip striking your cervix forcefully with that one swft motion.

“Bloody hell…” You grunt and bounce back a bit to relieve the pressure. “You’re big, aren’t you?” You tease Kyle who’s already unresponsive, poor little thing, eyes twice as wide as they had been when you gave him head, barely nodding in response.

Shifting your weight around, you plant your feet on either side of Kyle’s hip. “I’m gonna move, okay?” You warn him, setting your open palms on his thighs, behind your back, earning another nod from Kyle.

Slowly, you start to ride him, each bounce of your hips drawing the most delicious moans out of Kyle, his head lolling back over the foot of the bed, eyelids fluttering and his back arching.

“Gah- Fuck-” Kyle grunts, his breath already ragged before you’ve had time to do anything, just slowly moving, feeling his lengthy size rub against your walls as you force him to bottom out every time.

Kyle’s voice gets higher, whinier, his forehead dribbling with sweat with each thrust you force his cock to deliver into your slick cunny. “Feels… so… sososo so good…” He whimpers, his tone almost pathetic.

“Yeah… does it feel good?” You croon at him, a mischievous smirk on your lips, his cock drawing soft moans off your mouth as well.

“Yeah… yeah… yeah…” Kyle nods needily, his breath staggered and swallowing excess saliva.

“Yeah? Was it all you were expecting, pretty boy?” You tease him some more, earning another handful of needy ‘Yeah’s, his mind too overwhelmed with pleasure to consider saying anything else. “You don’t want me to go faster then, do you?”

“No… no… faster…” He replies, his head shooting forward, clearly eager to experience what ‘faster’ would feel like.

“Oh? Then you were lying? It doesn’t feel good, you need it faster?” You croon at him as if he was behaving like a brat and not like the good boy he really was.

“No… nO… it’s- it’s-!” Kyle tries to reply, desperate to clear the misunderstanding. Not that you give him time for it, as you speed up the speed of your bouncing, taking him in harder with each strike of your hips coming down onto his.

“GOD- YES!” Kyle shouts, eyes shot open and back curling upward, his head snapping forward to look at you and watch the way your pussy swallows every inch of his veiny cock, before letting out a huff and falling back on the bed again, desperate for more.

His hands grab onto your thighs and hips, fingers digging in hard, as you ride him, sweat beginning to slide down your forehead, down your cheeks and neck. Your eyes flitter over to Simon in the corner.

The smug fucker is watching everything with a nasty little half-grin on his lips, brown eyes darkened with lust as he watches you play with Kyle, making him squirm and whimper below you.

“Play with your clit for me, da’lin’.” His voice rings out amidst the frequent and whiney moans coming from Kyle. One of your hands slips away from Kyle’s thigh behind you, finding your clit and rubbing it slowly as you keep bouncing atop of Kyle, hips stuttering lightly as the pleasure becomes more intense.

“That’s it…” Simon says with a chuckle from his armchair, fisting his cock leisurely, as if the sight in front of him wasn’t worth any more from him. “How’s his cock feel, da’lin’?” Your boyfriend asks you.

He’s playing with your head, much like you’re playing with Kyle’s… making you go back and forth between a submissive and dominant mind frame, deriving pleasure from the mind games he’s forcing you to take on.

“It’s big…” You whimper in reply. “So big…” You murmur, your eyes soft and needy as you look at your boyfriend, watching the wicked look in his face..

“Don’t look at me, look at him…” Simon tells you. “Fuck ‘im right, he deserves it.” Simon adds. “Poor lad, been so long without experiencing a pussy…” He teases. “ow’s it feel, Garrick?” He turns his attention, and yours, to the sergeant below you.

Kyle nods pathetically. “Y-Yeah… It’s- Ah-” He whimpers, eyes glazed over with pleasure, too far gone in it, too overwhelmed with the feeling of a warm, wet pussy sheathing his virgin cock.

He’s too fucked out to think… And you’re bound to join him soon enough, with the way he looks below you, your fingers playing with your clit, and his cock swiftly hitting a spot inside you that no man’s ever reached before…

Your hips stutter atop of Kyle’s, your legs straining and tired, sore from the rhythm and position. You shift positions, leaning forward, hands coming to rest on his hard pecs, your head hanging atop of Kyle’s, facing him better.

You grind back and forth, trying to regain strength to continue, feeling Kyle’s tip rubbing deep inside of you, so deep and hard… You can’t help but whine.

“She’s getting tired, Kyle. Go on, it’s your turn.” Your boyfriend quips, his voice dripping with power and command over the two of you.

Kyle didn’t need to be told twice, his arms wrapped around your lower back and he bucked up like a bull, tossing you both aside, the bed creaking with the movement. Whatever insecurity he had is gone.

He pushes your thighs apart with his hip and starts pistoning into you with barely any regard for rhythm or how deep he’s going, his face buried into your neck as he plows into you, grunting and whining like an animal in rut. Not that you mind.

You’re used to Simon (and sometimes a few other mutual ‘friends’ of yours), men who are experienced, who know what to do, how to do it, who aren’t sloppy or erratic, who’s hips don’t jerk with each plunge into your warm cunny… It’s completely different with a bloke like Kyle. Inexperienced, green, but eager and desperate and…

You’re moaning loud and often, nails clawing at his smooth scarless back, eyes rolling as each snap of his hips claps against you like a whip, his cock burying into you to the hilt and back out before plunging back in.

Once more, Simon’s quick to come to your side, quick to crouch by the side of the bed, eyes admiring the way you both act and move, to keep a keen eye on your reactions and his, ready to pull him off you like a mutt that’ll hurt his mate if the owner doesn’t make him dismount…

But he doesn’t intervene. Not when you’re moaning like a whore, with Kyle sweating and grunting atop you, his eyes screwed shut and looking like he’ll lose every and any ounce of restraint he has in the next 3 seconds, somehow pulling the will to go on from sheer fucking air.

“You gonna flood ‘er little cunt with your come, aren’t you, Kyle?” Simon coos as he rests his forearms on the mattress, a perch to watch better.

“Y-Yeah! Yeah!” Kyle replies with an eager nod, eyes opening for a moment to look at Simon who’s so close to him.

“Yeah? Are you?” Simon continues egging him on. “You gonna fill my girl with your load?” He adds, his voice dropping to a more authoritative tone.

“Y-YEAH!” Kyle raises his voice, a bit more determined, but still deep in his natural state… obedient, ready to die for his superior, for his lieutenant.

“Go on, then,” Simon demands. “I wanna see. I wanna see you fill ‘er up.” He adds. “Tell ‘er you’re gonna do it.”

Kyle’s head turns a bit to look at you, his warm brown eyes blown wide with lust and desperation, his skin slick with sweat, his plump lips parted to let in desperate gulps of air.

“‘m gonna…” Kyle grunts as he shifts his weight lightly, his nose leaning against yours. “Gonna put my come so… deep inside you…” He warns you.

The look in his eyes, the desperation in his tone, the warning tone of his that does not at all fit his personality… Somehow it all comes together to rip the filthiest orgasm out of you, your head rolling back, eyes squeezing shut and a loud whine slipping from your parted lips as you squeeze and contract around Kyle’s cock.

Kyle can’t last not even a second longer the moment you start to come around him. His eyes fall shut, his back arches and he digs his fingers into the bed, toes curling and legs shaking as he fucks his come inside of you, drool slipping down his parted mouth.

“Good job.” Simon’s voice remarks next to you, satisfied and almost… proud, while you’re both too lost in the high of pleasure to even recognize his existence in the room or that you’re… alive, really.

[callme-holly]

steve randle x reader where reader is soda’s twin sister, and he doesn’t let her date steve, but she always hangs out with steve at the DX and when he comes to the curtis house and stuff and Soda realizes that they would actually be good together and gives them permission in the end (reluctantly ofc)? tysmmm i love ur work!!!

𝐬𝐞𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐭𝐬 - 𝐒.𝐑

a/n. i love this tysm for the request <333

Steve had always had some form of a crush on you ever since you both met. You were a lot like Soda—the same kind of humour, kind-hearted—and while that helped you two to get along better, you also had your own fire that he was attracted to like a moth.

Soda made it very clear that he didn’t want you two dating and that you were strictly off limits. However, despite that, you and Steve were still incredibly close, doing pretty much everything together. 

Before you two even got together, people just assumed you were dating. When you actually were, nobody really sensed a difference, which was good when keeping the relationship a secret around your brothers.

Eventually, Soda caught on when he noticed the way Steve would watch you when you talked and he confronted you both about it on break at the DX. 

He wasn’t mad and he figured there was no point trying to separate you both (he’d been subtly trying to for months) so he just left you both with a warning: “I don’t like it at all. But if you’re gonna date someone, I guess I’d rather it be someone I trust.” 

The sun was starting to dip below the horizon, casting a gentle orange glow over Tulsa, shadows beginning to form on the sidewalks, long and looming. The summer heat had finally begun to cool, and it was finally bearable enough for you to sit outside and watch as Steve finished working on a car.

He was wiping his hands on a rag, staining the fabric with oil when you asked the question that had been hanging between you for months.

“Are we ever going to tell him?” 

Steve scoffed, pausing and turning to look at you with raised brows. “You kidding? He’d kill me.” 

He tossed the rag aside, not caring where it landed, and stepped towards you, hands settling on your waist, thumbs tracing idle patterns against the waistband of your jeans. 

“He’s gonna find out eventually.” You point out, brows raised, and Steve just shrugs, leaning closer. Your breath hitched as you met his steady gaze.

“I’d rather die later than now,” He whispered, voice hushed, almost as if Soda would be able to hear from home. He hesitated for a moment, almost as if he was weighing up his next words, and you prompted him on with a tender kiss. 

“What?” 

“Is this just a fling?” He dropped his gaze suddenly, almost as if he was ashamed for asking. “I mean… You’re serious about this?” 

You nodded once, the answer final. “You know I am,” you smiled tenderly, cupping his face with your hands. “Are you?” 

He nodded twice as fast, his grip on your waist tightening as if to emphasise his point. “Of course I am.” 

“Then we have nothing to worry about.”

The laugh that left him was near contagious and you shook your head, hiding your face in his neck, cheeks flushed pink. 

You would both be fine; protective, disapproving brothers aside, you were in love, and there was no changing that… 

[all-with-angel]

Tumblr BETTER NOT DELETE THIS AGAIN.

Anyhow, here are some smut prompts that have been rotting my brain so now I'm sharing them with all of you:

MDNI. NSFW under the cut

Magical girl!Gojo x injured civilian!reader

Uh oh! After getting hit by one of the villains attacks, you're left corrupted with a brain that'll turn into mush without the proper treatment! Making you one of the villains braindead lackeys! Lucky for you, Magical Girl!Gojo will heal you right up with his super rainbow healing cum beam 😍!!

Demon King!Sukuna x Hero's Sidekick!Reader

The 'hero' left you to die after months of not ever appreciating the work you put in for the entire party, with your life in the hands of the infamous demon king, he gives your life purpose again. With all the love, respect and mindblowing sex you deserve 👍

Sold off!Gojo x Mafia boss!Reader

Now hear me out. Hear me out. The classic "I was sold off to a mafia boss to pay my fathers debts" except the roles are reversed and your Gojo is WAYYYY too into it. Maybe not as smutty and maybe more on the rom-com way of things but hes a desperate guy and will pound you into the mattress till daylight comes (as a thank you for taking such great care of him)

Kraken!Toji x Lighthouse keeper!Reader

It's lonely being stuck in a lighthouse everyday, but it's honest work to lead every kind of ship to safety. One night, you seem to lure something that isn't a ship to your lighthouse. (And yeah this one is for the tentacles. What about it.)

Ghostface!Gojo + Ghostface!Geto x Detective!Reader

You're close to finding out who the killer is, only to find out that there were two all along. And they want to pay you back for being such a good detective and finding their hideout.. In a secluded area.. with no one around for miles.. with no signal.. Did I mention your radio was broken?

Dilf!Sukuna + Milf!Yorozu x Reader

Imagine bagging a (RICH) married couple by being a broke and stressed out uni student 🤩 What a dream. Anyway, you come over to your best friend's house while they're out and spend some time getting to know their parents. Personally.

Also theres not alot of Yorozu content and I kinda want to change that

Nerdjo x Playboy/Jock!Reader

Your parents signed you up for tutoring lessons you didn't really care about, but hey, at least your tutor was cute. But the usually timid and bashful guy was getting fed up with your dismissive and lazy attitude, deciding that this session, he'd teach you a lesson you wouldn't forget.

Sentient Robot!Uraume x Creator!Reader

You demonstrate to the board of directors just how efficient your creation can be- Cooking, cleaning, fucking and laundry, they can just about do anything! (Yes, you two fuck in front of a crowd. They're very impressed after so it's fine!!)

Scientist!Shoko x Creation!Reader

She's keeping you, much to the chagrin of the board who want you gone. But how could she get rid of you? Her perfect little creation, always at her beck and call, always ready to help her relieve some stress by putting your head between her legs <3

Clones!Sukuna x Reader

Idk much about this one, all I know is that all three of them fuck you silly

Puppyboy!Toji x Kitty!Reader

Not much to say either, mostly thought about this because i KNEW what title I'd give it if I ever did write it. But I'm thinking stray pup that you took in and showed sweet love n care to, now hes big and grown thanks to you. Hes at that phase where hes just so needy and doesnt know where else to go to feel good except you, so when you finally relent and help him release all that pent up frustration, he cant get enough.

Had to rewrite this so it's way shorter than what i first wrote but thats ok 🫶 (think 2-3 paragraphs condensed into 1)

These are all nasty smh 😔 If anyone at all likes the sound of these do tell me your thoughts 👀 if any of them gives you inspiration to write something, please tag me!!

I give you all FULL permission to take these ideas and roll with them🙏

[weirdsht]

Helooo :ppp

Would it be ok if we get more yan!cale. He makes me so thirsty dawg... 😞 Crazy scenarios will always be on top. Like what if they find out the reader has a weak ass heart (me) and reader's been fighting with them against war since like forever

Recuperation - Yan!Cale/Reader

a/n: i swear you guys took a peek at my notes and forced me to write prompts i've been procrastinating. this and that other req about isekai reader has been on my notes rotting. also i'm working on it but i'm still struggling to write yanderes

tags: reader's gender not specified, yandere Cale, confined reader, hints of gaslighting and manipulation

English isn’t my first language so there will be grammatical errors

Pls don't repost my work anywhere without my permission

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Navigation Masterlist

First, it started for hours, then it became days. Days turned into weeks, and before you knew it you have been confined in your room for months now. It’s not like you’re imprisoned inside your room, at least that’s what Ron tells you, rather, it’s for your safety.

You try to understand their point of view, you really do. But man does it get boring and tiring really fast. Especially when you know that the rest of the group is out there, adventuring everywhere.

It wasn’t like this from the start. You used to be part of the missions Cale leads. Used to practically not see the underground manor as you were too busy running here and there. In fact, before that day you used to be the person Cale trusted the most when it came to infiltration.

Then everything changed when you suddenly felt lightheaded before a mission.

“You okay?”

Cale asked as he looked at you with that nonchalant yet caring gaze of his. You held out your hand, asking him to give you a moment before answering.

“I’m fine, I just felt lightheaded for a moment. Probably because things had been so hectic lately.”

Your lover nodded and continued his preparation. However, he made sure to monitor you closely as he was still worried.

Turns out his concerns aren’t unfounded.

One simple lightheadedness turned into full-on dizziness. Then while on the mission you felt more out of breath than usual. You were also sweating more when the work wasn’t even that strenuous.  

You were showing clear signs that you were sick so everyone silently agreed to wrap it up quickly. And you were thankful for that because you barely managed to hold on while finishing the mission.

After that, you fainted and that’s when everyone started coddling you.

“Ron until when must I stay here?”

You looked at the old servant with pleading eyes. Of course that blasted geezer only smiled at you like he always does.

“The young master already told you that you are free to leave your room.”

With that usual calm and composed poise of his, Ron poured tea for you as you finished the last of your dinner. You took the teacup with grateful hands but still flashed a frown at his response.

Both of you knew that was not the answer you were looking for.

“Let’s ask Saint-nim to take another look at you when they come back and we’ll decide from there.”

The answer only made you frown more because you already knew that being as healthy as before is almost impossible. 

And so you tried to control your temper. Logically, you knew that it would only make your condition worse. Could trigger your heart to become erratic once more.

Nevertheless, a part of you has had enough. You felt dead, you felt envious of everyone else being busybodies while Cale wouldn’t even let you outside your room without a servant following your tail.

“We all know that won’t do anything! I already promised I would take better care of myself, why won’t any of you listen to me!? I’m tired… I’m sick and tired of being here! I feel so incompetent, it’ll be better to let me die in the Forest of Darkness!”

At the end of your shouting session, you were heaving and clutching your chest. Ron, already expecting this merely took the necessary measures to take care of you. As he does a knock sounded on the door before it opened revealing Cale Henituse himself.

He entered your room as if he owned the place, well he does but the point stands, and sat down on the side of your bed once Ron was done.

“I could hear you shouting from the stairs. I told you not to get worked up, it’s not good for you.”

That handsome face of his frowned before kissing your forehead. Still angry, you turned your head away from him. Cale’s frown deepened slightly but he let it go, he's not going to stoop so low that he’ll fight a patient.

Ron cleans up before leaving the room, creating privacy for you and your partner.

“How did tricking White Star go?”

You grumbled silently, still concerned about everyone’s welfare.

“It took longer than expected but we had fruitful results.”

“Everything could’ve been done faster if you allowed me to join the war.”

Cale didn’t answer for a few moments. Opting to caress your hair instead. It was as if he was gathering his thoughts. Trying to think of the best way to make you understand his side.

“You’re concerned, I understand… but this is jarring my love. I cannot keep living like this.”

As Cale can’t seem to find the words, you let him know that you understand.

“You won’t I promise, I wouldn’t do that to you.”

Cale let’s go of your hair to caress your cheeks instead. Each stroke of his hand conveys the concern he carries with him every day. He can’t help but worry even though you are in the safest place he knows of.

“So please just bear with it. Just until you stabilize or until we can find a solution of some sort.”

You nodded and that was the end of the conversation as you dozed off thanks to your lover’s doting. It didn’t take long for you to fall into a deep sleep as your heart finally calmed down.

When Cale noticed you were sound asleep he tucked you in before pressing a kiss in your temple.

“I’m not so cruel that I will imprison you, but I do need to find a way to monitor you no matter where you go. Need to make sure that you will be safe at every step.”

Cale stood up from your bed so he could turn off the lights.

“So just until I’ve planted people all over this world and beyond, please patiently wait.”

He walks towards the door to go to his. Usually, he and the kids would sleep with you, but you need some quality rest so they’ll do that another time.

“I’m doing all of this for your safety after all.”

With that, he shut the door behind him. Leaving you inside the little cocoon he has created for you. Unaware of the bloodbath he has been causing in the name of keeping you safe.

[mrs-elsie-barnes]

Masterlist for Hot Bucky Summer 2025

by @buckybarnesevents

✔️Week 1: June 1st - June 7th - Lifting Spirits - Thunderbolts*!Bucky x Reader

“Mind your own damn business.” | [Secret Sex/Relationship | Embarrassment | Denial]

✔️Week 2: June 8th - June 14th - Countdown SamBuckyJoaquín

“Did I give you permission?” | [Cock Cage | Orgasm Delay/Denial | Master/Pet Roleplay] 

✔️Week 3: June 15th - June 21st - Needy Thunderbolts*!Bucky x Reader

“Not now!” | [Heat/Rut | Rushed Sex | Exhibitionism]

✔️Week 4: June 22nd - June 28th - My Aphrodisiac - Sarge!Bucky x Babydoll!Reader

FREE WEEK | [Optional prompts: “A” - Auto-fellatio,  Aftercare, Aphrodisiac, Anal Play, Ass-to-mouth, Ahegao]

Week 5 June 29th - July 5th - Mob Rules!Bucky x Bambi!Reader

“Play with it.” | [Cock Worship | Forced Masturbation | Come Play]

Week 6: July 6th - July 12th - Thunderbolts*!Bucky x Bob Reynolds

“I need help.” | [Sex Pollen | Erectile Dysfunction | Fuck or Die] 

Week 7: July 13th - July 19th - The Barnes Family! Bucky x Mrs Barnes!Reader

“Put this on.” | [Blindfolds | Lingerie | Gag/Collars]

Week 8: July 20th - July 26th - Prologue to Unhappily Married - Congressman - Thunderbolts*!Bucky x Reader

“Have it your way, then.” | [Brat | Punishment | Sub/Dom Relationship]

Week 9: July 27th - August 2nd - Sequel to Let the Rain Fall - Bucky x Autistic!Reader

FREE WEEK | Optional Prompts: “S” - Sex Toys, Stomach Bulge, Somnophilia, Stuckage, Saliva Play]

Week 10: August 3rd - August 9th - My Aphrodisiac Part 2 - Sarge!Bucky x Babydoll!Reader

“I can’t.” | [Big Cock | Anal Training | Forced Orgasm]

Week 11: August 10th - August 16th - Mob Rules!Bucky x Reader

"You look good like this.”| [Marked Up | Tied Down | Ruined]

Week 12: August 17th - August 23rd

“You can’t be real.” | [Fantasy Character | Monsterfucking | Dreaming/Daydreaming] 

Week 13 August 24th - August 30th

FREE WEEK | [Optional Prompts: “M” - (Mutual) Masturbation, Masochism, Medical Play, Milking, Musk, Multiple Orgasms]

[tune-on-in-folks]

Day 10! This prompt is CNC/Dub-Con/Non-con, so sensitive topic. Vox doesn't explicitly ask for Reader's permission.

I struggled with this prompt, but hey I did write something!

Tags/Warnings: CNC, dub-con, non-con, top Vox, desk sex, fingering, p in v sex, fem!reader Word Count: 2,060

There was a long list of reasons why Vox could be upset. From Alastor to Valentino, to something not going as planned. You were used to Vox’s volatile moods, watching him swing from one to the next. He could go from berating the incompetence of a lowly worker, threatening them with being Valentino’s target practice, one minute; To charming the public with his suave personality and handsome smile, in the next. It was enough to give you whiplash.

Luckily for you, you had never been on the receiving end of his frustrations. You were careful, almost to an anxious degree. You ensured that everything you presented Vox with was top notch, not a word mistyped, or a single smudge of ink. In turn you never got yelled at or talked down to. Which was nice…You adored your boss, admired him. Wanted to stay on his good side, and the occasional wet dream of him was something you ignored. After all, it was Vox, who hadn’t fantasized about him?

Unfortunately today, you were a mess, distracted and bumbling. Everything seemed to be going wrong, but that was okay, you could handle it with grace. What you couldn't handle was the fact that your incompetence was directly affecting your boss. Enough so, that he personally came to your office to demand an explanation.

The door opened, catching your attention as you tried to get your computer to stop freaking out.

“One moment!” You call, muttering curses under your breath about the incompetence of your VoxTek issued laptop.

You hadn't realized that it was your boss who had entered, or you would have dropped your task immediately. And you certainly would not have been cursing out the computer he had designed.

“Stupid piece of shit!” You curse loudly, slamming the laptop shut.

This brought you face to face with Vox who quirked an unamused eyebrow at your outburst. You felt the blood drain from your face.

“Oh. Um, S-sir! What can I help you with?” You stammer, aware of how unprofessional your display was.

He held up the report you had sent up an hour ago. “What is this crap?” He asks, sounding exasperated.

You blink, your heart dropping at the sight of it. “I..ah, well it's my latest report.”

“Uh-huh.” He prompts, “and it's utter crap. So you should?”

You swallow. “Rewrite it, I know.”

You opened your laptop back up, pressing the power button. Only for it not to power on. You held the button down again, a groan of frustration slipping from you.

“And I would, if my computer didn't just fucking die on me.” You sigh, gently closing it as you meet Vox's gaze again. “I'm sorry, Sir.”

He clicks his tongue, entering into your office further, slamming the report down on your desk. “Unfortunately, sorry isn't going to cut it, Dollface. Your report was lackluster, forcing me to improvise in a very important meeting.”

You swallow nervously, anxiety blooming in your chest. You open your mouth to apologize again, but Vox quickly grabs hold of your chin, closing your mouth.

“You’re going to make this up to me, got it? And if I hear another “I’m sorry” from you, I'll make sure that your mouth is put to better use.”

You swallow hard, blush settling on your face at his words. You could only imagine what he had meant with his threat. 

“I-I'm sorry?” You ask, wanting clarification, not for one second interpreting that the words were also another apology. 

At the quirk of his eyebrow you realize what you'd said, “Shit! I mean- fuck! Clarify?”

He chuckles darkly, standing up to his full towering height. Vox comes around your desk, pulling you up from your chair.

“I mean…that I will fuck that pretty little mouth of yours if you apologize one more time.”

Your face flushed with even more heat, you had thought that was what he meant, but to hear him actually say it? A slight amount of panic ran through you, tinged with a warmth that settled in your core. “I uh…didn't mean to say it again.”

“I'm sure you didn't.” Vox muses, a wicked glint in his eyes. “But you still need to pay for your report… and a new computer.”

“A new computer?” You echo softly, brows furrowed in confusion.

You watch as Vox turns to your desk, sweeping everything off, including your laptop.

“Vox!” You yell in surprise, gasping as he grabs your hand.

He pulls you to him, bending you over your desk and pulling up your skirt. Your eyes widen with panic as you try to sit up, only for him to press you back down. His hand trails up the back of your thigh to your panties, the sensation causing you to shiver.

“Lucky for you, I’ll let that last apology slide.” He says softly, his fingers hooking in the waistband of your panties.

“S-sir?” You ask hesitantly, trepidation in your voice, mixing with arousal. “What are you doing?”

Vox presses his chest against your back, sliding your panties down your legs. “I’m collecting my dues. Now, say my name again, doll. I want to hear you say it.”

You take a deep breath, your voice wavering. “V-Vox.” 

Why were you following his commands? He hadn’t asked your permission one bit, taking advantage of you.

“Atta girl.” He chuckles, his fingers finding your clit.

You gasp at the contact, a moan spilling from your lips as he rubs tight circles into the sensitive nub. You weren't doing anything to stop him, you wondered if you wanted to stop him. You bite your bottom lip, hands coming to grasp the edge of the desk as he slipped two fingers inside your sopping cunt. You cried out at the sensation, your eyes fluttering as he began to finger you. You knew if you wanted to stop him you would have, and you truly didn’t want him to stop. Your body betrayed your arousal, showing Vox just how much you wanted him to keep going.

“So wet for me.” His voice is full of lust and desire. “you know it's taken everything in me to wait to fuck you? Unfortunately, I can't wait anymore, babydoll.”

You whine, rolling your hips back against his fingers “W-what?” You ask, confusion biting through your arousal.

You never thought any of your fantasies about Vox would come to light. Yet here you were, pressed against your own desk, getting fingered by him. You couldn’t find it in yourself to ask him to stop, to point out that he was your boss. That he shouldn’t be doing this.

He speeds up his pace, the wet sounds of your cunt filling the air. “I've seen the way you look at me, doll. And I won't deny that I've thought about it. Thought about you.”

Your walls clench around his fingers, your eyes shutting tight. You hear the clinking of his belt behind him, the unzipping of his pants. You moan softly, trying to keep quiet. He was really going to fuck you, you realize. The thought sends a thrill through you, the idea of him fucking you just made you more aroused.

“Vox.” You moan, breath coming in short gasps.

“That’s right babydoll, say my name. I love when you say my name, it makes me so hard.” He murmurs, his voice right in your ear.

“F-fuck!” You gasp, not having expected those words to turn you on as much as they did.

“Let go for me doll, cum for me.”

You whine at his words, your release sneaking up on you. You moan loudly, cumming around his fingers. When your walls stopped twitching, he pulled his fingers from you. You were left feeling empty, wanting.

“Please.” You whimper, feeling his cock-head pressing against your entrance a moment later.

Vox hums, his hands grasping your hips as he runs his cock through your slick, “Please?” He asks, “Please what?”

“Fuck…” You whine, glancing over your shoulder at him. “Please-”

He thrust forward, his cock sliding half-way inside you, your own moans cutting you off from whatever you were going to say. He watches you as he begins to press the rest of his cock inside you. You whimper, your body trying to pull away from him with how deep he pressed inside you. He felt big, impossibly big.

“Too much.” You gasp, trying and failing to pull away from him. “Vox, you’re too big!”

He chuckles darkly, “Oh darling, I’m perfectly proportioned.”

He thrust forward again, his cock-head pressing against your cervix, causing you to cry out.

“And you will take all of me.” He whispers, pressing further in until you feel like you can’t take anything more.

Vox groans, his face pressing against your shoulder as he bottoms out. He begins to pull from your weeping cunt slowly, until just the head of his cock was inside you. Vox thrust forward, snapping his hips back into you. You gasp, the pain from his thrust blooming into pleasure. He felt too big and not big enough all at once. Everytime he pulled from your cunt you missed the feeling of him being buried inside you. But when he was inside you, it felt like too much. Vox shifted slightly, angling his cock deeper as he began to pick up his pace. Your office was filled with the obscene noises of him fucking you, hard and fast. You were faintly aware that anyone passing by would be able to hear.

“Vox!” You moan, his hips slapping against your bare ass. “Oh, fuck…”

One of his hands moves from your hip, slipping down to rub at your clit. “Fuck you feel sinful, so tight and perfect, like this cunt was made for me.” He mutters. 

Your body shuddered with the pure pleasure you were feeling. Every sharp snap of his hips planted seeds of pain that quickly bloomed into pure pleasure. His finger rubbing small, fast circles around your clit had your walls squeezing his cock in a vice-like grip. You were so close to your release, it was almost painful.

“Fucck!” Vox gasped, his voice glitching as he pressed into you, past your fluttering muscles. “Cum for me, babydoll, let me feel you cum around my cock.”

You moan, a second release crashing over your body for him. It was like your body was his at this point, following his every command without hesitation. Vox’s pace faltered, his breaths coming heavier.

“Fuck, I’m going to cum inside your tight little pussy, fill you up.” He growled, “Make you mine.”

You couldn’t do much else but whimper, your body on fire with how sensitive you were. Vox managed only a few more thrusts before slamming his cock as deep as he could go, his seed filling you. You moaned lowly, the sensation of your boss cumming inside you, sending you tumbling into a final release. Your walls squeezed around his cock, milking him for every drop he had to give you.

“Fuck, babydoll.” Vox gasped, slowly pulling his cock from you.

He chuckled at you whining at the loss of him, admiring how his seed leaked from your cunt, the sight made his cock twitch again. You tried to press yourself up onto your arms, but they quickly gave out from beneath you. Vox leaned forward, reaching for your panties that hung loosely around your knees. He pulled them up, patting your cunt through them, making you gasp and moan at the sensation. He pulled your skirt back down, covering your ass, before he helped you up off your desk. He turned you to face him, holding you in his arms, his softening cock pressing against your stomach.

“I’ll ensure you have a new laptop sent to your office tomorrow.” He says softly, making sure you could stand on your own before tucking himself away.

You nod, slightly dazed. “R-Right. I’ll rewrite that report tomorrow then.”

Vox heads to the door, pausing before leaving, “Don’t bother. Just ensure the next is better. Oh and y/n?”

You glance up, surprised he had used your name. “Yes, sir?”

“I’ll see you tonight, I’m not done with you yet. And use my name, you deserve to after taking my cock so well.”

You flush in embarrassment, watching Vox leave your office with a promise that you knew he intended to keep.

[androdragynous]

I know i complained about the stardew valley penny and George cutscene at length but the it really is fucking. bizarre the lengths people will go to defend it because "the game lets you pick to side with him" (please do literally any reading about wheelchair use and realize why it's a problem that the game rewards you for moving someone without their consent.) or variants of that sentiment but then it's like. the rest of the cutscene is also So Weird

Like. Penny moves an old man in a wheelchair without asking him. He gets upset, she asks if you saw what happened The game prompts you to select from;

"I was. You did a kind thing there, Penny." (+50 friendship with Penny)

"I was. You should've asked instead of assuming George wanted help." (-50 friendship with Penny)

"I'm just taking a walk, minding my own business." (No effect on friendship.)

And these are the REVISED options. Before 1.4, the second option wasn't"you should have asked", it was "You should've left him alone. Now he's grumpy."

So already it's kind of shit. The person she's upset - who's entire existence in the game is experiencing inaccessibility, let's be real - because he was shoved without permission just for being in a wheelchair doesn't have his friendship level affected at all.

Regardless of which answer you pick, George apologizes (Penny does not apologize in every choice! But the guy she shoved does!) and says she was kind.

Once he's gone, she talks about how hard it must be to be old. It's worth noting, for what it's worth, that George has been using a wheelchair since a mining accident caused his immobility; it's not a result of age, and you learn about this whole he struggles with a bookshelf in his own home, where presumably he has been living with a wheelchair for at least two decades (given how he talks about his grandson), which is a whole different can of worms because why is this never addressed in a fictional community with multiple craftspeople who frequently do projects for each other?

Anyways. So Penny's like, damn, sucks that he's old. And the options the game gives you - all neutral in terms of friendship points - are:

"I'd rather not think about it."

"It's just a different part of life."

"That's why we should respect our elders."

"I'd rather die young..."

Like are you kidding me? You have a cutscene that's about being disabled - it's not about aging, because his disability was not caused by aging, it is explicitly and directly about the fact that he is in a wheelchair. And the game assumes your opinions will be "Not my problem,", "That's an old people thing,", and "I'D RATHER BE DEAD"? And this is something people just... don't remark on? Even in conversations ABOUT this cutscene? Like, George's mentions of being disabled are already Constantly Miserable -able-bodied writer standard quality - but the game is just like. Yeah you can say you'd rather be dead rather than express any positive sentiment about this guy surviving a traumatic mining accident. You can't say it's great that he's able to still be a part of the community in his chair, or renovate his house to make it accessible the way you can build ENTIRE HOMES for other characters. The community center you rebuild in the Good Ending for the community is only accessible by stairs. The path out of his home is dirt. It's the little things, y'know, like... obviously he wasn't thought about as his own character. The game's writing sees him as a source of conflict for others, and down to the very tiles of the terrain, he's irrelevant.

AND THEN THE TOWN DOCTOR DOES A HIPAA VIOLATION AND GETS SAD IF YOU SAY GEORGE SHOULD HAVE AGENCY OVER HIS OWN BODY. WHAT ARE WE FUCKING DOING HERE

[whoopsyeahokay]

Silly Boy

summary: prompt fill. Wally is having a shit day. and it's kind of (totally) your fault. and just when he's about to be a brat about it, complain until you listen, you make everything better. (request)

pairing: Wally Clark x male!reader

warnings: smut. oneshot. sub!Wally Clark. dead dove. sex toys. private sex in public places.

bon reading, frens

___________________________🪃

Silly Boy

It's Friday.

Wally loves Fridays.

No football practice. Homework can wait until the last minute, two days from now. He can stay up as late as he wants, do whatever he wants, wherever he wants, with whoever he wants. His parents don't pay much attention to him on the weekend, their own social calendars full, and Wally is at liberty to relax in his hard-earned freedom.

Except this Friday.

Fuck.

This Friday, he's frustrated. About to crawl out of his skin. Class is too long, too boring, too right now when all he wants to do is grab you and drag you somewhere private so you can alleviate what you've done to him.

You texted your instructions before his alarm. Like you knew before Wally did that the week would catch up with him by 8AM. And it did. Hard. He went from excited for the end of school to pulling his hair out when he remembered the History assignment he was only halfway through.

Then his knee smarted when he tried to get a workout in, twinging when he deadlifted the barbell, Jesus Christ, which meant he might need to sit out most of Tuesday's game.

Yeah. Wally's not okay, even though it's Friday and that end-of-week high is supposed to carry him through the day.

And there you are, two rows ahead, slumped lazily over your desk, giving him a lax smile and lax eyes, a slow wink that tells Wally you know exactly how he feels right now, but you don't care. In fact, you're happy about it because it was your idea and Wally, like the fucking bitch he is, obeyed.

He always does. Can't say no to you. Never tried, to be fair, and doesn't want to since you seem to read him like a picture book and can anticipate what Wally needs before he can put it into words.

Wally trusts you, he does, but right now, in this moment, he wants to strangle you and ask you why you're doing this to him, please, give him a hint, tell him he's being good and that you'll give him a hand later, do something, say something.

Not that you can with Ms. Fields lecturing about the Great Depression. God, could the clock move any slower!?

He shifts in his seat. It moves, nudges his g-spot, and his cock twitches. He's been sporting a semi since he got up, had to change into his sweatpants and jersey between 1st and 2nd just to avoid attention. And it fucking aches.

Face flushed, eyes bright, breathing deep and shallow by turns, doing everything in his power to look normal when he's not.

You're the fucking worst.

Trust me, baby xx, you texted at lunch, easy smirk on your face as you watched Wally squirm over his tray of tater tots and whatever meatloaf-adjacent meal the lunch lady had slopped onto his plate.

He hates you.

You love me, and then, it'll be worth it, baby boy, just be patient.

Wally turns his phone over in his lap, fixing his gaze on the blackboard, his other fist clenched into his sweatpants at his thigh, so close to where he wants to touch himself but won't without express permission.

He's not going to make it. He's going to die here, in this classroom, in this seat, surrounded by people who don't fucking get it and will mock his corpse mercilessly when they discover he can't even handle one little request.

He almost propels into the ceiling when the final bell rings, knocked back into reality in the worst way after his body jolts, jostling the plug just right and making him choke back a whine.

You take your sweet time gathering your stuff. One fucking pencil at a time, neatly stacking your notes and placing them between the pages of your textbook, and you're all smiles and charm for Ms. Fields, bidding her a great weekend as you wait for Wally to move.

He can't. Not while Ms. Fields—not while anyone—is still in the classroom. His cock is too hard now, a growing stain in grey fabric that he doesn't think he can hide under his jersey. Wally sends you a pleading look, lower lip this close to wobbling in his desperation.

Without much effort, you manage to convince Ms. Fields that you and Wally are going to use the classroom to brainstorm for an English project. You say it so casually that Ms. Fields thinks it's her idea to leave you and Wally alone.

Thank Christ, because Wally is about to explode. Implode. Plode in general, if that's even a thing (it's not).

You saunter up to his desk, Wally still seated, trembling almost imperceptibly as you pin him with a stare so intense it's like physical touch. Raking down Wally's body and settling on his cock.

"You feeling desperate for me, baby?" You ask, but it's not a question. Wally can see it in the way you lick your lips that you already know the answer is a resounding Fuck Yes.

Coaxing Wally up, you step back and wait for him to grab his bag. Leaning against the desk behind you, body loose, expression mild, just watching as if everything is completely normal and you didn't tell Wally that morning to fuck a plug into his ass and wear it all day.

As Wally straightens, so do you, leaning into his space as you run your fingers down his lower back to between his ass cheeks through his sweatpants. You press firmly, eyes lighting up when you feel the base through the fabric.

"Such a good boy for me, aren't you?" You purr in Wally's ear, and, shit, okay, he might need to sit down again or else he's going to puddle to the floor.

Wally whimpers, a tight little sound pulled from his throat, and he looks at you with so much need you can't possibly misinterpret it.

"Please," He croaks, "I can't—I need...please." He finishes lamely, not entirely sure how to express what he's feeling.

"I've got you, baby," You say and curl your arm around his waist, hand on his low back, guiding him out of the classroom and toward your locker.

God dammit, you make Wally wait again. Trading textbooks you don't need for the ones you do, all while merrily talking about something Simon told you in Spanish. The amount of willpower Wally summons not to tap his foot or huff or glare should be considered an anatomical miracle.

Finally, you take pity on him. Sort of. You close your locker and lean your shoulder against it, that fucking sexy as hell smile playing on your lips, your eyes heavy-lidded as you comb your gaze from Wally's feet to his mouth to his pleading eyes.

"You look like you're about to combust, baby boy," And do you have to say it like that? Like it's the most amusing thing in the world to you? Like Wally's some sideshow freak you get to entertain you on a Friday because you know he'll do anything you ask, perfect little boy, needing to be so good for you so you know he loves you.

Sliding your hand in his, you tug him against you, nip the soft join between his neck and shoulder, and then murmur, "Come on, babe, let me help you out."

The walk to the locker rooms is hell, but, upon entering, Wally understands why you took so long at your locker. It's empty apart from one or two stragglers cleaning up after gym. You wait them out, slanting Wally another lazy wink, and, God, that shouldn't be as hot as it is. How confident and in control you are, like nothing ever bothers you.

Meanwhile, Wally's head is spinning off, and he's seconds away from sobbing on the floor in the fetal position.

Once the locker room is completely empty, you lope to the door and lock it, the click echoing through the space. Then you turn, fold your arms and give Wally a wolfish grin, eyes hot and heavy.

"Strip for me, baby."

Wally has never been happier to oblige one of your commands. He's out of his shoes in seconds, shoves his sweatpants and boxers down in one go, kicks them under the bench, and pulls his jersey off too fast that his head gets stuck.

He's trembling, stood there staring at you like you're the only person who can fix him. And you are, aren't you? You're going to help him, make his mind quiet, his anxiety disappear, every muscle and bone relax. That's what you do.

In slow, even steps, you approach, a lion to his prey, and then run a hand down Wally's chest to his belly to his cock. Hand wrapped around him, not enough grip, not enough pressure or friction, just stroking a loose fist from tip to base and back again as you hold Wally's gaze.

"So fucking wet for me," You praise, smoothing pre down his shaft and making him quiver like a girl. You lick your lips, and he can see your body shift as you toe your shoes off. One, the other, then, "Take my jeans off."

Wally does as he's told without hesitation. Makes quick work of the fly, lowers to his knees to peel you out of your jeans. He lingers, face in front of your hard cock, his breathing ratcheting up a notch as he smells your musk and starts to crave.

Just as he's about to lean forward, you grab him by the hair and angle his face up, "Not yet, pretty boy."

He keens, pouting, so desperate to taste you, to feel the weight of you on his tongue. But, again, he listens like a good boy. Your good boy.

Once you're naked, you lead him into the showers. Let's relax for a minute, you say so unconcerned it blows Wally's mind that you can be hard as fucking stone yet cool as a cucumber. How the hell do you do it? Because Wally? Is right on the brink of a mental breakdown.

You guide him under the spray, the water hot and steamy, and you begin to wash him. Turn him around and glide the soap over his shoulders, his back, down down down to his ass where you tease the base of the plug. Fingers wrapped around it, softly pulling it out a fraction then driving it back in so Wally has to hold himself against the tile before he falls face-first into it.

"God, you're so eager, aren't you, baby boy?" You hum, thoughtful, totally lacking the same frustration and need that Wally's about to burst from. He feels your breath on his ear, the tip of your tongue under the lobe before your teeth nip. Wally shakes. "You gonna suck me off? Show me what a good boy you can be for me..."

Wally spins on unsteady feet, his face slack in desire. You put a hand on his shoulder and encourage him to his knees, your hand around the base of your cock. Slap the tip against his lower lip twice before commanding, "Open up, baby. Let me feel you."

Wally moans, deep and guttural and so fucking slutty that he feels you twitch on his tongue. You gently push yourself into his mouth, into his throat, so thick and perfect, his mind shuts down immediately, and this is all he understands. Nothing else exists. Just you. Just him. Just this.

His hands clench your ass as he swallows around you, bobs his head and makes a show of it. Sounds spill out of him that only you can get him to make, and he'd be embarrassed if he wasn't so fucking into it. When you start fucking his face for real, Wally almost comes, his cock heavy and aching as he humps the air.

Your ragged breathing fills the space, loud over the spray of the shower, and you look so good, sex incarnate; eyes closed in bliss, lips parted. Your hand in Wally's hair grips tighter, and suddenly Wally's on his feet, bodily turned around and pressed into the wall.

You grab him by the hips, "Bend over, baby, I need to fuck you," and those are the best words Wally's ever heard in his life. Still, despite your intention, you play with the plug, in and out, in and out, slow and infuriating, and Wally whines in desperation. God, why? Just do it, come on, please, just get inside him, just fuck him, just do it.

In one swift yank, the plug is out and then he feels the fat tip of your cock breach. Wally moans in ecstasy, in relief, in pure, unholy joy. Hedonist and wanton, and so far under he's transported to another dimension. Your cock fills him again and again, punishing, hard, rough; your grip on his hips bruising as you knock him into the wall over and over.

The slap of your hips against his ass is lewd and hot and everything Wally wants filling his ears. The feeling of you stuffing him full like heaven. Fuck, Christ, it's so good, you're so good, thank you, thank you, thank you—

You hit his prostate with military precision, never missing, never stuttering, and, oh God, he's going to come. Has been waiting for this all day, impatient but good because you asked him to be. And he is good, isn't he? He needs you to say it so badly, please, fuck, please tell him—

"Such a good boy," You praise, breathless, groaning as your hips start to lose rhythm and it all becomes deep, forceful strokes. "My good boy." You grab his cock and let him fuck your fist until, "You gonna come for me, baby? Come on, let me feel it, come for me."

And that's it, that's all it takes, Wally's fucking gone, coming in thick ropes against the tile, sobbing a combination of your name and his gratitude, oh God, oh fuck, he can't see, can't think, isn't even human anymore.

"Yeah, that's it, baby, like that, so good, fuck," You grunt and then moan, a long, rich sound as you come inside him, hips moving until you've used Wally to milk everything out of you.

Wally slumps against the wall, panting, and takes your weight on his back. Revels in it. Solid muscle and hard lines.

He whimpers when you pull out, hates feeling so empty, but you're there, hands all over him, moving him around so that you and he are seated on the floor. Wally between your legs, his head resting back against your shoulder while you run your hands over his sides and chest in soothing motions.

"You did so good, baby," You tell him, kiss down his neck, teeth grazing his ear, "You were so patient. Always so good for me."

Wally doesn't have the strength or wherewithal to respond. Simply nuzzles his face into your throat and stays there. His mind is quiet. He doesn't care about the History assignment that's now overdue, or the game on Tuesday, or anything else for that matter.

You fixed him like you always do. Knew exactly what he needed before he did, and now he's putty in your hands just like he is every time you and he do this.

Maybe he doesn't hate you.

Maybe you're the fucking best.

🪃___________fin.____________

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if you enjoyed this, you may also enjoy Boy Noise.

sub!Wally smut. Wally's waited a whole week for you to notice he still exists and he's going crazy. finally, he manages to get your attention and you dote on your sweet boy the way he's been so desperate for you to.