#was just doing silly stuff to get back in the swing of things after the aforementioned sickness

[taxlthomas]

Should probably post these few sketches now instead’a later today huh

[rafesangelita]

♡ after receiving sex dice as a gag gift from your girlfriends, courtesy of your early galentine’s day party, you decide to bring them into the bedroom and rafe is surprisingly on board..

warnings: sex dice lol, established relationship, flirty banter, laughing during sex, oral sex (m. & f. receiving), unprotected sex, so many descriptions of positions please bare with me, slight degradation, praise, rafe’s d game is a1 (!!!), marathon sex (?), overstimulation, crying, squirting, multiple orgasms, cream pie

a/n: now presenting… ‘ROLL THE DICE!’ 🤍 i felt like i was at war while trying to explain these positions in clear detail lol, just know i tried my best!

link: VALENTINE’S DAY CELEBRATION ໒꒰ྀི｡- ˕ -｡꒱ྀི১

wc: 2.4k

rafe had been eyeing the pink gift bag you brought back from your best friend’s house, his curiosity only growing when you refused to let him see what was inside. “just let me see! what is it? girl stuff?” you laughed, taking the bag in your hands. “you could say that..” your teasing tone was torturing him, the anticipation making rafe groan. “come on!” he finally reached for the bag, snatching it at the same time you pulled, making everything in the flimsy gift bag fall onto your bed. “well, that’s great..” you whispered, watching as your boyfriend inspected the contents.

“pink condoms.. we don’t use those. chocolates, a face mask, a sephora gift card, some earrings, and.. hey, what’s in this red pouch?” your cheeks heated as he pulled on the drawstring, two pink dice falling into his hand. “oh.. babe, this is sex dice!” he laughed, glancing up at you incredulously as you hid your face in your hands. “it’s just a silly little gag gift, nothing more.” you waved it off, taking a seat next to him on your shared bed. you’d be lying if you said you didn’t think it’d be fun to try out, but knowing rafe, you knew he wasn’t really one for games.

he studied them, flipping the many facets of the dice. “..i don’t know, they have some pretty good positions on here,” he shrugged, “what do you think?” your eyes shot up to meet his, a pang of excitement lighting up in your tummy. “r-really?!” you smiled, your boyfriend pulling you on top of his lap before he nodded. “yeah, look in that pouch for what the number dice means.” you obliged, taking the small folded up piece of paper that was the instructions. “oh, wow.. the number dice determines how many rounds we go.” rafe looked down at the small thing and laughed.

“it goes up to twelve,” your eyes widened as he handed you the acrylic piece, “go ahead and roll it.” you rolled onto your side, tossing the dice for both of you. “three.” rafe was starting to get excited now, his lips trailing along your neck as he gave you the dice with the positions on it. you two were easily doing more than that amount regularly. you giggled when his breath tickled your skin, your head moving to the side to allow him more access. rafe palmed you through your top, a moan leaving your lips as he ran his tongue along your flesh.

“roll the dice before i decide the positions for us.” he groaned, pressing a kiss to your jaw. sighing, you did as he said, reading the positions out loud for him. “the first one is..” you trailed off, “sixty-nine.” you laughed. rafe hummed approvingly, moving his gaze down to the comforter where you tossed the dice again. “next one is.. butterfly?” rafe mumbled a ‘we’ll look that up in a second.’ before you announced the last one. “which leaves us to do.. full nelson.” rafe might as well have jumped up and cheered by the way he excitedly shook you by your shoulders. “full nelson?! fuck, yeah!”

deciding it would be best to go in order of the dice, you and rafe found yourselves settling into your sheets, both of your clothes long gone as you turned your back to him, swinging a leg over his torso. rafe was shameless in staring at your glistening cunt, the sight of your wet folds making him take his bottom lip between teeth. “you’re so fucking pretty down here..” he marveled, taking the pads of his thumbs on both of your puffy lips before spreading them open, your needy clit revealing itself to him. you moaned, wrapping a hand around the base of his cock as he squeezed the globes of your ass.

you adjusted yourself a little bit so you were more comfortable, scooting up closer to rafe’s face as he groaned at the proximity. he was already hard just by looking at you up close like this. “can we start, baby? i need to taste you already.” you hummed sweetly, pressing a soft kiss to his tip. while you started off slow, rafe dove right in, wrapping his large arms around your thighs to keep you in place. you gasped when his tongue circled your sensitive bud, your hips bucking at the sudden intrusion. “that feels so good, rafe!” you whined, deciding to put your mouth to better use and finally wrap your lips around his aching length.

“fuck!” he cursed, his fingertips digging into your skin as your tongue worked him skillfully. you knew what drove rafe over the edge, you knew what made him lose his breath and what made his chest feel like it was going to cave in. “ah, shit, you’re so good at that.” his eyes threatened to roll to the back of his head when he felt himself hit the back of your throat. rafe landed a harsh smack to your ass, the stinging sensation making you whimper. swallowing around his cock, you waited until you had tears running down your cheeks before pulling off of him with a sharp intake for air.

rafe could just imagine how much of a mess you looked like right now. swollen lips, watery eyes, spit and precum dribbling down your chin.. fuck he was tempted to drag you back up just to admire your pretty face. “you���re driving me crazy.” he huffed out, sucking your clit into his mouth where his teeth very slightly grazed the sensitive bundle of nerves. “please don’t stop!” rafe had no intentions of doing so, your boyfriend’s bruising grip on your thighs making you unable to move away from him. rafe knew you were close to cumming whenever you tried to run away from it.

swirling your tongue around his throbbing head, rafe felt the familiar tension start to build up in the pit of his stomach. he continued lapping at your sweetness until you started bobbing your head up and down his length, basically fucking your face with his cock. the wet sounds mixed with your moans was about to make rafe paint your face, but he decided against it last minute. “stopstopstopstopstop,” he pinched your side, “wanna’ save my cum for when i fill up this perfect cunt.” despite wanting to make him finish anyways, you did as he said, mumbling a ‘okay, ray..’

in almost no time, your thighs were trembling around his head, your nails raking down his skin as waves of pure euphoria washed over you, your orgasm hitting you deep in your tummy. with the side of your face resting on his thigh, you whined helplessly as your hips moved on their own accord, your hand still languidly stroking his length. you were begging him at this point for him to slow down the work on your poor overstimulated clit, your pleas going through one ear and straight out the other. “please, no more— i can’t do it!” you shrieked. rafe’s chest filled with pride knowing you were most likely ‘fucked out’ already without actually getting fucked yet.

you were struggling to move as rafe didn’t slow down his movements on your clit, another rubber band in your tummy snapping as he made you cum again, back to back. you laid there, completely at his mercy as you convulsed in his arms, your mouth open in a silent moan while your eyes rolled to the back of your head. you felt like you had transcended into another dimension, your body simply floating away somewhere else. it wasn’t until you let out a choked sob that rafe gave you a final lick, his face shining with your succulence as he massaged your skin to bring you down from your high.

how, how were you supposed to go two more rounds after that? while you were laying there, your limbs feeling like jelly, rafe was googling the butterfly position and smirking to himself as he pulled up the visual. you had something else coming if you thought you were done for right now. rafe on the other hand was just getting started. gently rolling you over, rafe stood at the edge of your bed before yanking your ankles and securing your legs to his shoulders. you moaned when you felt his heavy cock sitting between your folds, your eyes meeting his as he pressed kisses to your ankles.

“you good?” he rested his hands in the crease where your thighs and your hips met, rubbing soothing circles there until you giggled softly. “not really..” rafe smiled, threading his fingers through yours. “tell me when you want to stop, baby, it’s all you.” you nodded, your eyes fluttering shut when you felt him teasing your clit with his tip. you loved how attentive rafe was. not only towards your wellbeing, but to the little things that made you whimper and squirm. “son of a bitch..” he cursed, slowly sliding into you with ease. your back arched off of the soft sheets, your eyebrows knitting together as he filled you to the hilt.

“fuck!” no matter how many times you and rafe had each other like this, the feeling of him filling you up and your velvety walls welcoming him in was unlike any other. rafe pulled out before thrusting back in with full force, his head rolling to the side as you cried out. you kept your eyes trained on his face, occasionally stealing glances at his toned stomach and biceps. he was truly a sight to see. your tits bounced with every thrust, your bottom lip pulled between your teeth as his lower abdomen smacked the back of your thighs. “you’re doing so good for me,” he praised, “always so fuckin’ perfect.”

rafe picked up his pace, the force of his thrusts pushing you further up the bed until he had to pull you down to the edge again. you moaned as his cock continuously nudged that sweet spot inside of you, your legs now shaking around his head while he managed to get his fingers on your clit again. you were still so sensitive from your last orgasm, you couldn’t help but jolt at the hard circles being rubbed on your sensitive bud once again. rafe was so close, but he wanted to hold off from cumming for as long as possible, preferring to make you finish around him first instead.

“i can’t!” you gasped, “it hurts, rafe.” as soon as you said those words, he stopped. “yeah? it’s too much for you?” you nodded, your thighs shutting around his hand in response. he leaned down, keeping your legs on his shoulders as he kissed you sloppily. “would it make you feel better if we stopped?” you laughed, stroking the underside of his jaw with your finger. “do you hear me tapping out?” you shot back, “let’s try full nelson.” rafe has been waiting for this moment for a reallyyyy long time. the only reason why you two never got to it and made it a point to try it was unknown to him, but thank goodness for sex dice, right?

you didn’t have to tell him twice. he was already pulling you on top of him as soon as he got the okay. “i can’t believe this is happening.” you smiled as you lifted your legs, rafe wasting no time in bringing his arms up and over until his hands rested on the back of your neck, securing your thighs to your shoulders. your eyes widened slightly as you realized just how exposed and compromising this position was. your cunt was on full display, your folds threatening to open on their own as your head was forced to be faced down. “you alright?” rafe grunted, pressing a kiss to the crown of your head.

“uh huh..” you sounded uneasy, a laugh falling from rafe’s lips as he adjusted himself to prod at your entrance. “don’t worry, i got you.” was the last thing he said before you watched him enter you agonizingly slow. your lips parted at the sight. rafe kept going until he bottomed out, the tip of his cock kissing your cervix. you swear you’ve never felt him this deep before, it was almost like he was in your tummy. “oh my god..” you whimpered, your eyes watering at how full you were. rafe was fighting every urge not to spill into you, his eyes screwing shut as he began a steady pace.

“shit, you’re wrapped around me so fuckin’ tight, m’not gonna last.” he said through gritted teeth. you were hiccuping and panting as he thrusted into you from below, the lewd sounds of skin meeting skin bouncing off of your bedroom walls. rafe angled his hips in a way that made you shriek, a knowing smile making its way to his lips as you now had tears streaming down your face. “i bet you look like a fucking mess right now.” he cursed, using one of his hands to snake down your side before giving your clit a small pinch. your head shot back while you looked up at the ceiling helplessly.

“r-rafe..” you were barely able to get his name out, your hands flying to hold onto his arm. you felt an unfamiliar pressure building up in the pit of your stomach as he continued rubbing your poor bud into your second orgasm of the night. “let it go go for me, ‘pretty, let me feel it.” you couldn’t even shut your thighs because of his strength forcing them open, a shaky breath emitting from your throat as your high ripped right through you, rendering you speechless almost immediately. rafe made sure to watch you intently, the sight of you unraveling making him follow suit.

it wasn’t until you felt a stream of wetness flow between your thighs that your eyes shot open in surprise. “did i just—” rafe let go of the grip he had on your neck and instead forced you to look up at him while he finally painted your walls with his seed. he was so turned on right now he couldn’t even think straight. rafe kissed you as his movements came to a stop, your thighs still trembling in his arms while he pulled out. he groaned when he felt you clench around him, both of you feeling absolutely spent. “i think i made a mess.” rafe laughed softly, nodding his head. “yeah? that makes two of us then.”

[layaispunk]

you're gonna put me in so much trouble, darling

PART TWO TO 'you better behave, darling'

part 1 here | masterlist

pairing: joel miller x female!reader

warnings: UNPROTECTED P IN V SMUT 18+ minors dni, praise, dirty talking, joel is a little lonely, mentions of sex toys

the next day, the sun was already unforgiving by noon, turning your quick errand into a sweaty, miserable journey. you’d just wanted a few things. your favorite body scrub, your favourite coffee pods, and some tampons, and now you were sitting in the parking lot cursing at your steering wheel.

“come on,” you muttered, turning the key again. nothing. you tried again. still nothing.

you slapped the wheel with a groan, leaned back in your seat, and stared at the blistering sky. your car couldn’t start, so you had no ac. your skin was sticking to the seat. you were dying.

you called your mom first, straight to voicemail. 

then you called your dad. he answered after a minute, and you told him what was going on with a frustrated sigh.

“i’d come get you, kiddo, but i’m stuck at the site all day. we’re behind on drywall.”

you bit your lip. “i’ll call a tow, it’s fine.”

“don’t be silly,” he cut in. “joel’s home today. why don’t you give him a call? he can swing by in his truck and take a look. y’know he knows that stuff better than i do.”

your stomach dropped. of course.

you sat in silence for a second, your heart already racing with the memory of last night. that kiss. that bathroom. his hand over your mouth. and now you were gonna have to call him? after you gave him your underwear at a family bbq night?

“uh-huh,” you said weakly. “sure. yeah. i’ll… do that.”

“call me if you need anything, alright?”

you hung up, sighed, and stared out the windshield. you could feel a headache brewing.

“this is what i get,” you muttered to yourself. “literally manifested this. jesus christ.”

your thumb hovered over joel’s name in your phone. you rolled your eyes at yourself, calling him before you could chicken out.

he picked up immediately.

“hey,” he said, voice low and familiar. too familiar. “you okay?”

your lips parted, caught off guard by how fast he answered. and how steady he sounded.

“i—uh—my car won’t start,” you said, squinting against the glare on the windshield. “i’m at in the parking lot at tee’s. my dad said you might be home?”

a pause. 

“i’ll be there in five.”

the inside of joel’s truck was cool, thankfully. but you felt the heat anyway.

your thighs stuck to the seat. you fiddled with the hem of your shorts. he hadn’t said much after he pulled up, just popped the hood, told you to get in his truck in the ac, and talked to his mechanic friend who came to tow the car. his voice had been low. gruff.

now, with both of you sitting there in silence, the air felt charged. like something unsaid was pressing against the windows.

you cleared your throat. “thanks for coming. i didn’t think you’d pick up that fast.”

joel kept his eyes on the road. “wasn’t doin’ anything important.”

“still. you didn’t have to drop everything.”

he glanced at you, briefly. “you called.”

you opened your mouth to say something. what, you weren’t even sure. but nothing came out. so you just nodded, lips pursed, fingers still fidgeting in your lap.

he shifted his grip on the steering wheel. “you alright?”

the question sat between you like a loaded gun.

“do you regret it?” 

joel’s eyes flicked over to you, confused. “hm?”

you looked at him now, heart thudding. “last night.”

he took a deep breath. his fingers tightened just a little on the steering wheel as he looked back at the road.

“no,” he said finally. “do you?”

you shook your head. “no.”

a few seconds passed before he spoke again. voice lower now, rough around the edges. “i just don’t understand why you’d want anything to do with me.”

that made you look over at him again. joel kept his eyes ahead, his jaw tense, like he didn’t want to say it but couldn’t stop himself. “i’m twice your age. your dad would kill me. like, literally kill me, baby. we’d both be dead.”

you swallowed, heart catching at the way he said baby like it slipped out without thinking.

he exhaled. “i keep thinkin’ maybe you’re just feelin’ lonely. or bored. i mean… i’m sure there’s guys who’d throw themselves at you if you looked their way.”

that stung a little. and it showed in your face.

you let out a quiet breath, eyes flicking to him. “if you don’t see me like that, just tell me. i’ll stop. but i guess…” you paused, shoulders lifting in a small shrug. “i’ve had a crush on you for a while. i’m not scared to tell you that.”

joel was quiet for a long beat, eyes fixed on the road like it held the answer.

then, finally, he spoke low, like it cost him something to admit. “i do want you, darlin’.”

your breath caught.

“it’s just…” he shook his head, voice gravel-thick. “it’s risky. we need to be careful, alright? we barely made it out alive out of that fuckin' bathroom, honey.” he chuckled.

his hand flexed slightly on the wheel like he was holding himself back from doing something reckless, like reaching for you.

“i don’t wanna ruin things. or have your dad stormin’ over with a shotgun, looking to bury me in the yard.”

the corner of your mouth lifted, a tiny, involuntary smile.

“so what is this?” he asked, voice a little sharper now. “sex? is that what you want from me? you want someone older to mess around with?”

you blinked, taken aback. 

“what’s happenin’ here, baby?” he asked again, quieter this time. “you gotta tell me. are you bored? lonely?”

you laughed, but it didn’t reach your eyes. “that what you think of me? that i’m just some kid playing games? you think i take my panties off for just anyone when i’m bored?”

joel looked at you. 

“i like you, okay? if you don’t feel the same, just tell me. but don’t act like im a reckless girl with nothing better to do than to throw herself at her dad’s friends.”

when you arrived to your cul-de-sac, joel parked in between your houses. he lived painfully close to you. 

he glanced over at you, one hand still on the steering wheel. “you wanna come in? for a beer?”

you hesitated, “yeah. sure.”

the walk to his front door was short, but it felt longer with him beside you, his shoulder nearly brushing yours. 

inside, the house was familiar. lived-in. comforting.

joel made his way to the kitchen, pulling two beers from the fridge and cracking one open for you. you took it from him with a soft thanks and leaned against the counter, watching him.

“so,” you started casually, trying to sound nonchalant, “when do you think i’ll get my car back?”

joel took a slow sip before answering.

“called my guy soon as we got there,” he said, setting his bottle down. “slipped him a twenty to move it up the list. you should have it back by wednesday afternoon. 

you blinked. “but that’s in 3 days. i need my car, joel.” 

he leaned back against the counter, “don’t worry ‘bout it. i’ll drive you anywhere you need to be. how’s that sound?”

you raised an eyebrow, trying to keep your cool but failing miserably. “oh yeah? you offering chauffeur services now?”

“only for you.”

you raised a brow. “got nothing better to do?”

joel shrugged, running a hand over the back of his neck. “not really. summer’s brutal for work. we don’t do much when the sun’s beating down.”

you smirked. “sounds like you’re kinda lonely, huh?”

he glanced at you with a small grin. “maybe a little.”

“well, i got nothin’ better to do either,” you said, stepping a bit closer. “could keep you company for a while.”

you don't know how, but you successfully managed to convince him to come over to your place and use your pool. your parents were still at work, so you took full advantage of the empty house.

joel had gone inside to grab a swimsuit while you practically sprinted home to pick out the cutest bikini you had. 

now, you were floating on your back in the cool water, letting the heat of the day melt away.

from the pool steps, joel sat with a beer in hand, the sunlight catching the slight curl of a smile on his lips as he watched you splash around. 

you were feeling mischevious. you swam over to the deeper part of the pool with a grin.

“hey,” you called out, voice low and teasing. “there’s something down here.”

joel raised an eyebrow, setting his beer carefully on the step. “what kinda something?”

“don’t know,” you shrugged, eyes sparkling as you glanced up at him. “but you might wanna check it out.”

curiosity got the better of him. he leaned forward over the pool’s edge, squinting down into the water.

right then, you shot out your hand.

“hold on,” you said sweetly.

he was confused, but he took your hand anyway. before he could even react, you tugged hard and pulled him into the water.

joel’s surprised yelp turned into a laugh as he splashed right into the deep end, water rising fast around him.

“what the hell is wrong with you?” he sputtered, coming up with a wide grin.  

you couldn’t help it. laughter bubbled up from deep inside you, bright and genuine, echoing over the water.

joel blinked, eyes wide, clearly caught off guard. he’d never heard you laugh like that before.

he shook his head, a slow smile spreading across his face. without a word, he reached out, cupping your face gently and pulling you down into a kiss.

the world shrank down to just the two of you, the sun warming your skin, the cool water lapping around you. his mouth deepened the kiss, tongue tracing your lips, pulling you closer.

your fingers tangled in his hair, heart racing as his hands slid up your back, anchoring you to him. time blurred. nothing else mattered except the press of his lips, the heat between you, the rush of water and breath.

you gasped softly when he broke away just enough to kiss down your jawline, trailing hot, lazy kisses over your skin, and back up to capture your mouth again with hungry urgency.

breathless, you pulled back just enough to murmur, “do you.. want to go upstairs, to my room?”

he smirked against your lips, voice low and amused. “feelin’ mighty rebellious this summer, huh?”

you grinned, heart pounding. “we don’t have to. i’m just really enjoying spending time with your old ass”

joel followed you up the stairs. your bedroom door creaked open, and he stepped inside slowly, gaze scanning the space. soft lighting, the faint scent of your perfume, candles everywhere.

you came up behind him, heartbeat in your throat. he just stood there with his wet trunks, like he wasn’t sure what to do. so you reached for him.

he turned just as your hands slid up his chest, and then you kissed him like you’d been thinking about it all damn year.

he made a low sound in his throat, hands coming to your waist as he kissed you back just as fiercely.

between kisses, you whispered, “i haven’t… been with anyone. not in over a year.”

joel pulled back slightly, blinking like he wasn’t sure he heard you right. “a year?”

you nodded, brushing your nose against his. “mm-hmm. so im just feeling a little.. you know”

his voice was low and teasing. “frustrated?” 

you gave a soft laugh and nodded. “my vibrator’s not really cutting it these days.”

joel chuckled. not surprised, just amused. “yeah, i figured you’d have one of those,” he said, eyes dropping briefly to your mouth. “bet it’s pink or somethin’.”

you grinned. “it’s purple, actually.”

he tilted his head, eyes warm. “course it is.”

the humor melted into something softer as he looked at you again, his hand brushing gently against your hip, fingers dipping just under the edge of your bikini bottom.

his voice lowered, rough around the edges. “you want me to take care of you, baby?”

your breath caught in your throat as you nodded slowly. “yeah. i do.”

that was all he needed.

joel’s hands slid to your hips, thumbs catching the edge of your soaked swimsuit. he took his time peeling them down carefully, like he was unwrapping something precious. he pressed a kiss to your jaw first, then the soft spot beneath your ear. when he kissed your neck, it made your knees go weak. then his mouth moved lower, trailing kisses down to your collarbone, the tops of your breasts, pausing just long enough to look up at you like he was asking permission again.

his hands stroked down your thighs, spreading warmth in their wake. when his thumb grazed over your inner thigh, his eyes flicked up. he was watching you, gauging every reaction, like he wanted to memorize what made you shiver and sigh. “you sure about this?” he asked quietly, voice gruff but gentle. “you just tell me if you want to stop. any second.”

you nodded, heart pounding. “i don’t want to stop.”

joel exhaled like he’d been holding his breath.

“okay,” he said, bringing his mouth to your chest again, kissing softly over the curve of your breast. 

joel gently guided you backward until your legs hit the edge of the bed, and he followed, pressing kisses along your stomach as you lay back. his rough palms sliding along your thighs as he spread them, lowering himself between them like it was where he belonged.

“you gonna let me taste you, sweetheart?” he asked, his voice low, husky. 

you nodded breathlessly, heart thudding as his mouth finally met you. he licked slow and deep, savoring every reaction, his hands gripping your thighs to hold you right where he wanted you. your fingers threaded through his hair instinctively, hips lifting slightly off the bed as he sucked your clit just right, then slid two fingers inside you, thick and curling just enough to make your whole body clench.

“that’s it,” he rasped against you, his voice wrecked. “that’s a good girl.”

your moans were helpless. every stroke of his tongue and press of his fingers wound you tighter until your orgasm creeped over you like thunder. you barely had time to catch your breath before joel rose to his knees above you, lips slick and eyes heavy with want.

still dazed, you pushed yourself up to straddle him. you kissed him, deep and messy, tasting yourself on his lips, and rocked your hips against his, making him groan low in his chest.

“you ridin’ me now?” he asked, voice gravelly. “that what you want, baby?”

you nodded, touching your forehead to his. “i wanna feel you.”

joel’s breath hitched as you reached between your bodies, guiding him to your entrance with trembling fingers. the weight of the moment settled thick in the air, his eyes locked on yours, jaw clenched, chest rising and falling in sharp rhythm.

“you sure?” he rasped, his voice rough like gravel, thumb brushing your waist. “don’t wanna rush you—”

but you were already sinking down, slow and aching, until he filled you completely.

“shit,” joel groaned, head falling back for a moment, throat bobbing as he fought for control. “jesus, baby…”

your mouth parted, a soft moan escaping you as you adjusted to the stretch.you held still for a beat, heart hammering, then rocked your hips once, experimentally, drawing a guttural sound from deep in his chest.

“f-feels so good,” you whispered, hands resting on his shoulders for balance. “god, joel…”

he looked up at you like he could barely believe this was real, like you were something out of a dream.

“you’re so tight,” he breathed, gripping your hips. “warm as hell. you takin’ me so well, baby.”

you moaned at the praise, moving a little faster, the rhythm building with every pass of your hips against his.

joel’s hands wandered, one sliding up your back, the other drifting over your breast, thumb brushing your nipple as he watched you ride him like it was the only thing that mattered.

“you look so fuckin’ pretty like this,” he moaned. 

you leaned forward, mouth brushing his ear. “been thinking about it. about you. for so long.”

that just about undid him.

his hands clenched at your waist, helping you move, guiding your rhythm as his lips found your neck, your jaw, your shoulder. every kiss was hot and messy. 

“keep goin’, just like that,” he groaned, voice fraying at the edges. “you’re drivin’ me fuckin’ crazy.”

you could feel it coming once again, that tight, overwhelming ache coiling deep in your belly, winding tighter with every slow grind of your hips, every brush of his thumb over your nipple, every soft, filthy word he growled against your skin.

“you close again, baby?” he murmured, voice low and urgent. “feels like you are.”

you nodded, fingers digging into his shoulders. “y-yeah. joel, oh—”

he sat up slightly, mouth capturing yours in a hungry kiss, one hand on your back to keep you close, the other gripping your hip as he thrust up into you. deeper, harder, matching your rhythm with his own.

“let go for me,” he rasped against your lips. “wanna feel you come, sweetheart. come all over me.”

at that, your body went tense and shuddered violently as your second orgasm hit, rushing through you like a wave breaking. you cried out his name, legs trembling, head falling to his shoulder as pleasure tore through you in sharp, hot pulses.

joel groaned deep in his chest, arms locking around you as he held you close,  “good girl… just like that… fuck, you’re perfect.”

you were still catching your breath, face pressed to the curve of his neck, when you felt his hands tighten on your hips.

“fuck, sweetheart,” he groaned, voice rough and cracking at the edges. “you’re squeezin’ me so damn good.”

you shifted slightly, and he swore under his breath, a ragged sound that sent a thrill down your spine.

“don’t move,” he gritted out. “christ, you’re gonna make me-”

you couldn’t help it. you rocked your hips again, slow and deep, and he gasped. his head fell back against the headboard, eyes squeezed shut, jaw clenched tight.

“jesus fuck,” he panted, hands now gripping your thighs like he was hanging on for dear life. “you feel so fuckin’ good, baby…”

you kissed the side of his neck, whispering, “then come, joel. want to feel you.”

his body snapped beneath you, muscles straining, and with a low, broken moan, your name falling from his lips like a prayer, he came. hard.

the way he pulsed inside you, the warmth spreading between you as he held you down, buried deep, clinging to you like he’d fall apart otherwise. he breathed heavy against your shoulder, arms still wrapped around you, keeping you flush to his chest. one hand drifted up your spine, slow and shaky.

“goddamn,”, he muttered, voice hoarse, lips brushing your skin. you smiled, still catching your breath, heart pounding as you curled into him, both of you quiet now, your skin warm and sticky and flushed, laying on his chest. 

“you’re gonna put me in so much trouble, darlin.”

thankyou for reading ⋆𐙚₊˚⊹

taglist: @3raqya @brittmb115 @wanniiieeee @millersdoll

[invincibledc]

˗ˏˋ ꒰ ♡ ꒱ ˎˊ˗

𝐁𝐨𝐨𝐠𝐢𝐞 𝐌𝐚𝐧.ᐟ

────୨ৎ────

𝐉𝐀𝐂𝐊 𝐐𝐔𝐈𝐍𝐍 (𝐎𝐂) 𝐗 𝐁𝐀𝐓𝐒𝐈𝐒!𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐄𝐑

── .✦ summary: what’s worse than the boogie man? A obsessed clown boy. All cause of grown man couldn’t keep his disgusting words to himself, Jack has some things to handle on his own.

── .✦ genre: oneshot/Yandere

── .✦ info: kidnapping, Yandere themes, OC work. this OC is an OC I’m written for my own amusement. He’s the son of Harley Quinn and joker. Full name, Jacklyn Oswald Quinn. I got bored. Reader is the twin sister of Damian, but Damian is the older twin of course. Im only a writer so you can imagine who he looks more like but all I can is he is handsome canonically in my head and anything. Boy’s crazy but handsome.

── .✦ word count: 625

Vision blinded by some kind of sack on a man’s head. Jack ripped it off, showing his crooked smile and clown face with green hair. His hair slicked back as he chuckled at the scared look.

“Rise and shine!” he exclaimed in a cheery voice, moving back with a bounce. He couldn't help but stare at the wide-eyed man who tried to get up but couldn't due to the chains holding him down.

“Oh yeah. Don't even think about trying to get up silly.” the cheerful expression on his face then melted completely off as his eyes darkened. “You ain't going anywhere.” his scruffed voice lowered, turning his back to face the table of objects. It went from a crowbar, pliers, a drill, and a hammer.

The man seemed to notice as he screamed, but no sounds came out due to some cloth wrapped around his mouth. “Shut the hell up,” Jack says coldly, glancing at the man with emotionless eyes.

“You should’ve thought about your actions before catcalling teenage girls off the streets.” grabbed the crowbar, and a crazed smile spread across his face. “Especially my girl.” He taps the tip of the crowbar against his flat palm.

“Man… Ima have a fun time with you.” wide-eyed, the man screamed as Jack got ready to aim at his head. Soon a phone ring echoed in the air. Raising a brow, Jack pauses his mid swing and goes over to his phone. There he sees it says “Puddin`” with two red heart emojis and a picture of you and him in bed together making funny faces.

It seemed this made Jack immediately drop the crowbar and grab the phone with a sick love expression. He answers it with no reluctance.

“Yes my sugarplum!?” he exclaimed happily, jumping onto his table, and swinging his legs back and forth as he heard your sweet angelic voice from the other side.

“Hey, I was wondering if you can do an errand for me?” you asked, going downstairs of the Wayne manor to see your older brother arguing over who gets the last piece of food. You had already eaten so you didn't need to eat again.

“Of course my love, what pleasures do I owe you.” he purrs hearing you chuckle. “Okay, I just need you to get me some ice cream. I'm just craving it.”

“Of course love!” he says after listening to you, he hops off the table and walks over to the man. The man seemed to freeze and try to scream, Jack immediately muted himself, putting a gloved finger to his lips, his eyes narrowed as a dark look washed over his face.

“Be quiet. And I might be gentle on you.” Jack takes the man’s wallet and moves back, still looking at the man as if he were worth nothing. Which he is.

Unmuting himself, Jack smiles as he hears you. “Hello?” you questioned due to how unusual it was quiet.

“Yeah sorry about that hon, anyways yeah I'm going. [fav.flavor] ice cream right? Your favorite to just stuff your face in?” he says as he turns his back.

“Yeah! That's the one, thanks Jack. You’re the best. And of course, just try not to start a fight with Jason. You both were bruised and bloodied.”

“Of course, I always listen to you. I’ll be there.” as Jack hung up, he threw an ace card at the man, the man jolted as the card was sharp enough to stick to the wall beside him.

“You get to live approximately 35 minutes. And then it's show time for me.” a malicious laugh rang out from Jack’s mouth, sending dread all over the man who was still gagged and chained up.

“Cya later.” and with that, Jack left the man in that room.

Just to save him for later.

[sugarcoatedstarkey]

sarah cameron’s brother

pairings - rafe cameron x reader

summary - rafe always did things to piss you off or make you cry.

warnings - sexual intercourse, fingering. (18+)

You searched high and low in the cupboard, waiting for your eye to catch sight of the unopened packet of pink chips you had hidden in the back of the pantry. However after several minutes you came up short, the chips were nowhere in sight. “I swear I brought them” grumbling to yourself, checking once more before slamming the door closed and leaning back against the bench with a sigh.

Just as you go to walk back to your room, the door of the kitchen opens and Rafe walks in. Crumpled up bag in his hand, the smell of salt and vinegar just about smacks you in the face. “You ate my chips!” You shout, stalking towards your best friend's brother in anger. He was always doing something to anger you, he liked getting under your skin. “I don’t see your name on them” he states, he pulls his hand back and throws the balled up bag and it hits you square in the nose.

He chuckles deeply and moves to walk around you, your hand grasps the front of his shirt in frustration. “They were mine. You don’t even like that flavour! Stop stealing my shit!” He laughs again and stares down at you with an unreadable expression, his irritatingly gorgeous blue eyes inspect your face. “It’s cute how mad you get, you're under my roof so I’ll eat whatever I want” he states, his hand moves to grip your wrist, your fingers loosen instantly and he pulls you away from his shirt, rubbing his palm over the wrinkles. “That doesn’t mean you can just eat my stuff… Why are you always doing things to annoy me! Don’t you have a life?”

You don’t even know why you're arguing with him, you know he gets nasty quickly and has you crying in your room for hours. His words always hit too deep, they wouldn’t hurt so bad if you didn’t have such a silly little crush on him.

“Y/n.. I’ll eat whatever the fuck I want. You live here for free, just because you're my sister's best friend doesn’t mean you can tell me what I can and can’t do. And honestly you need to get over yourself.. You think I’m ‘always’ trying to annoy you but maybe have you looked at yourself and realized you're the annoying one, you're the one who came in my life and disturbed my peace. I already have two annoying sisters I didn’t need you as well”

“You're such an asshole!”

“Cry me a fucking river… now get out of my face”

Your neck heats in anger, his words causing you to become slightly emotional. He knew why you were staying with them, he knew you couldn’t go home to your alcoholic parents and his dad wouldn’t take no for an answer. He knew the damage your parents had caused you and yet he still throws around shit like that.

“Fuck you!”

“You fucking wish… I wouldn’t touch you with a ten foot pole”.

You can’t stop the tears that prick behind your eyes, your bottom lip trembles in embarrassment. “Your such a fucking asshole”.

Your feet carry you out the door before you can hear his response, climbing the stairs and slamming your bedroom door closed. Your fingers twist the lock as the tears fall from your eyes, silent sobs wrack your body as you press your palms to the back of the door.

“Open the door y/n”

Biting your lip when his voice bounces off the door, you're shocked he came after you. He usually spits out hateful words and leaves you to wallow in them. “Y/n open the fucking door”.

“Leave me the fuck alone Rafe” your voice cracks, swallowing down your tears in embarrassment. His fist meets the door causing you to jump back in panic, the door handle jiggles as he tries to open the door, you can hear him huffing behind the wooden door.

“I’m not playing around open the door”

You stay silent and move over to your bed, he kicks at the door this time in frustration. You knew he would be pissed off for a few hours but would get over it eventually. Just as silence falls over you the door swings open and you jump at the intrusion, pressing your hand to your chest.

“I told you to open the door”

“Leave me alone Rafe, I don’t want to hear anymore”

He closes the door behind him and walks over you, his fingers grip your chin when you turn your head away from him. “I didn’t mean to make you cry”

You swallow the lump forming in your throat, blinking the tears away. “It’s nothing new Rafe”

“What?”

“You make me cry all the time, don’t know why your concerned this time”

His eyes scan yours and he runs a hand over his face in fruatration. “I didn’t know I made you cry… I assumed you could take what I dished out”

You pull out of his grip and sit back down on your bed, bringing your knees to your chest. Looking up at him with glassy eyes, he hated seeing you look this vulnerable.

“Not when you call me names or bring up my living situation” he takes a seat next to you, you can feel his thigh on the bottom of your toes. Sending goosebumps up your arms and down your back, your body shivers at the contact. If he notices he doesn’t comment, his eyes are on the picture of you and Sarah on your bedside table.

“You should have told me”

You shake your head, wiping away the tears that had managed to escape again. “You wouldn’t have listened or you would have just made me feel worse by telling me to grow up or something”

His eyes meet yours again and you both stare at one another in silence, you take this moment to appreciate his chiseled Jaw and buzz cut. His skin is soft and flawless, everything you expected when up this close. “I didn’t mean what I said”

“It’s whatever Rafe, I’ll get over it”

“No it’s not, I didn’t mean it and I didn’t want to make you cry. I just.. I don’t know why I always argue with you, it’s easier”

Your eyebrows crease together at his words, his fingers brush yours slightly and it sends shivers down your spine again. You drop your knees from your chest and instead cross them in front of you. “Why would that be easier than treating me like a human being?”.

“It’s easier to argue with you… because than.. because than I’m not constantly thinking about how I want to kiss you”

Your mouth suddenly feels like the Sahara desert, no words form in your brain as you stare at him with wide eyes. “I-”

His hand is on your knee, skimming across your thigh until his fingers grip at your waist. Your legs shake at the contact, excitement courses through your veins “What are you doing?” You whisper, it feels as though your heartbeat was in your ears. Your chest feels heavy with anxiety as his face inches closer to yours “Rafe”.

As though your voice brought him back to reality he swipes his nose against yours, you can feel his breath on your lips. A fresh set of goosebumps paint themself on your skin. “It’s so much easier just being an asshole to you but I can’t anymore.. not after seeing you cry, not after knowing the words I say cause you to cry alone”

Before you can respond, his lips graze yours, it’s not even a proper kiss and you already feel dizzy from his touch. Your legs unravel themself as your fingers find home at the nape of his neck, pulling him closer until his body pressed against yours, his lips meeting yours firmer this time. Almost desperate.

Your nails scratch down the back of his neck as his tongue works against your own, your hips raised off the mattress until you could feel his heavy body against your sensitive one. “Fuck” he groans into your open mouth, your lips almost bruising from the fierceness behind his kiss, his fingers massage at the skin of your waist.

Your hands fall from his neck to creep under his sage green shirt, fingertips kissing the skin of his stomach. You can feel him clench under your touch, pressing his erection to your cunt. “Oh god” you moaned at the ache that gnawed at your sensitive bud, you needed friction. You wrapped your legs around his hips and flipped the two of you over until your clothed pussy pressed firmly against his bulge. “I’ve wanted to kiss you for so long” he mumbles, attacking the delicate skin of your neck, sucking and nibbling until your hips begin rolling against his cock. “Me too”.

His hands slide up the backs of your thighs, gripping your cotton covered ass cheeks. You're embarrassingly wet, your arousal soaks the panties you wore. His rough hands part your cheeks, you can feel your pussy opening waiting for the intrusion of his fingers but instead he presses you firmer against his erection. Rolling his hips into yours, your sensitive clit throbbing with each movement. “Oh fuck” you curse, your head falls forward causing your hair to create a curtain over your face.

Your forearms press against Rafe’s chest to keep you up right. One hand leaves your ass and slips under the two of you to grip your throat, he pushes you up slightly so he can get a look at your face. “You like that?”

“Mhm… I need more” he doesn’t say a word and instead slips his fingers inside your panties. The dampness of your pussy has him grunting, his eyes don’t leave your face as he toys with your clit. Your mouth falls open as you try to organize the words in your head, the feeling of his fingers has you going crazy. “More” is all you manage to choke out, he slips a fingers between your lips and nudges at your opening. Your pussy pulsating around air until he finally slips a finger inside, your arms shake but the hand around your throat stops you from falling onto him. “How many fingers can you take?”

“I- I don’t know.. maybe two?”

He slips three in instead, you cry out in pleasure. You can feel him all over you, he begins to finger fuck you hard. The wetness of your pussy has his fingers gliding in and out without resistance, his mouth kisses at your chest. With the ounce of strength you have left you pull down the fabric of your top to expose your breasts, his eyes fall to them before looking back up at you for a brief moment. He envelopes your perky nipples into his mouth and sucks your tits like it’s his last meal. “Fuck me Rafe”

Your breast falls from his mouth with a pop and he slips his fingers out of your pussy, bringing them to his lips to suck your juices from them. “Now”

He chuckles but obeys, standing up to slip his shirt over his head while you unbutton his pants. Tugging them until they meet the ground and come face to face with his pretty cock, you pull him back onto the bed and climb over him. You’ve stripped your own clothes off and straddle him completely naked, pressing your wet pussy against his cock. His eyes roll to the back of his head at the feeling of your warm pussy “I don’t have a condom,” he says, leaning up on his forearms as you roll your hips against him. “Don’t need one, I’m on the pill” you mumble, too in your head right now to comprehend what he’s saying, focused on rolling your hips against his cock. “Hey, y/n focus please”.

His hands halt your movement, your eyes fall open at the loss of friction. “It’s fine, if you're okay with no condom so am I” you rush, he studies your face for a moment and nods his head, dropping back down against the bed. You reach between the two of you, giving him a few soft tugs before running the top of his cock between your folds. “Jesus” he moans, his cock slowly disappearing within you. He can feel you pulsing around him, he could blow right this second from the warmth of your cunt. “Oh sweet Jesus” you cried as you began to ride his cock. The tip of his head hitting your spongy walls with each thrust, you could already feel your orgasm brewing again. The tips of your toes tingle and your belly swarmed with butterflies, circling your hips against his.

His hands teased your nipples, reaching his head up to capture your lips with his. He let you choose the speed for a bit longer before his hands gripped your hips again and he bucked his hips up, causing you to cry out with each thrust. No longer able to hold onto your orgasm, your walls clenched around him, digging your nails into his chest as he pushed you over the edge until all you could see were white spots. “Fuck fuck fuck… I’m coming!” His fingers slip between the two of you to massage your clit, bringing you over the edge. “Fucking hell… I’m close” he warned, though you were blissed out you met his pace and continued to roll your hips, another orgasm already brimming as you got him closer to his own orgasm. “Rafe yes yes o-h”

Lacing his fingers around your throat as you both came, his own orgasm felt like it wasn’t going to stop as your walls sucked him in deeper as your orgasm riddled your body with pleasure. Your chest meets his, resting your head as the two of you regained composure. Silence fills the room but his fingers dance across your back in an almost sweet gesture, when you finally regain your vision and breath you pull away from him. Reaching to grab your clothes in sudden embarrassment, your cheeks tinted a shake of pink as he watches you get dressed. “Who said we were done?” He questions, grasping the panties from your hand and throwing them across the room. He grips the back of your thighs and pulls you back down onto him. “Shouldn’t we maybe talk?”

“We can talk all you want babe”

Your cheeks flush a deeper red at his nickname, the kindness being foreign towards you. “But I want to kiss you a bit more before we get down to the hard stuff”

“Okay”

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[whore-ibly-hot]

"Special Delivery."

Yan!Boarding school stoner (Tyler) x Fem reader

18+ Minors DNI

Warnings: P in V sex, yandere behavior, Dub-con, drugging, mentions of weed, class economic divide? Spying, obsession, stalking, general yanderes, mention of drugs, taking advantage.

"Come on, it'll be funny!" Tyler whines through the door, and all you can do is sigh. The schools premiere culinary student and local pothead is standing in the hallway just outside your dorm, boxed up thing of greasy breadsticks, chicken parm, and an oven fired pizza in hand. Hand brushing back his hair, he knocks his forehead lightly against the door. "Cmonnnnnnnn, if you don't let me in now, Carters gonna chase me off n' we won't be able to hang out at all, even without this-"

He's taken aback as the door swings open, revealing you in your late night garb, prepped for movie night. He's thrilled to see you, and immediately enters the spiel he had prepared. Dropping the pizza box a little lower over his crotch playfully, he raises his voice a bit so you have to let him in your room. "Hey, pizza delivery," he coos, "got an order for DORM 113!" He yells over his shoulder, prompting you to drag him in with an embarrassed groan. "Somebody called in for an extra large sausage?"

"Gross, keep it down!" You scold, letting him in as you shake your head. "What is wrong with you?" He shuffles in and sets down the food.

"What? Am I not good enough, you specifically asked for the Italian place to send their sexiest delivery guy."

"Oh, was he off tonight?" You ask, and Tyler slaps his hand over his chest in mock offense. Flopping onto your bed, feeling the worn, school-provided material squeak and rustle below your weight. You roll over to face him. "Well, despite you being fuckin gross, I'm sure the food is good. What did you bring?"

"Got some Chicken Parm, some soggy-ass buttery breadsticks, and my Tyler special." He proudly holds up the box.

"A new special? Seems like everytime we talk you've got a new signature special dish."

"Nah, this one is definetly the best my-my genius science man brain has come up with, dude!" He assures, flipping open the box. The smell of warm baked cheese and pizza wafts to your nose.

Smiling, you both take some bites of the pizza, topped with all sorts of odd things. It's nice, admittedly, it does taste good. "Thanks for coming over, Tyler. This food does all look amazing."

"Course, man. Anything for my favorite newbie." He assures. The pair of you tuck in to the food, gorging yourself on the delicious food.

"Where's Pez?" You ask curiously as you lean back on your bed, having chucked a paper plate away and cleaned up a bit. You don't want any clutter on Harrisons side of the dorm.

"Where do you think, man?" Tyler groans, scooting back. "He's got detention again. He wanted to smoke a fat one before class but I was like 'Nah, let's just take one of my bomb-ass pot brownies, cause I knew he'd get caught cause this grass he's been using lately has a crazy sce-"

"Tyler." You giggle, looking at him and he shrugs, putting his hands up.

"My bad, sorry, back on track. Anyways, like I said, he totally got caught, and now he doesn't get to chow down. Shoulda listened to me, man." He brags. After a moment, he sits back up and glances away. "So, listen, we've eaten and stuff, what do you wanna do now?" He asks, though you can see him tilting a head back to his bag. "Dessert?" He suggests.

"You didn't-" You say, as he gets a small baggie from his backpack and gives it to him. "I told you, Pez wanted to have that blunt, so I had some extra edibles, you know?" He explains. "Okay, I promise I put some good shit in here, some new strain I bought. Were gonna get kinda sleepy, but to be fair it could just be the pasta." You take one and do a silly little cheers motion before taking a bright of the dense, moist brownie.

"Its great." And it is. For a bit. After the brownie settles in your stomach, a new feeling begins settling in there too. Something warm, tingling. "Mhmm, uh, Tyler? Are you feeling okay?" Glancing at him, his tan skin is flushed, eyelids a little droopy.

"I dunno, man. I feel kinda funky, and not like, in a bad way?" He's laying down on your bed, chest fast against your pillows.

"Maybe something was off with that weed?" You ask, shaking your head and woozy standing. The room spins a bit, and the pleasurable throb in your waist continues. "Let's go to the nurse. We can lie and say we just ate something bad."

Tyler doesn't get up to follow you. "N-nah, I'm sure it's just the food settling, probably. Let's stay here." He whines.

"No, cmon, Tyler. We could get really sick-" You tug on his limp arm to get him to sit up, only to figure out why he was so hesitant. "Oh!" You immediately drop him.

"Told you. Don't think it's 'bad weed' doing this. Sorry." He admits, looking down.

"So we're like, on those gas station sex pills or something? You said this was supposed to be a relaxing strain!" You exclaim. "That it'd help us sleep!"

"I thought it would! You know, keep up all warm and fuzzy till we drifted off... the label said 'bed fever'." He trails off, and you immediately freeze.

"Tyler, that's not-"

"Aw, shit!" He smacks his forehead and drops his face into his hands. He's clearly embarrassed and still sporting an erection which he tries to hide as best he can in his loose shorts. "I wasn't even thinking, that isn't what that means at all, is it?" You shake your head. "Feel like such a perv. I'm sorry man, I ruined this. Uh, maybe there's a way online to reverse it."

You shake your head and sit next to him. "No, it's okay. I know you didn't mean to, and to be fair you were probably high when you bought this." He nods, brown eyes sad and wide as he looks at the floor. You gently brush his long black hair behind his ear, rubbing his arm. "Its okay, it really is. We... I know harrisons out for a game, we can hunker down in here 5ill it passes."

"I know what to do." Tyler perks up, smacking his knee as he does it with courage. He seems determined. "Let me make it up to you."

"What?" You exclaim. It's your turn to flush, cheeks reddening as you swallow. "I don't know what you mean-"

"Its not gonna go away, you said so yourself. And if Harrison isn't coming back, you shouldn't have to suffer cause I accidentally laced your shit." He grabs your hand and squeezes it with his soft but callous ones. Another goes to your head. "See, you're burning up just like me, man-"

"I'm really fine." You lie. If the weed wasn't having an effect, his desperate and caring words paired with his big hands on you certainly was.

"Nah. I know it's having an effect, I'm hard as a rock right now, never seen my dick this mad. I know you've gotta be jonesing for some friction right now, babe." He puts a hand just over your inner thigh, but doesn't go further. "We don't have to, but if you'd let me I'd focusing on making it good for you. Making it up to you for my mistake; no reason you should have to be sitting there with a wet fucking kitty between those legs aching for something good cause of my mistake and me not giving it to-"

"Okay!" You yell. "Okay, just stop talking like that, we can have sex. Just keep it down." You've never heard him speak that bluntly about sex, he's more of an innuendo guy, but the weed clearly is having an effect. Still, it's sweet he seems so worried about your pleasure right now.

"You won't regret it. I'm gonna make this good for both of us, I promise. Gonna out-" He pauses and laughs as he slips of his shorts, making you raise a brow. "Gonna put this extra large sausage to good use."

You scoff and smack his chest. "I'll just touch myself if you're gonna be corny while we do this." You warn as you undress, dropping panties down of your legs and kicking them across the room.

"I'm not against seeing that either, but this is about me making it up to you." He reminds you. You both don't even bother with your stops, your pussy is throbbing in a way that makes your legs shake, and Tyler's still attentive even in his state of arousal. "Lay down man, no reason to be sitting. Gonna wear out those pretty thighs before we even get down to it." He adjusts some pillows behind you so they can properly cradle you to look at him without straining you. He wraps your legs up around his waist, the very ends of his hair tickling your feet. His touch is firm, but he's clearly taking in the scene in a calculated way. You've only seen him focus this hard on his passion for cooking, though you suppose this moment has plenty of 'passion' too.

"How do you wanna play this?" He asks, and you tilt your head, confused and resisting just humping away at his front for any kind of stimulation. "I mean, I know I'm aching to get my dick in you, but this is about you. You want it slow, o-or fast, or I can even just eat you out, I hadn't thought about you not wanting me in-" He's rambling now, his focus melting to anxiety. You press a single finger to his lips, and it seems to calm himself a bit. He sighs and looks down sheepishly. "Sorry."

"I want you in. Not too fast, but set a good pace. I'll let you know what feels good. I'm not used to what I like when I'm on weird horny-weed."

He laughs, one hand adjusting his meaty tip against your folds. Just the feeling makes you twitch, and as much as you would usually like taking your time with something as... impressive as his cock, you're both enduring the full brunt of the aphrodisiac now. You let out a slight hiss at the sudden stretch as he pushes in, but the drug has ensured your well lubricated.

"Shit..." He groans, sinking further to sheathe himself in your heat. "God, you feel so wet, so fucking wet. Holy shit- i-is this okay?" Through his own pleasure, he's resisting the urge to just start pounding away to make sure he's not going to deep to quick.

"No, s' good." You confirm, let the feeling of his hot member getting settled in you wash over you. "You can move, maybe just... angle a bit? Up?" You grumble.

He nods, adjusting his angle as he begins to roll his hips in and out of your limp form. You moan, feeling his weeping tip almost immediately brush an electric spot deep within you. "Fuck, god, yeah, there. Mm, right up there. You're really good at this."

He smiles, sweetly burying his head against your neck as he instinctively kisses a tender spot. His hands steady your hips as he thrusts away. "I'm good at following instructions, man." He groans. "S' why I'm such a good cook."

You snort, he can't seem to stop cracking jokes, even when he's balls deep in you. It's not long before the knot in your stomach grows tighter.

"Tyler, baby-" You feel his length twitch at the pet name. "Think it's happening, think I'm about to finish-" he nods his head rapidly along to each of your words.

"Lemme cum too, yeah? Not inside, but lemme cum with you, please, please man-" He's begging. "You're just fucking gripping down on my shit, and I-"

"Its okay, I'm on the pill." The idea of finishing inside is what sends him over the edge. His hips pick up the pace, cock eagerly seeking out the spongy spot inside you that makes you cry out as he spurts one, then two hot streams of cum.

"Fuck, fuck yeah, right there-" You're ability to keep quiet for fear of nearby dorm students hearing you disappears as the knot inside you zaps away into a red-hot pulsing in your womb. Groaning, you both ride out the high till he collapses just over you, continuing to nibble and kiss at your neck as a string of curses and praises leaves his loose lips.

After a moment, when the weed and the sex high seem to have worn off, he grabs some napkins that came with the food, rather unceremoniously dabbing you clean before chucking them. "Water for the lady," he hands you a cup, and you smile weakly from where you've wallowed in your sheets.

He grabs his boxers and slides them back on before finishing the food clean up you had begun. "No, Tyler, let me help with that." You try to stand, but he just gently pushes you back down. "Nah. I brought it, I'll clean up. Besides, I'm sure you've never had a guy rail your guts like that before, and you need to rest." He puts his hands up with a cheeky grin. "I appreciate the compliment. Huffing, you just roll over.

"Just..." You pause. He turns from where he was at your door, trash bag in hand and tilts his head. "Just come lay down when you're done." Another smile adorns his face. "Of course, man." He smiles.

In the hallway, there's a small 'ping' from his phone that gets his attention. A contact with a rather childish photo of Pez holding up a middle finger pops up. He looks at the message.

"How'd it go?" The message reads. Tyler types back.

"Fine. We had a good time, she's real fucking sweet. A total babe, keeps a cute room."

Another 'ping'. "You know what I meant. The weed, I told you it was intense, I tried it once." The text reads. "Thought my dick would fall off. You didn't use too much, right?" Pez asks.

"Course not." Tyler responds, typing with one hand as he chucks a trash bag into the chute. "I'm good at following instructions."

[hotheadedhero]

Think You're Cute

'Like 'em Big Series'

AN: I have so many stories to write but I had to do this. Blaming being sick, m'kay? Fever has got me bad and these meds got me loopy. Thinking we need some good, silly fun in our lives, right? Plus, now that I've watched Rise, I'm hungry for some big Raph appreciation. I know I ain't the only one

Part 2

All characters are aged up

Raphael x Reader

Warnings: near peril, easily smitten, possible errors due to fever (what kind of fever is up for deliberation🥴)

Cutting right to the chase. You like big dudes. That doesn't necessarily mean muscles, either. You just love you a big man - someone with a bit of something-something to them. More to love, you know? Given your track record with the greater world, it shouldn't be all that much of a mystery. Cats? Get yourself a tiger that you can cuddle into. Jumpers? Comfort central, baby. Beds? If you can't spread eagle then you see no point. The old-age saying does declare that the bigger the better, so who are you to disagree? How true that is may be up for debate but it’s merely as simple as understanding what your preferences are.

However, this makes dating a difficult ballpark to play in. No matter how tall, jacked, or voluptuous someone is, it never feels like enough. Human biology and genetics can only go so far in the conceivably possible sense. You just want to be absolutely engulfed when you get a hug. Is that such a crime? Apparently, it is. Unfortunately, you also seem to come across the worst jerks when you attempt to date within this set of criteria. One might argue it's your karmic justice for being so superficial and picky but a woman has needs. Not those kinds of needs, either. Get your head out of the gutter.

All hope seems lost and after yet again, another failed date, you decide to call it in for the evening and make your way home. A fresh failure and another wonderful outfit gone to waste. By no means is it anything flashy but you put a lot of work into it: pencil skirt, turtle neck sweater, and a nice pair of boots to compliment the look. The whole shebang! All of that effort for nothing. This is the last time you spend three hours doing your hair and makeup. Block after block, your feet grow heavier with every step. What you would give to come across a mountain-like man you can climb who is also a kindred spirit. Perhaps this dream guy will forever be that - a dream. Men like that don't just fall out of the sky.

"Look out!!"

The sudden shout almost scares you into tripping over and you look behind yourself, wishing you hadn’t. Two very large, very dangerous-looking figures entangled in battle, those of which are approaching your helpless little self. You quickly duck as the giants hurdle over you. One falls on its side whilst the other claws and skids against the ground, regaining its balance. It shakes its head and locks onto you, a guttural snarl rumbling past its jowls. Such a creature is surely from the stuff of nightmares. An indescribable nightmare whose sights are set on you. The smart option would be running away but it's as though your shoes have melted into the pavement. Pawing into the tarmac, the beastly thing growls and lunges for you. Great. This is how you die: torn limb from limb by a demon dog. Well, assuming your clothes join you, at least you’ll look like a total babe in the afterlife.

"Oh no ya’ don't," the other one yells from behind the predator, grabbing it by its tail. “Pretty ladies are not food!”

With a mighty tug, he pulls it back and swings it as far away from you as possible. You release a shaky breath, legs trembling beneath you. That was far too close for comfort. The fight isn’t quite over, however. Just as it approaches him, the green goliath swivels on his feet, full 180, and whacks the creature's jaw with a closed fist. His speed alone has you in awe but the force is astounding, practically earth-shattering. It completely knocks the air around you and pushes you onto your backside.

When the dust clears, the first thing you see is your saviour panting, his spiky shell(?) pointed towards you. Just past him in the distance, you notice three more figures in blue, purple, and orange taking a closer look at the unconscious tyrant. You swear one of them pokes at it with a stick. Witnessing strange beings such as this isn't entirely new. Anyone who's watched Chateau Pretenche knows about the celebrity chef turning into a grotesque pigman. To describe it in one word? Horrifying. It's just whether people choose to believe it genuinely happened or if these bizarre entities exist. Being up close and personally observing it now puts your scepticism in check.

As the humanoid turtle calms, he turns to face you, recapturing your attention. A red mask sits over his eyes and there’s a noticeable snaggle tooth poking past his upper lip. Typically, the prerogative is keeping out of sight but it’s much too late for that. He gradually advances towards you. You watch him warily and he keeps his movements slow for that very reason. It wouldn’t be a shock if you were to try and make an escape. He wouldn’t blame you. Currently, all he wants to do is make sure you weren’t hurt during that fiasco provided you don’t suddenly come out of your bewilderment and run off. You have good reason to but he just saved you. Either that or he’s as ravenous as that beast and wants you all to himself. The irrational conclusion remains as such - irrational - when he descends to one knee and outstretches a hand. There’s an irrefutable kindness in his eyes; a caring nature that can’t be replicated in the face of savage brutes.

"You okay?" he asks.

You continue to gawk without a word but, bit by bit, you reach out for his offer. Your fingers lightly trace the centre of his palm before comfortably trusting the proposal. His hand engulfs yours completely and Raph hopes to mercy that you don’t realise how sweaty he’s getting. He can feel his heart beating like crazy. He wonders how much of that is the adrenaline from the fight and how much of it is being in the presence of such a beautiful gal. As he helps you to your feet, he rises to his own. Someone of his stature shouldn’t be capable of being this delicate but he is. It has you running through a loop and you unintentionally stare at the remarkable behemoth.

Quite pathetically, you nod, unable to verbally respond to his question. How can you? You are effectively starstruck. Once you gloss over the turtle-y features, all you see is the sheer size of him as he towers over you. Height, width, the magnitude of those arms! All of it is glorious. You can hear the universe asking, “You want a big man, huh? How about one who isn’t human?” to which you answer, “Who gives a damn?”. If the only way a man can be this big is not to be human, so be it.

Amidst a whisper, your mouth moves on its own, "You're beautiful."

"What?"

"Huh?" Blinking out of your trance, you realise what you’ve said and giggle sheepishly, "I mean, you're be... ba... booming! Totally awesome with the whole- uh... saving thing." Nailed it. 

He blinks right back down at you. This is certainly a first. He can feel his face heating up and he withdraws his hand lest you endure the wrath of his bashfulness, opting to hold the back of his head. At this moment, he seems to look anywhere but you.

"Heh. Gee, thanks." His humility is adorable and you’re glad he doesn’t question your initial statement. He turns to you once more, regaining some composure. "You sure you're okay, though? That thing was pretty scary looking."

It’s clear that you haven’t sustained any physical injuries but even bearing witness to something so unsightly can have lasting effects on one's mind. His brows furrow gently in concern down at you and it occurs to you that there’s a soft heart under all of that shell and muscle. Bonus points. This makes you smile for the first time in front of him and Raphael is sure that the streetlights got brighter.

You laugh fondly, “Yeah, I’m okay. Thank you.” Twiddling your fingers, your lips purse up in his direction.  “Is there any way I can repay you?”

He places his hands on his hips and chuckles cutely, “Just doing my duty, ma’am.”

He may be indulging in his alter ego - the Red Angel of Preventing Harm - but it’s not every day he gets paid thanks when he saves someone. It’s also not every day he gets to save such a pretty woman, either. You, however, can’t just leave it at that. There must be some way in which you can properly thank him. Ulterior motives include getting to know this already loveable lug better but shh. It feels like the odds are finally turning in your favour and you won’t let this slip away from your grasp. That’s when it hits you.

Muttering under your breath, you erratically search through the confines of your little handbag. You are certain that you had one in here somewhere. In the spare pocket maybe? Ah! Found it. Fumbling to take the lid off of your pen, you hold out your hand, gesturing for his. He slowly complies, to which you jot down a series of digits on his palm accompanied by your name and a tiny 'x'. 

"Gimme a text sometime," is the last thing he hears before you disappear around a corner.

Oh? Oh. Ohhh. Wow. Getting your number is the last thing he expected. Did he get hit on the head during that scuffle or something? Was everything from the last few minutes a dream? He bores holes into the writing on his skin, scanning it over and over, scared that it’ll disappear if he so much as blinks. A dumb, wobbly smile not so gracefully decorates his lips as he trudges back to the turtle tank. He takes his seat but it’s obvious that he isn’t all there. Being so caught up in his rose-tinted bubble, he doesn’t register his brothers' voices. In an effort to gain his attention, Michelangelo jumps onto his shoulder, partly intrigued by what their leader is so absorbed by.

"Oh me gosh!” the young brother screams in shrill excitement, “Raph's in love!"

Careful not to smudge the neat ink, he’s quick to hide his hand against his chest. "That's crazy talk!”

Donatello sniffs the air and mockingly covers his nose. "The overwhelming manifestation of your nervous stink indicates otherwise, dear brother."

"I got a girl’s number!” he continues to defend, feeling his face go all kinds of red. “'Course, I'm nervous but that don’t mean I’m in love."

Lies and slander. It was practically love at first sight. He just doesn’t like the idea of his brothers knowing that. It’s easy pickings to be made fun of.

"Don't worry, Big Red. Lucky for you, you got a guy who knows all about the charm." Leonardo points both thumbs at himself as he falls back into his seat and props his legs up on the dashboard. "First, you just need to..."

The "helpful" advice drowns out as the large snapper opens and gazes at his palm again. He just can't comprehend how a gorgeous individual such as yourself could take one look at him and give him your number. It's puzzling but he supposes there’s a first for everything? That also doesn't mean he won't text you. The only thing getting in the way of that is fear. Raphael thinks he’d rather go toe-to-toe with that mutant dog again than have to face the risk of embarrassing himself. To anyone who knows him, it’s no surprise that he caves under pressure. No. He will do it! A chance like this is one in a million.

Oh boy. What could possibly go wrong?

[avocado-writing]

Companions reacting to Tav telling them they love them right in the middle(or after) a fight?? Like Tav is just so in awe of seeing em in action<3

oh! So sweet! Absolutely, here you go anon - writing as if you’ve seen them do something magnificent in battle & are so overcome with love that you have no choice but to blurt it out! (some stuff under a cut for being a bit NSFW LMAO) plus mentions of blood & violence

Astarion

stabs someone attacking you from out of the darkness with such efficiency they’re dead before they hit the ground

you’re blown away by the bloodlust and fury in his eyes - how DARE someone try to hurt you?

”I love you,” you choke out, wide-eyed and trembling from fear and emotion.

he’s shocked, but reaches over to give you a quick and bloody kiss before stabbing someone approaching behind you and urging you to get back to the fight

tells you later it was very silly to be distracting yourselves like that… but he does appreciate it nonetheless 😌

Wyll

we’ve seen the way he’s introduced in game, we know he’s a fan of some showmanship

you see him deal with three opponents at once, Eldritch Blasts in one hand and rapier in the other, and shout that you love him almost instinctively

when he finishes seeing them off he leaps across the battlefield, spins you, and gives you a fiery kiss before darting back up to block another sword

you feel like you’ve had the air stolen from your lungs but quickly manage to recalibrate yourself - you have a fight to win!

you can’t help stealing glances at his fine form for the rest of the battle though 😏

Gale

we know canonically he gets turned on from watching you fight.

you yell out that you love him after seeing him sling the coolest Fireball? he’s putty in your hands afterwards.

so desperate, kissing you, begging for your hands to be all over him

“you are so wonderful, my heart… to see you in battle… it set every inch of me aflame…”

gets you into a routine of quickies after battle bc the two of you are fired up. neither of you mind delaying your adventure to fuck rough and fast. the rest of the party… could do without that.

Karlach

is busy raging and does NOT hear you lol

roars in response but that could just be a normal battle roar when it comes to her tbf

she finds you afterwards though, a little sheepish, and is like “oh erm did you say you loved me mid-battle?”

”yes! you looked so cool cleaving that dude in half karlach, I was a bit swept up…”

her face goes bright(er) red and she actually giggles before pulling you into a kiss

“things like that make this all worthwhile, solider. I love you too.”

Shadowheart

you’re dying. she floods you with a cure wounds so powerful it starts your heart again and also cures, like, an unrelated ache in your hip too, lol

you look up at her, bathed in the blood of battle, and she is like an angel sent from the heavens

“I love you” you manage to croak out from cracked lips

“I know,” she says, utterly unfazed, and then pushes you to your feet to keep on fighting

does give you a sweet smooch after battle though, to let you know she appreciated it 😌

Lae’zel

“tsk’va! there is a time and a place for this!”

she swings her sword and cuts a man’s head clean off, showering you both in a rain of warm blood, and you’re enchanted with her.

has to fight people off from wounding you because you’re so distracted oops

afterwards tells you that you cannot afford to be so absent-minded in battle… but does hold you close and rest her forehead to yours, allowing a moment of connected closeness between you ❤️

Halsin

you confess it when you see him bear out and start ripping people into pieces.

he is just… incredible. all raw power and brilliance.

you shout your love over to him and the bear roars before taking the head off of a zombie in one bite

always fights nearby you anyway, but will make an effort to get closer so he can hear your words of affection better!

plods over to you in wildshape afterwards and nuzzles into you, huffing happily when you bury your hands in his fur and give him a scratch 💕

Minthara

her blade is full of the might of her god, and she is going to use it to sunder her opponents.

you’re dazzled, in utter awe when she kills a fiend with a single blow from her sword

you can’t help the words falling from your lips.

she lifts her shield to block a blow from falling on you, and in its shade she gives you a kiss and says one word:

”good.”

[artisiumstudios]

Au where Stan finds the duffle bag.

HEAR ME OUT-

Basically it’s like a week or two before the science fair, Stan is minding his business (sort of) and while he’s going through a closet/cabinet trying to find some supplies, either for the Stan’o’War or his car, he finds a duffle bag. Curious he rummages through the bag, inside are some toiletries, 20 bucks, and clothing- wait a second. Those are his; his shirt, his pants, his socks— all stuff he has been missing for a couple of weeks. He’s confused, scared, and worried.

Why would his stuff be in here? Why are there toiletries? Why is there money? And who put them there? Unfortunately he already has his answer. Pa was always clear that none of his children would continue leech off of him. If you had nothing to prove then you had nothing to take. The conversation behind the principal’a door swarmed through his mind. How long had pa had his bag packed? Was this always the plan? Was Stanley really that worthless?

But that didn’t matter because Ford wouldn’t choose a school over him! They were going to sail the world together and that would be that, to hell with Pa if he wanted Stan gone then fine he didn’t need him, he didn’t need anyone but his brother and the sea!

At first Stan wants to tell Ford about what he found, but decides not to because in the end it won’t be important. So he keeps quiet and decides to take the bag into his car, after all hey 20 bucks and he gets his stuff back! He can’t leave it in his room cause if Pa finds out he was snooping through his stuff, well he’d rather not think about that.

Then the conversation on the swing set happens, and Stan’s head starts spinning. So it wasn’t just Pa who wanted Stan out, Ford was willing to ditch him too. Stan feels betrayed and hurt, he doesn’t know what to say or what to do. He starts to question his theory, did ford help pack his bag? Was that why he had been so distant lately, feeling guilty for letting his Pa kick him out and even helping him with the bag?

Did ma know? Eventually Ford leaves, huffing from Stan’s lack of enthusiasm and response, mumbling about being jealous that he has a better future up ahead, not just some silly childish dream. Stan snaps, not physically, not with his words: just emotionally.

Fine if they don’t want him there then he’ll just leave. That night while everyone is asleep he grabs all of his money, more clothing, a sketch book, his comics— a picture of him and ford on the stan’o’war— and some other things he thinks might be valuable or just handy. And he drives away.

Nobody notices Stanley’s disappearance the next day, not until night has fallen. Ford cheerfully excited with his new full ride scholarship, goes and tells his parents. Caryn is happy, tears of joy falling down her face as she hugs her intelligent baby boy, his father gives a small smile and a nod— he gives his approval. But the mood changes once he questions where Stanley is. No one has seen him in hours, actually his car has been gone since early morning. They wait awake all night, hoping for some sign, some clue!

Filbrick grunts as he walks up to the closet, his eyebrows furrow ever so slightly, his lips pressed in a tight line. He sighs deeply.

Eventually a report is filed, but there is not much they can do, if Stanley ran away then he isn’t missing, and the police refuse to do anything about that.

Anyways thats like yk the beginning of how this whole thing happens but here are some other thoughts and ideas:

Stan:

Without Filbrick telling him he’s not allowed back into the family without a million dollars, Stan isn’t as driven by money as in canon. He doesn’t have a need for large amounts of money therefore he doesn’t have a need to do sketchy jobs just to satisfy his need to have his family back. In other words he doesn’t have as much trauma as in canon and is actually more able to settle down without being on the run or in survival mode. The first couple of months he just spends driving as far away from the East as possible making his way over to New Mexico where he settles down, first as a bar tender then eventually as a mechanic, he lives comfortably in a crummy apartment but hey he doesn’t really need much

Unfortunately he does get bored, even if it’s not with his brother he does crave adventure. And while fixing a this guys truck he overhears of a town called Gravity Falls, where weird creatures tend to reside in. So you guessed it, he picks up and drives from New Mexico over to Gravity Falls Oregon.

He gets a small but nicer apartment this time around and first he works as a mechanic. Immediately he starts to get a sense of the place and its weirdness and he loves it! (Ford would love it here-) .

Since the blind eye isn’t a thing people have two reactions to the weirdness of gravity falls: freak tf out or shrug and go on with their day. Stanley being Stanley gets the great idea to act sort of like a monster hunter/ putting small attractions up with the less violent creatures, not the mystery shack, but more like the mystery circus!

Eventually Stanley gets the name Monster-Lee for his ability to be able to fight off creatures so easily (mostly through bribery or fists)

Ford:

He still leaves for West Tech, but now he's fallen into extreme stress/anxiety and a bit of depression. Why did his brother leave? Why didn't he say anything? Is he okay? Why did he ever let their father get between them, he should've spent more time with him when he had the chance-

Unlike canon, Ford has no resentment/grudges to hold over Stanley, rather he holds that anger towards Filbrick especially when he found out that he had planned to kick Stanley out-- for being the reason Stanley left.

While Ford does still want to study anomalies, he also takes engineering classes, he wants to develop better technology and hopefully resources for run away teens/homeless teens.

While he doesn't meet Fiddleford as his roommate, he does meet him at a robotics convention where they instantly become friends. After college they develop a small company based around the idea of being able to find people, now expanding into different areas.

Ford is a lot more open with the fact the not only is he a twin, but he likes to talk about his younger twin brother who supported him and always stood up for him.

Part of the development with the technology involved finding people in forest dense areas, especially with a lot of caves (please tell me someones seen that one chart) Which then leads them to gravity falls as their first test area, small enough to test their tech, but still forest dense to get sufficient results.

and then these three bozos find each other lol. anyways thats all i got , i thought of this in the shower like 30 minutes ago and decided to procrastinate on my HW writing this lol. anyways

[ogviceversa]

Father’s Day Special

Tanner:

Fuckkkk, Mr. Blake’s dick just feels too good! I can’t stop jerking one out in his body and I need to get back to the dinner table with his family! It’s Father’s Day after all.

Mr. Blake is my childhood best friends dad and we ran into each other at a bar the other day. Both of us sat and talked for hours.

He eventually confessed that he misses being young and that he would do anything to have a sexy body like mine.

That statement made me so hard because seeing Mr. Blake mowing his lawn or doing stuff around his house was a big sexual awakening for me.

So we got a hotel room, Mr. Blake pulled off his shirt and started to reveal his body to me.

“You like what you see Tanner?”

“Mhmmm…”

“Well what if I told you all of this could be yours for a week,” he says immediately pulling down his pants. My mouth drops at the sight of Mr. Blake massive 11 inch throbbing cock.

He moves closure to me, so close that we’re now face to face.

“Tanner, I have a way for the both of us to becoming each other. You’ll get my body and I’ll get yours. No limits other than we’ll have to pretend to be each other. What do you say?”

Mr. Blake directed my hand on his firm cock and it was all over for me.

So the last couple of days, I’ve been pretending to be him. Pretending to my good friend Alex and his little brother that I’m actually their father.

Although, that part had been a little tough since every time I want some ‘daddy alone time.’ On of them is right around the corner.

Like for instance, u thought I had a good hour to jerk one out.

I started massage this massive dick from the outside of his shorts. Toying around with his big hairy balls… even smelling his big hairy feet.

But as I go to pull it out, the door swings open and Alex is at the door.

“Oh hey dad! How was your day?”

“Good! Just trying to relax son,” I said nervously.

Now that it’s Father Day, my entire day has been taken over by silly things like breakfast in bed, ‘golfing’, and now some dinner.

God, I just want to finish jerking on out!

*knock knock*

“Dad you okay?”

Shitttt, can I please have just two minutes.

I put his cock up and say, “yeah I’m coming.”

I walk out of the bathroom and my eyes get big when I see who’s at the table— it’s Alex, his brother, and my body!

“Well hello Tanner!” I say trying not to be too surprised.

“Hey Mr. Blake!” he says with a big grin on his face.

“Hey dad sorry for not giving you a heads up, do you mind if Tanner stays the night?”

“Well sure son!”

God, what is he doing?

I sit between Alex and Mr. Blake in my body. I feel so nervous. But then I’m completely caught off guard by the feeling off my former feet rubbing up Mr. Blake’s hairy leg.

He’s so calm and continuing a conversation with Alex, meanwhile I feel my former big toe touching the tip of his dick.

It can’t even take it. So I grab my former foot and hold on to it, just softly rubbing the sole under the table.

After dinner, I waited up for hours watching tv. All I could think of was Mr. Blake being upstairs in my body pretending to be me with his son.

It’s around 2 am now and I finally decide to go to bed. I head back to his room and to my surprise my body lying in bed sleeping…

I look at my former big smooth feet… I’ve also been somewhat self conscious about the size of them. But now from a different prospective—

All I want to do is rub Mr. Blake’s massive cock between them.

I walk up and pull off the clothes I had on.

I get run his big fingers tracing the soles… I then grab his dick and rub the head of it on them.

“Oh you’re here, I’ve been waiting for you,” I hear my former voice say. He looks at me holding his dick pressed against my feet.

“You have very cute feet Tanner,” he says wiggling my toes.

“Why don’t you join me?”

I hop into bed with Mr. Blake and I feel him reach for his dick.

“I just wanted to reward you for agreeing to do this with me, think of this as a Father’s Day Gift.”

I watch as he starts kissing down his chest down to his crotch.

I feel him wrap my former lips around his cock.

“Thanks Mr. Blake, this maybe the best part of Father’s Day so far!”

[starry-fame]

18+ Overboard [Caleb x Gender Neutral!reader/MC]

Summary:

“You planning on going back to bed soon? Or what?”

You chew on your lip, trying to gauge the meaning in his words. You pull up nothing, so you decide to just answer honestly. “…Not really.”

“Alright then, keep me company.” Caleb swings around to face the foyer, casting a long glance over his shoulder. “I’ve always been more of a night owl anyway.”

The liar. Caleb’s always been able to get up at the crack of dawn since he was a teen. It’s such an obvious fib, but he says it anyway, shamelessly directing you to his room.

Like a moth to a flame, you follow.

Tags: Smut, Pining, Confessions, Porn with feelings, Dom/Sub Undertones, Overstimulation, Body Worship, Penetration, Rough Sex, Begging Ambiguous Genitalia!reader/MC, Gender neutral!reader/MC

Word Count: 11,734

Author's Notes: I posted this a while ago on ao3 and wanted to try tumblr as well! I can also post silly MC stuff and character edits haha. Anyway, I hope Caleb lovers enjoy! Also, certain parts technically aren't canon as of A World Underneath release, but that's okay :')

Ao3 Check out Linkon Lounge, an 18+ Lads Themed Otome Discord Server! We stream otome/anime/movies, have lads boys rp/text bots (+Caleb ofc), and chill!

Masterlist

Sequel - Caleb Loves to Bully You in Bed

It burns.

The air’s filled with plumes of smoke, darkened to an ugly red clouded in ash. It waters your eyes and fills your lungs with soot, wracking you with dry coughs that destroy your throat. It’s hot — so hot — your body feels heavy. You’re crawling — you think? But the ground seems to slide beneath you, and your palms scrape against the concrete, bloodied.

Though your ears ring a terrible, destitute tune and your chest cries in agony — the only thing your mind screams is to get away. Run. Crawl. Slide. Drag your useless limbs and get away. You have to run; stand up and run but your body just lays there.

It’s coming. You can’t get away — you’ll die. You don’t want to die. Shelter’s right there. So close — so close. You drag past a mangled, severed arm, and instantly retch. But you keep moving. So near. Right there. But the sound of inhuman dragging grates your ears behind you and—

Your eyes shoot open, body doused in a sheen of sweat and heart ready to burst. The sheets feel far too sticky and clammy under your fingers and you’re quick to peel them off — rid yourself of anything that makes you feel hot. Confined.

One breath, two, three… it takes a moment to gather your bearings. You’re not freshly seven drowning in a sea of pain and desperate tears. You’re in your childhood home, resting on your sheets and surrounded by memories of the past.

Seems that no matter how much time passes, your dreams will always find a way to torment you as though you lived them yesterday.

What a mood-killer. You’re finally in your old home after an extended absence, and all your mind can do is taunt you by conjuring up your darkest memories.

The room’s bathed in darkness — a glance at your watch shows it’s late in the middle of the night. Not exactly time to rise, but you’re not so trusting of your dreams either. The sweat that dampens your brows and the front of your shirt feels disgusting, so you fan yourself mindlessly. You have to do something, be anywhere but here.

You’re quick to stand, stumbling a little from the sudden shift in gravity. Your eyes are still bleary, crusted, and you rub at them as you trudge out your room.

The house is dead silent, which only makes the sound of your footsteps more apparent, has you silently wincing at every step. Still, you do your best to move quiet as you can to the fridge. Grab yourself a water and chug about half of it in one gulp, cooling your clammy skin and ridding that feeling of scalding — of hot ash coating your throat. You enjoy the crinkle of the cool bottle in your grasp, how the mundane, predictable noise reminds you of reality and the now.

The incessant buzz of crickets in the distance is almost calming. The house is otherwise tranquil and calm. Peace and — you hear a quiet thump. Okay, not as quiet as you thought. Setting the bottle down, you slowly turn toward the noise, reminding your quickening pulse that unless your hunter’s watch is buzzing with a warning, there’s no imminent danger.

A few footsteps and… a tall figure emerges from the doorway, bending so he can properly fit through. Though he’s doused in shadow and you can only make out the slight glimmer of his two-toned irises, his name naturally falls from your lips.

“Caleb…”

“Thought I heard someone sneaking around in here. Why am I not surprised?” He languidly strides across the moonlit room, pausing to gently ruffle your hair like its tradition; he’s been doing it for so long, it might as well be. Even when you two were little and you had a bit of height on him (he’d prop up on his tip toes to pat your head — it was pretty adorable, in hindsight.) So you can’t bring yourself to swat his hand away as he goes for the fridge to grab a drink of his own.

Instead of drinking, though, Caleb pauses and scrutinizes the water, like it did a personal wrong to him. Before you get the chance to probe his mind, he presses the chilled bottle against your forehead. The cold makes you flinch on instinct and shoot a quick glare at him.

“What was that for?”

“Wake up call. Did you get thirsty in the middle of the night? Or you just can’t sleep?” He raises a brow, wearing a grin coated with worry as he takes a drink. Caleb’s always been terribly perceptive, he seemed to just know when you were having a terrible day or if something was amiss. Whether it was the years you’ve spent in each other’s company or Caleb’s innate sensitivity to human emotion, you have no clue. A mix of both, maybe.

Like always, he watches. You look away.

“Thirsty.”

“Uh huh. And I guess all that thirst’s what made your eyes red. You’re looking a little hot there too. Should I crank up the A/C?” Caleb raises a brow, and you wonder why he even bothers asking when he comes to his own conclusions. He should hardly be able to tell these things in the dark — does he just know? Or are the faint streaks of moonlight through the window just enough to tell him everything he needs?

“It’s not a bad thing to admit when you’re having nightmares, y’know. I mean, when you were a kid, you’d come knocking on my door in near tears and—“

“I get it, Caleb. I don’t need the whole rundown.” You snap, fighting the immediate embarrassment that wells up at your vulnerability and dependence as a child. For how strong you like to deem yourself now, it’s not like that was always the case. You were an easily frightened kid, especially jumpy after the attack. You clung to everyone and everything around you because you lost everything you held dear once before.

“And for the record,” you add, “it was a two way street. I can name a few times you came to my room saying you just wanted to talk. You look like you’d been crying for the past hour.” Right. Seeking solace in one another because you were confused kids who had their lives flipped upside down in a single afternoon.

You and Caleb were friends before the tragedy, neighbors who played together a few times at most. Not best friends, but he was the nice kid down the block you enjoyed spending time with.

When you found Caleb during the Catastrophe, you remember like it was only days ago. Crawling frantically, trying not to collapse from the pain that engulfed your being enough to make your vision swirl. In the makeshift shelter, you saw a few injured adults — some minimal, some fatal, and even fewer children crying tended to by lesser wounded adults. You could barely sit up. Someone tried to offer assistance, you think, but then a kid your size rushed beside you and knelt down, asking if you were okay.

Your ears were ringing and you could barely get a noise out, but you could tilt your head up and see those raven eyes with a hint of amber, full of absolute terror. You whispered his name so hoarse — “Caleb…” and like the turning of a faucet, an ugly mesh of tears and mucus immediately began streaming down your face. The smell of red — death, the sights, your bloodied hands, aching body, screaming heart, all honed in at once. All you could do was sob while Caleb knelt down beside you and cradled your head, tears prickling his eyes. It didn’t take long for you two to break down in one another’s arms.

From then on, you couldn’t help but stick to Caleb like glue. Caleb was the only person you had connected to your old life — the only remaining stability when everything else crumbled to dust. When you were bundled in your room and didn’t even want to talk to Grandma because she was some strange adult whom you now lived with — Caleb would sit in with you. He’d remain as long as he had to, validate every last awful thought you had in your frustrations and soothe you with sweet caresses and gentle words. As embarrassing as it is to recall, as a child, he was your lifeline. Caleb’s the reason you didn’t run away in a frenzy when everything was too much and you felt like you just needed to be away and gone. He’s the reason you were able to eventually adapt to your new lifestyle and warm up to Grandma over time. It’s ridiculous, really, how much Caleb meant and was able to do for you by just existing as himself. Caleb could sit in your room minding his business, and his presence alone was enough to soothe your tired limbs and mind from punching your pillows and recalling every terrible thing that happened that fated day.

He was always there for you, one way or another. It’s just the way it’s always been.

It’d be nice if you had something of an effect like that on him, too.

“Right. Because sometimes a little chat is all you need when you’re not doing so hot,” Caleb says, leaning on the counter and gesturing his bottle to you. Yeah, just like him alright, to flip it around on you even when you try to call him out. Makes it feel like every conversation with him is a losing battle, like he always has the upper hand because he knows just the right thing to say and how to say it.

“Alright, alright. Yeah, I had a nightmare. Happy?” You sigh, resigned at this point. You can’t even really be angry when Caleb’s been nothing but reasonable from the start, speaks out of pure care and concern. Rather, perhaps it’s the fact that he’s always reasonable you tend to get irate.

“‘Course not. It’s not like I like hearing you still get them. But it’s nice to have someone to talk to instead of keeping it all to yourself, right?” His eyes crinkle so sweetly, non-judgmental. It’s that look that always breaks you, forces you to spill anything and everything he can pull from you. He never takes advantage, just offers support, so you fall into his trap every time.

“It’s not like I’m a kid anymore. I can’t just run to you every time I have a bad dream,” you still utter. It’s weak at best, but you can’t toss all your issues onto Caleb like you did as a child. He lost everything that day too, and he still took the time to comfort and spoil you every single time you sought him out (or he came to you), no matter the day or hour. How many of those times did he cry himself, but choke back the tears just so he could attend to you?

“I didn’t say all that. But it’s not gonna kill you to quit bottling up your emotions, y’know.” The amber in Caleb’s eyes seem to flash, and yours flicker down in turn. Sometimes it feels like he still sees the same seven-year-old you once were, pitiful and dependent.

“I… know that. It’s just….”

A heavy breath leaves Caleb’s nose. He closes his eyes, sits on his words, and opens them with a twinkle of clarity.

“You gonna fall back asleep soon?”

You blink. “Huh?” Caleb doubles down.

“You planning on going back to bed soon? Or what?”

You chew on your lip, trying to gauge the meaning in his words. You pull up nothing, so you decide to just answer honestly. “…Not really.”

“Alright then, keep me company.” Caleb swings around to face the foyer, casting a long glance over his shoulder. “I’ve always been more of a night owl anyway.”

The liar. Caleb’s always been able to get up at the crack of dawn since he was a teen. It’s such an obvious fib, but he says it anyway, shamelessly directing you to his room.

You’ll let him have this one though; swallow your complaints and choose his method. You dip your head and follow him to his room, still decorated with posters of My Life as a Hunter and old-school shooter games he raved over as a kid. Though he grew a passion for piloting after a period, he still had an interest in Hunter shows as an early teen, posters and figures scattered about his room proof as such. You think they existed in attempt to ease the public into the idea of Hunters, hell, even to coerce a few impressionable people in the process. A small part of you always wanted a way to reign in control of your life, to be someone who can do the saving, not sit in tears and wait to be saved. The show just increased your resolve, if anything. Though, you remember a short period where Caleb tried to convince you otherwise.

Eventually, you think he understood well enough to quietly show his support, if only because you weren’t backing down. And it tickles the nose a little, knowing you’re now something he admired with sparkling eyes as a kid.

Like always, he sits on his bed, and you take a spot in the swivel chair at his desk, idly spinning back and fourth. There’s a dim, pale night light to give the room a low glow. It’s easy on the eyes and you can still comfortably make out the ridges of Caleb’s face, his indiscernible expression when he settles and just seems to think.

“…Feels like we haven’t done this in forever,” You murmur, eyes trailing around each and every corner. You well with nostalgia, so much it makes your heart ache, bittersweet.

“Yeah, guess we didn’t get much time once I left. Not soon after you were off getting your Hunter’s license, so we were both pretty busy,” Caleb responds, and you wonder if he feels the same way you do. A tinge of sadness, but serenity at the familiar scene. Getting to sit in one another’s company like you always would in the past.

“Getting used to you not always being around was…” It feels embarrassing to just admit how much you missed him, how empty the house felt without his lively presence. “Hard. Harder than I expected, anyway.”

“It was weird not waking up to Gran’s cooking or your demands, that’s for sure.”

“Demands?”

“Don’t take it the wrong way. You always act so proper around other people, but not with me and Gran. Everyone needs a place to loosen up, someone you can just be yourself around. And a little selfish.” Caleb’s laugh makes your cheeks warm, though your ears seem to love it. It fills you with various memories and you realize man, you really missed Caleb. When you talk, it’s like you two were never separated. But it’s times like these the feeling of truly getting to see him every day, just be with him, swells in your heart. You sigh, grasp your nightshirt, and peer at Caleb through your lashes because you fear how telling your expression is.

“Then… is it the same for you? Or was it easier to loosen up around your friends?” You ask nonchalantly, as though the question wasn’t gnawing at you from the inside out. Did Caleb feel at home, or like he had to put on a show and be the ‘strong one’, only able to let loose when he’s around peers and not biting off more than he can chew?

“Mmm…” You hear a low hum, and fingers ghost over your forehead, gone before you can even get a noise out. Caleb watches you intently, enough to make you break his gaze first. He looks pleased.

“It’s different with other friends, sure. Because you’re not them, and they’re not you. There’s ways I can relax with them, and reasons I can relax here,” he answers. His gaze feels loaded, and you vaguely wonder if there’s more to that answer with how his eyes bore into you. But you bite your tongue and decide to let the question go unsaid.

“I see.”

Caleb’s gaze persists. It’s gentle, not demanding of anything, or even expectant. But for some reason, it makes you want to turn away so you don’t have to be subject to it.

“I did miss home y’know, pipsqueak.” You wonder if that’s what Caleb was watching for, trying to see if you were silently doubtful. You bite your lip and decide to just let the words spill out before your pride makes you swallow them whole.

“I missed you.”

Caleb’s eyelids widen almost imperceptibly, but you still catch it. He blinks, and they relax with this look that feels fond, but also seems to carry another aspect you can’t decipher with so little light.

The sound of crickets buzz in the distance. The extended silence makes your grip tighten on the arm rest.

“This necklace is nice, y’know. Whenever anyone asks, I get to bring you up. They probably get sick of it after a while,” Caleb murmurs, and he lifts the silver chain you placed around his neck, ruby glimmering in the light. Knowing he kept it, the way he so proudly handles the chain, makes you feel fuzzy.

“You tell other people about me?”

“So much they could probably write an essay. How you’d cling to me as a kid, when we’d hang out together, how, for a short while, we were all the other had.” Caleb squeezes the chain and lets it dangle against his tee, expression gentle, and part of you wishes you had a chain too. Something to remind you of Caleb, an excuse to think or talk about him. To rub between your fingers and recall a time you were both in a fit of laughter, young, happy and free.

“I relied on you a lot. More than you deserved, especially as a kid. …Sorry.”

“Seriously?” Caleb gapes, and a snort leaves his mouth. “Never thought I’d hear that. But you don’t have to—no. I don’t want you to apologize. It was nice. Part of me kinda misses it. I mean I get it, you can handle your own. It’s not like you need me looking after you anymore, but… I liked it. And nowadays, I can’t help wanting to at least support you,” Caleb shrugs, like those words don’t penetrate your core and settle deep in your chest, breath hitching. A million responses swim through your mind, none of them breaking the surface.

“Oh, uh…” It’s… embarrassing, hearing that blatantly said aloud.

“And, to be perfectly clear, I missed you too,” he adds. Your throat bobs. You enjoy hearing those words from his mouth, the way he says them so easily with a hint of affection. While it’s enough to make your body feel flush with embarrassment, it’s nice he’s never too stubborn to show his care. If anything, you’re far more stubborn in admitting your feelings. Perhaps that’s why you told yourself to just say it, not let the pride win and be honest every once in a while.

“It… sucks. I only get to see you for a few days at most and poof, you’re gone,” you gesture along with your words, hastily getting them out while you still have the weak confidence to. “Your cooking, waking up to you everyday, when you get me little snacks just because…” Your legs swing back and fourth, antsy, but your heart feels lighter when you can freely speak your mind, say all the things you were too prideful to say as a kid.

Caleb listens silently with solicitous eyes. His mouth parts, closes again, and he seems to swallow. You time the kick of your legs, so you don’t start kicking them faster while you’re left on the waiting end, mute until Caleb responds.

“It’s pretty dull not having your own personal 5-star chef, huh?” He finally says, with a grin, and you softly deflate. Your legs slow to a stop, and your heart feels heavy again.

“Yeah… I… I guess—“

“No,” Caleb hisses under his breath. You think it’s to himself. But he leans forward on his duvet and reaches up, brushing his fingers over the jut of your eyebrows so light you can barely feel the touch. Your eyes shut reflectively, and his hand eases to your cheek, knuckles gently sliding down. You peek an eye at the sudden touch, trying to not make your mild startle too known. He’s the type to stroke your head or push you away in jest. This brand of touch is new. Foreign.

Your lips tremble and Caleb’s eyes flicker down to them.

“I’d do all those things every day, if I could. Listen to you get ridiculously excited about those rare kitty cards, see you when I get home from work; when you get home from work…” His knuckles trail down to your chin, dangerously close to your lips.

You inhale slowly, and try not to show your panic when your heart begins to beat an erratic rhythm. This is the first time Caleb’s ever made your heart race — like this anyway, and a flurry of thoughts and emotions you never dared consider all invade you at once. If you were standing, you’d stumble on the spot.

“I miss seeing your mug, what can I say?” Caleb laughs, gives your face two playful pats, and retracts his fingers. You withhold the urge to chase them, press his palm against your cheek. Instead, you bite the inside of your cheek to curb the desire.

They’re nothing but strange thoughts in the heat of the moment, a little too drawn in by the touch of his fingers after not seeing him for so long. Equating nostalgia with attraction is not a good look, and you know to smother it in its wisps before it engulfs into a bed of flames.

“When — when we were kids it was kind of like this,” you begin, trying to even out the tremor in your voice. “We weren’t telling each other we missed one another, of course. But I’d sit in this chair. And you’d wipe my tears when I was sad. No matter how long it took.” You say, and you know you’re just making conversation to push your mind away from uncouth thoughts. With luck, Caleb won’t pick up on a thing.

“Yeah, you were a bit of a crybaby. Always barging in, no matter the time, just to have someone to cry to. It was pretty cute, though.” Caleb stands slowly, already no more than a foot in front of you, and he bends down to rest one hand on the armrest while the other palm holds your cheek, thumb swiping under your eye. “Just like this.”

This… feels dangerous. The part of you that automatically reacts to his teasing wants to glare and push his hand away, scoffing and spouting some retort. That’s how you should respond, how he expects you to.

This new, faint part of you wants to close your eyes and lean your cheek into his palm, turn your head so your lips rest on his fingertips. You do neither, and just peer up at him through your lashes, too scared to tilt your head up and have your face reveal every dirty thought racing through your brain.

“It was cute when you’d come to me, too. You’d sit next to me, trying to act all strong. Then I’d pat your shoulder and you’d go ‘I’m not crying’ while you kept wiping your eyes. Couldn’t fool a baby. But it made me happy. That you came to me,” You speak, and reach up to Caleb’s shoulder, giving it a few soft pats. “Just like this.”

Caleb’s fingers dig into the armrest though his face remains moderately amused. He tilts his head, murmurs a “Guess we were both the type to tear up,” with a cryptic smile, and moves to pull his hand away.

Subconsciously, against any rational thought, you chase after him and hold tight to his shoulder, other hand keeping Caleb’s palm firmly in place.

He blinks once, twice. The moment is palpable. You know you can’t explain yourself out of this, but your gut instinct just doesn’t care. It craves to stay in Caleb’s proximity, to keep him by you. Like he’d melt away if you let go, and the moment would be lost to eternity.

“Pipsqueak?” He murmurs, rubbing a curious thumb across your cheek and it’s all you can really take. You feel the way Caleb tenses up when you bury your nose in his palm, when you shakily inhale and just settle into its warmth. You think you’re trembling a little, and fear eats at your racing heart. Fear of shattering the relationship you have — pushing beyond the bounds of your preconceived ‘normal’. This isn’t what you and Caleb are. Caleb calls you an infuriatingly affectionate nickname when he checks up on you. You and Caleb bicker about mindless things and easily make up in a few hours because Caleb always gives in. You and Caleb were friends since you were children, kids who played together, teens who begrudgingly got along, and adults who were still close and made efforts to visit home on your shared time off.

It wasn’t whatever the hell this was. And the guilt that rises in your throat is immense, taking Caleb’s actions to make them something they’re not — twisting his kind gestures into something awful. You force yourself to recede from his palm, mouth open to utter a soft apology.

Just as that soft ‘sorry’ passes your lips, Caleb coaxes your head up, peers long and hard into your eyes, like he’s searching the depths to find whatever it is he seeks, needs.

You think he finds it, because his breath hitches, the hand on your face seems to quiver, and his face leans so close to yours. Not touching, no, his hot breaths ghost over your lips, his nose tickling your cheek. You swallow thickly, and the warmth from his proximity spreads like wildfire.

“Tell me you don’t want this,” he whispers, urgent. Almost desperate, like it takes every ounce of self-restraint to remain as he is. So near but never bridging the small gap.

“I…” You start, knowing this is the tipping point. He’s still kind enough to give you an out, to let you reject any notion of whatever this is and pretend none of it ever happened. Makes it seem like he doesn’t want it to happen. Caleb’s always been kind like that. And maybe, in the long run, it would be the better option. To not risk destroying the relationship you’ve built and nurtured for well over a decade.

But, meeting his pleading eyes with your own, you know the only words that can leave your mouth. It’s the sole thought that repeated over and over in tandem with each shaky sigh that parted from his pink lips.

Slowly opening your mouth, you take the plunge. “I do.”

You don’t know whether Caleb’s face flashes with relief or pain — maybe both — and his lips press so deep into yours, slow and heated. It elicits a quiet, gasping noise from your throat that Caleb swallows. You have to wrap your arms around his neck to steady yourself because his kisses are starved, like he’s been craving this moment forever and you wonder if that’s really the case. His hand on the armrest moves down to grasp your thigh and a pleased noise rumbles in the back of your throat, his thumb stroking the inside of it so tenderly you could tremble. The sense of relief, of immediate euphoria of having this man on your lips almost makes you wanna cry as he kisses you senseless, licks his tongue into your mouth and coaxes every soft noise he can with each repeated press of his lips. When your fingers sneak up to his neck, quiet sounds hum in his throat and they envelop your mind, drugging you with the sound and feel of him. You could do this for hours, kiss Caleb until the only thing your mouth knows is the taste of him.

“I can’t believe —“ Caleb gasps between breathless kisses, speaking against your lips and sliding his hand down to rest on the junction of your head and neck. You tremble and he pecks the corner of your mouth in response, as though to soothe you. “You’re actually—“ He kisses at your cheek, then your nose affectionately. You feel the heat rise in your neck and avert your gaze out of pure embarrassment. “Letting me…” He laughs against your cheek, face alight and you hope the pain you perceived earlier is a little lessened now.

“I didn’t know you wanted to…” You murmur, and stretch your neck up again to capture his lips. Somehow, each kiss only seems to improve upon the last, and when his fingers slide against your neck, a quiet moan vibrates in your throat. Caleb pulls back with low lids and ragged breaths, lips pinker than you’ve ever seen and covered with a sheen of saliva. Kiss swollen’s never a look you imagined on him, but you quite like it.

“Guess I’m good at keeping secrets then,” Caleb says in a huff of soft laughter, and he’s gently tugging, guiding your body up and off the chair to sit beside him on the duvet. “Or,” he leans down and pets the front of your throat, lips steady against your fluttering pulse. “You’re just stupidly oblivious.”

“There’s no way I would’ve…” you begin to murmur as your fingers clench on his nightclothes. Your body reacts to the sensation of his lips kissing every bit of skin he can reach on your neck, licking but mindful enough to not leave marks and the consideration alone is hot enough to make you shudder.

Could you have? Your mind is hazy and each time Caleb mouths at your throat you lose it a little more, but you vaguely replay memories in your mind. Caleb’s mindfulness, his perception, his endless kindness — but he’s like that with everyone, so how could you have known you were special beyond your friendship and shared past? Granted you probably got a little extra pampering from him — but you shared a home. Of course you’d get more if you saw him more.

“Good. I was never gonna tell you, y’know,” he breathes. His large hands gently ease you backwards and you comply, letting him press you against the mattress. It smells like a mix of him — that same oak body wash he’s used since he was a teen (thankfully you bullied him out of that terrible smelling cologne phase), and fresh detergent from the laundry he took care of earlier. You resist the urge to turn your head and bury it into the covers, inhale deep, for you’re sure it’d come off as a little strange.

“Never?”

“Never.” He rests his forearms next to your head, face mere inches away. He seems to like watching you, those dimly lit eyes of his boring into you. “I mean, I thought about it sometimes. But we’ve known each other what, sixteen years now? We played together since we were preschoolers,” he sighs, thumb brushing over your cheek. His face is so raw and open, flushed and longing. Like he can finally spill every dirty little secret he’s kept hidden forever. His thumb moves to swipe across your lip and you kiss it — innocently enough. His breath stutters.

Then you open your mouth, gently suck on the digit, and he stops breathing altogether.

“Mm…” You hum in agreement, though with the way Caleb’s eyes darken, you figure it more resembles a moan.

“Damn,” he curses, and experimentally swipes across your tongue. You shamelessly take his thumb in deeper, revel in the way his lips tremble and he bites them, as though to curb some thought or action that sprung in his mind in response.

“You’re friends with someone that long, you figure there’s no chance. Figured you saw me as a brother or something. I mean, I kinda did it to myself,” he speaks, but looks absolutely enthralled by your mouth around his thumb. The way you swirl your tongue around him, encouraging him to just let go. You think his words are half spoken on instinct with how dazed and red-faced he looks.

“Fuck , if I just knew…” Caleb hisses, and he leans forward for balance, forehead pressed against yours (he’s so warm) while his hand slips under the hem of your shirt, resting just below your navel. The proximity to your waistband makes you subconsciously squirm a little, and his hand presses firmer, stilling your hips. “I could’ve done this so much sooner.”

You try to murmur a response past his thumb but the welcome intrusion makes your words incoherent. He gently retracts it from your lips to press against them, saliva coating his thumb, your lips, and wetting your chin.

“What’s that, pipsqueak?” He murmurs. You feel his hand creep up to trace your abdomen, catch at your side and massage there mindlessly.

“For someone who wants to do this so bad…” you sigh, and look up at him, unamused, trying not to let your mild fluster show. It seems even pinned under him, you can’t help but want to be a bit of a brat in his presence. “You’re sure taking your sweet time.”

Caleb’s brow twitches and he completely stills, staring at you with those gorgeous sunset eyes of his up close. You watch his throat bob as he swallows, and his fingers on your torso squeeze, not painful, just a firm hold.

“What the hell am I gonna do with you?” he finally exhales, exasperation plain on his face. He affectionately rubs his forehead against yours, the gesture so sweet it makes your heart swell. “Don’t forget, you’re the one that spurred me on.”

And like a man on a mission, the sweet moment is gone, replaced by greedy lips and needy hands. His mouth is back on yours and you gift him an appeased hum, instantly lost in the warmth of lips and the way he kisses you like he’ll never kiss again. So heated, so, so perfect, and you reach your fingers to tighten in his hair, lift your hips to wrap your legs around his torso. You both sink into the duvet with the strength of his kiss, his hands shamelessly trailing up and down your torso, mapping it out, squeezing when he hears quiet noises and whines emerge from your throat.

You think Caleb enjoys the sounds you make most, because he’ll do anything and everything to draw them out of you, hands frisky and shameless. They’re calloused and rough in the best way and you squeeze his hair in approval, press fleeting kisses to the corner of his lips when you part to breathe. He laughs, happy, and you laugh in turn.

“It’s a little hot, don’t you think?” He murmurs, and uses that as his excuse to push the hem of your shirt past your chest, encourages you to slip your shirt off and sit with your bare torso.

The way he stares at your body, your chest, like there’s nothing else in the word makes your body singe. You reach a hand up to cover his wandering eyes, scoffing. “Don’t just stare, it’s embarrassing.”

“All that talk and you’re embarrassed when I look at you?” He gives your hand a few taps before prying it away, taking in the view just as shamelessly as he did before, if not more so. You’d smack his face with a pillow if he didn’t have your hand held so tightly. “Telling me not to look’s like telling a dehydrated man not to drink. It’s plain cruel,” he laughs, and pulls your hand to his lips to give your fingers a fleeting kiss. Your eyelids flutter alongside your heart, and he grins.

Satisfied with the view, he slides down on the covers (you have to loosen your legs to accommodate), and stares up at you with a playful, shit-eating grin, his chin rested perfectly above your chest. “You don’t mind, right?”

“Don’t ask, do,” you huff, turning your head away in mock annoyance. Caleb’s more than happy to oblige and hums his approval while his hands move to trace the contours of your chest, moves down to press a light kiss to one side, and is quick to focus his mouth where it’s sensitive, have the bud harden under his tongue and send shocks of pleasure coursing through your body.

It even surprises you, how much you feel your face flame not just from pleasure, but pure embarrassment. This is Caleb , of all people. Not just some guy you started crushing on. Being this vulnerable and having his lips on your chest isn’t something you imagined even yesterday. If he saw you like this yesterday, you’d definitely die from shame. There’s not a glimmer of regret, but there’s heaps of embarrassment to spare and you bury your face into the pillow under you, tensing the more he plays. You knew nipples could feel good, but wow, they can feel good and his mouth on them sends shocks straight down your abdomen, makes heat settle low between your legs.

Finally, he pulls away, though his thumbs still graze over them, and he moves up to press a kiss to your jaw. “Don’t get all shy now. C’mon, show me that cute face of yours,” he hums, and you want to bury it even further being called cute (seriously, what the hell? You don’t know if it’s more embarrassing or insulting). But if only to show some semblance of control and confidence, you pull your head away and force yourself to meet Caleb’s adoring eyes, giving him a halfhearted glare with lips curled into a small pout.

“Looking at me like that only makes me wanna tease you more,” he murmurs, and moves to kiss your cheek (he’s so affectionate. It’s so much you almost don’t know how to handle it). And his hands slide down from your chest, settle at your waist and massage right above the band of your sweatpants. So close but not enough, the more his thumbs tease the more the heat becomes unbearable.

“Maybe you should use that mouth of yours for something other than talking,” you grumble, palms pushing Caleb’s head away. You huff with a side-turned head and peer at him from the corner of your eye, wiggling your hips. You couldn’t be more obvious.

“Demanding today, aren’t we?” He rubs his hands forward and back on your hips, trailing a slew of kisses down from the center of your chest to your abdomen, leaving flames in its wake. “Like what? I could make out with you until the sun rises, easy.”

The way Caleb looks at you, eyes flashing, you know what he wants. Those words to fall so reluctant from your tongue, to watch you drop your pride and ask. But Caleb’s had his way well enough, so instead of giving him the satisfaction of your words, you slide down your sweats and underwear, exhaling at the lack of restriction, the free air against your throbbing arousal. Caleb’s eyes go wide and you’re dragging his face between your thighs before he can retort, trying not to tremble from the absolute need that courses through your body. The thought of Caleb’s mouth on you, his tongue against you until your mind is numb.

“This.” You breathe, and Caleb can only let out a breathy chuckle.

“Whatever you say, your majesty,” he teases, smug but lets you guide his head, him dragging his hands down with it and across the planes of your thighs. They slide and down, palming close to your hips and earning him a small jolt, a bitten down noise.

Your fingers dig into his short hairs, dragging him down and rolling your hips to meet him halfway, urgent, needing. Caleb complies, gently mouthing at your inner thighs, biting at them (that gets a startled sound out of you that you instantly smother in fear of making too much noise.) And kisses and licks his way further up until he’s exactly where he needs to be, breaths hot and lips so close they could brush over you.

“To think you’re like this already…” he murmurs, cheeks flushed, and he dives his head down to slowly lick you into his mouth, your legs tensing and fingers shivering. His hands pet your thighs soothingly (it only makes you tremble more) and he sucks, holds your thighs so nice while they shake in his touch. He’s horribly slow, taking his sweet time to mouth against you, kiss against your aching heat and so gently take it into his mouth, painstakingly swirls his tongue. It’s not enough and you roll your hips into his mouth, mumbling curses.

“Dammit Caleb…” you groan, urging for more, grabbing and releasing at his hair, and his eyes flicker up to you, pupils blown and face a pretty red.

“Mm…” He hums, you shudder, and try not to burn at the sight of Caleb so pleased between your legs. Hands anchored to your thighs, mouth busy with a hardworking tongue as he eagerly lavishes you with attention. It’s good this time, not slow torture, and Caleb easily lets you rock your hips into his mouth, whine under the flat of his tongue and the sight of him between your legs. He pushes, holds you when you gasp and jerk into his touch and murmurs soothing hums while his mouth is busy on the taste of you. Your hips develop a rhythm of their own, chasing Caleb’s mouth over and over and when he briefly pulls back, he’s quick to stroke his fingers where his lips were, watch you sigh and and clutch at the parts of him you can reach.

“I wanna—“ he breathes, leans down to kiss the swell of your heat, laughs when you jump because of how swollen, how sensitive you are to his every move. You drag his face back down, his lips around you, not letting him finish the words he was trying to say. You just — his mouth — his warmth, you need, and you buck your hips into his touch, bursts of pleasure coming through you in waves the more his mouth moves in rhythm, the perfect pace he sets and the unfair way his tongue seems to do just the right thing to make you whine against bitten lips.

“Caleb,” you whisper, somewhere between a gasp and a whimper. Caleb’s tactic changes, he’s using one hand to keep a steady grip on your thigh while the other reaches up stroke at your sensitive hip, then sneaks up to your nipple to tease it under his thumb and forefinger. His mouth remains occupied, tongue and lips unrelenting, and the dual pleasure is so much it almost feels like too much. But he moves, hot, mouth in tandem with your restless hips, confident and warm and the almost unbearable heat between your legs grows and grows, until you’re biting back a strangled noise and digging your fingers into Caleb’s scalp. You hold his head in place while you ride out the throes of pleasure, Caleb’s mouth easing you through it, still pressing and stroking with the heat of his tongue when the orgasm ebbs away. You have to squirm and push Caleb’s head away, panting and soaked in a sheen of sweat.

Caleb’s lips, nose, chin, are coated in you and he shamelessly licks what he can away, watches as you breathe, catch your breath amidst the aftershocks of your pleasure. Your entire body feels flushed with heat, and the only sound you’re capable of making are quiet gasps for a moment or two.

“Fuck,” Caleb breathes, presses a hand over his mouth and he’s scrambling off the bed, rushing to rifle through his drawers. He pulls out a bottle of lube and jerks his head to where you’re still settled on the bed, steadying your pulse. You’ve eased yourself to sit up on your elbows, so you can watch in your curiosity, see what’s got him so worked up. Seeing him still fully clothed while your pants lay sweat-ridden and bunched at your ankles, shirt tossed in some corner makes your face fill with heat.

“Can I—would you—“ he returns to the bed, crawls between your open thighs and presses his forehead to yours. The heat of his breaths make you dizzy, and you can feel the flicker of a flame despite just bursting with heat. “Fuck, I just…” he murmurs, moving his head down to rest against your shoulder, lips pressing against the jut of the bone. And the way his nose presses against you, he nuzzles against you and so dearingly asks makes the answer come far too easy. You inhale, stroke his cheek, and nod.

“Mhm,” you agree, moving your head to press a sweet kiss to Caleb’s temple. He groans, wastes no time coating his fingers and slipping them against you, stroking in a tease, then pressing in one.

It’s cold, you tense and Caleb mouths at your collarbone, murmuring “I got you,” while his fingers sits, letting you adjust and you relax to the chill, shudder to the way the digit settles in you, doesn’t feel like enough, and he moves.

Maybe — you think — you didn’t properly think this through. Because while you’ve a short respite from coming, now you have a finger inside you, a hand exploring every inch of your body it can reach, and lips playing with the soft patch between your neck and shoulder that has you sighing and subconsciously quivering. Somehow it’s all too much and not enough all too soon after — and you actively dig your teeth into your lip to keep quiet, not risk sounds traveling through the walls.

“So…” Caleb inhales, his lips travel down to kiss at your chest, lick at your nipples once more and they stand to attention at his efforts. “So damn warm…” You wonder if he means the heat from your body or the way you feel around his finger. His lips tease while his finger thrusts at a steady rhythm and when it becomes comfortable (and lacking). You start to grind into his touch, craving more, shuddering when a soft noise leaves his throat.

You exhale, peer at the pink cheeks of your childhood friend — hell, your best friend. You feel your heart melt, then your body melt in tandem when his finger slips out so he can ease two of them in, slowly stretching you. They move deep, curling inside you and with the just perfect brush of his fingertips, you let out a pitched gasp and pull a hand up to cover your mouth. Caleb doesn’t say a thing, instead makes sure to move against that bundle of sensitive nerves over and over, watches you tense and squirm the more he focuses his attention.

“You’re pretty good at keeping quiet,” Caleb praises, and moves his face up to draw you into a long kiss, mouth in sync with the way he fucks you with his fingers, steady and perfectly bent to leave you panting. You whine against him, chasing his fingers with your hips. He sucks on your bottom lip, pulling away with a dirty pop, lips glistening. “Can’t wait for the day you don’t have to hold back.”

“Hah—shit…” You curse, wanting to come up with a coherent response but your words catch in your throat, interrupted by gasps, and your mind can’t even conjure what to say to something like that, but you feel your body throb, your hips jump at his praise. Caleb hums, presses a kiss to your cheek, and slides down.

He does that thing where he looks up at you from between your legs, cheek rested on your thighs damp with sweat. His lips curl into that gorgeous, sinful grin that’s stupidly hot and infuriating all at once and you squeeze his hair in half-assed annoyance. He kisses one thigh, turns and sucks a gentle bruise into the other - fuck, why does that feel so damn good. And he busies his mouth with the taste of you, fingers working a slowly building rhythm that has your palm firm over your mouth and the other hand steady in his hair while you try — and fail, to not fall into a haze of pleasure. You almost want to curse, being so weak under his fingers and mouth. Flip the scene and give him a taste of his own medicine. But his tongue knows just what to do and he knows just the way to move his head to have you unable to do anything but let out choked gasps and rut into his eager mouth.

Though you take his fingers easily now, feel prepared enough to handle all he has to offer, he doesn’t stop. The sound of his fingers sliding in and out of you and his pretty, obscene mouth on you fill the otherwise silent room, save for your gasps and sighs. You curl against him and huff, biting your lip and using both palms to still his head.

“If you keep going, I’ll—“ you warn, because his fingers aren’t enough but his mouth is too much, and if you’re left a quivering mess you won’t be able to handle Caleb fucking you on top of it. Caleb hums, his glimmering eyes flicker up to you, and you think they crinkle in amusement. You’ve learned not to trust that face of his.

And of course, the dick , he keeps going. Holds you down with one hand so he can push and spread his fingers deep, taste you on his tongue as he sucks. It’s enough to have you arching your back, whimpering quiet noises into the pillow you bury your face into. Your hips squirm of your own according, the heat pooling in your gut and threatening to burst and you try to push his head away, gasp weak complaints. Too much if he doesn’t stop you’ll — But he’s relentless and overwhelming. Fingers curling, mouth moving, his hand gripping your waist. And your body accepts it all until that feeling crescendos again, you turning into a shaking mess as you whisper quiet curses into the pillow, try to escape his mouth but he licks and pumps his fingers into you all throughout it to prologue how your back arches, the high washes over you over and over. When you slowly relax, he pulls away with a messy mouth, leaving you with breaths labored and somehow still sane enough to sport a glare.

“I told you—“

“Sorry,” he says, and kisses at your navel while he watches you with enthralled eyes, like you’re a piece of stunning art. But his eyes aren’t apologetic in the least, and you’d think it right to demand a proper one if your heart wasn’t thundering so quick you think it’ll leap out your chest. He sighs, scoots up to press a kiss against your chin, and whispers, so quiet. “Can I…?”

You huff, try to steady your breathing, and zone into the dull ache between your legs and the empty feeling from losing his fingers. Of course you want it, want him, it’s a matter of already having been pleasured to hell and back by this man twice. You’re spent, even if the idea of Caleb nude and flushed against you is hot as hell.

“There’s a reason I tried to tell you…” you sigh, brush some slick hairs from his eyes and observe the dazed, greedy look in his eyes. He really just wants it all, doesn’t he? You always thought you were spoiled by Caleb, but maybe, there are times when you spoil him.

“Mmm… it’s just nice, seeing you lose your composure,” he nuzzles into your neck, breath warm and your entire body reacts to something so small, so soft. “But we’ve got all the time in the world. Next time.”

And he exhales so warm, pulls his head away and you immediately grab both cheeks, drag Caleb’s lips to yours and kiss him so sweetly it feels something akin to love. Your hips tingle, and the idea makes you absolutely dizzy, but you mouth it against his lips anyway.

“Finish what you started.”

Caleb doesn’t immediately answer or react, he simply observes you, watches the way your arms cling to him. For good measure, you wrap your legs around him and roll, right into the hard erection confined in his pants. He gasps, gripping the duvet beside your head.

“If… If it’s too much. Just pinch me. Or tap me a few times. Do whatever, really, shit,” Caleb hisses, and he’s finally stripping off that stupid bed shirt of his and tossing it unceremoniously across his room, breaths slow and deep as though to calm himself.

It’s not your first time seeing Caleb shirtless, but it is the first time you’re able to admire the full view in dim glory. Amidst the streaks of moonlight through the window, the red of his necklace sparkles. He wears it, even in his sleep, and you try not to think too much on how he must’ve cherished it. Treated it like a prized possession, because it makes a surge of happiness flood through you with a mix of guilt for never treating Caleb’s gifts or gestures just as precious.

“Oh, so when I stare, it’s a problem. But when you stare, it’s fine, huh?” Caleb chuckles, and his pants are kicked off with no shame. He’s so eager he doesn’t even try to make it sexy, he just looks like he’s dying to feel every inch of you, finally be able to feel the whole of you tight around him. It’s so silly and so Caleb you just have to laugh, and it’s nice when he laughs in turn, makes you feel serene.

“Think of it like payback,” You decide to say. Payback for making you come from his mouth and fingers when he knew you wanted to feel him inside of you. Caleb makes an approving noise, leans back over you, and the sight of his flushed, toned body with his necklace dangling down is way sexier than it has any right to be. He slides a hand up your thigh, gives it an encouraging squeeze when you tremble, and his lips find yours in a fleeting kiss.

“Guess I gotta do all I can to make up for it,” he whispers in a ghost of a kiss, and settles between your legs, erection strained in his underwear and words way too calm for someone who looks like he can’t stand waiting a minute longer. He shoves them down well enough with one hand and he springs free, eager and leaking at the pink tip. You think it’s almost pretty, the way it stands, twitches when you thumb his cheeks.

He captures your lips the same moment he lifts your thighs, lines himself where he had his fingers buried deep only a minute or two ago, and slowly, slowly pushes. Sighs into your mouth as he sinks into you, and you grab at his back, wrap your arms so tight around him as he just fills you, moves as you cling to him. You think the wait alone is torture when he finally settles deep, hips flush to yours and mouth swallowing any weak noises you utter. You’re still so sensitive and even just the feeling of his cock inside, barely moving, is enough to make you clutch at him.

“You feel so perfect,” he utters, shaking hands settled on the sides of your face, lips plush on your jaw. He buries his face in your neck, slowly, slowly moves out, and you can feel his entire body shaking on top of you as he pushes again, deep into you and fills you perfect. So hot inside of you, you can’t help but squeeze around him. He chokes against your skin, kisses at it while his hips steadily draw out—then you think he loses his composure a little. His hips sputter, and his pushes into you quicker, steady, and holy fuck is your body just quivering and you already feel a mess, heat between your legs near unbearable and Caleb’s cock stretching you open for him.

“Caleb…” You gasp, bite back the moans that want to continually spill from your throat while Caleb steadily pumps, in and out. It’s so tender, and even though your body is an absolute mess, you just need more and drag in Caleb with the strength of your legs wrapped around him, helplessly grind into his cock, and Caleb understands the message loud and clear. He shakes, kisses your shoulder, and pulls out to snap his hips against yours, murmurs small affirmations against your skin as he fucks you, heavy and deep and your body is a squirming mess, like it isn’t even your own. You’re whining and biting back every loud, broken noise that threatens to leave your mouth with the rock of his hips.

“Shit—Caleb, it’s—“ you gasp, be hums into your shoulder and looks at you with wild eyes while he pushes into you over and over. Your legs are a mess and you’re gasping, trying to focus on swallowing down the noises in your throat but Caleb’s driving you absolutely insane and when he positions himself just right, you’re letting out a sharp cry and your body arches into his touch.

“Don’t wake the whole neighborhood now.” He coos against your collarbone, and gently covers your mouth, palm flat so all you can do is groan against his hand, weak noises and sharp gasps muffled. Every inch of you feels sensitive, alight, and the hand not silencing you gently massages your chest while he fucks you deep into the mattress, the sounds of skin against skin filling the room. It’s filthy and you absolutely love it, even if your body is screaming it’s on fire, and all your nerves are alight from being so thoroughly handled.

“Mmn—!” You gasp, unable to even articulate how it feels to have Caleb rolling his hips into yours so damn hot while you can barely control the way your body reacts. You think he swells even more when inside you, thick and hot and nearly every thrust hitting you so you see stars. You gape, claw at his neck and anything you can cling to on him, while his movements gradually speed up and he pounds into you relentlessly, cries muffled by his palm.

“You have no idea how much I wanted this…” Caleb gasps, breaths heavy, lifting his palm and resting it sweetly on your face instead. He looks at you so damn adoring while he’s fucking you senseless, watching you gasp and start to squirm under him when the sensation builds upon too much. “Wanted you. Like this.”

“Gh… Y-Yeah…?” You somehow manage to choke out while your body has a mind of its own, squirming and shaking and Caleb’s hands hold you right where he needs you as he slides in and out of you again, pulls out so only the tip is in and snaps his hips against yours in a fluid motion. You wonder if it’s because your most recent orgasm was so close, left you so sensitive you feel like you’re already on the brink. You hang onto Caleb for purchase and try not to cry out as he pushes into you over and over and over.

“You’re way too hot. You feel way too—haah —good.” Caleb curses as he moves, hold your hips and reaches a hand down between the two of you to tease you with sweet fingers while he pumps into you. “You. Undone. Under me,” he murmurs, and your hips helplessly buck into his touch, fingers clutch him tight as he fucks you.

“Y-You…ah—Caleb,” you try to respond, but the way Caleb rocks his hips, and his hand wastes no time driving you mad, you feel that feeling build, build and build so quick, so perfect. You want to retort, say anything to flip his words on him, but you know you’re a gasping mess and can’t focus your mind enough to put up a decent argument. So you clutch at his slick skin, bury your fingers so deep it pales, and whine “I’m… I’ll… ‘M about to…”

Caleb hears you loud and clear, keeps the pace of him pumping into you and is always sure to angle the way your hips slot together perfectly, so each thrust hits you with a deep wave of pleasure and his fingers leave you weak.

“You always act so strong, so tough. It’s nice I can get you like this,” he speaks, and if your mind wasn’t in such fog you’d probably be a little annoyed, but all you can do is whimper at how his voice whispers low in your ear, and the way he circles his hips perfectly to make you gasp, clench, and make him groan in return.

That feeling approaches, the familiar feeling of being undone by Caleb and at the mercy of his mouth, fingers and thrusts. He murmurs sweet words against your lips, and it’s all you can handle when you’re biting your lip and your body is pulled taught like a string, shuddering and powerful as you feel a burst of pleasure like no other, so strong and prolonged you wonder if it’ll ever end, so much you actually see white. Caleb doesn’t relent on his thrusts, fucks you through it, and he doesn’t stop when you’re quivering either and suddenly it’s too much all at once. Your body is still in tremors and shakes as he grasps your hips firm, presses a soothing kiss to your temple as you start to squirm and let out weak noises.

It’s too much and too fast and you’re so sensitive and you can’t— “Caleb,” you choke out, body naturally moving to escape the sensation, but Caleb’s hands hold you steady.

“Want—“ he rasps, “want me to stop? All you gotta do is tap me,” he murmurs so sweet in your ear, and tears prick in your eyes as the pleasure, the sensitivity is so blinding you can’t keep them from your face. And you quietly cry and squirm but hold on tight, not tapping, not pinching. It’s torture but it feels terribly amazing in the best way, even if Caleb has to keep a firm hold so you don’t scramble from his grasp.

“Too much, I can’t, Caleb,” you sob, Caleb kisses the tears that fall down your cheeks so sweetly and proceeds to fuck you silly. Your heart is pounding, your whole body is a shaking over sensitive mess and the feeling is so intense your mind can barely formulate words. “I—please, fuck…” you babble, can’t string together full sentences and just whimper under him. Fuck if you’re never at someone’s mercy like this, you wonder if it’s better or worse that it’s Caleb.

“So damn cute,” he breathes out in broken fragments, breaths quickening as he thrusts deep, hard, accepts every whimper and plea that leaves your wet lips. “You can relax around me, trust me. Let me take care of you.”

“Ah…!” You wish you could respond, you really do, but the only thoughts you can formulate are pleads and Caleb, the endless pleasure bordering pain he pushes you through. He’s so sweet in your hair as his pace quickens and his breaths are shallow, ragged. His face is a damp mess and strings of hair cling to his forehead as he utters your name — your name, not ‘pipsqueak’, over and over. Whispers your name in your ears, mouths it on your temple, presses his lips against your neck as he sighs it. You melt and squeeze your teary eyes shut, clawing at Caleb and letting him pound you into oblivion. You feel fucking ruined and Caleb kisses your tears and pets your head all throughout it.

“Dammit, seriously, what am I gonna do with you…” He rasps, and you think your hazy mind can classify it as positive. His thrusts are quick and it’s not soon after that he’s suddenly groaning, hips going still as he holds deep inside you, trembling as he spills. Deep, warm. You quiver and finally find relief in his slowed thrusts, the way he holds himself with shaky breaths and bright red cheeks, sweat sliding down his temple. Slowly, he stills, panting, and when he’s nearly done shaking, he slowly pulls himself out. The feeling of both being empty and filled is filthy, but you haven’t the energy to burn on feeling embarrassed when you can barely form a sentence. You gasp, wipe at the tears that rolled down your face, and can’t keep the tiny quivers from racking through your body even after the high has passed.

“You okay, pipsqueak?” He whispers after, leaning down to press a gentle kiss to your lips. You nod, mute, and have to give yourself a bit to be able to respond in full. He seems to understand that much, and rolls to the side so he can gently hold you in his affection.

“That was…wow,” you murmur, and bury your head into his damp chest, the sent of oak and sweat. “Can’t move…” The thought of so much as standing seems impossible, your brain is in this weird, pleasant fog and you can barely focus.

“Did I go overboard?” His laugh is light and raw, lips settled on your forehead.

“It was a lot,” you answer, and your fingers trace over his bicep. Who knew fighter pilots had to be so toned? “It’s hard to think but…” you hum, and adjust your buzzing limbs so you’re a little more comfortable. “It was… good.”

“Good. Guess I’ll put that on the list of things you like,” you feel his lips curl against your forehead, probably grinning. You don’t even have the energy to glare.

“You have a list?”

“In my mind,” he says, and you decide to pull back from his chest a little, if only to see his expression.

Sweat-ridden but sparkling with an air of pleasant satisfaction. Eyes alight, cheeks warm. Since when was Caleb so damn beautiful?

“Next time…” You look up at him with heavy eyes. Feel almost drunk as your body sags and your speech comes out in quiet rasps, throat spent from all the cries you swallowed down. “It’s your turn,” you run your fingers across his lean chest, feel the way his muscles jump with laugher and his heart is starting to slow into a steady rhythm. He’s so irritatingly attractive.

You’re not used to feeling so utterly spent, helpless after. Your legs would collapse under you like a fawn learning to walk if you tried anything right now. You’d like to see Caleb come undone under your fingers, unable to keep himself from writhing while you tease him endlessly. In that way, you’re both similar, you suppose, and you can hardly blame Caleb for the way he gets off on you clawing at him.

“Can’t wait,” he says easily, almost makes you more mad at how easily he accepts your words. He strokes your cheek, wipes the remnants of tears, and holds you comfortably in his palm. “You look so good when you’re a mess.”

“Hush now,” you sigh, and turn your head to kiss his palm. He pads your lip so gently, traces shapes across them (you think one is a heart). It’s so silly but so him and he continually manages to make your heart fill.

“I’m scared I’ll wake up and this’ll all be a dream.” He pulls you to him, buries his nose in your hair and strokes your back like he hasn’t seen you in years and needs to confirm your existence. “It feels like a dream. You in my arms. Kissing me. Wanting me.” He draws back so he can tilt your head up and peer into your eyes. You think the sun is starting to rise, his eyes are as clear as ever yet clouded with contentment and apprehension. “You like me, don’t you?” His hands hold you so sweetly, his eyes are so raw. “Pretty sure I’ve loved you as long as I can remember.”

You blink, try to process his words in the fog of your mind and feel yourself run warm when you’re able to take his words piece by piece and understand them, digest them in full. The word ‘love’ tickles your ears, and you try not to let the tears flow again (who knew being so wrecked made you stupidly emotional) and nod quickly, covering the hand that holds your cheek.

“Of course I like you. I’ve trusted and cared about you as long as I can remember.” Your hand on his chest stills, presses so you can hear the drum of his heartbeat that’s now relatively fast. You can’t judge, when your heartbeats are so heavy you feel them in the back of your throat. “I’ll love you back, someday. The way you love me. I’ve loved you like my best friend, as a person, for the longest, though.”

“I’ve waited so long to hear that…” Caleb sighs, your eyes flicker to the chain around his neck, and you silently vow to yourself to sometimes let go of your stubborn streak, take care of Caleb the way he loves to take care of you. You hum and nuzzle into his chest, basking in how warm he feels, skin against skin, heating you, like a pleasant wood fire on a cozy winter night.

You sigh, can’t bite back a small smile, and let your eyelids flutter, your weak body sink into the mattress as Caleb’s slow breaths and caresses lull you, goad you to rest.

Caleb’s skin, heat, the love and affection you feel encased in each featherlight touch draws you in, comforts you enough to let your consciousness fade. Like a soothing lullaby.

It’s perfect, knowing you’ll wake up in his arms the next morning.

—

Sequel — Caleb Loves to Bully You in Bed

[smallestapplin]

Can I request some cute Soundwave stuff? 👉🏻👈🏻 Maybe human reader bringing him some of their favorite songs and trying to dance with him despite the huge height difference.

I am so down bad for this thank you.

-

-

You smile up at Soundwave, finding his curious head tilt adorable as you held up a device for him to look at. Earth technology is so primitive compared to Cybertrons, so it takes him a moment to realize it’s a music device? But it’s so small.

“Inquiry : what is this?”

You chuckle before gesturing for it back, “It’s my phone, silly! I was hoping, since things have been steady, I could show you some songs I like, maybe I could make a playlist for us.”

The large mech’s visor gleams down from where you stand on his desk, staring down at you knowing you can’t read his hidden expression, and for once Soundwave is grateful for that, you can’t see his optics go wide at your words or the small smile twitching on his dermas.

A playlist for just the two of you? He could make one, in fact he could make personalized songs for you, maybe-

“Soundwave? It’s alright if you don’t want to hear Earth music, I won’t make you.”

“No, please proceed, I want to hear what you like.” He sets his data pad down, his attention fully onto you and your tiny device. The music is too quiet to start, but Soundwave always comes in with a plan, using your phone’s Bluetooth to hook it up to his own systems.

You look happy, even swaying to the upbeat music and singing a long to your catchy love song. Humans are strange, you are strange, yet his spark pulses as he feels like you’re directing it at him.

Such strange words, but he’s quick to catch on and mentally replace the human words with Cybertronian terms, making it clear what it’s about.

“C’mon, give me your hand, or your finger. You need to loosen up.”

His visor brightens and the music skips a beat before swiftly getting back on track, are you asking him to dance? You’re so much smaller than him, so so tiny, and yet he finds himself mindlessly agreeing. Your tiny hands wrap around his index digit, pulling slightly to get him closer and to follow your beat.

He feels like he’s back on Cybertron before the war, care free, doing what he loves after work. Soundwave easily begins to follow, his hips swaying and pedes moving to the beat as if in a tango with you, moving and swinging you around his desk, dipping you gently.

Spark thrumming at the sound of your gleeful laughs and giggles, he can’t help joining you in your joy with soft laughter of his own. It feels silly dancing like this, yet you two move in sync, matching each others rhythm. There is a comfort in knowing that, as he records your smiling face, how you look up at him with such raw love and adoration. He’s moving before he can even process it, picking you up in his servo, catching you off guard, and holding you face level with him.

“Whoa! H-hey, a warning next time, yeah?” You laugh, sitting sweetly in the center of his servo.

Your eyes sparkling as his mouth guard retracts, letting you see his lips for once, even in the time you’ve been together he’s never liked taking it off, but now?

“May I kiss you?”

Your cheeks feel like they are burning, eyes widening at his request, but how you’ve always wanted to.

“I’d like that.”

There it is again, the music skipping a few beats, as if affected by his emotions. You stand up carefully, walking closer to him as he moves you closer to his face plate. It’s a bit awkward, but it’s so pure in his optics, how your much softer lips press against his derma, by this point the music is a jumbled up mess unable to play right from the flustered mess of a con before you.

You are all he wants, everything he damned.

Brain module racing for ideas on what songs to make you, what earth songs he could add to it, anything just he needs to make it for you.

“Thank you for the dance, Soundwave.”

He almost wanted to kiss you again the second you pulled away from him.

“Request : can we do this again?”

Your joy is infectious, almost as much as you getting to see his smile, though only briefly as his mask is quickly brought back up, hiding his lips from your view again.

Your heart racing knowing you must be special to him for such an act.

“I’d like that very much.”

[ye4gerism]

Hii!! Can I request a fic where reader and Curly have a more happier life kinda au? Which includes them having their own kid/baby? If you want, you can add a bit of smut here and there🤭🤭 (Sorry if i’m being too specific, feel free to reject this request if you don’t feel like writing it.)

𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐈𝐓 𝐄𝐍𝐃𝐒 𝐓𝐎𝐃𝐀𝐘 - 𝐂𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐀𝐈𝐍 𝐂𝐔𝐑𝐋𝐘 𝐗 𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐄𝐑

word count 3.1k

content warning pregnancy struggles, parenthood, jimmy has a wife, tension, black reader friendly

author’s note sorry for the radio silence 😳 college is so weird. also, there isn’t any smut in this, anon😭 didn’t know how to fit it in. and…nobody’s really happy here🧍🏾‍♀️anyway, pls enjoy this fic.

synopsis curly doesn’t get on the tulpar and starts a family with you. you have the best daughter you could ever ask for and you finally feel at peace with your husband. but, per usual, jimmy has to butt his way in.

Dinner tonight was inauthentic tacos. It wasn't the taco place you and Curly liked to visit when you were dating but to you, it tasted just as good. The kitchen was filled with the smell of seasoned and spiced meat that was slightly burned at the bottom of the pan.

The swing of the front door follows with two sets of footsteps, one faster and lighter than the heavier one that harmonized with it. "Take your shoes...wait a second kiddo!" you hear your husband call out. Evidently, his pleas didn't work as your little girl met you in the kitchen. "Mommy!" She raises her hands for you to hold her.

"I'll hug you in a moment, sweetie. My hands are dirty. Can you listen to your dad and take your shoes off? And maybe wash your hands and come eat dinner?" you ask. Your four-year-old nods before running out of the kitchen. Curly crossed paths with her but stopped to remind her not to run.

Your husband's head pops over the kitchen counter and once he locks eyes with you, he shakes his head. Curly walks around to embrace you. He gives you a long kiss as he's been out all day at work and with your daughter. "How are you, Mrs. Curly?" he asks, his forehead resting against yours. "I'm good now that you're here, Mr. Curly," you answer back.

"I might have gotten her ice cream after school, which is why she's a little out of control. Sorry," he then says. You shake your head and chuckle.

"Who knows if she's actually washing her hands? I should go check on her - make sure she's not wasting any water." You wiggle yourself out of his arms and start to walk away from Curly but he grabs your hand and pulls you in again - your back against his torso this time. He locks you in with his arms around your belly.

"Who cares? You know I can afford the bill and besides," he leans down and places kisses from your temple down to the crook of your neck, "We don't get much time to ourselves these days." One of his hands leaves your belly and finds its way to the band of your pants. You slap his hand. "Not now, silly."

Curly chuckles and brings his back to where it originally was. Your bodies rock together and he hums. "But hey, it'd be nice to have another. I think we can do one more baby," he says suddenly.

Your body slows. "It was hard to get pregnant the first time and it was even more difficult to have her."

One day, your contractions felt off and irregular. You alerted Curly and sooner or later, he was packing your car with all the baby stuff you needed. You get checked into the hospital and examined by your doctor, who lets you know you're in early labor and that you are fine to go home. Something about the whole thing didn't feel right - so you stayed.

Hours later, they tell you the baby isn't coming - at least the way you expected. The baby isn't in the right position.

They rush you to the operation room, your husband right at their heels. Nurses help prepare the room and dress your husband in a hospital blue hospital garment.

There isn't really much you remember except for the clutch Curly had on your hand and the blueness in the room. Your doctor, after the longest time, tells you that the baby's out but you don't hear any cries and you see how some of your medical team has walked away from your open body.

You don't have much energy to yell and your husband is as confused and panicked. You hear pats from the other side of the room and finally a cry. A wave of relief washes over you and you close your eyes.

The next time you open your eyes, you're back in your hospital room. Curly's asleep on the sofa. You look over to your right and see the bassinet with a pink label reading 'Baby Girl Curly'.

"I don't know if I want to do it again, Curly," you tell him. His hands settle where your c-section scar sits. He doesn't say anything. You did have a conversation once about what it would have been like if you guys had kids earlier but you were both focused on your careers and got married later than what is considered usual by society.

"We're lucky to have one...to have her. Just be grateful for what we could have." You pull away from his grasp when you hear the little footsteps approaching the kitchen.

"My hands are clean!" your little girl exclaims. She holds her visibly wet hands at you. You rip a piece of paper towel and help your daughter dry her hands. "Good job, baby girl. Now, tell me what you want on your taco..."

"Daddy, did you tell Mommy about your friend who we saw at the ice cream place today?"

Curly gives your daughter a pointed look. "Don't talk while you're eating, sweet girl. The taco shells are pretty sharp. I don't want you to choke."

Normally, the three of you would have small conversations throughout dinner but tonight with almost silent with your choice of meal and the awkwardness from your conversation with Curly.

"No, he hasn't," you respond, looking at Curly. He avoids your gaze but if he could see you, he'd read 'it better not be Jimmy' in your eyes. "But I'll ask him later, sweetie."

Curly was booked to go on the Tulpar but decided to pull out when you found out you were pregnant with your daughter. The pony people were pissed, so Curly quit, causing them to restaff the mission. Jimmy's life seemingly got better; you say this because he became the captain of the Tulpar trip and he even got married to some girl he swears he didn't kidnap or brainwash. They also share a daughter. In Jimmy's head, he's one step ahead of Curly but to you, the only thing he lacks is true love and passion.

Dinner's finished and it's time for your daughter to get ready for bed. Curly takes care of bath time, which lasts thirty minutes. You meet him in the bedroom to wish your daughter good night but the moment you get there, her eyes are already closed. Curly sits at the side of her bed, staring at her lovingly. You lean on the doorframe and take in the image of your family.

"I thought about what you said...maybe she's all we need," he says quietly. He looks up at you. "We do have other options though. We can always adopt. I just...I just don't want to hurt you or lose you."

"When we get there, we can talk more. Let's let her sleep, come on," you respond. Curly gets up and meets you at the door. You close it and waste no second asking about his whereabouts.

"Was it Jimmy you saw today? When you went for ice cream?"

Curly puts his hands up in defense. "He just happened to be there with his daughter. He saw us and came over to say hello. Our daughters really kicked it off - you know how quickly kids make friends."

You cross your arms. "There's more you aren't telling me."

"He invited us to do some grilling...like old times!" Curly confesses. "I know you probably don't want to go but I...I think enough time has passed and I haven't seen my friend in a long time. It'd be nice for you to meet his kid."

You scoff. "The kid that he has with his wife that is how many years his junior? Curly, please."

You both share a silence. Curly looks down at his feet sheepishly and you can see right through him.

"And what do you mean friend? The same friend who made it his mission to ruin us? The one who didn't want any of this to happen?"

Curly's even more embarrassed. "You're right. Probably shouldn't call him my friend."

"Fine. Just this once...but I want this to stop, Grant. You live a different life now. Only God knows what would have happened if you got on that ship and, frankly, I'm glad I never have to worry about that."

Curly can't meet your gaze and you begin to feel guilty. You brush your fingers against his arm. "Hey, cheer up. At least you'll get to see your hot wife every day."

He hums before pulling you close to him by your waist. "You're right. I can never be upset about that."

"Really? I'm not convinced. Prove it to me."

You wrap your arms around his neck and he cups one hand under your thigh before lifting you. Curly presses his nose against yours. "Oh, I'll prove it to you."

You giggle at his response as he begins to carry you down the hall to your shared bedroom.

Saturday rolls around.

And the animosity you feel towards the upcoming event returns.

"You don't have to come if you don't want to," Curly says. He's buttoning the last button on his shirt.

"Well, I need to keep an eye on you and your boyfriend."

"I can call and tell him we can't make it."

"Oh, don't do that on my accord! Please, let's go visit good ole Jimmy and move on with our lives!"

You and Curly share a look of annoyance. The past few days, things have been tense between the two of you. You almost regret enabling him to go to this barbecue but at the same time, you just wanted him to get Jimmy out of his system.

The car ride was backed by your daughter's vocals and the nursery rhymes she asked you to play. You admire your daughter through the front view mirror - if anything she was your saving grace. She was the only one who could really brighten then your day. She was all you needed.

Curly finally pulls into Jimmy's driveway. He lives in a one-story dark blue home. His front lawn is decorated with leaves and he has a few lawn chairs out.

Curly gets out of the car first and heads to the back to unbuckle your daughter out of her seat. You sigh at the sight of Jimmy's home; you had to march up to his home with this apple pie sitting on your lap and act like there wasn't a time when he tried to make you feel inferior. Your daughter was going to have a play date with his and your husband was going to crack open beers with him like they're frat bros catching up.

Your husband knocks on the passenger side of the window, waking you out of your thoughts. He lingers for a moment, a firm line across his face. Soon, he walks away from the passenger seat, allowing you to leave. Eyes on the house, you take a deep breath and follow after Curly and your daughter.

Curly knocks on the door and after a few minutes, the locks turn and the door opens.

Jimmy stands before you: hair up to his shoulder, stubble more prominent, and overall, he seems brighter and happier. His signature slouch is gone and stands like an actual man.

"Curly, you made it!" The two men do a handshake and hug combo along with that deep laugh that all men like to do for whatever reason. Jimmy separates from Jimmy and gets down to your daughter's level, which triggers your fight or flight. But the soft look in his eyes calms you. "Hey there again, little lady." He places his right hand out for your daughter to shake. "Aisha's in the backyard if you wanna play with her." Your daughter wastes no time running to the back.

Jimmy stands up and his eyes land on you. Your breath hitches again and you find it difficult to stand next to Curly.

Jimmy shoves his hands in his pockets. "Mrs. Curly. Long time, no see."

"What is there to see, Jimmy?" you say. There's a bit of hostility in your voice, which makes Curly look over his shoulder at you and cringe slightly. His eyes beg you to behave.

Jimmy opens his mouth but is interrupted by the touch of his wife. She takes hold of his arm and smiles brightly at him. She's still as beautiful as the first time you saw her: her skin was like smooth chestnut, her braided hair wrapped up in a way that complimented her smile, and she was tall and slim. And ridiculously young...at least ridiculously younger than Jimmy. The only difference is that her belly was slightly swollen.

"Why are you still keeping our guest outside?" And her voice is sweet. You still don't know how Jimmy landed her...or what he did to convince her to pick him. "Please ignore him and come in." She ushers you into their home.

Their home looks like a home: shoes by the door, baby gifts in the living room, and family portraits everywhere. "Jimmy's was just about to start with the grill, if you want to help out, Curly," Mrs. Jimmy says. Jimmy elbows Curly playfully and gestures that they head outside.

You're left alone with Jimmy's unbelievably gorgeous wife. She takes note of the pie still in your hand. "I can take that. The little one's been craving some apple pie," she jokes, rubbing her belly. She takes the pie from your hands and goes to the kitchen. You follow.

"Remind me your name. Curly's mentioned you but I can't remember your name to save my life," you admit.

"Jada. And you're...y/n, correct?"

You nod. "Yeah, Jimmy doesn't talk about you as much as he talks about Curly but he says you weren't a big fan of his."

And yet, you still aren't.

You decide to change the subject. "So, how far along are you?"

Jada places the pie in the fridge. She takes out a few items - microwaveable mashed potatoes and mac and cheese - before closing the fridge. "I'm five months. Jim wants another girl but I think we're having a boy. What about you?"

"Oh, I'm not pregnant-"

"I-I wasn't making that assumption! I was going to ask if you were planning on having any more..."

You hold your stomach uncomfortably now. "I think I'll head outside now. Just to check on the girls."

You leave Jada standing there uncomfortably.

"This is the first time you two have met, huh?" Jimmy realizes. He's on his first beer. One hand grips the bottle and the other is resting on his wife’s waist.

"I think so," Curly answers for you. You're tucked under his arm and you're fuming. He's on his second beer. The girls are inside, watching a Disney movie. "Babe, you should hear the story of how they met."

Oh, you're very well aware. Jada worked at a sports bar called Sirens and Jimmy was a regular. He'd ask for her and tip her in large amounts. You're not sure what order this happened in, but she fell for him, had his baby, and married him in a courthouse ceremony - all before 26.

"I'm actually going to find the bathroom." You get up and quickly walk towards the screen door.

You close the door behind you and let out a sigh. Aisha and your daughter are on the couch, laughing and eating their hamburgers. They don't notice you and you just take in the sight. If only they could be friends under normal circumstances.

You really don't have to use the bathroom, so you step into the kitchen to breathe. Picking the kitchen as a place to calm down started to feel like a bad idea as all of a sudden you began to feel uncomfortable.

"She's something...just like you. Had a lot to say when I first met her. Smart girl you have there."

You're startled by the sound of Jimmy's voice. He inches closer to you but stops, leaving some distance between you. He sizes you up, attempting to look like the bigger person.

He tries to hide behind a casual tone but you can tell he wasn't being genuine. He never thought highly of you; he didn't like you because you always chose to go beyond what was expected of you. In his eyes, as Curly's lover, you were meant to be obedient and quiet but you defied that. "Hopefully she grows out of that. You were kind of a pain in the ass."

You collect yourself. He may scare the shit out of you but one thing he wasn't going to do was insult your daughter. "She's a blessing," you cut in. "You were well aware of how hard Curly and I worked to become parents. He'd call you on the phone and tell you what was going on. You think I didn’t know about that? And still, after so many years, you talk down on me. Give it a rest, Jimmy."

Jimmy's face goes pale and suddenly he’s not so smug anymore. He was there for the negative tests, the false positive, and understood Curly's desire for a family.

"In a way, you're still her stupid, fucking uncle that I can't rid of. So be that. Don't look at my child as some sort of inconvenience," you finish.

The last time you both were in a kitchen, Jimmy had you in a corner. He violated you. He sent you running home. But you won't let it happen again. "Thank you for inviting us, Jimmy. Best of luck to you and your family." You walk around him, leaving him with his own thoughts.

You're sitting in your bed, finishing up some work when you're interrupted by a light knock. You put away your iPad, ready for your daughter to emerge.

But instead Curly enters the bedroom.

Since Jimmy's barbecue, Curly's been sleeping on the couch; he goes after your daughter's tucked-in and returns to your bedroom before she wakes up. He really really pissed you off with his carelessness. However, some part of you took responsibility for even allowing him to accept Jimmy's invitation.

That invitation wasn't just to grill but to briefly bring back bad habits.

"I know you don't want to see me right now, I want to apologize to you." Curly sits at the edge of the bed. "I don't know why I got comfortable. I really don't have an explanation. I should have declined Jimmy's invitation. I'm sorry, my love."

You tap your lap, allowing him to come closer to you. Curly rests his head on your thigh and you finger through his hair. "Ever since the day we've met, you've broken a lot of promises and have talked me through plenty of apologies concerning that man-"

"And it ends today. I'm really sorry I put you through that."

You don’t say anything back but continue to play with his hair. Your relationship was built on promises, most of them broken by him. One can only hope he’ll do right by you now.

[certifiedfreec]

i can’t stop thinking about neighbor!graves… 🤔

🏡 you’re new to the neighborhood, getting all your things moved in and seemingly drowning in all the boxes of stuff you have. you ordered some items to replace the ones that got damaged or lost during transit, so that only added on to the cardboard-ridden mess that was your new living room.

🏡 a few days after settling in, you finally notice one of your packages has a mysterious name on it: phillip graves. you suddenly feel bad; how long has this guy been missing his delivery?? you bustle out your door in your pajamas, looking for the house number that matches the one on the package until you finally find it. it’s a fairly large house with dark, sophisticated paint. it’s across and over from yours with a huge black truck backed into the driveway. very snazzy for a truck, you think, hurrying your way to the tall entry door and ringing the doorbell.

🏡 “hey, how can i help ya?” his slight twang is warm and uplifting when he opens the door, eyeing you with a keen interest. god, he’s pretty. he sees what’s standing before him in the cutest little pj set and he’s feeling like an angel was dropped at his doorstep. meanwhile, you’re freaking out- standing there in your scrubby pajamas in front of this ridiculously attractive man, who is apparently your neighbor, and you’ve been holding onto his package without him knowing. (you realize there’s another package of his you’d like to hold though- ba dum tss!)

🏡 you shyly introduce yourself, pointing toward your house and then handing him the box, which he accepts with a teasing “gonna have to tell the HOA about the new thief on the block,” and a quick wink. it nearly melts you, but we must stay focused brothers!! he thanks you and introduces himself as phillip, taking the chance to let you know that you caught him at a good time because he’s often out for extended periods of time with his work. the poor baby must exhaust himself with how busy he is :(

🏡 you hear what he’s saying and being the new, good little neighbor you are, you offer to swing by and grab his mail, check on his plants, and do some basic house upkeep whenever he’s gone. hook, line, and sinker- it’s just what he wants to hear. he accepts your offer with that pearly grin of his, but not without adding his contact info to your phone so he can let you know when he’ll be out of town :’) he’s just so handsome that you feel like you won the jackpot!

🏡 from that day on, it’s like you keep bumping into each other outside- how silly! you start to find some excuses to be out front, maybe to check your roof for any damage or plant some flowers along the side yard, and whaddaya know, neighbor!graves soon finds himself outside giving his big ‘ol truck a wash (you could swear it’s already spotless). god, those flexing muscles and the wet t-shirt clinging to them are much more interesting than your rhododendrons.

🏡 he’s such a friendly neighbor- he’s really taken a liking to you! <3 whenever he’s actually home, he’s got your grocery bags carried inside or he’s grilled some barbecue that you’d be “downright ridiculous not to try”- his words, not yours! it’s delicious, of course, and he credits all his skills to his old man and his “coworkers.” you decide to bake him some sweets in return, and he just about melts. you’re just so good, and so is your baking! he’d really like to taste something else though, too…

🏡 now, neighbor!graves is a pretty nosy guy, so he’s taken it upon himself to keep you in the loop on all the drama in the neighborhood. but really, can you blame him? it’s in his nature to find intel- someone in the community has to do it! this is also a subtle way of letting you know that he’ll be keeping an eye on you, too- because he’s gotta look out for his fellow neighbors, especially if they’re adorable ;)

🏡 eventually he’s away for a few weeks and you’re on deck to pick up his mail, water his indoor plants, all that good stuff. he gives you a key before he leaves and tells you “go ‘head and keep it, mi casa es su casa,” fully inviting you to get comfy in his space- and you do! his furniture is so sleek yet so cozy, his living room complete with a super plush leather couch and a ridiculously large tv. you gather from all his medals and badges decorating the place that he’s very accomplished at what he does- this guy’s the real deal. you also get a nagging feeling that you want to spend more time in his space- it’s just so comfortable, and it smells like sweet vetiver and crisp mint :’)

🏡 so… neighbor!graves, being the nosy guy that he is, has been tracking when you’ve been going over by checking his high-end front door camera from his phone. he can’t help but get flustered at the idea of you in his most personal space- god, he wants you in his bed- and he starts to remember your routine. when he’s finally finished with his operation, he may or may not schedule his flight so that he arrives home shortly after the time usually head over, and your entire body stills when you hear his garage go up. he walks in with some heavy-looking bags wearing an all-black outfit, and you almost swoon. he’s such a man.

🏡 woops, surprise! he apologizes for forgetting to mention when he’d be getting home. he’s so damn excited to see you in his house though, so cute and dutiful, having left his plants perfectly hydrated and not a speck of dust in the area. he has an inkling-no, a certainty- that you’d be an amazing housewife. he invites you to stick around for a drink since you’re already there anyway, and of course you accept since you’d be “downright ridiculous” if you didn’t!

🏡 after you fill him in on the neighborhood drama he missed over some scotch (he is loving your intel collection skills, by the way), he reaches for his wallet to get you some cash for all the trouble- this man was really about to give you a wad of hundreds for your menial house chores! unbelievable! you immediately shoo it away, insisting that it really was no big deal… well, now you’ve left him stumped, because how else could he ever show his appreciation for your hard work while he was away??

🏡 by eating your pussy, of course! it takes very little resistance on both your ends until you’re sprawled out on his luxuriously soft bed with his head between your thighs, moaning and mewling so loud from the perfect licks and swirls on your aching, needy clit that his front door camera can practically pick up on your noises :’) your slick is getting all over his satiny sheets, but he doesn’t even pay that any mind. a few sharp sucks to your sensitive bundle of nerves and the scratch of his light blond stubble along your inner thighs has you cumming so hard that you can’t help but chant his name- and he’ll be damned if that isn’t music to his ears! <3

🏡 he still doesn’t feel like he’s fully shown you his appreciation…maybe he needs to fuck the shit out of you too! he’s talking to you so nicely as he stretches your pulsing walls with his huge, veiny cock, reassuring you that you’re “such a good girl,” “lookin’ so gorgeous right now,” “takin’ me like a champ, baby.”… you’ve never felt so full, yet somehow you can’t get enough of him :( he decides to place a silky pillow under your hips so he can pummel into you from a deeper angle, and he leaves all kinds of purply marks along your chest as he tells you just how perfect your pussy is for him- god, he’s happy you moved here!

🏡 by now you’ve lost count of how many times you’ve orgasmed around his length, and he finally coats your insides with his warm, thick spurts of cum as he groans your name. you both collapse onto his sheets, exhaustedly drifting to sleep just to do it all over again in the morning ;) he gets a hot shower ready for the both of you before kindly requesting some of your amazing baking- he even offers you to wear one of his t-shirts so you don’t get any ingredients on your own clothes! of course, you’re more than happy to oblige. after all, he’s such a friendly neighbor <3

[puck-luck]

Hello Andy!! May I please get a cappuccino with peppermint* and cold foam** for Matt Boldy?

*Friends with benefits

**“Oh, you’re such a tease!” or something similar I'm not picky

will do, buddy! hope you enjoy! sorry for your loss. i'm pretty sure your bracket is still at the top of our league though (which i am not jealous of... at all...)

“Okay, I’ve only got an hour, so we’ve gotta be quick,” Matt tells you as he lets himself into your apartment with his key. “I’ve got some stuff to do at the rink for the end of the season, but I wanted to swing by first.”

“Wow, lucky me,” you reply. Though he hadn’t texted you that he was coming over, you’re not surprised to see him. Matt used to come over all the time when you were just friends, enough to warrant the printing of an extra key just for him. He had complained about driving over here for nothing one too many times when you weren’t home, and though you reminded him that he could just check your location before coming over, he got the key anyway. It was just easier to hand it off and expect to have company in your apartment when you get home.

Matt probably spends more time in your apartment than he does his own, especially during hockey season. His apartment might be nicer, but yours has a better route to the rink than his does. It’s basically a straight shot, whereas he has to take turns. It’s a silly reason, but you’ve made peace with the fact that Matt actually wants to spend time with you and he’s making excuses. 

“Don’t be difficult, this is the ‘benefits’ part of friends with benefits,” Matt says. He’s kicking off his shoes messily and striding towards your couch, which is where you’d been sitting before Matt rushed into your apartment like a tornado. 

You’ve sat up to meet him when he reaches the couch, ready to swing a leg over his lap and straddle him, but Matt crashes into you and pushes you flat against the cushions. His tongue finds its way into your mouth almost immediately, body weaseling its way between your legs so that he can grind against your core. He swallows your retort with enthusiastic kiss after enthusiastic kiss.

The benefits thing is still pretty new for you both, just to the point that you’re both still very into it and neither of you have developed further feelings, as friends with benefits relationships often do. You hang out, you hook up, and everything is fine.

He undresses you quickly, his bare fingertips feeling like licks of fire against your body. The physical sensations haven’t faded or dimmed at all since you’ve been hooking up with Matt. In fact, you feel like they’ve only intensified.

Once you’re both naked, Matt licks over your body at an unhurried pace. For a man who burst into your living room and declared that he only had an hour, he’s acting like he has all the time in the world. He sucks on your nipples, lavishing them with attention. His eyelashes flutter as his eyelids fall shut, pleasured hums emanating quietly from his body. If not for the way your body reacts to the vibrations, you would think you were hearing things. 

He makes his way down between your legs, tongue tracing your folds and teasing your clit. He has no urgency, like you’d acknowledged before, and it’s bothering you. Matt has been traveling extra because of the playoffs, super focused on that and performing very well you might add, but you haven’t gotten laid in the meantime. So now, with him saying he’s only got so long but dilly-dallying, you feel justified in berating him. 

“Are you going to get down and dirty with it or are you going to keep teasing me?” you demand, running your fingers through Matt’s hair and pushing it out of his face.

He looks up at you and mocks your tone, not saying any actual words but choosing to make “womp-womp” noises like the parents in Charlie Brown. He then puts his attention back on your cunt, licking a stripe up your slit before he answers you. “Don’t know,” he says conversationally, as if his mouth isn’t poised right before your entrance. “Time’s it?”

You look at the clock on your bookshelf. “Almost noon.”

Matt freezes. “Oh, shit, I gotta go.” He scrambles back onto his heels, then leaves the couch entirely. Your legs are still spread and your pussy is wet, yet neglected due to the way Matt has launched himself from your living room. His departure perfectly reflects his entrance into your apartment.

You push yourself up on your elbows and stare at him, jaw dropped. “Matthew,” you demand. “You are not being serious right now. You’re not leaving in the middle of this.”

“Gotta,” he says with a shrug, pulling his shirt over his head. “We’re doing a lunch for Flower and then cleaning out lockers. Exit interviews. You know, that sort of thing. It’s mandatory.”

“You fucking tease,” you accuse in an affronted voice. When he turns to find his shoes, you repeat his name, more serious and louder than before. You throw in his middle name for good measure. “Matthew Edward Boldy.”

He looks at you, an expression full of apologetic ‘no-room-for-argument’ on his face. He holds his shoes in one hand, pointing at you with the other. “I’ll be back later.”

“I’m going to change the locks.”

“No you’re not. I’ll be back later.” He backs out of the apartment and locks the door behind him, still shoeless as he exits, and you’re left sexually frustrated on your own damn couch.

[elect1z]

..My Hero!..

Knuckles x Weak!Reader

cw: Fluff and silly stuff!

★ Knuckles sees you as a friend that needs protection, because of your, weak strength and softness. But later on, he started to like you after some time observing you. ★ When you and the others are on a mission, you don't really do anything to the machines other than leaving those things a few scratches. You are weak, but your determination remains strong. ★ He like that about you. So, he was feeling generous and offered training with him. It got you smiling since you always admire his strength and bravery ( and that silly brain of his ) ★ The training was rough, you didn't even land a hit on him! it's getting annoying that you didn't do anything. You recklessly swing around your weapon, making you trip on your toes and fall in front of him. Knuckles sighed and helped you get back on your feet. ★ The training continues for a few days with you not landing a hit on him. One day while training, you saw an opening and swung your weapon right away, hitting him at his side. Both of your eyes immediately lit up with joy and laughing in excitement. ★ Afterwards, he rewarded you by treating you both with chili dogs. You sat at the edge of the cliff staring at the view of the ocean and the sunset behind it. Later Knuckles appeared behind you with the chili dogs, he handed yours and sat beside you. " ..Uh.. Thank you, Knuckles.. for doing this for me..." " No problem little one! You had a very strong determination that no one could defeat. You just need training for it to be put to good use." "...Heh.. Thanks again.. I don't know what I would do without you" ★ Not long after you both were accompanied by silence and warmth that emits from you two. " Your my hero.."

A/N: I love knuckles, he is such a spirit animal <3