#Icon Button Flutter

[kxsagi]

hiii! how r you? i like your writings so much<3 can you do this one where the reader is the pilot/captain of the plane the bllk boys are flying on?

“𝟏𝟎-𝟒, 𝐜𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐚𝐢𝐧 𝐠𝐢𝐫𝐥𝐟𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝 𝐨𝐮𝐭”

a/n: i'm good and i hope you are too! thank you so much!!!

ngl this request idea reminded me of that one caleb tik tok edit audio where he’s like “10-4, captain caleb out” with take my breath away playing (hence the titel)

ft. itoshi rin, isagi yoichi, mikage reo, nagi seishiro, hyoma chigiri, kaiser michael, bachira meguru, itoshi sae, shidou ryusei

itoshi rin

he’s dead silent the entire boarding process. headphones in. hoodie up. classic. 

until he hears the pilot’s voice over the intercom and thinks: that sounds familiar… 

then you say your name and he just… freezes mid-scroll. no music. no breathing. no way. 

stares at the ceiling like it personally betrayed him. 

you’re flying this plane? oh gosh. he’s proud of you, of course, you’re amazing, he just didn’t mentally prepare for this. 

texts you: “we're not gonna die right” “i trust you but also i’m scared” “i love you btw” 

won’t admit he was nervous until like a week later. 

makes you a bento the day after to “thank you for keeping his ass alive.” 

isagi yoichi

literally gasps when he hears your voice on the speaker. 

beaming like a proud dad. keeps telling the flight attendants “that’s my girlfriend!!” like a loser. 

opens flight radar just to stare at the little plane icon and pretend he understands what’s going on. 

tries to peek into the cockpit before takeoff. gets caught. blushes. 

will not shut up about how ✨cool✨ and ✨smart✨ you are. 

“babe, you flew the plane! like? the actual PLANE???” 

asks you a million questions afterward like you’re a celebrity. 

makes it his phone wallpaper: you in your pilot uniform, looking all hot and composed. 

mikage reo

his reaction is immediate and dramatic: “no. way.” 

claps like he’s in the front row of a runway show. 

“i knew you were talented but babe this is HOT.” 

keeps bragging to everyone nearby. “i invested in this airline. emotionally, too.” 

calls his family during boarding just to say, “guess who’s flying my plane? MY GIRLFRIEND.” 

asks if he can get cockpit selfies with you after the flight. 

will try to buy the whole airline just to rename it after you. 

nagi seishiro

half asleep when you announce your name over the intercom. 

slowly opens one eye. stares at the speaker. groans. “so loud...” 

texts you: “you’re the pilot? that’s kinda sick” “wake me up if we crash” 

immediately falls back asleep. 

wakes up halfway through the flight, checks the sky outside the window and shrugs. “guess she’s good at this too.” 

kisses your cheek after landing and says, “good game.” 

gets weirdly obsessed with flight simulators after this. 

hyoma chigiri

jaw hits the floor. you’re the pilot? 

he’s in awe the whole time, even while trying to stay calm and collected. 

heart flutters when you say “this is your captain speaking.” 

he clutches his seat during turbulence but tells himself, “no, she’s got this. she’s amazing. she’s got this.” 

definitely brings you flowers the next time he sees you. 

insists on taking cute post-landing photos with you and says, “i want to show our future kids how badass their mom is.” 

kaiser michael

smirking immediately. 

“ah, so i am in good hands.” 

texts you: “i think i’m in love with my captain” “take me to the mile high club”

acts chill but is actually so turned on by how powerful and composed you sound. 

gets way too into the captain/flight attendant roleplay ideas afterward. 

flirts with the flight attendant just to make you jealous, until you purposely hit turbulence for one second and he shuts up. 

bachira meguru

screams. “THAT’S MY BABY!” 

literally runs down the aisle (the flight attendant has to stop him). 

flirty text: “can i press buttons in the cockpit? pretty please?” 

asks if he can wear your hat. 

draws you in a superhero cape later with the caption “CAPTAIN CUTIE” in all caps. 

you catch him narrating the flight to his seatmate like it’s a magical journey: “and now my beautiful girlfriend is taking us over the clouds…” 

itoshi sae

he does not react externally. at all. like he hears your voice and just blinks slowly. 

the most emotion he shows is a very subtle smirk and maybe a nose exhale. 

he already knew you were a pilot but didn’t expect to be on your flight. 

checks the flight info and texts you: “you better not crash. i have a commercial to film tomorrow.” then a second text: “jk” “don’t get distracted thinking about me.” 

wears a sleeping mask the whole time. 

but after landing, he purposely waits at the gate for you just to say in that dry, quiet voice: “smooth landing. you looked hot up there.” 

gives you a lil side hug like he’s not absolutely obsessed with you. 

shidou ryusei

deadass gets turned on the moment you say “this is your captain speaking.” 

full-on puts his hands over his mouth like he just saw a hot celebrity walk by. 

“no fucking way. MY GIRLFRIEND? THE PILOT? OH, I’M GONNA DIE SEXY.” 

immediately presses the call button and tries to bribe a flight attendant to let him in the cockpit. 

texts you: “hey baby wanna join me in the air tonight 🤭” “you can land on me later” 

gets way too excited during turbulence. “IS SHE TESTING ME?” 

when the plane lands smoothly he claps obnoxiously and yells “THAT’S MY GIRL!!” from row 12A. 

calls you “captain mommy” for the next week and you have to threaten to ground him. 

© 𝐤𝐱𝐬𝐚𝐠𝐢

[sinsofnivan]

hey can i have smut with old chris he's so hot I can't😭😭😭I luv ur acc

neighbours with benefits. — CHRIS REDFIELD x YOU! — SMUT!

divider gif belongs to kdanie.

SUMMARY: chris has a crush on his new neighbour.

TAGS: fem bodied reader, older man/younger woman, ( chris is in his 40's, y/n in her 20's ), size difference, pussy eater chris redfield BOOM SHAKALAKA YES GODDDD, creampies, unprotected sex, overstim, y/n is such a slutty diva here what an icon

PAIRING: CHRIS REDFIELD/you.

A/N: alexa play older by isabel larosa

NSFW UNDER THE CUT!

he was in denial, at first. chris blamed it on biology. that men were just immediately drawn to pretty things. that it's just the excitement of having a new neighbour. that the fluttering in his stomach was nothing.

but he found himself looking for you every morning when you weren't out for your run or peeking out his window to see if he'd catch you relaxing on your porch. and when you would greet him, he'd feel immense joy pooling in his stomach. ugh, he feels like a highschooler. he had scars older than you, for christ's sake—and that was probably the only thing that stopped him from shooting his shot.

but you? you were persistent. temptation herself.

coming over to his place and generously giving away the excess stew you made; the serpent disguised so adam can bite the forbidden fruit.

you were supposed to just put away the casserole in the kitchen, supposed to leave after. but here you were. on his lap, and caressing his built chest while you kissed his neck.

"y/n—,"

chris doesn't possess the strength to push you off. not when your ass was in his hands. "y/n, please—," he huffed, and you finally withdraw from him. "don't you want me, mister redfield?" you cooed in his ear.

"just say you don't want me, and i'll stop,"

"we shouldn't, y/n,"

chris could feel goosebumps rise from his skin as your tongue dragged over the shell of his ear. "but you want to?" yes, he fucking does. "i'm twice your age, sweetheart—," "i don't care," and the hips grinding against the outline of his cock proved it. he wanted to resist you. but he can't. and with a mere blink, you were pinned under him. “you should. you should, y/n, fuck—,” your knee grinds against his hard-on, and chris realizes that you’ll keep testing him ‘till he breaks.

“we really shouldn’t be doin’ this,”

“if we shouldn’t, why are you hard? why’re you on top of me?”

fuck you and your smart mouth. he wants nothing more than to just—

“mpf!”

you grunt when he begins devouring your lips. he could taste the fruit-flavoured gloss you wore, and it’s better than he could ever imagine. you had no complaints, definitely, wrapping your arms around him as you reciprocated his movements; tongue gliding over his own, letting teeth clash against teeth.

chris can only control himself so much. your blouse was practically ripped open, a few buttons flying and falling on the cold ground. of course you had no bra—nipples rousing ‘neath his calloused palm. was he dreaming? was he actually groping you? he’d cry if he wasn’t.

it escalated faster than he thought, because soon, he finds himself discarding his shirt—along with your blouse—and tossing it recklessly on the floors. your fingers playfully tug on his raven tresses as his kisses slowly traveled down. "mhh . . fuck, m, mister redfield," he groaned, nipples gently toyed with by pearls. "chris. call me chris," he muttered before wrapping his lips around the bud; the other being twisted 'nd pulled by his spare hand.

"chriiiisss—fuck," you bite on your lower lip, watching him lather you with his affectionate kisses. the graze of his stubble stung a little—not like you cared—as his tongue traced your areola. you've been fantasizing over this for ages, fuck, you needed him like air.

he switches over to the other, not wanting to leave it neglected 'nd starved from attention. tongue swirling the sensitive bud and suckling on it; his hazel gaze flickers over to you every so often, trying to see your pretty face and addictive reactions.

he savoured every bit of it. mmh. you whined when you feel him grip your waist with his strong, big hand; forcing you to stay still as he began to kiss his way down to your navel, to your . .

"hips up,"

"or what?"

you shrieked when your shorts were forcefully torn off your frame. chris has had enough, he needs your cunt on his fucking mouth. your cotton panties are recklessly pushed to the side as chris impatiently delves into your pussy tongue first.

he groaned, brows furrowing as he finally tasted you. you tasted so, so, good. "oh, fuck," chris moaned with a mouthful of your creamy cunt. "chris," you shamelessly roll your hips, grinding that needy pussy all over his stubbled face. you'd mewl everytime your nose bumped against his nose.

and fuuck, you're so fucking wet. soaked. chris saw how that string of arousal clung onto your panties. all for him? just from seducing and kissing him? chris rewards you with a lap of his tongue, flicking again 'n again over that sensitive bud. he's torn between letting his eyes roll as he savoured your taste, or watch you while he ruined you with just his tongue.

"mmhhhm, baby," his big hands reach to grope your tits, and slowly transition to interlacing his fingers with yours. "tashte shoooo fhcking goood," he didn't care if it came out as gibberish, he just wanted to—

"fuck!"

your grip tightened as his wet muscle prods against your slit, desperate to explore you. "chrissss—fuck, your tongue . . " oh, how beautiful you were, especially when your back arched like that. his spit's everywhere, sticking to every bit of skin. well, who could blame him. you were mouthwatering.

and oh, those squeals when he started to suck on your clit, fuuuck.

it's a shame he has to let your hands go, grabbing the back of your legs and pushing it up and baring your cunt to him. "what're y—ooh!" you hold onto his hair, tugging so unkindly as he suckled on your bud. fuck, he looked so pussydrunk—was he even aware of what was going on? he jus' stared at you so affectionately, cheeks hollowing from how much attention he lavished your twitching clit.

"chriss—chriiiis, oh god, oh godohgodohgod,"

your legs rest right on his broad shoulders, and chris grinned in triumph when he feels it quiver, sliding two thick digits into your hole. "uhnnn—fuck, f, feels good," you whimpered, biting down harshly on your lip.

"i know," he's panting, breathless, and he's trying to catch his breath while licking that sensitive clit albeit sloppy; his fingers curling up as it pumped in and out of you. it was so easy to fingerfuck you like this, even without his spit. fuck, you were so wet.

whatever smart mouth you had earlier, you no longer have. the combination of his mouth 'nd fingers were deadly, because how could you form proper rebuttals when he's grazing that erogenous spot while his lips are wrapped around your clit.

"h, haaahhh . . oh my god, shiiit—!"

all that obscene squelching from your pussy, fuck. .

his shorts grow tighter 'n tighter by the minute. he fucking needs to bury himself deep in you, soon. or else he'd actually lose his mind. your screams grow louder as his fingers quicken, pumping into you with insatiable greed. he needs you to make a mess—to cum on his face, cover his face in all your juices.

"s, slow down—wait!" you sobbed, chest heaving as your orgasm neared. he doesn't listen—hell, he doesn't even listen to himself—and keeps slurping you up. you couldn't sit still, and chris has to grab your waist with his spare hand to keep you from squirming away from him.

"chris—♡! oh god, fuckfuckfuckk—'m cumming, oh my god,"

and oh, it's so, so good. actual fucking bliss. you're in heaven, eyes rolled back to your sockets and back nicely arching as you cum all over his mouth with a squeal of his name. chris groaned, drinking all of you. he didn't even care that you made a mess everywhere. you just tasted so, so good . .

"fuck—♡! you're still—, s, still movin' your fingers—?!"

of course he was! he was trying to milk every bit of your orgasm, drag it out 'til you were fucking spent. another brush of his tongue over your clit, and you're spritzing all over his mouth. twitching, shaking—especially when chris nurses that sensitive bud with affectionate kisses, trailing up to your inner thighs. "you're so delicious," he murmured, gently nipping on the tender skin. he rids your sodden panties, carelessly tossing them somewhere.

"'ve been fantasizing about you for so fucking long,” this wasn't a dream, no, not when he could feel the warmth of your skin under his lips, his hands . . not when he could feel your palms on his cheeks, guiding him back up to claim his lips into a fervent kiss.

you could taste yourself on him—how filthy. chris groaned, tongue dancing with yours. he could easily engulf your mouth, fuck. he likes just how you were easily out of breath. he was just twice your size. chris whines when you break the kiss, panting.

"fuck me. i need you inside me right now," you muttered, reaching over for the garter of his trousers. "take it off, baby," he whispered, kissing your neck. a soft giggle escapes as you toy with the waistband of his shorts. his cock springs out, and you couldn't help but stare.

"like what you see?" says the cocky bastard, nipping along your jawline. "will that fit?" "we'll make it fit, baby." he kisses your lips reassuringly, grabbing a hold of your legs and placing it on his built shoulders. with an outstretched arm, you wrap your fingers 'round his thickness and guided it to your pussy. oh, fuck. chris's balls twitch.

"kiss me," you plead, and chris presses his lips on yours without hesitation. it's much more fervent, but it just felt so, so right. you hummed, feeling his teeth graze your lower lip.

the kiss only breaks when he the tip slowly slides in. you gasp, but chris only took your lower brim in between his teeth, continuing to fill you with his fat cock. "yeah? feel that baby?" you squealed when he shoved the rest of his girth in, sheathing himself completely in you. fuck, you're so fucking full, his tip's pressed right against your cervix.

"been waitin' to fuck you," he continues to whisper, beginning slow but hard thrusts. he easily coaxed out these gorgeous, gorgeous whimpers from you. "to stretch this pretty pussy—oh, god," chris keeps bucking his hips, quickening his pace as the seconds go by.

every slam of his hips keeps filling you to the fucking brim, especially with the folded position you were in now, and god, you've never imagined someone could fuck you the way he was fucking you right now.

"chris—m, my god fuuuck, so full," you mewl, holding on to his arms for dear life as he starts to pound you. the whole couch's creaking from his brutal thrusts, but it's not like you can hear it through your erotic cries. "y'love my cock, right?" he purred, watching your face contort with pleasure, that mouth fall agape.

"yesyes—god, fuck!"

the way you moan like that—it just spurs chris's arousal on, encourages him to keep ramming into you over 'nd over again without mercy. "fuck, you're—so, s, so tight," even with proper prep—it’s not your fault he’s a fucking behemoth. everything about chris was huge, and you could feel every bump ‘n vein graze against your soft walls, tip bumping exactly where you need him.

and oh, you were seeing stars. brain completely filled with the thought of him. how could you think of something else, when chris fucking redfield was right atop you, rearranging your fucking guts? he could see it in your fucked out face—eyes rolled, completely stupefied—that you were ruined. no other man or toy would ever satisfy you like this again. he jus’ stretched you out so, so good . .

“oh god, y/n—♡,” his brows scrunch up. it’s no surprise he can’t control himself, rutting into you like an animal in heat, slamming into you again ‘n again even if his hips ached with exhaustion. he didn’t care. it was also no surprise that his orgasm was coming much quick—chris is just a man with needs, after all.

and oh, how delicious it was, imagining you stuffed full with cum. could those college boys fill you like he did? breed you like he would? never. spit’s leakin’ off the sides of his lips, and you’re just as filthy as him, licking it all up. “c, cum inside,” you beg. “cum inside me—,” chris is supposed to ask if you’re on the pill, if you’re on a safe day, but no—he jus’ keeps fucking you, keeps plowing that tight fucking cunt into the cushions.

you were begging for it, so you’ll fucking get it.

“gonna breed you, baby. fuuuck,” his cock twitches, aching to cum. he’s close, so, so close—and he has no strength to control that foul tongue. “this what you—you wanted? be bred by someone twice your age?” he growled. “my baby’s such’a—hnnn—such’a slut.” “i am—i aaam. jus’—jus’ for you!” aw, were you tightening around his fat dick? god, you’d be the death of him. chris whimpered, uncontrollably spilling thick, warm cum into you whilst his hips rolled. you’re leaking lots, and he can barely think. you had these wide, doe eyes, feeling his load flood you.

“baby—y/n, cum. please cum,” he begged, continuing on fucking you despite his cock throbbing with overstimulation. you were close—he jus’ needed to fuck you faster. “‘m close. ‘m close, chris,” you kept your eyes on him. “g, go faster—,” you say, and chris swallowed, pushing through the mind-numbing sensitivity. his pace quickens, just like you requested; and he’s completely fucked stupid, babbling desperate pleas, begging you to cum because it hurts. he’s so—

“s, sensitive, y, y/n . . m, my cock—,”

with another rough slam of his hips, you’re fucking gushing; unable to say anything rational. “chris—uhhnn, fuck!” you whimpered, squirting with every push in of his hips. fuck, it was such a mess.

and chris’s thrusts finally come to a halt. he’s catching his breath, and so were you. it takes a minute or two to at least gain some awareness, and you’re just realizing now that you can barely feel your legs. “y/n,” chris whispers. “are you . . are you okay?” he asked, cupping your cheek. “‘m fine,” you mutter weakly. “‘m gonna—gonna pull out now,” you whine when he retires from your folded figure, settling on his knees. you look so pretty sprawled for him like this. y’don’t even lower your legs, keepin’ ‘em spread without him telling you to.

you both shudder when he slowly slips his cock out from your creampied pussy. his dark eyes can’t look away, watching that gaping cunt ooze with his cum. oh, god . . he runs a thumb over your perineum, trying to not waste the load spilling from you.

“i don’t think my legs are working,” you groaned, and it’s only when his gaze shifts to your mien. “it’s okay,” he whispered, reaching over for your ankle and slowly lowering it ‘til it was nicely resting on the couch.

“let’s get you up to my room,”

“mmm . . ”

and it seems like chris’s legs weren’t working, either; almost stumbling but thankfully didn’t. he prays you didn’t notice, but you seemed too tired. “i’ll carry you, okay?” chris says, and you only nod. with one swift movement, you’re in his built arms, burying your face in his muscular chest.

“chris?” “mhm?” “this . . isn’t a one-time thing, right?” he smiled, watching your pretty face. “of course not.” there was no way in hell he’d fumble you, lose you.

end.

this is how chris kisses. sorry, i don't make the rules.

[cvnntagious]

𝐝𝐢𝐞 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐦𝐞

☆ fuckboy!matt sturniolo blurb for anon...

Not that you cared, but Matt had been M.I.A for over a week now. He hadn't been in class, hadn't texted you, and you hadn't seen him in his usual hangout spots around campus. Not that you'd bothered to check.

Well, okay, you shouldn't have checked — But you did. Not because you cared. I mean, he didn't care, so why would you? You'd been looking for him because, for some reason, your professor had decided to hand over his work to you. It didn't seem like he knew where Matt had gone either.

You didn't really understand what this had to do with you. The professor had just told you to give it to Matt whenever you got the chance. What, did he think you and Matt were something? Because you're not. That's not what Matt wanted, and neither did you.

But as your grades began to slip, it was clear Matt was on your mind. For no reason, really. Like, you didn't like him or anything. Seriously, you didn't like him. Usually, with the help of Matt, you would've been able to de-stress by now. Even touching yourself was no good. His help had been keeping you steady for the semester, and without it, you were nothing academically. At least that's what you told yourself.

Today 10:22 PM : ' Hey sorry. Been a minute. '

That's what you saw pop up on your phone as you tried to focus on studying for the upcoming quiz. You knew who it was before you even read the contact at the top of the notification — that unreadable way of texting, topped with an annoying amount of periods, just like always. He said it'd been a minute, but it had only seemed like seconds since you last talked at that moment. You were already annoyed.

Texting back seemed like no use, brushing it off with a sigh that exuded not only irritation, but a hint of relief as well. At least now you knew he hadn't gotten himself into some shit. Not that getting into shit was much like him, it was more his brother's thing. But still, he tended to stick his nose where it didn't belong when it came to any problems Chris got into.

Today 10:25 PM : ' Come slide. Dorm's P17. '

You tried to ignore it, but the numbers caught your attention. Could he really want you this bad? Usually he'd come to your dorm, or on some rare occasions you'd meet him at Chris' frat. Never once had he bothered to give you his dorm number. This felt new, possibly refreshing. He'd always told you where he stayed wasn't necessary information— basically the nice way of saying he didn't take you seriously, nor trust you enough.

Though tempting, your better judgement told you not to give in so easily. As you held down the power button and slid the icon to power off before flipping your phone face down, you felt a certain sense of empowerment, proud of yourself for deciding it wasn't worth it. So why did you find yourself waiting for him to answer the door, fidgeting nervously as you looked at the short brown carpet of the dormitory hallway?

"Didn't even get a warning," You heard his voice as the door opened in front of you, causing you to look up at him.

With an embarrassed chuckle, you lifted your hand to show him the black screen of your phone. "It died," You lied, eyelashes fluttering as your eyes met his blue ones.

You watched his small smile as his tongue ran over his white teeth to hide it, invisalign making them chunky and, in some strange way, admirable. Then, he stepped aside, giving you room to walk into his doorway. "S'late, I know, but I just- like I said, its been a while," Matt began explaining as you walked into his dorm, leaning on the doorframe as his head followed you.

You turned to look at him after having taken in his dorm, rather unimpressed by the lack of personality. "Yeah, about that, actually— Where y'been?" You asked curiously, as he shut and locked the door behind him.

Matt only shrugged, suppressing a smirk as he took a step forward to let his hands travel down your waist. "Lot'a stuff," He replied simply, head cocking slightly to one side. Of course he wasn't going to tell you - he never told you anything. "S'a lot to handle, y'know," He then added, eyes darkening as they held contact with yours.

Your brows furrowed at his words, a bit confused. If he didn't want to tell you why he was gone straight up, you'd prefer if he didn't start hinting at stuff. "What is?" You breathed out, hands moving to rest on his forearms as you unknowingly caught his bait.

"Not being able to see you every day; To touch you every day." He said that as if it were the most obvious thing in the world, his head dipping to place open mouthed kisses on the sensitive skin of your neck. "To call you mine," He then whispered. You knew it were dumb to think he meant that, but for some reason, those four words made you want to give yourself to him completely.

Matt smiled for the first time since you'd walked in when you pulled back to admire his face, letting out a small hum when you leaned back into him to press your lips against his. Just like that, he walked you backwards towards his bed, hands slipping under your shirt to caress the soft skin of your stomach. The coldness of his silver rings caused you to hiss into the kiss, too distracted by the sensation to notice him turning you so that he was now with his back to his bed.

As he sat down on his bed, he pulled you down to straddle him, hands holding your waist. You looked down at his glossy blue eyes as your hands reached up to knock his hat off of his head, fingers threading through his brunette curls. "What d'you want, Matt?" You finally asked, one hand coming down to allow your finger to caress the underside of his chin as he looked up at you.

His hands traveled up your figure, lifting your shirt as he did so. He allowed his hands to rest on your boobs, kneeding them as he chuckled ever so quietly. "To not have to do the work this time," He answered in a teasing tone, eyes flickering down to look at where his hands worked.

Though reluctant, you lifted yourself off of his lap to hoover over it. Using one hand to stabilize yourself on his shoulder, your free hand made its way down to his belt buckle as he watched your every move intently, "Don't look so happy," You mused when your eyes had glanced up to see the excitement in his.

"You know I love this shit," He quipped as you pulled his belt through the loops, lifting himself just enough for you to pull his pants down to his thighs. You only had so long to admire all you could see through his boxers before you felt Matt tugging on your pants, pleading without words for you to take them off.

Again, you lifted yourself off of him, this time allowing him to unbutton your pants and shimmy them down your legs until they were discarded somewhere beside his bed. As he fiddled with your pants, your hand began palming him through his boxers, length already riled up from not being touched much longer than he was used to. He groaned as his eyes remained locked on yours, a wet patch turning a spot of his boxers a darker shade of gray.

After a bit of teasing, you decided it was time to finally get your eyes on the prize—his prize. Pulling it out of his boxers, you ran your hand along his shaft to feel it rock hard already. "So big," You muttered, eyes glued to it.

Matt couldn't help the chuckle that escaped his lips at your words, expression smug as it could be. "This's new news?" He asked playfully, a stark contrast to his usual cold behaviors. It was like he really came out of his shell when he was aroused, and you were ready to put him right back in it.

With a squeeze of his dick that caused him to grunt, you pulled your panties to the side and lined him up with your entrance. Matt looked enthralled as he watched you do your work like this were routine, hands leaving your hips to rest behind him, leaning back to tilt his head back when you sunk down onto him without warning.

His hair was messy, and he could feel he was ready to sweat with your gummy walls around him. Lips pursing together, he hummed as you began to slowly grind into him, letting you do the work, just like he said he wanted.

It wasn't long before you began bouncing on him, hands on his shoulders for stability as you let out choked moans, as if his cock were suffocating you. The quick pace had your thighs burning, struggling to keep up with it, and yet, Matt simply watched in enjoyment. It wasn't often he allowed himself to freely make noise, but you could tell he was really enjoying this, with the way he had let out more groans and pants than usual.

Seemingly out of nowhere, his hands dartted out to grip the flesh of your hips as you continued your motions. You could've swore you heard a whimper when his head dropped forward to lean on the front of your shoulder. "Fu–ck this," He drawled out to you, hips begining to meet yours as he chase his high.

This simple, not so innocent gesture only served to fuel you, completely forgetting about the burning sensation. Your bounces got bigger, lifting yourself all the way to his tip before dropping back onto him with shreik-like moans. Matt was loving this, pants and groans now following each motion on his painfully ready cock.

"K- keep goin' f'me, baby, m'gettin close," He rasped, forcing himself to lift his head from your shoulder so he could look in your eyes while he came.

You nodded, bouncing mixing with grinding as you tried to tell him you were close too. It was too late. You let out a loud moan as you snapped on top of him, Matt following suit at the feeling of your sticky liquid releasing all over his dick. Your movements slowed to ride out your guys' orgasms before eventually coming to a halt, both of you panting with each other.

"Le's, uh— We'll do that more often, yeah?"

○

"come on over, baby, can you slide for me? yeah / you know how i love it when you ride on me." -chase atlantic

w/c : 1.8k a/n : if you've sent in any anons, i promise i'm getting to them. it's taking me a while cs i take forever to write and now i'm super busy so please bare w me, these anons have been building up for months now...

-love, your grandma cvnty ☆!

[locomoqo]

i just binge read almost everything of your work man it so scrumptious 😔😔 do you mind if i request dg/james lee fluff if youre available to write rn :DD feel free to do whatever im fine with any dg crumbs 🧎‍♀️

photographs

— diego kang x reader

details: established relationship, fluff

A/N: pink hair dg will always stay iconic

You hold the instax, examining it with curiosity and excitement. "I’ve always wanted to try one of these," you say, smiling as Diego watches you. His usual composed expression softens as he observes you fumbling with the buttons, snapping quick, playful shots around the room.

Diego leans back on the couch, a faint smile tugging at his lips as he watches you examine the camera. "Figured you'd like it," he says, his voice warm and easy.

“Smile!” you announce, pointing the camera at him. Without missing a beat, he obliges, striking a casual pose with a wink that has you grinning as the photo spits out.

“Alright, alright, enough of me,” Diego chuckles, leaning forward and gently plucking the camera from your hands. “Your turn.”

You scrunch your nose and shake your head, feigning protest. “Nuh-uh, I’m not photogenic.”

"That's nonsense," he replies, his fingers lightly tilting your chin so you’re looking straight at him. He lifts the camera, positioning it with such focus that it feels like he’s seeing you in a way no one else does. He studies the lighting, ensuring it frames you just right. "Okay, smile for me."

You give in, managing a small, hesitant grin, but halfway through, you burst out laughing, embarrassed by how silly you feel. Right at that moment, Diego snaps the picture. The camera whirs, and you wait as the polaroid develops, a bit self-conscious. “See?” you insist, laughing nervously. "I probably look ridiculous—”

You pause, your words caught in your throat when you notice his expression. Diego’s eyes are glued to the photo, his usual calm demeanor softened, his lips parted just slightly, as if he’s momentarily stunned.

“What?” you ask, suddenly feeling shy under his gaze. “Is it that bad?”

For a moment, he doesn’t answer, his thumb grazing the edges of the photo as he stares at it. Then he looks up at you, his expression full of a quiet fondness that makes your heart flutter. "Ridiculous?" he echoes, as if the thought itself is absurd. “Nah. You look like an angel.”

Heat rises to your cheeks, and you find yourself fidgeting, your fingers toying with the hem of your shirt as you try to brush it off. "You’re lying," you say, but the warmth in his gaze makes your pulse quicken.

Diego steps closer, his smile soft but persistent. "Am I?" he murmurs,  "See for yourself." he held the polaroid in front of you. When you glance at the photo, you barely recognize yourself. He managed to capture you mid-laughter, the light in your eyes bright and candid, a natural happiness that makes the image feel special. Even… beautiful.

Lost in your thoughts, you don’t notice him watching you with a grin until he leans in, his face just inches from yours, his breath tickling your ear. "You know," he murmurs, a playful spark in his eyes, "I’ve got a few ideas for some more… memorable shots." He tilts his head, smirking. "But for those," he adds, his voice dropping to a teasing whisper, "we might need… less clothing."

Your eyes widen, and you swat him on the shoulder with a mock gasp. "Diego!"

He chuckles, shrugging in a mock display of innocence, but the glint in his eyes betrays his amusement. "What?" he laughs, a rich, unrestrained sound that makes your heart skip a beat. "I'm just saying—artistic photos, something to really remember this by."

You shake your head, laughing at his antics, but your heart swells at the way he looks at you, like he sees something in you no one else does. You both settle back on the couch, and he slips an arm around your shoulder, drawing you close as you hold the photo in your hand, feeling more special than you ever thought a picture could make you feel.

"Maybe next time," you say, grinning up at him, and he chuckles, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead.

"Next time," he agrees, his voice a gentle murmur.

[dearlazerbunny]

hii! idk if you take requests anymore but i js wanted to tell you i loved your if when then fic and wanted to request hcs for kyoya with a reader of average size that struggles with undereating and bad body image and dysmorphia? hope you’re doing well x

Sooooooo I missed the headcanon request and wrote a whole thing... apologies. Glad you liked if/when/then, it's probably one of my favorites :)

.....

Nothing fits. Not a single fucking scrap of clothing on earth will fit properly, which statistically seems impossible, but here you are standing in the mirror with fifteen plus discarded outfits flung across the room and the mirror that’s as tall as the ceiling mocking you because nothing. Fucking. Fits.

This is exhausting. And the night hasn’t even started.

You glance at the clock, and then your phone, ignoring all the group chats pinging off about the school dance you’re supposed to be attending tonight- everyone is sharing advice on makeup and hair, lamenting their new shoes are giving them blisters, arguing about who is going to dance with who first. The Host chat also has the same pre-event whirlwind that happens before just about any time the group gets together: the twins sending stupid memes, Tamaki screeching about last minute details, Honey wondering what flavor of cake to eat first, and Haruhi admonishing everyone for running late (also per usual). Every so often Mori’s icon will float in and out as he lurks among the chaos.

You go back to staring in the mirror, trying very hard not to throw yourself off the nearest available balcony. The Ootori estate has plenty of them, that’s for sure. You can take your pick of which ornamental piece of architecture would be best for dramatic effect.

There’s a quiet knock on the door, three taps made by the back of two long, slender fingers that you’d recognize anywhere. “Y/N? May I come in?”

“One second!” There’s a robe around here somewhere. Silk and chiffon and ruffled lace get shoved aside as you drape it over you, tying the waist ribbon just a smidge too tight for comfort. It digs into the skin of your stomach, rubs up against your bottom ribs just enough to hurt, but you can’t bring yourself to redo the knot. Once you’re covered, you unlock the door. “I’m good.”

Kyoya strides into the room already dressed, looking resplendent in a well-tailored suit and shoes that click ever-so-subtly against the floors. His tie is loose though, and his cuffs not yet buttoned, which makes you smile. No one ever gets to see him less than perfectly put together. That’s reserved just for you. “Tell me why I go to the trouble of planning these events to start at the same time every time, and yet everyone decides they must scramble at the last minute anyways.”

“Hmmm.” You pretend to look puzzled. “Two options. One, because no one appreciates your genius and brilliant event planning skills; two, because half your friend group are scatterbrained hyperactive teenage boys that are barely on time even with Haruhi kicking them in the ass?”

He smirks. “Clearly the answer is both.” He holds an arm out as an invitation and you take it, staunchly ignoring the flutters of unsettledness in your stomach as he wraps you into a hug from behind. He’s taller than you and can comfortably rest his chin on the top of your head. Him in his finery and you in your hair, makeup, and frumpy robe make a strange picture. “Are you almost ready? The car will be here shortly.” One of his arms stays around you while another reaches to gently trace a jeweled earring that’s shimmering in the low light. “You look beautiful,” he murmurs into your hair, and the compliment that normally gives you warm fuzzies does nothing but make things worse.

You give him a very fake smile, but it’s currently the best you can do. “Almost. Just- can’t decide what to wear. Too many options!” The laugh that comes out of you is absolutely pitiful and an octave higher than your normal voice. You pray he doesn’t notice.

“I thought you’d decided on this one?” A scarlet gown with a simple empire waist silhouette, some pleating along the bust, and two delicate straps that tie into bows and leave a gauzy, ethereal train of tulle draped down your back. It’s very Brigerton, Haruhi had mentioned in passing, and you were so excited she’d finally started watching the show (you’d been begging her for months!) you almost tackled her in the hallway wanting to discuss every detail. It's a good memory. You’d been so excited to wear it tonight. He pulls it from the haphazard pile of fabric and lays it out so the skirt drapes over the edge of the bed.

 “I did. Thought I’d changed my mind…” you gesture to the dozen or so other gowns you’d pulled from various places. “I don’t know. Just…” you shrug, trying not to let your anxiety radiate into the room.

“Perhaps we just change the night’s theme?” His smile is light, teasing. “I’m sure showing up in our robes and slippers we’d certainly be the talk of the night.” It’s a joke. He’s joking. He’s kidding. And how could he know that the thought of any of these dresses even touching you makes you want to crawl out of your skin, or that your two layers of shapewear feel impossibly tight, or that the thought of anyone even looking at you in anything but a sweatshirt the size of Mori makes you want to scream? To your horror, tears start to form in the corners of your eyes, and you turn away, hands flying to your face. “I- Y/N? Are you alright? Are you hurt? What-”

“Stop, stop, please, I can’t-” you look up towards the ceiling, blinking rapidly, fingers under your lower lashes to catch the makeup threatening to run down your face. “Just stop. I’m fine. I just- need a second.”

He’d gone to reach for you but stops short. Hesitating. It takes an embarrassingly long time to get yourself under control, and quite a few more deep breaths that you’re hyper aware he’s probably counting. You’re fine. You’re fine. Pull it together for god’s sake, this is pathetic. Just put on a fucking dress and deal. You’re so lost in your own head that his hand brushing against your elbow makes you jump as though he’s frightened you. “Y/N. What’s wrong?”

“It’s stupid. It’s really stupid, okay? And it’s usually fine and I can just ignore it but tonight it’s just really bad and I know we have to go to this freaking dance and I really don’t want to but just give me a second and I’ll put something on and we can go-” You have to practically gasp for air, swaying as the headache behind your temples pounds harder, and his hands go from your elbow to gripping both of your forearms to steady you. Ever so gently, he moves you to sit on the bed, ignoring your near panic attack with grace. He’s looking at you with such solemn eyes it makes you want to cry more. “Kyoya I swear I’m good, okay? I’m fine. We’re going to be late.”

“We will arrive exactly when we need to.” He sits next to you, making sure he’s close enough to reach if you want him, but not touching you in case you don’t. “What have you eaten today? The schedule has been hectic, I know.”

“No,” you mumble, knowing it’s not the right answer. “Because if I ate anything I was going to get bloated and then they’d fit even worse.”

“Do the gowns not fit? That’s easily fixed.” He goes into planning mode, pushing his glasses up further onto the bridge of his nose. “We’ll have something delivered. We have several designers on call- would you prefer something similar to these? Or a different style entirely?”

“They fit. I mean, they zip and everything. They just don’t- look good.” The tears want to make a comeback. “They don’t look good on me. I don’t look good. Okay?”

“Darling. I am certain that’s not true.”

“Well, thanks, but you’re not exactly an unbiased opinion now are you?”

“Y/N-”

You rip the red dress off the bed and hold it up over yourself like you’re playing dress up with someone else’s clothes. “I look bad, Kyoya! My chest is weird and my arms look fat and the color practically screams ‘look at me, here I am, everyone please judge every single little bit of me!’” You close your eyes so you don’t have to look at him and grip the dress so hard you’re definitely leaving wrinkles, but it keeps your fingers from clawing their way against your stomach in frustration. “When you dance, everyone watches, because of course they do, but that means when I dance with you they’re going to see everything that’s wrong and I just can’t- I can’t do it, okay? I can’t.”

Kyoya takes the dress from you, loosening your fingers until they can grip him instead of satin. His hands are cool, fingers woven tight between yours, and you can’t bear to look at him after what you’ve just admitted. “How long have you felt like this?” His voice is so, so soft.

“I mean- usually? Always?” You shake your head. “Usually it’s manageable and I can just not think about it, but sometimes it gets- bad.” You laugh a little, and it’s thick, like it doesn’t want to leave your chest. “Of course it’s always when it’s least convenient.”

“I love you.” You focus on his fingers, his grip, not loosening for a second, matching your energy.

“I know. I wish that helped.”

“Come here.” He pulls you forward, him perched on the foot of the bed and you standing in front of him. Those same cool fingers wipe your face, the pad of his thumb brushing your cheekbones. “You do not need to go tonight, if it’s causing you this much distress. The club can survive without you for one night, I assure you.”

There’s a little bit of warmth in his voice, and that manages to soothe just a hint of the storm raging in your chest. “And be jealous of all the pretty girls who get to have a song with you? I don’t like that option either.” You smile at him, just a little though it’s tinged with sadness and lingering frustration. “No matter what, I’m miserable.”

You both pause there for a moment, quiet, and in the stillness the situation and your emotions settle into something slightly more manageable. Still simmering, still present, but less threatening. How he does it, you don’t know, but something about him just… helps. It always does. You count his breaths with the slight rustle of his collared shirt, focus on the way he soothes you with a hand on your arm. You breathe with him. You let your shoulders relax, just a bit, then force them to relax a little more.

“Dances mean nothing when they aren’t with you. But you know that.”

You huff, but have to smile at him. A real one this time. “The entirety of Ouran Academy is devastated.”

He picks up the dress from where it was discarded to the side. Smooths the skirt, untangles the straps. Slides the zipper down. “May I?” You hesitate for a second. Then two. He doesn’t push you, and you know he wouldn’t blame you at all if you said no. But instead you untie the robe, shrugging it off. The shapewear covers you fully, but he still averts his gaze as he helps you step into the garment and pull it up onto your body. The zipper doesn’t hesitate and glides up your back, then hooks securely at the top. Kyoya ties the straps into bows, adjusting them to your liking, before leading you to the mirror once again.

The dress really is a pretty color. You’d chosen it partially because it would look good with his suit, and it does. The skirt falls the way it needs to despite the abuse you’ve put it through in the last hour. You straighten out a seam here and there. Kyoya watches you fiddle with the details, unjudgmental. “Tell me what you see. Honestly.”

He raises an eyebrow. “Biased opinion and all?”

You roll your eyes. “Kyoya. Please.”

“Hmmm.” He appraises you as though you’re fine art, something valuable, and you can feel your cheeks flush under his gaze- though it’s a little more welcome this time. “The first thing I always notice is your eyes.” He puts a finger underneath your chin and raises it, making you appear more confident than you feel. “Whether they’re laughing, or stormy, or lost in thought. I always want to decipher them. Know what’s behind them. Then, there’s the hair that’s always out of place.” You unconsciously reach up to tuck it behind you ear, but he stops your hand and does it for you, tucking it back with practiced ease. “I love it, because it’s an excuse to touch you.”

“I usually notice your outfit, yes, but whether it’s an evening gown or your uniform or one of your old sleep shirts, the consensus is always the same. How you take over my thoughts no matter what. How I look for any reason to be closer to you. How I hope you know how beautiful you are. Perhaps I don’t tell you enough.” He won’t let you look away. “You are stunning. That never changes. To me, you are perfect. I cannot take your thoughts away, but I hope I can try to ease them whenever you need me to.” Another smile, so warm you almost don’t want the moment to end. “I have no issue lavishing you with how exquisite you are to me.”

“You are such a flatterer.” And he is, this is true. But the dress suddenly lays just a bit nicer around your torso and isn’t quite so tight in the areas you were fixated on before. The color seems brighter. It’s a little easier to breathe.

“Correct. But that doesn’t mean I lie.” A light kiss to your temple, and you lean into him, settling back into your own skin with far less anxiety than you started with. It still isn’t perfect. It might never be. But perfect to him, well. You’re not one to live your life for a man. But maybe that can be a start.

He helps you clasp your necklace and put on your shoes, doing the buckles for you so you don’t have to bend down. A pair of elbow length gloves gets added at the last second, thanks to that conversation with Haruhi. They both hide the residual trembling in your hands and look absolutely fantastic as Kyoya kisses the back of your palm. “As I said. Stunning.”

Another smile, which he returns. “Let’s go, before I change my mind.”

“Only if you promise to eat once we arrive.” He winks at you on the way out, so subtle you almost miss it. “I plan to keep my favorite dance partner busy tonight.”

[quinnyundertow]

The Cult Leader’s Quarry

Chapter 5

Beautiful Bitchy Face

You should have known that something was going to go terribly wrong when you were enjoying yourself a little too much on your date. After his first glass of whiskey Nanami seemed to unwind a little bit and let down his guard. His fingers moving to roll up the sleeves of his navy dress shirt. The corded muscle of his forearms distracting you from whatever it was he was saying. The two of you are enjoying the time alone at the table discussing novels now as Gojo and Zoe move with the crowd on the packed dance floor.

Nanami’s deep honeyed voice calls your name again to get your attention. You feel yourself flush as you look up quickly. “I’m sorry, what was that?” You use your distraction as an excuse to get a little closer as if you are having trouble hearing. Your hand lightly rests on his bicep as you lean towards him.

He glances down to where your smaller hand gently lays on his arm. Butterflies of giddiness he isn’t used to feeling flutter inside him. The tips of his ears and high cheekbones are tinted red from a pleasurable mix of excitement and embarrassment. He can’t remember the last time he felt his heart race like this for a positive reason. Maybe it never has. You have a lot in common so far and that was the last thing he was expecting from a date Gojo had set up.

Taking your movement into his space as a good sign he leans a little closer. Nanami’s always been so busy chasing curses that he hasn’t ever taken the time to chase skirts. His sensual lips are moving by your ear. “I asked if I could buy you another mojito?”

A happy shiver rolls down your spine as you nod, “I’d like that.” He’s close enough to you now that you can smell his heavenly mixture of man, sandalwood, spice and whiskey. He looks reluctant to move away as he gestures for another round from a nearby waitress.

You leave your hand on his arm lightly. You’re relishing in the difference in textures; the crisp dress shirt, his light masculine blonde arm hair and the warmth of his pale skin beneath your fingers.

From the corner of your eye you see someone casually slip into the empty seat across from Nanami. The new voice being smooth and sensual with a hint of warning as they address your date, “Well, isn’t this nice? When Satoru claimed he had found a replacement for me this evening I didn’t imagine it would be the ever stoic Nanami, Kento.”

You can sense something is wrong long before your vision can see it. Nanami’s relaxed posture tightens up and exudes hostility immediately in response to the uninvited guest. You’re turning in confusion, your gaze landing on a man with closed eyes and a Cheshire smile. It’s only when he opens his eyes and you see the dangerous glint within that you register this isn’t just a random stranger. It’s him. He's so staggeringly beautiful it’s hard to look at him. His features, so prettily crafted, make him appear like a fallen angel. His raven hair is pulled into a messy bun with only a small bit of bangs resting to cradle his face. He’s wearing the same gauges as the last two times you ran into one another. The only difference now is several more piercings on both ears and onyx metal snakebite piercings that pull your gaze down to his lips.

If it wasn’t for his, better than you posture and tone of voice, you might have thought it was a different person entirely. The iconic monk robes are gone. His black button up dress shirt is worn casually. The fabric pulls tauntingly over his muscular chest and arms. The top two buttons undone so a bit of his chest is exposed. He isn’t looking at you. In fact he is refusing to acknowledge your existence to the point where he’s actively ignoring you.

The silence around the table drags as Nanami’s jaw flexes in agitation, “Suguru Geto.” He spits the name out like it’s a curse.

Geto raises a wry brow in response, “How formal.”

The waitress comes by the table carrying the two fresh drinks for you and Nanami. She misses the hostile atmosphere and greets your newest party member happily, “Good evening, can I get you anything from the bar?”

Before Geto can respond Nanami is frowning deeply, “No, he was just leaving.”

Tilting his head with a hum, Geto asserts, “Actually, I think I’ll stay for a while. Let me get what he’s having.”

“Right away.” The young lady chirps with a flirty wink before disappearing back into the throng of bodies.

Geto’s lip curls in disgust at her retreating form. “I don’t know how you can stand to be surrounded by all this monkey stench.” His eyes roam the room with disdain.

Your stomach dropped in panic when the man you now know is named Suguru Geto states his intention to stay. You try to rein in your fear, pulse pounding in your ears. Your fingers are turning white and tightening on Nanami’s arm. It’s only now that Nanami seems to notice your fearful expression. His hand moves to hold the back of the stool you are seated in. An effortless tug of the metal frame moves you so you're pulled slightly behind his own seated form.

The gesture makes you feel a little safer but Geto just laughs in response. “You don’t have to be so cold, Nanami. I have no problem with you.”

You can hear Nanami’s teeth practically grinding in irritation, “I can’t say I feel the same.” His tone is short and to the point. Your vision tracks around the crowded room. No Zoe or Gojo present. Nanami continues, “There are orders to bring you into custody, if encountered, dead or alive.”

Geto doesn’t look particularly surprised or even interested at this news. “Is that so? Do you think you can manage it?”

“No, I’m not an idiot.” The tone Nanami uses sounds bitter and resigned. You had no clue what they are talking about. Is Nanami a police officer? You wouldn’t be surprised if this Suguru Geto is a wanted criminal.

Geto stretches nonchalantly, several silver rings inlaid with black diamonds flash in the low lighting. The waitress brings Geto’s drink over, her posture excited to have an excuse to interact with the handsome man once more, “So what brings-.”

The girl barely gets three words out when without so much as a glance Geto does a rude shooing motion with his hand. The woman draws back in surprise at the attitude but rolls her eyes before turning away.

“Thank you!” You call after her retreating form, the placating words coming out of your mouth before you consider if they should.

Only at that do Geto’s eyes lazily move from Nanami’s gaze to your own. He scrutinizes you for a moment. His gaze is so intense that it feels like he’s pulling you into his coal shaded orbs. There’s something strange in his expression. The emotion shown is so brief that you would later think you had only imagined it; a sliver of wistfulness, longing, maybe even regret. But as soon as it came the vulnerability was gone. His eyes return to Nanami and he gives that closed eye grin. His hand disappears into his pants pocket only to emerge with some sort of small bottle of disinfecting spray. He sprays himself a few times as Nanami stares at him in confusion.

“It’s the only thing that helps with the monkey stench.” Geto replies nonchalantly as Nanami’s face shows incredulity.

The muscle in Nanami’s jaw ticks, “I thought it was an exaggeration, but you really did go insane.”

“No, I simply began to understand my worth. You’d do well to learn your own as well.” He cuts a glance at you, his lip curling in genuine revulsion, “Then you won’t lower yourself to dating something so beneath you.”

You have had enough. This crazy ass cult leader didn’t even know the first thing about you and he’s just smiling away as he insults you to your face. Your fingers tighten against the drink in your hand. The glass perspiring and wetting your fingers in the warm room. It almost feels like time is moving in slow motion as you jerk your arm forward and watch with satisfaction as the alcohol inside it sloshes over the rim and across the table. The action was so unexpected, so outside of any response you’ve had thus far, that he didn’t see it coming until it splattered across his beautiful bitchy face. The table is absolutely silent as the liquid drips down his nose and mouth. One or two ice cubes slide into his shirt as they fall to the floor.

Your aim was uncharacteristically spot on. Nanami has a look of horror on his face as he moves to stand between you and the now drenched curse user. Geto’s eyes are still closed when the deathly quiet is shattered by hysterical laughter from none other than Satoru Gojo. Of course he and Zoe chose now of all moments to emerge from the dance floor.

You’re tempted to make a break for it but find yourself frozen in place as the man you just soaked turns to meet your eyes. Finding your courage you stand and lean around Nanami to address this Suguru Geto, “I don’t know who the hell you think you are but I’m done taking shit from some pretty boy with a God complex! Get over yourself, you're not better than anyone else in here. If anything you’re worse because you survive by leeching off of the same people you look down on. What a pathetic existence that is.”

You expect rage, for him to stand up and try to strike you. Instead he’s staring at you with a mix of malice and amusement. His smile is stretched into almost a grimace, his cheek twitching. Geto’s tone is clipped when he finally speaks, “Are you quite finished?” You don’t respond but your hand lowering to place the glass back on the table is answer enough for him. He sounds mocking and condescending as he answers his own query, “That’s what I thought.” He pauses briefly, his head tilting slightly as he watches you. It reminds you of the way a snake watches its prey before it strikes. “You’re feeling very brave today. Hiding behind a sorcerer's back.”

Your brow furrows in confusion at him calling Nanami a sorcerer. This guy really is crazy. You step to the side, moving closer to Zoe and Gojo. Your intent, more importantly, is to move out from behind Nanami’s protective shadow. Your visage is challenging as you tilt your head up in defiance.

At some point Gojo had stopped laughing. The sounds of the club are interrupted by a different laugh this time. Geto barks out a singular sharp “Ha!” He’s starting to look manic now. His pupils dilating as he fixes you with a crooked grin. “You’ll do well to remember this moment when you are sobbing for mercy later.”

He says the threat so casually that you can’t help but question if you heard him correctly. The response of those around you lets you know you did. Gojo is stepping forward to speak to Geto as Nanami ushers both you and Zoe into the crowd and towards the nearest exit.

Zoe looks panicked when you meet her eyes. She’s peering around Nanami and cycling between Geto and Gojo at the table. Her vision finally landing on you as the three of you quickly leave. Her free hand grabs on to your own. Not to pull you back or make you stop but to give reassurance. She’s leaning forward, her voice an urgent whisper, “What the hell is going on? Are you okay?”

You glance at her quickly before talking over your shoulder. “I am so fucked.”

Zoe looks confused, glancing back one last time at the two gorgeous men they left behind. She can’t help but feel a shiver go down her spine at the way the alternative looking guy is staring you down. “I’m assuming this is not a good fuck?”

“This is really not the time.” You whine. Your breath catches in your throat as Nanami’s hand rests on your lower back and pulls you closer to his side as you pass a particularly rowdy group of drunks. Zoe trails close behind, essentially walking in the wake of people Nanami leaves. Her eyebrows wiggle with a barely concealed snicker seeing you flush so hard up against the man’s massive pectorals.

A rush of cool air and the muffling of music lets you know the moment you appear outside the club. Your group moves over to the side so you don’t obstruct the entrance as you look up at Nanami a little guiltily. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have reacted like- “.

You’re momentarily stunned when the stoic man starts laughing. He raises a hand and clears his throat to try and mask the sudden outburst. “You really shouldn’t have.” His tone is chiding but there’s a glint of amusement in his eyes. “That said, I was about to reach over the table and make a bigger scene than you did.” He’s looking down at Zoe, an apology ready, “I’m sorry I whisked you out of there so fast as well.”

The corner of Zoe’s mouth twitches as she tries to hold back giggles. Hand fluttering, she waves him off while stepping away from you two, “Don’t mind me. I’m just a fly on the wall. A cigarette butt on a street corner.” She was definitely still buzzed despite the excitement earlier. As she steps further away and out of Nanami’s line of sight she flashes you a giddy thumbs up that has you hold back a fit of laughter. You are definitely not sober either.

Nanami’s glancing behind him at the club his face pinched in concern, “I’m not worried about Gojo’s well being but I should get back in there for damage control.” He frowns at you for a moment before asking, “How were you ladies planning on getting home?”

You glance in the general direction of the metro station, “We’re just taking the train.”

“Home?!” Zoe’s loud interruption is followed by the sound of her hand slapping her mouth shut. “Ignore me, I’m just a leaf on a tree. A-a cricket on a- shit..” She mumbling out some other crackpot analogies as Nanami turns back towards you.

“I’m really not a fan of not walking a date home after. Can I call you a car?”

It’s your turn to wave him away. Despite the chaos of the evening your blind date had been an unexpectedly pleasant experience. “No, we’re fine. We take the train home from this station after work everyday.”

Zoe leans forward talking to no one in particular, “A ride home would be nice.” You’re giving her a reproachful look as she turns her face away so as not to see it.

Nanami already has the phone to his ear by the time you turn back to insist you’re fine. “Yes, I’m sending my location. I need a driver to take two ladies home.” The person on the other line must have asked something uncomfortable as Nanami’s cheeks turn crimson. His fingers fiddling with his tie awkwardly, “You’ll have to take it up with Gojo. He’s the one who- right. Thank you.” Nanami hangs up the phone without further comment. His warm hazel eyes meet yours for a moment as he clears his throat, “I need to get back in there. Do you- Can we exchange numbers?”

You can’t help the giddy feeling that races through you at the thought of a prospective second date. You’re smiling from ear to ear as you fish your phone out of your purse. “Sure, I’d like that.”

He nods, opening his contacts and passing the phone over while you do the same. He clears his throat again as he finishes typing and holds your phone back to you. “If anything unusual or strange happens, you shouldn’t hesitate to reach out.”

Your stomach drops, the giddiness extinguishing. “Oh, right. Okay then.” What was with these guys and referencing something strange. What even qualifies as something strange?

All hope for a second date flies out the window as the man bows his head to you and Zoe before going back inside the club.

Zoe walks up to stand beside you. “Sooo, you wanna tell me what that was all about?”

~~

Heart racing, blood pumping, nerves alight and senses tingling. His erection is straining against his suit pants; his thigh tacky with precum. It’s a little past two am. The parking lot is dark and full of vehicles. His own exorbitantly expensive sports car looks out of place in this middle class area. He doesn’t bother to lock it. One of his curses lazes in front of it, its directive to kill anyone who tries to tamper with the luxury vehicle.

Suguru’s footsteps echo off the pavement as he approaches your apartment complex. Even after going into the mens room at the club and washing his face off, he still feels that stickiness on him from where your drink had landed. His shirt, no longer damp, still reeks of booze and lime. His cock twitches painfully in his pants just thinking about the way you attempted to bare your fangs at him. You reminded him of a feral kitten; simply adorable and harmless as you tried to draw blood.

If Satoru hadn’t been there tonight he might have lost control at the bar. He had found you almost immediately in the crowd when he entered. His eyes drawn to your presence. You had your hands all over a man. It hadn’t even registered immediately to him that it was Nanami leaning into you; speaking in your ear as you laughed gaily. Of course Satoru would drag another sorcerer into this. It was all just one big game to his white haired foolish friend.

Fucking Satoru and his medlsome nature. If he hadn’t interfered Suguru would have bent you over the table in front of everyone. Taken his belt to your ass right there until you viscerally understood that your bratty attitude would not be tolerated. No, he should thank Satoru. He would have had to kill everyone in that club after they saw you exposed and writhing beneath him. Satoru’s presence had forced his rage into a simmer, turning the heat down from that roiling boil you left inside him.

Your apartment door stands only feet in front of him now. He resists the urge to break the hinges with a powerful kick. The curse he summons simply turns the lock from the inside. The door slowly creaks open to invite him in. It’s dark. If not for the artificial city lights outside your window it would be pitch black inside. Suguru reaches out a hand with black painted nails to shut the door after him. The bolt lock slowly clicking into place. He doesn’t want to be interrupted tonight.

The front door opens up to your kitchen. He considers leaving your present on the counter like he originally intended. But you didn't really deserve it right now. Maybe he’d change his mind after he was done with you. Right now he needs you to understand your position on his modified food chain.

Suguru’s breath is picking up as he passes through your kitchen and makes his way down the hall to your bedroom. He’s excited, ecstatic, aroused. He likes the unexpected fight you showed him this evening. He wants to take his time breaking it out of you. His fingers levitate over your bedroom door knob for a moment before he goes to swing it open.

~~

Satoru Gojo and Nanami Kento stand outside on top of an apartment complex adjacent to the one you’re asleep in. The night is chilly but neither man seems to notice as they wait to see if Suguru Geto will show himself. Nanami is more than a little irritated at his snowy haired colleague and Gojo is aware and simply doesn’t care right now. The mood is tense and only after several hours have passed and the lights inside turn off does Nanami finally speak. “Why haven’t you put him down yet?”

Gojo turns to look at Nanami, the blindfold not impairing his vision at all. “Put him down? He’s not a damn dog.” Gojo tries to mask the irritation in his tone but knows he’s unsuccessful. He comes across as sarcastic and agitated.

Nanami turns to meet his gaze head on. He’s never been one to shy away from confrontation. Especially when he feels like it concerns something ethical. “You’re right. A dog would do a hell of a lot less damage.”

Gojo turns away without comment. It’s not until Nanami starts to think he’s going to be ignored that Gojo finally breaks the stalemate. “You went to school with him too. Even if you didn’t like him. How can you just say something like that?”

Crossing his arms, Nanami's lips turn down into a deep frown. “Gojo, he’s a murderer.”

Gojo spins on the slightly shorter man, his canines glittering as he bites out, “So am I and so are you!” His tone is vicious.

Nanami’s response is firm. “It’s not the same thing and you know it. We’ve killed curse users or people turned into curses. We don’t kill innocent people.”

A sarcastic laugh leaves Gojo’s throat, “We don’t know if the people Suguru is killing are innocent.”

“He killed everyone in a village, surely they were all not guilty of crimes deserving death. Gojo, he killed his parents.”

Gojo doesn’t want to hear this. He can’t ignore the atrocities Suguru has committed when Nanami keeps shoving them in his face. The next line he speaks is under his breath like he doesn’t even believe what he’s saying, “Someone else can do it.”

Nanami feels his temper explode, “Like hell they can!” He’s grabbing Gojo by the shoulders and shaking him violently. The fact that Gojo is allowing it is lost on Nanami in the moment. “You know damn well you’re the only one capable of beating him in a fight! It’s your responsibility as the strongest to-.”

Gojo gives a sarcastic chuckle that catches Nanami off guard, “Yeah, well you know what Nanami? I never asked to be the strongest! I never asked to be seen as a weapon; to be used at society’s whim. I’m a human fucking being with feelings of my own. So you wanna know when am I going to “put down” my best and only friend? When I fucking feel like it!”

Gojo activates his infinity and Nanami feels his grip on the man in front of him release. Without another word Gojo sits down facing the apartment complex’s parking lot. A long gap of time passes in silence. Both men rehashing in their heads the words they said. Eventually, Nanami lets out a deep breath. He’s not about to apologize for anything he’s said and neither is Gojo but at least they know where each other is coming from whether it’s right, wrong, or somewhere in between.

Nanami sinks down to sit next to Gojo. His posture is less aggressive as he genuinely tries to understand this evening, “At least tell me why all this.” He gestures around him at the apartment complex, his implication clearly the involvement of the two non-sorcerer girls. “You dragged me into this and I at least deserve the answer to that.”

A long moment goes by before Gojo finally speaks. His tone defeated, “That mask he wears. That smile. The only time I’ve seen it slip since he left was when it involved the girl you went out with.”

Chapter 4

[halfmoonshines]

damon salvatore getting dragged by his gf to a taylor swift concert? <3

I AM LIVVINGGGGGGG FOR TIHS PROMPT

i love you

--

anything for you

damon salvatore x f!reader

summary: the eras tour would be your dream come true, and maybe even Damon's.

..••°°°°••....••°°°°••....••°°°°••..

You woke with a start from your side of the bed, Damon's arm wrapped around you in a vice grip and your phone ringing off the hook somewhere across the room. You managed to shimmy out of his grip and patted his arm in apology when you noticed his eyes fluttering open.

Crossing the room and picking up your phone right as it stopped ringing, you noticed that you had ten missed calls from Caroline. Worried, you typed in your pass code to call her back but you didn't have to - because her face popped up on the screen again.

"Hello?" You denied the FaceTime and instead chose to use it as a call, hand running through your ragged bed head. "Is someone dead?"

"Turn on your camera right now. Turn it on, Y/N, I swear to God. I want to see your face when I tell you this." You didn't think you'd ever heard the blonde sound so excited, and that was definitely saying something.

You pulled the phone away from your face and groaned, tapping a few buttons until Caroline's screen appeared. But it wasn't her face, she was looking at her laptop. You tried to focus your eyes but were failing horribly.

"Do you believe it!?!"

"Caroline, I just woke up. I can't see that." You tried your best not to sound annoyed with your best friend.

Caroline's camera flipped, smile shining brightly. "That, my love, is an email I got this morning from Taylor Nation containing an early access code to Eras Tour tickets in Atlanta! They said it was for that Spotify challenge we did, so I'd bet you have one too."

She didn't need to say that because you had already pulled out your email app, refreshing it to see if there was a gift waiting there.

There was.

"Oh my god!" You jumped a bit and Caroline renewed her screeching over the phone, immediately jumping into outfit ideas.

"Fuck me." Damon's curse was barely audible from behind you.

..••°°°°••....••°°°°••....••°°°°••..

You began preparing him from that day forward. You knew that he knew about Taylor Swift, especially since you played her all the time, but he didn't know enough. Not Eras Tour enough.

He was reluctant at best. Always a quip and a half away from you throwing your phone at his head.

"So you're saying that she vanished for years because she was so criticized and then made it her entire personality? Came out with an album about how misunderstood she was? Dramatic." The last word was sing-song, casually flipping a page in his magazine.

You stalked over to his place on the couch angrily, gripping his leg to uncross his ankles and sit at the edge of the couch, forcing him into a sitting position. "It's iconic, Damon. She's a literal superstar."

His smile was sardonic but his eyes only held love. "Whatever you say, Darling?"

..••°°°°••....••°°°°••....••°°°°••..

You were practically vibrating in your hotel room, placed in front of the mirror and putting the last touches on what you believed to be the perfect outfit.

It was your version of the Midnights body suit, just a shade darker, and a bit more tassel. Your eyes looked up and caught Damon gazing at you from his position in the bed. You offered him a large smile, knowing he was definitely about to step out of his comfort zone. He'd been a good sport about the outfit though, and was wearing a black 'My Girlfriend's a Swiftie' shirt. It was adorable.

You turned to him and leaned down with a quick kiss. "Thank you for coming with me."

He pulled you back for a more drawn out one, and gave you his signature smirk. "Anything for you."

..••°°°°••....••°°°°••..

By the time that Taylor got to your favorite era, you were already on your third wind. Damon had been way more amiable about it than you thought he would be, swaying along to one side while you and Caroline were going absolutely feral, belting all the lyrics.

That was, until the surprise songs. She started strumming the first few lines of Timeless and you felt Damon stiffen next to you, jaw clenching a bit. You were over the moon, Timeless was one of your favorite songs. Little did you know it was Damon's too.

You swayed along to the beginning of the song, arm linked through Caroline's. But about halfway through, over the singing crowd, you heard the man next to you singing softly.

"I thought 'bout it as I started looking around at these precious things that time forgot."

You tried your best not to turn and stare at him, but he definitely noticed the grin spreading across your face. You started singing along too, other arm reaching out to grasp his hand.

..••°°°°••....••°°°°••....••°°°°••..

[akaakeis]

CONGRATS ON 100 FOLLOWERS SAV!!!!! YOU DESERVE IT AND SO MUCH MORE!

for the event!! Which is super cool btw!

im going to the neighbours room with a knife... taking a special mixtape and sheet music w/ me..... and ofc I'll bring my baby nishinoya !!!

for the song.. if i have 2 choose.. hmmm....... rollerskates by end of the world !!! or peach eyes by w2e!!

midnight skates — nishinoya y.

cw: none? i think? but not proofread  ||  wc: 671

— for my dear @laughingfcx <3  ||  event

🎶 — rollerskates - end of the world

the night felt uncomfortable and sticky, the remains of summer still hanging over the weather. your room felt much too hot and humid to fall asleep in. all you did for about an hour was toss and turn, shifting pillows to the side, blankets, everything, in an attempt to be able to fall asleep. for once in a long time, you had decided to fall asleep early, and now you weren't even able to fall asleep. rich, wasn't it?

with extreme frustration, you threw yourself out of bed, groaning. it's not like you can go out to the living room and watch tv or eat something— that would risk waking someone up. doing the only think that you knew you could do, you picked up your phone. the bright screen cast a blueish-white light onto your face. your eyes browse the apps on your home screen until you find the little messages app icon. you click on noya's profile, typing out a message reading "i can't sleep :("

after a couple beats of silence, you see the typing bubble at the bottom left of your screen as he types out a reply to you. the message comes back through to you, reading "sorry love :( we can stay up together then." the message makes a small smile creep onto your face. he was so sweet.

your fingers tap at the screen, and you hit the send button, writing a text that says "meet me at the park with your roller skates instead." he immediately replied back to you, saying "see you in 5."

with that done, you slipped on a hoodie and grabbed your own roller skates, quietly moving about the house. it'd be so bad if you'd woken someone up right now. you creep out of the house, shutting the door as softly as possible, lacing up your roller skates on as you sit on the porch. finally tying them, you roll off to the park excitedly. your pajama pants flutter behind you, clinging to your legs as you skate on, full speed ahead.

by the time you make it to the park, noya is already skating around, waiting for you. subconsciously, you start to smile. his hair is all down and he's in his pajamas. he looks so precious this way. 

"yuu," you call out to him. he turns around, smiling widely. he waves at you, skating over happily.

"hey." he skids to a stop, engulfing you in a hug. "you alright? why couldn't you sleep?"

"yeah, i'm fine," you laugh, "it's nothing, just too humid." you hug him back, squeezing him really hard. "i missed you."

he smiles, burying his face into your hair. "missed you too! c'mon, let's skate." after saying that, he lets go of you, grabbing your hand and pulling you off into the park.

you snort, following him as you struggle to keep up. "wait up, wait up!" you laugh, trying to use your body weight to slow him down. you're practically just rolling behind him. 

"keep up!" he exclaims, swinging you in front of him. you're now rolling backwards as he holds onto your hand.

"oh my gosh." you let go of his hand in amusement. "hey, let's race? i get a head start-!" you immediately speed off, trying to get as far as possible before noya starts catching up.

"oh you're sneaky," he says amusedly, skating after you. after only 15 seconds, he's caught up to you, wrapping his arms around your waist. "boo!"

you gasp, startled by the sudden embrace. "what the heck," you laugh. "yuu, you're so fast, it's seriously annoying."

"i'm just better than you," he teases. "wanna try again, then?"

you roll your eyes. this wasn't a battle worth fighting— you knew you'd lose if you raced him again. that's fine by you; you love him.

the night was filled with giggles and the whir of both of your skates' wheels. you spent the night spinning around the park with yuu. who needed sleep when he was there, after all?

a/n :

THANK YOU LINA!! this is was so fun to write <33 first request down!! ugh i love noya sm :(

[horny4hetfield]

Getting Business Done

On man!  I can see how this can become addictive!!!    I hope y’all like this one!!!

Warnings: Smut, Unprotected sex, slight degrading and confrontation, NSFW

You are very happy in your job.  You’d been there for several years.  Your boss, James, is a good looking – hell – handsome man.  Standing 6’1” with silvered short cut hair, horseshoe mustache, heavily tattooed, he could be an imposing figure.  Until he smiled.  It was always bright and his bluer than blue eyes would sparkle.  Both of you had been through some tough times.  His divorce.  Your long term relationship ending.  Having to move the company office due to water damage.

Then came the contract that on the surface looked to be a dream deal.  You, James and his business partner Chad, have spent numerous late nights in the conference room going over every word in the contract.  Finally, the day the customer was to come into the office to sign the deal arrived.  James had promised everyone that should this deal get signed, he was taking everyone out to dinner.  Studying your closet, you select the lacey purple dress.  Since it was July, the short skirt would be acceptable.  Somewhere in the back of your mind, you hope that James likes it too.  Quickly collecting your work things you hurry to get to the office.  You end up parking your car next to the huge black tuck that belongs to James.  You collect your things, get out of the car, lock it and get to your desk just inside the front door.  Your computer is just finishing powering up when you hear James walk up behind you.

“Hey, do you think this paragraph is really correct?” he sets down the stack of papers on your desk, pointing to the words in question, his other large hand resting gently between your exposed shoulder blades.  You really have to concentrate on the words and not the feeling of his hand on your back.  Pulling up the document on your computer you get to the paragraph in question.  You do a quick read through and make some edits.

“Does this work better?”

James flips the papers over grabs a pen and scribbles some changes.  You quickly make them.  He leans over you again to read the paragraph.  His cologne is just enough to be alluring. Looking sideways at him, his lips curl up into a radiant smile.

“That’s it!”

Hitting the print icon, “It’s on the printer!” 

He pats your back and leaves your desk area “I’ll go get it!”

You watch James go down the hallway.  You can’t help yourself.  He’s wearing the black jeans that just fit his ass perfectly.  The cowboy boots are perfect.  A white button down shirt with the rolled up sleeves exposing his tattooed forearms.  Your heart flutters.

The front door flies open and in walks the customer.

“Mr. Mancini, welcome to ….”

Mr Mancini almost throws his phone at you.  “You need to fix my travel!”  You take a step back as his face is filled with rage.  “I hate that airline!  And where is my coffee!  I told you to have my coffee waiting!”

You start out calmly, “Mr Mancini, I didn’t do your travel, but I will see what I can do …”

“You will fix it!  And get my coffee now!”  He’s yelling at you full volume.  In all your years of working, no one has yelled in a rage at you.  “I said now!”  Mr Mancini manages to land a backhanded swipe across your left check. 

It sends you stumbling into the short file cabinet behind your desk where you collapse to the ground.  Your head reeling.  From down the hallway you hear Chad yelling and a roar that can only come from James.  Chad is pushing the customer back.  James leaps the countertop of your desk to plant one foot on either side of you, hugging you with his lower legs.

“Chad if you want this contract, it’s yours.  But I want nothing to do with that man.”  The tone in James’ voice is one you’ve never heard him use before.  Low.  Growl.  Dangerous.  Leaning down, James tenderly puts his hands on your shoulders making you jump slightly.  “Hey”  His voice now a gentle rumble next to your ear.  “Can you stand up for me?”  You are shaking to your core and can’t move.  Gently lifting you, James collects you into his arms and bulldozes his way out the front door, leaving the shouting voices behind.

Taking you to his truck, he balances you on his knee while he opens the passenger door.  He hoists you into the passenger seat and secures the seatbelt.  Making sure that you are completely inside, he closes your door.  Moments later he’s in the driver’s seat and the truck roars to life. 

You are totally numb.  He tenderly grasps your left wrist, “Hey” his voice a gentle rumble, “stay with me.”

Your eyes lock onto his tattooed hand.  The warmth of his fingers are slowly warming your cold arm.  “What did I do wrong?” comes out in a squeak.

His fingers gently squeeze, “Nothing.  You did absolutely nothing wrong.”

The tears start to fall.  You can’t stop them.  You’re afraid to move.  Moving would let the dam break.

His voice a comfort, “I’m taking you to my place.  You don’t need to be alone right now.”  The truck makes a right turn, “Don’t worry.  I got you.”  It seems like moments later the truck pulls into his driveway.  He jumps out and pops open your door.  Undoing your seat belt, James scoops you out of the big vehicle, kicks that door closed and carries you inside.  He kicks off his boots just inside the garage door.

You barely notice where you are.  You are only acutely aware of being in James’ arms.  The warmth he radiates.  The rumble of his voice.  The hints of clean cotton shirt, his cologne and cigar from his neck as you rest your head on his shoulder. 

He sinks into the sofa, which puts you squarely in his lap.  He gingerly brushes a stray bit of hair from your face.  “You are safe now.”  That simple declaration opens the flood gates.  Your sobs are uncontrollable.  James just wraps you up in his arms securely.  “Let it out.”  He tenderly tucks you closer to him, “It’s ok” he coos into your hair.  He gently strokes your hair.  Your sobs slowly ease to hiccupping, then to sniffles.  The shoulder of his shirt now soaking wet.

James, holding you even tighter to his chest, leans over to the sofa table, collects the tissue box, sits back and hands you several.  Turning your head away, you blow your nose.  He gently wipes away the tear streaks down your cheeks with his thumbs.  His fingers gently lift your chin, “Let me see.”  His blue eyes filled with concern.  You let him turn your head.  His fingers gently touch your cheek.  Your face still being tender from being slapped, you flinch slightly.  He cups your head in both his hands and pulls you closer, “No bruise.”  His lips press tenderly to your forehead.

You pull back, blinking slowly, looking into his big blue eyes seeing the concern shift to – well – something more.  The denied tension inside you bubbles up flushing all other feelings away.  You take a shuddering shallow breath as he leans in closer, his eyes locked on yours.  You meet his lips.

A silent explosion happens between the two of you.  You both feed from the other.  His hand cups your head and his other arm wraps around you holding you close to his chest.  Your arms wrap around his shoulders and neck.  You are both panting when the kiss slowly breaks.

Almost in a whisper, “HR isn’t going to like this.”

A smirk spreads across his face, “I can fix that.”  He kisses you again, “You’re fired.”  A longer kiss.

“Ok.”  You relax into his arms.

He shifts you off his lap forcing your legs to pop up.  “Where are my shoes?”

His eyebrows scrunch up, “Maybe in the truck.”  He gently shifts your legs so he can stand.  Holding out his hands to you, you stand.  James gently pulls you toward him.  His fingers softly caress your arms, up over your shoulders, down your back – slowly unzipping your dress at the same time.  A shiver runs through your body.  You rest your hands on his waist.  At the end of the zipper, James fingers start working up your back, slowly pulling your dress open.  He pauses for just a moment when he expertly unhooks your bra.  His fingers pull both clothing articles off your shoulders.  They puddle around your bare feet.  Leaving you standing in front of this imposing man naked – save for the lacey purple thong.  Locking your eyes to his, you hook your thumbs into the waistband.

James’ hands quickly covers your, “I’ll get to that” his lips silence yours “In a moment.”

Your hands ghost up James arms.  His large hands rest on your naked waist.  Your fingers trace their way to the buttons on James’ shirt.  You undo the top button.  James’ fingers are making lazy circles on your hips.  The second button is undone.  You pull the fabric open and kiss the bit of his chest newly exposed.  He inhales sharply.  Another button undone.  Another kiss to his chest.  Another hitched breath.  Reaching behind him, you untuck his shirt from his jeans.  James grabs his shirt and yanks it open, the remaining buttons pop off in all directions.  You run your hands up his body to his shoulders pushing the ruined fabric from his body where it joins your dress on the ground.

You take a half step back, but James’ arms pull you back into his body.  His lips crash into yours.  Your arms wrap around his now bare back.  Your palms plant on his skin pulling him closer to you.  You can feel his erection pressing against his jeans.  His chest hairs gently rub against your very erect nipples.  Your loins flutter in response as a whimper escapes you.

Not breaking the kiss, James lifts you and carries you from the living room to his bedroom.  Kneeling up onto the bed, he lays you out under him.  His lips not breaking from yours.

Finally pulling away from your mouth, James kneels up.  His eyes drinking in your body.  His hands exploring your curves.  “You are beautiful” he breathes.

Reaching up, you undo his belt buckle and pull the leather from his pants and toss it aside.  The belt buckle clatters on the tile flooring.  James reaches to undo his jeans, but you gently push his hands away.  Smiling down at you, James lets you have your way.

Running your hands down his hips to his thighs, you feel his body respond to your hands.  James sighs deeply. Slowly your hands move to the front of James’ thighs just above his knees and slowly up.  Your fingers find his erection held in check by the fabric of his jeans.  Firm.  Strong. Throbbing.  You palm slowly up his cock.  James sucks in a sharp breath.

Pushing your arms to the side, he leans over you.  Planting his hands on either side of your body, kissing you.  He slowly lowers his body over yours.  You whimper.  “Just wait” he smiles at you.  “You can have that soon enough.”  His kisses slowly move down your neck to your chest.  “You first” he whispers into your ear.  You whimper as your pinned hips try to buck up into his.  He moves slowly down your body.  Kissing.  Nibbling.  Sucking.  Licking.  Making you moan and whimper as he leaves his love marks on your flesh.

He positions himself on his stomach between your legs.  His eyes lock on yours, his grin deliciously evil.  You wiggle your hips silently begging.  Resting on his elbows, his hands cup your butt and lift your hips to his mouth.  His gaze shifts from your eyes to look hungarily at your sopping wet thong.  He inhales deeply about half an inch from you making you whimper in anticipation. 

Flipping your legs over his shoulders frees his hands.  He pulls his knife from his back pocket.  Your eyes open wider at the blade when he snaps it open.

“I have wondered if the carpet matches the drapes” he chuckles.  The sharp blade slices the waistband easily of your thong.  James closes the blade and tosses the blade in the general direction his belt went.  Your hands fly to cover your crotch as James literally sucks the fabric from your body.  He groans in ectasy as he savors your essence from the fabric.  He spits the destroyed garment to the side.  Opening his eyes, he sees your hands covering your privates.  He looks curiously up at you.  Seeing the twinkle in your eyes, he smiles and kisses your knuckles, “Please?"”

Grinning and wiggling a little, “What do you think?” biting your lower lip at him.

Gently licking your knuckles, “They match” he chuckles.

Smiling, you move your hands, “Ta dah!”

His eyes open wide, “Ahhh!  Bare floors!”  Kissing your pubic bone, “Why?”  His fingers squeeze your ass cheeks.

Letting your fingers caress his face, “Personal preference.  I just don’t like hair … there.”

James sends his tongue in a long slow lick from your taint to your clit making your hips thrust up into his face, pulling a long groan from you.  Licking his lips, his blues eyes catch yours, “Yeah.  Hair would just get in the way.”  He lowers his mouth back down and his tongue starts exploring your sex.  His licks, swirls, suckings and tender nibbles render you unable to form a coherent word.

As the tension in you builds, he lowers your hips to the bed, wrapping his arms under your legs up over your thighs so that his hands grasp your hips, locking you in place.  The sudden inability to move intensifies the sensations that James is doing to your nether regions.  A few expert licks from James’ tongue sends you over the edge.  Your body tries to buck against the restraint James’ hands have your body. Your vision blurs and the moan becomes a scream of release.  His tongue keeps working your clit, overstimulating you to the point where you can longer move.  Panting.  Barely able to move.  Vision blurred.  You are only aware of his mouth on your cunt.

James slowly pulls away from your overstimulated clit.  He presses feather soft kisses on your inner thighs.  Slowly he releases his hold on your hips.  You are weak from release.  James slowly works his way up your body leaving a blazing trail of kisses, licks, nibbles and hickies on your flesh.  It feels like he is reviving your body with the intensity of his lips.

Your eyes flutter open to find his bright blue eyes directly in front of you.  Your arms don’t want to respond, so you crunch up and lock your lips to his.  James kisses you back with a passion that reaches deep into you – to your very soul.  His eyes fill with everything his kiss gives to you.  Passion.  Desire.  Wants.  Needs.  Lust.  You two feed off that kiss.

Recovering, you realize that he has shed his jeans.  His naked body is pressed against yours.  His erection is twitching at your dripping opening.  Your fingers find his face, tracing his eyebrows, down his nose, his mustache.  His lips kiss your fingertips, gently sucking on the pads of your fingers.  Reaching between your bodies he teases your clit with dripping end of his cock leaving you moaning and wiggling under his torturous teasings.  The only words you can barely utter “James, please.”

James grins at you and slowly pushes the head into your soaked pussy.  The size slowly filling you makes you suck in a deep breath, your eyes flaring wide.

“Shh, shh” James coos at you as he pauses.  “Breath” he whispers.

It takes you a few moments to adjust to the feeling of him stretching deep inside you.  Once the discomfort dissipates, you rock your hips up and hook a leg around his waist, your heel digging into his ass forcing him still deeper into you.  This action makes you both inhale deeply. 

James plants both his hands above your shoulders.  His knees nudge up tight against your hips, forcing him still deeper into you.  He lowers his face down to the crook of your neck, his panting breath warm on your flesh.  You can tell he’s holding back.  Waiting on you.  Wrapping your arms around him, you turn your face to his ear right by your lips.  Kissing his ear, you whisper, “yes.”

James’ groan reverberates through your body as he slowly starts moving his hips.  His shaft gets impossibly thicker, stretching and filling you as never before.  At first, James’ movements are slow.  You can feel every vein in his cock, the shape of the head as he slowly moves in and out of your tight hole.  His voice growls in your ear “You are so tight.”  He grunts as his cock drives slowly into you “So wet.”

Your fingers dig into his back, clutching his neck.  You tighten your leg around his waist “All for you” as he dives deeper.  He growls louder and sinks his teeth into your shoulder.

Arching your back, you cry out in both ectasy and pain.  You use all your strength to hold his head close to your neck.  Jame’s teeth tighten on your shoulder.  He keeps a steady rhythm pounding his hips against yours.  The pressure building in you.  The room is filled with the sounds of wet flesh slapping wet flesh as he pounds away in you.  The obscene sound of his cock sliding in and out of your pussy.  Both of you are reduced to primal grunts and groans.  You rake your nails down his back.  Letting go of your shoulder, he lifts his head roaring, his hips slamming even harder into you.  You reach down and claw his ass.  He cries out again.  His thrusts slamming you into his arms above your shoulders, holding you for his pounding pleasure.

The orgasms crash into you both at the same time.  The gummy walls of your cunt squeeze his cock intensely as his cum fills you.  James manages a few jagged thrusts before calming and slowly lowering his weight on to your body.  His softening cock slides from within you.  You can feel the warm mix of your climaxes seeping out.

His hands caress you.  Starting with your hair.  Slowly touching your face.  His fingers gently closing your eyelids.  “Just feel” he whispers into your ear.  His fingers glide gently over your neck, over your shoulder.  As they move over your bicep, sleep grabs hold and pulls you under.

A gentle rumble in your ribs pulls you back to wakefulness.  Your left arm is over your head, your right hand is draped over James left arm – which is wrapped around your ribs.  He is sound asleep, his face burrowed into your left side.  The top of his head pressed into your armpit – keeping you from lowering that arm.  His left leg is up over your hips.  Your legs dangle over his right thigh.

You have not felt this way – safe – in ages.  You softly trace the intricate tattoos on James’ left forearm.  He snorfels into your ribs which tickles and makes you giggle.  He tightens his hold on your ribs and blows mouth farts on your side.  You squeal in laughter.  He blows another.  “Stop!  I gotta pee!” you cry out in laughter.

Rising up on his elbow, a smile spreads across his face to his eyes.  James leans over you planting a kiss on you.  He releases his hold on you, “Bathroom is that way” he points.

Slipping off the bed you make your way to the door indicated.  Finding the toilet in it’s own little room, you sigh in relief.  Washing your hands after, you quickly return to the bedroom. 

James passes you “My turn” landing a backhand smack to your bare ass.

You stretch out on the bed.  James returns and spoons up behind you, pulling you into his body.  Kissing your neck, “Oh shit.  I bruised you.”  You can feel his fingers tracing out the spot on your neck.

“That will cover up ok.”  You roll to your back within his arms.  “At least you didn’t draw blood.”

Shaking his head, “Not my thing.”

Smiling, you pull his face closer and kiss him.

“Shouldn’t you be at work?” James grins at you.

Doing an exaggerated pout, “I got fired.”

James, trying to be serious, “I know a guy.  I could put in a good word for you.”

A wicked smile grows on your face.  “That’s sweet.  But …”  Leading with your hips, you manage to roll him to his back letting the momentum carry you up on top of him.  “There’s a new position I thought I’d try for.”  You grind your dampening crotch into his quickly growing erection.

“Oh!  That’s interesting.”

Reaching between your bodies, you place his cockhead at your entrance, “I hear the interview is very penetrating” as you slowly sink down his length, stretching your depths.

James groans and pulls down on your hips, driving deeper into you.  “Well, that’s a great opening” he manages.  Using your Kegels, you grip his cock, squeezing and releasing.  He groans again.

James thrusts his hips up, overbalancing you.  Catching yourself on his shoulders – your left hand sliding off and landing by his neck.  James cups the back of your head and kisses you as you keep your actions working his cock.  Breaking the kiss, “That’s great multi-tasking abilities” he hisses.

Planting both your hands on his chest, you sit back up driving him deeper into your wetness.

Feeling his response, you speed up the rhythm.  His eyes roll back as you can feel his cock twitch inside you.  James reaches for your clit, but you grab his hands, “uh huh.  This is all for you.”  A few more strategic grinds and Kegels and he is undone.  With grunts and groans he fills your insides, your gummy walls milking every drop out of him.

James’ hands caress up your sides gently urging you down to his side.  He kisses your forehead, “You’re hired” he smirks.  You kiss his face and neck.  He lazily wraps his arms around you and heaves a sigh.  There you two linger. 

Then with a speed and agility you didn’t know he had, you are caught off guard as you find yourself on your stomach, he is behind you, his knees have knocked yours wide and you are impaled by his cock slamming back into your still dripping cunt.  His large hands pulling you tight against his body.

You can feel his chest hairs grazing your back as he leans over you, “Now.”  He slams into you again, “Let’s talk benefits.”

Only one word barely escapes your lips “ok!”

[nicnak20]

Wrong Number:

*When Yn sends a deeply profound message to her love, it gets sent to the wrong number, but the right person.*

The California sun, a gentle caress on the skin even in late afternoon, painted golden streaks across the cozy living room of Yn’s apartment. Outside, the distant murmur of Santa Monica promised a lively evening, but inside, the world felt hushed, intimate. Yn, perched on the edge of her plush sofa, phone clutched in her hand, felt a nervous flutter bloom in her chest. Her heart, usually a calm, steady drum, was now a hummingbird caught in a jar. Tonight was the night.

Across town, at a small, independent bookstore tucked away on a quieter street in Pasadena, Nicholas was shelving books. The scent of old paper and leather, his constant companion, always brought him a sense of peace. He hummed softly, a tuneless melody that mirrored the contentment simmering within him. Nicholas was a man who found joy in the small things – a well-brewed cup of coffee, the laughter of children playing in the park, the weight of a good book in his hands. His life, like the bookstore, was filled with quiet charm and gentle warmth.

He was, as anyone who knew him would attest, the embodiment of kindness. His brown eyes held a perpetual warmth, mirroring the California sunshine he adored. His brown hair, often slightly tousled, framed a face that readily broke into a cheerful smile. He moved through the world with a gentle grace, patient and understanding, always ready with a comforting word or a helping hand. He loved deeply, cared fiercely, and was utterly devoted to those fortunate enough to be in his life.

Back in Santa Monica, Yn’s thumb hovered over the send button. She reread the text one last time, her heart pounding in her ears. It was a confession, poured from the deepest wells of her heart. For Finn.

Finn, with his easy smile and adventurous spirit, had captured her heart from the moment they’d met at a beach bonfire last summer. Their relationship had blossomed slowly, organically, like a flower unfurling its petals to the sun. He was kind, gentle, warm – all the things she cherished. And she loved him. Deeply.

Tonight was their six-month anniversary, a milestone Yn felt deserved more than just dinner and flowers. She wanted to express the profound depth of her feelings, the way he had painted her world in brighter colours, the quiet joy he had brought into her life.

Taking a deep breath, she pressed send. The message icon turned green, confirming delivery. A rush of adrenaline, mixed with anticipation and a healthy dose of vulnerability, washed over her. She nestled back into the sofa, a soft smile playing on her lips, picturing Finn's reaction. She imagined his surprise, his delight, the way his eyes would crinkle at the corners when he smiled his most genuine smile.

Finn was currently at a friend’s bachelor party, a weekend camping trip in Yosemite. Cell service was spotty at best, which is why she opted for a text rather than a call. She knew he would check his phone eventually, find her message, and his heart would know exactly what she meant.

Meanwhile, in Pasadena, Nicholas's phone buzzed softly in his pocket. He paused in his shelving, pulling out his phone. A message from an unknown number. Curious, he opened it.

His eyes scanned the words, and a slow, almost disbelieving breath escaped his lips.

“My Dearest Love, As the sun sets on another day, and our six months together bathe in the golden light of California, my heart overflows with a love so profound, so complete, it takes my breath away. You are the gentle breeze that whispers through the palm trees, the warm sand between my toes, the endless blue of the Pacific sky. Every moment with you is a precious gem, each memory a star in the constellation of our love. You are my anchor, my safe harbor, the very essence of my happiness. I love you more than words can ever express, with a depth that reaches to the very core of my soul. Happy Anniversary, my love. Forever and always, Yn.”

Nicholas read it again, and then again. The words, so raw and vulnerable, so overflowing with genuine affection, resonated within him like a struck chord. He felt a strange ache in his chest, a yearning for the kind of love described in the message, a love that felt both passionate and peaceful, like a California sunset.

He didn’t know Yn. He didn't know who "Dearest Love" was. This was clearly a message meant for someone else. A wrong number. He knew he should just ignore it, delete it and move on. But he couldn’t. The sincerity in the words, the sheer outpouring of emotion, held him captive.

He looked around the quiet bookstore, the scent of aged paper suddenly feeling more poignant, more lonely. He was surrounded by stories of love and loss, of joy and sorrow, but his own story felt… quieter somehow. Content, yes. Peaceful, certainly. But perhaps lacking that spark, that deep, soul-stirring connection the text so eloquently described.

He sat down on a small stool tucked behind a bookshelf, the message still open on his phone screen. He reread it once more, each word painting a vivid picture in his mind. He could almost feel the California breeze, see the golden sunset, taste the salt air of the Pacific. He could sense the depth of Yn's love, a love that seemed to illuminate the very air around her.

For a long moment, he simply sat there, absorbing the message, letting it wash over him. He felt moved, deeply moved, by the intimacy of this accidental glimpse into someone else's heart. It was a privilege, an unexpected gift of pure, unadulterated emotion.

He knew he should respond, let Yn know she had the wrong number. But the thought of simply dismissing such a beautiful expression of love felt almost…sacrilegious.

Finally, after a long internal debate, Nicholas typed a reply. His fingers hovered over the keyboard, hesitating. He wanted to be respectful, to acknowledge the beauty of the message without being intrusive or inappropriate.

He typed carefully, thoughtfully, deleting and rewriting until he felt he had captured the right tone.

“Dear Yn, I believe you have the wrong number. However, I felt compelled to reply to say that your message is incredibly beautiful and moving. The depth of your love is palpable, and it truly touched my heart. I hope your ‘Dearest Love’ appreciates how fortunate they are to receive such a heartfelt expression. Wishing you both a very happy anniversary. - Nicholas.”

He hit send, a strange mix of emotions swirling within him. He felt a pang of sadness for the unknown “Dearest Love” who might not fully grasp the gift they were being given, and a quiet yearning for a love like that in his own life. But mostly, he felt a profound sense of… gratitude. Gratitude for the unexpected beauty that had landed in his world, even if it was by mistake.

Back in Santa Monica, Yn waited, a comfortable silence settling into her apartment. She checked her phone occasionally, but there was no reply from Finn. She wasn't worried. She knew he received it. He was probably just soaking it in, overwhelmed in the best possible way.

Then, her phone buzzed. Excitement bubbled within her. Finn! She quickly opened the message, her smile faltering as she read the name at the end: 'Nicholas.'

Confusion wrinkled her brow. Nicholas? She didn't know any Nicholas. She reread the message, her heart sinking with each word. ‘Wrong number.’ ‘Beautiful and moving.’ ‘Touched my heart.’

A wave of mortification washed over her. Oh no. She had sent that message to a complete stranger. Her cheeks flushed crimson. She quickly checked the number she had sent it to. One digit was off. A single, devastatingly wrong digit.

Panic surged through her. She had poured her soul out to… Nicholas. A stranger named Nicholas. What must he think of her? How mortifying!

But as the initial wave of embarrassment subsided, a different emotion began to surface. Curiosity. Nicholas’s reply was… surprisingly kind. He hadn't mocked her, hadn't been creepy. He had simply acknowledged the message, appreciated its sincerity, and wished her well. There was a gentle warmth in his words, a kindness that echoed the very qualities she had described in her message to Finn.

Hesitantly, Yn typed a reply.

“Nicholas, Oh my gosh! I am SO incredibly mortified! Please forgive me. That message was meant for my boyfriend, Finn. I accidentally sent it to the wrong number. I’m so, so sorry to have bothered you with my… overly emotional anniversary text.” She added a flushed-face emoji, hoping to convey her genuine embarrassment.

Within moments, Nicholas replied.

“No bother at all, Yn. Please don’t be mortified. It was truly a lovely message. And honestly, in a world that often feels quite… cynical, it was refreshing to read such genuine affection. No apology necessary. I hope Finn is having a wonderful bachelor party and that you both have a very happy anniversary.”

Yn reread his message, a small smile returning to her lips. He was being so gracious, so understanding. And there was something… charming about his writing style, something that resonated with her own gentle nature.

Emboldened, she decided to push the boundaries just a little.

“Thank you, Nicholas. That’s incredibly kind of you to say. Though I still feel like I’ve just accidentally serenaded a stranger with my love life. Out of curiosity, what do you do, Nicholas? You seem like a very… thoughtful person.”

Nicholas chuckled softly to himself as he read Yn’s message, the ‘serenaded a stranger’ comment bringing a genuine smile to his face. He typed back, his heart feeling inexplicably lighter than it had in hours.

“I work at a bookstore in Pasadena. Surrounded by stories, both real and imagined. Perhaps that’s why I appreciate sincerity when I encounter it. And you, Yn? Besides writing incredibly moving love confessions, what is it that you do?”

And so began an unexpected conversation, born from a mistaken text message and a shared appreciation for kindness and genuine emotion. Over the next few days, Yn and Nicholas traded messages, discovering a surprising amount of common ground. They talked about books and movies, their favorite coffee shops in California, their dreams and aspirations. They found themselves drawn to each other's gentle spirits, their shared warmth and understanding.

Yn still adored Finn, and her anniversary weekend with him, once he returned, was lovely. But a small, quiet corner of her heart had been unexpectedly touched by Nicholas. And Nicholas, in his quiet bookstore in Pasadena, found himself checking his phone more often, a hopeful anticipation fluttering in his chest, waiting for a message from a number he hadn't recognized just days ago, a number that had, quite by accident, illuminated his world with a spark of unexpected, gentle light. The California sun, it seemed, could bring warmth in the most unexpected ways.

[din-miller]

A Little Jive Is Good for You

PAIRING: All Bad Batch Boys x AFAB Reader (gender neutral) no incest/all separate stories

Summary: Reader surprises their partner with a new sex toy called Jive. (It's a wearable g-spot vibrator)

WARNINGS: 18+, sex toy, app controlled sex toy because we fancy here, oral (cunnilingus), fingering, semi public sex (?), tiny bit of angst (sorry echo), thigh fucking, I don't know what phones are called in Star Wars so I'm using device as a placeholder for now, afab, gender neutral reader, all established relationships, tbb headcanons but it's spicy

A/N: I originally wasn't going to write for Crosshair but the setting of the fic didn't work with the others so he made the cut. Congratulations buddy.

Hunter doesn't notice the app at first. It's not until half his Caf is gone, the article he's reading is finished and his thumb swipes back to his home screen that his eyes fall upon the newest icon.

We-vibe

He frowns, never having heard of it before. For a brief second he wonders if he should get Tech to come over and look at it. Make sure it's not a virus or some kind of tracker. But his curiosity gets the best of him. It's probably some kind of prank of Wrecker's. He's done it before. So, Hunter takes his chances and opens the app and he's met with a dark purple background and a bold-all-caps word.

TOYS

Definitely Wrecker's doing.

He hits the play button and it takes him to another purple screen, this time a lighter shade. There's four squares that surround a circle and inside that circle there is a smaller one labelled JIVE.

With a little hesitation Hunter presses on the smaller circle that he's able to move around. He plays with it, swinging it around inside the big circle before moving it to the bottom left square right on top of a little wave symbol.

Three things happen at once. A faint pulsing sound comes from the cockpit followed by a gasp and a wave of arousal – your arousal – hits his nose so hard that his cup falls out of his hand and onto the floor, bouncing a few times as warm Caf spills onto the ship's flooring, but his hands are too busy clenching the table to notice.

His nostrils flair, seeking the smell of your arousal, breathing it in deep inside his lungs and his tongue darts out to taste the air. Sweet and faint, yet it sits on the tip of his tongue and his eyes close, picturing the glistening of your wet pussy, the way your walls flutter around the toy – kriff, what he'd do to have his cock buried deep in your tight cunt.

Hunter breathes out your name, a plea and you're appearing before him naked as the day you were born.

"Ner kar'ta," Hunter swallows, eyes unapologetically locked on your sex, "Look at you, so wet, so beautiful."

You're in front of him now, his head perfectly lined up with your dripping cunt and his fingertips gleefully trail up your thigh stopping just where you ache for his touch.

"Hunter, baby, please!" You beg, desperate and unashamed. He must sense your desperation, because his hand lays flat over your mons pubis and his thumb rests on your outer folds. He doesn't part them, just presses lightly against them.

"I can feel the vibrations," He grunts, eyes falling close, "I can feel the anticipation as it rushes through your body, the need for pressure, for movement against your wet pussy. It calls to me, ner kar'ta."

"Kriff, answer it then!" You growl, pushing his chair away from the table and throwing a leg over his thighs to straddle him. You rock yourself against his clothed sex, seeking friction against the throbbing of your own.

"Very demanding for someone who started this," He reminds you, but his arms wrap around your waist, device forgotten as he helps you move against his cock, "Not complaining though."

You snake a hand down between your bodies to change the vibration with the built in button. This one's stronger and your hips jerk up, separating from Hunter but the clones quick to pull you back down onto his lap.

Slowly, teasingly so, he removes the toy and presses it against your clit with the palm of his hand as his fingers coat themselves in your arousal before sliding into your cunt.

It doesn't take you long to reach your orgasm, in fact it slams into you at full force when Hunter presses against your sweat spot with just the right amount of pressure.

Then his own orgasm stains the blacks he's currently wearing, messy and so fucking hot. He rarely cums in his pants – preferring to do it in or on you – so when he does your ego inflates. At least until Hunter pulls another orgasm out of you.

Echo had figured it was Tech's doing too. His brother is always updating his technology, making sure everything works. He even programmed all the apps and keyboard to be one handed accessible.

Everyone except you and him had gone out for the next few hours, leaving the ship empty and comfortably silent. At least it was silent until Echo's curiosity got the best of him and his thumb started flicking the small circle labelled JIVE around.

He doesn't have heightened senses; he can't hear the toy, can't smell your arousal. It's not until you appear at the cargo holds door way, wide eyes locked onto the device in his hand with a desperate 'please' falling from your lips that he knew the app wasn't Tech's doing.

Echo's heard of apps like this. A way to pleasure your partner hands free. He went down the rabbit hole of sex toys when you and him first became sexually active. A fear of not being able to properly please you with only one hand plagued him night and day until you sat him down and reassured him that he satisfies you plenty.

"Please," You plead once again, crossing your leg over the other one seeking friction against your core as you squeeze your thighs shut, "Echo, kriff, I need more."

Echo's eyes flicker down to your body, clad only in panties, then to the screen in his hand. His thumb gives an experimental slide of the JIVE button and you stumble towards him, a wave of arousal soaking your panties, and without missing a beat you sink into his lap. Echo's dress in just his blacks, his cock straining against the fabric of his pants and the first brush of your sex against his is utter bliss.

His scomp snakes around your waist balancing you on his lap as he awkwardly tries to catch the device in his hand as it slides from his grip, his brain a little too distracted by the whispers of vibration against his cock to have proper coordination to hold the device.

A part of you is begging yourself to move and take off your panties, to free Echo's cock and slide your drenched folds over the wide width of his sex, but as much as you love pussy jobs you can't seem to separate yourself from your husband long enough to take them off.

So instead you unapologetically hump against his clothed cock, moaning when he moans at the feeling of the toy's vibration against his length.

Neither of you last long, which in all honesty is never a disappointment, and thankfully the night is still young and the way your husband is looking at you, you know you'll be sore tomorrow.

Wrecker finds out about the toy by feeling it. You've momentarily forgotten you were wearing it until his fingers found the tail end of the toy as his deft fingers slip into your panties.

Your back is to his chest as he brackets you in with his meaty legs, one hand palming your tit as his hips expertly grind against your ass.

You've spent the day teasing him; dirty flirting, a brief risky flash of your tits – his biggest weakness – just to build up to this moment.

"Aw, mesh'la, did you get a new toy without me?" His fingers blindly feel out the new toy, or at least the part not inside you, until he finds a small raised bump near the end of the toy. His finger settles on the button but doesn't press it, awaiting your consent.

He's always been like that, a big man who will wait hand and knees to get the go ahead. Especially when it comes to sexual activities and new toys. You admire that about him, consent being the key to everything he does, but right now? Right now you want him to hold you against his chest until the vibrations shoot through your core and leave you a sobbing mess.

The need makes you beg without embarrassment, "Press it, kriff, don't tease me!"

The moment the toy activates you're letting out a silent scream, eyes rolling into the back of your head, body arching up and away from Wrecker's chest as the vibrations pulse inside your tight cunt, right snug against your g-spot.

His hand firmly squeezes your tit before pinching your perky nipple, his breath hot against your neck as he gently nibbles against the flesh again and again, leaving marks, claiming what's his.

His finger travels down farther until it reaches his target; your dripping cunt. He coats his finger with your juices before gently guiding it inside you, right behind the back of the toy.

Nothing about Wrecker is small, his fingers are meaty, chunky, and he knows it. With one finger he curls it in into the silicon of the toy, pressing it against your most sensitive area. Your hand shoots out to wrap around his wrists, nails leaving red crested shapes in his flesh and it's all you can do to keep the tears building up at bay.

You can't stop the cry that leaves your mouth as your arousal soaks through your panties and drips onto the mattress below you. Kriff, you didn't even last half a minute before cumming. It's the quickest you've ever finished and you probably should be a little ashamed of how fast it was, but Wrecker's chest vibrates with the loudest moan you've ever heard from him;

"Mesh'la, I'm gonna–,"

"Wait," You shakingly push yourself up farther onto his torso until his cock slides through the opening of your thighs, "Fuck my thighs, baby, let me see you cum."

He groans, needing no further instructions before fucking your thighs, fast. His precum acts like natural lubricant as his cock jerks back and forth, hot and heavy between your thighs.

"Squeeze around my cock, mesh'la." Wrecker grunts breathlessly and you press your thighs together tightly. The toy is still vibrating inside you and you reach down to the built-in button to turn it off, overstimulated.

Wrecker's fingers dig into the flesh of your hips as his release paints your thighs, his cock helplessly twitching between the valley of your legs as he cries out your name.

Once you catch your breath, and can lift a finger, you'll show him the app. Show him how to use it. Maker, you can't wait.

Tech knew right away what the app meant for, his codpiece already becoming too restricting before he even opens the app.

He calls out for you, wanting to see your face as it overcomes with pleasure. Pleasure he's giving you, he's responsible for.

The moment you walk into the room and see his lust filled gaze, app open on his device, you're stripping yourself of your clothing, sitting across from him in the co-pilot's chair, legs spread wide to give him a clear view of your pussy.

He doesn't activate the toy right away, instead he's leaning forward in his chair, eye locked onto your cunt. He's studying the part of the toy he's able to see and you roll your eyes fondly before snapping your fingers together.

His eyes shoot up to yours, swallowing at the blatant need that reflects back at him. It's clear that neither of you will be lasting long. Not this time at least.

"I trust you're smart enough to figure out how to work it." You teasingly trail a hand down your body, ghosting over your sex before retreating back up to your chest to play with your breasts.

"Of course," He huffs, adjusting his goggles, "It's a basic design; clearly fashioned by humans with a basic understanding of technology–,"

With a soft chuckle you bring a hand down to hover over the built in power button, "Then you'd know I can control it with a quick press of the button right here. Really, I don't even need you–oh kriff,"

Your hips jerk up, a surprise moan falling from your lips as the toy buzzes to life inside you and your walls clench around the silicon, "Tech!"

"Too much?"

You shake your head, fingers clenching the arms of your chair, "No, it's good, it feels so good."

Tech hums, eyes once again locked onto your pussy and you know he's silently debating with himself on whether or not to take a holo. You're about to tell him to just take one but all that leaves your mouth is a pathetic whine as the vibrations change to a stronger setting.

Tech's out of his chair and on his knees before you, "I want to taste you."

That's basically all the warning you get before your legs are hooked over his shoulders, his tongue darting out to collect your arousal before spreading it over your clit. He flicks the tip of his tongue over your sex before pulling back, "You're so wet for me."

You nod, eyes rolling back as his mouth returns to your sex, "All you for, Tech. It's all for you."

Crosshair knew instantly that the new app was your doing. You're the only one who knows his passcode. He just didn't know what the app was designed for.

He had ignored it at first, letting most of the day go by before managing to corner Tech and demand his brother tell him what the app was. Of course Tech had simply explained everything about it, but when he went to go turn the toy on Crosshair shoved the barrel of his rifle under the clone's chin. Tech was smart enough to make himself scarce.

Now with the knowledge of what the app was designed for, Crosshair was in control with you willingly at his mercy. He lets you continue your faux innocent act, pretending himself that he hasn't noticed the app.

He'll wait for the opportune moment to arrive. He's a patient man, he's not weak like his brothers. We won't wait on hands and knees for you to come to him and you know that.

The moment comes almost five hours later as he volunteers himself and you to do the supply run Echo and Tech were originally signed too. Hunter had given him a questioning look, obviously wondering why he'd willingly offer to do something he'd usually bitch about doing.

Crosshair had just glared back at his brother and Hunter was smart enough to end any further questions there.

"So," You start, eyeing the man beside you as you walk side by side through the market, "Why us? Echo was relieved to be getting some fresh air, you know. You also hate people, crowds and shopping. Have to admit, I'm a little baffled."

He doesn't look at you but his words are sharp, "You're not an idiot, ner kar'ta."

"I've never claimed to be one, I– oh, you, you wouldn't," You come to a halt, pulling Crosshair with you. Your eyes are wide, full of fear and a building of desperate want, "We're in public, Crosshair."

"Best not make a scene then."

It's not an order, nor a demand, it's a challenge.

One you already know you're going to lose.

But then again this is Crosshair, the man you've spent all day unknowingly giving him a raging hard-on. He's pent up, sexually so, and that's your doing and that doesn't go unpunished.

So it doesn't really come as a surprise that when you're about to cum he turns off the device, denying you of the orgasm you're desperate for.

Because when you do cum, you'll be on your knees, mouth wrapped around his cock. Not here, in a crowded marketplace; not when he can't praise you. Not when he can't taste himself on your lips.

–

Sorry about how roughly Tech's ended. I've never been good at writing cunnilingus. Blow jobs on the other hand I'm a master at but that's mostly because I've spent ten years writing gay porn.

[ravenwriter16]

Creative Minds Think Alike

Episode One---Episode two---Episode three---Episode Four (Here)---Episode Five---Episode Six---Episode Seven

Featuring the Amazing: @kinshenewa

Reminder! If the content creator doesn't approve of how i represented them, or their AUs/OCs then I will edit my work or DELETE it. It's not my intention to mock or belittle anyone's work. This series is supposed to showcase amazing creators!

I do not beta read! YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED!!!!

I stand there in the hallway, my back to the wall with all the windows. Arms crossed and feathers bristling. I tap my foot impatiently while tugging on my collar. My formal wear was tight and uncomfortable, the emblem badge on my chest feeling very heavy as of late.

I look around again, my annoyed expression disappearing whenever some castle residents. I smile and wave at them, my frustration not directed at them. I pull out my pocket watch, clicking the button and watching as the lid flips open. I check the time, tsking and closing it with a flick of my wrist.

“Those Staff Bots are late.”  I grumble, folding my hands behind my back.

My eyes dart to the wall in front of me. Between two doors, was a big movie poster. The caption read ‘Captain Foxy’s Pirate Adventure’. Featuring, of course, Foxy in his pirate ensemble along with pirates Freddy and Bonnie and mermaid Chica.

I smile, snorting in amusement quietly. “I’ll have to check in with the captain one of these days…that reminds me I have to sort through the pirate DCA AU files 1K-854…”

Beeping draws my attention. I slowly turn my head to the right, staring down the two Staff Bots. I raise a brow, “What’s been taking you so long?”

“Moons.” One beeps, the top of its head bearing deep scratches.

I drag a hand down my face, sighing heavily. “Okay. I’ll add ‘Send out proper Staff Bot care instructions’ when I get back to my office. Do you need to go to P&S or can you function?”

They both raise their toolboxes and pull on the rim of their baseball caps.

I smile, stepping forward to rest a hand on their shoulders. “Fantastic. Now, shall we?”

They nod and I pat their shoulder once before stepping towards the poster. I examine it for a moment before reaching up and pressing the fox icon above two crossing swords on his hat. It pushes in with a click and the sound of gears turning and shifting follow after.

“The Creator is already expecting us and we are running late.” I turn my head slightly over my shoulder, “So let’s do the best we can.”

The two give affirmative beeps.

The sounds from the poster cease, and it swings open. I nod my head, snapping my fingers as I step into the room. The Staff Bots follow me in without a second thought. The room starts off as dark then warm hues of purples, yellows, and blues light up the room.

It was a large circular room, with a dome ceiling that looked like it could retract to allow one a view of the sky.  On the floor is a beautiful mosaic of the Sun and the Moon. The tiles shining with the sunlight streaming in from the large windows circling the room. Flowing curtains of purple hand above each window.

Along both sides of the room were hallways that lead to utilities and/or storage. In the center of the main room was a small pillar. On top of this stand was a crystal ball, thick golden and silver threads keeping the orb in place.

“Kinshenewa? Hello? We’re here to fix the pipe leak.”

 The Staff Bots behind me stop while I trek closer to the crystal ball. I reach out and hover my hand over the shining orb. Images float to the surface, but none of them were of the Creator I was looking for.

“Hello?” A voice calls out.

I look up, not able to stop the blood from draining my face. In front of me was the Celestial Jester known as Sun. His blue eyes spot us and the frills around his head flutter. He claps his hands together as he saunters over.

“You must be the crew Cadence hired.” Sun gives a small bow, “I am Council Member Sun. And you are?”

“Archivist Number 16 Ravenwriter. But you may call me Raven.” I return his bow with one of my own.

I straighten up and gesture to the Staff Bots, “I hope you do remember the policy regarding the help?”

Sun pouts, “Yes…I don’t know why though.”

I level him with a stern stare, “Because all you DCA variants think it’s funny to destroy the people keeping the castle running.”

Sun laughs, “Oh yes…It was very fun last get-together.”

“For YOU. I, on the other hand, had a MOUNTAIN of paperwork that took me WEEKS to finish.” I shudder, wings puffing up.

Sun perks up, finally laying eyes on my wings. I don’t like the look he was giving me or how his hands twitched. I clear my throat, “Um…KINSHENEWA?!”

A clattering sound could be heard from the hall to the left. “Coming! Coming!”

I heave a sigh of relief. Stepping into the main room was a six-foot tall woman. She drags one hand through her wavy brown hair. When she turns, I can see that some of her hair was shaved on the left side, leaving the strands to be too short compared to the other side, but long enough to be tucked behind her ear.

She was wearing a pair of black, jean shorts and a black t-shirt. The clothing fitting and showcasing her built body. Her black shoes leaving small wet puddles as she steps into the room.

Her hazel eyes find mine. She breathes out a relived sigh, “Raven?”

“That’s me. So sorry to bother you, but we’re here for the pipe burst you reported. Could you please point to the bathroom?” I tilt my head with a smile.

“Yeah. I just came from there.” She jabs a finger behind her shoulder, “Right down there.”

I snap my fingers and the Staff Bots zoom away, beeping as they speed down the hall. I pull out my pocket watch and check the time, “Should be done in no time, Miss Cadence.”

“Thank you! I cannot take another day of Eclipse complaining about what the water does to his electricity…” She shakes her head the looks to Sun, “When will he be back again?”

Sun tilts his head, holding his chin, “Should be around dinner time. Something about a big bounty he couldn’t pass up.” He waves his hand dismissively.

Cadence looks back at me, “Do you want to sit down while you wait?”

I smile, “Yes please!”

I follow her to the couches in the middle of the room. The pillows being stars, moons, and suns. Even some plushies of the Daycare Attendant were there. I take my seat on one of the couches, sitting between a Moon plushie and a sun-themed pillow.

Sun and Cadence take the couch opposite of me. Sun pulling Cadence into his lap and nuzzling the top of her head. Cadence looks me up and down.

“I’m sorry, but have we ever met before?”

I shake my head, “Not that I’m aware of. But in your defensive, I have been held up in the office and…peeling alien potatoes…”

Sun wrinkles his nose, “Is THAT what that smell is?”

I grimace, “Yes…”

The door to the room opening, draws all our attention. Moon steps in, carrying a few books in his arms as he closes the door behind him with a sigh. When he turns around, he stills upon seeing me.

He looks to Sun for answers. Sun smiles, “She’s here for the busted pipe.”

“Oh.” Moon nods his head, walking closer, “You mean the one you broke because you were trying to fix it yourself?”

“HEY! I wasn't the one who thought flushing an ENTIRE roll of toilet paper was a good idea for an experiment!"

“By the way,” Cadence ignores them both as they argue back and forth. The jester’s voices loud but I could still make out her voice. “Will this cost anything?”

“Nothing at all!” I reassure. “But I will need you to review and sign some documents. Nothing big, just stating that if our services were unsatisfactory then we’ll send another maintenance crew by to fix our mistakes.”

“Sounds great! Ompf! SUN!” She swats at Sun’s hands, which were squishing her face into his chest. Moon was now on the couch, pulling one of her arms closer to him.

She was literally in caught in a tug-a-war.

I raise a brow, “Is this normal?”

“Sadly, yes…” her sigh was defeated, showing her resign to her fate. Cadence looks over at her shoulder, eyeing the hall were the sounds of drills whirling and metal clinking echo from. Moon succeeds in stealing her away from his brother, smirking victoriously.

Sun pouts, standing, “Fine! I’ll prepare some mash-potatoes then!”

He huffs as he turns on his heels and heads to the other hall way.

I smile, “That reminds me, we received another shipment of Sundrops and Moondrops. When would you like us to deliver it to your room?”

“Anytime is okay with me. Was there any difficulty with the shipment?” She reaches up and scratches the spot under Moon’s chin.

“We encountered a Troll trying to sneak in past the gates, but he’s been neutralized and some of our Y/n Placeholders are dealing with him as we speak. There is no need to worry.”

“A Troll huh? How many does that make today?” she tilts her head.

“Twenty-Three…” I sigh, leaning back against the couch. “They’re relentless…”

Cadence snarls, baring her teeth while clenching her fists tightly. Moon growls as well, feeling his creator’s anger. I can feel her Auora pulsate from her, feeling like a ton of bricks were weighing down on my chest. A bright purple light surrounds her and takes over her eyes.

Trolls were no laugh matter. They can sneak into the castle at any time and cause unnecessary chaos. They wreck anything they can get their hands on. Painting their sludge over Creator’s paintings and drawings. Adding hate notes when they find written scrolls. They trash rooms or steal supplies.

They were pests.

“By the way.” I stand up and dig a small pouch of ruby hearts out of my pocket. I hand it to Moon, who takes it and gives it to Cadence. “This is on behalf of the Council of the Aligned Society of Creative Minds. They thank you for letting them hire Eclipse to hunt down some wanted Frauds.”

She calms down, the lights fading and her eyes returning to her normal color. I even feel the weight on my chest rise.

“No problem.” She smiles, taking the bag, “Please feel free to call on him anytime.”

“Will do!” I smile.

The Staff Bots roll out, beeping affirmatively before wheeling to the door and exiting. I nod my head, looking back at Cadence, who was now on her feet.

She walks me to the door, “Thank you again for your help.”

“Anytime! Oh!” I stop for a second, “I also wanted to tell you that the castle is hosting a gala in a few days. Would it be okay if you could help me gather some things for the theme?”

She crosses her arms, “That depends? What’s the theme.”

I laugh, “Celestial Dreams~. Or so I’m told…”

“Sound’s fun, I’m in!” She smiles, patting my back.

I wince at her strength, wings shooting up. She opens the door, and I step out.

“Have a great rest of your week!” I bow in farewell.

“You too!” She waves.

“Sweetling?! I have the mash potatoes!” Sun calls out

She perks up and takes off running, the door slowly closing behind her. I wait to make sure the door is securely closed. I smile at the echoing of the lock clicking in place.

I turn and walk down the hall. I pull out a Sundrop that I had swiped from the bowl near the door. I unwrap it and pop the orange treat in my mouth.

I smile, humming to myself. “Yum!”

***

That's Episode four! Thank you again @kinshenewa for letting me use you and your AMAZING Celestial Jesters AU. If you guys haven't read it, go check it out!

Sorry if this fic was hard to follow! But I had a lot of fun writing it and talking with @kinshenewa regarding her room and her AU!

Thank you for reading and I hope you enjoyed yourself! Have an Amazing Day or Night!

[danses-with-dogmeat]

J is for -- John Hancock

Well, here's a classic for y'all. I know Hancock is always in these things, but really, if he didn't deserve it, he wouldn't be here. He's a charismatic ghoul, what can I say? I fell for him the same as so many others probably including you 👀 So I'd be lying if I said I wasn't happy he's here 😊

But no matter how you feel about the esteemed mayor of Goodneighbor, I hope you all like this one! 😁

And here is the 2k event masterlist, for your browsing pleasure!

--

Pair: John Hancock x M!Sole

Dialogue: “What are we doing?”

Word: Joining.

Rating: NSFW

Category: Fluff

Word Count: 1.4k

“Jesus, Hancock…” Sole breathed into him, feeling like a boy just turned 18.

The way they were fumbling over each other in the VIP room of the Third Rail, like horndog teenagers under the bleachers at a football game, it had his blood pumping and his heart fluttering just the same way.

“Fuck, keep sayin’ my name, Sunshine…” The ghoul growled, in that smokey, gruff voice that had chills shooting up Sole's spine. 

“Yes, John. I will, just, ah—” Sole gasped at the way John’s teeth scraped over the side of his throat, the sting of pain only adding to the bubbling pleasure coming from deep within his gut. Every muscle in his body tensed at the feel of Hancock rubbing up against him, those wiry hands grasping at his tight-as-sin (as Hancock put it) vault suit like the fabric was his last tether to reality. 

Hell, after all they done tonight? Maybe it was.

Hancock was no stranger to chems, to say the absolute least, but all the substances the pair had abused together tonight were of a more… liquid nature. Whitchapel Charlie had cut them off a while ago, as if that would stop the Mayor of Good–times from drinking his fill of sickly sweet cocktails. 

“Just don’t stop…” Sole finally managed the words just before his lips became occupied with something a bit more physical. 

John’s lips were as addictive as the chems that so often passed between them. The subtle roughness of them, the flavor, sweet and smokey, the way they moved so skillfully, like an artist's paint brush over the blank canvas that Sole felt like in comparison. 

“Kiddin’ me?” Hancock said between kisses, “Never dream of it, baby. Been thinkin’ of this too damn long. Been needing it.” 

The sound of his zipper being pulled down registered before the feeling of his chest becoming exposed to the stagnant bar air, but Sole hardly missed a beat as he helped the ghoul shove the vault suit from his shoulders and pull his arms free from the sleeves. 

Hancock’s midnight eyes flashed to the new territory Sole’s actions exposed, 'conquer' written plain and fierce in his expression as his lips dove to smother his partner’s chest with wet, open-mouthed kisses. 

Sole could only groan.

Only groan, and use his free hands to begin the process of undressing his partner in return. Hastily, he moved to undo the buttons of Hancock’s shirt, grateful that the ghoul’s iconic hat and coat were already removed in the warm fervor prior to this. 

Almost on instinct, it seemed, Hancock pulled away briefly to tug the shirt from his torso, and deftly returned his attentions to Sole’s chest, stilling the ex-vault-dweller where he sat with the way his lips moved over him. 

He was like an animal, his hands caressing every inch of the firmness of Sole’s chest, smoothing down to his abdomen while his lips followed soon after, leaving a trail of love bites and hickeys all the way to his hip bones, where the suit had caught and refused to lower without Sole rising to aid the fabric downward. 

The ghoul didn’t even need to say it, not with words, anyway. His eyes practically shouted the question from their dark depths. 

‘May I?’

“Please, John…” Sole pleaded, and though his eyes likely said just as much, he figured voicing his desperation for the ghoul couldn’t hurt his case. 

Hancock quirked a brow. 

‘Please, what?’ the expression asked cheekily. 

“Please, just… touch me, put your mouth on me more, just… fuck me, John.” Sole could feel himself warming at the crude request, and in such a public place too… Even the thought of it made his ears burn, his stomach flip. 

Despite the nerves though, and despite that giddy, thrilling feeling rising in his chest, he could feel his body’s enthusiasm for the idea growing ever harder in the tightness of his briefs. 

Apparently it affected Hancock just as much, if the groan he released was anything to go by. 

“Baby, you’ll be screamin’ my name so loud, they’ll hear you clear across to Diamond City.” He promised with a growl. 

Sole felt his cock awaken fully at that, giving an excited jerk. 

The alcohol had given him the bravery to finally make his move with Hancock physically, but now, his mind couldn’t be more clear. 

Sole wanted him.

Carnally.

“Those squares won’t know what hit ‘em, when they hear you…” Hancock’s voice trailed off. His hands stilled on Sole’s hips, and he found himself bucking forward desperately into the ghoul’s touch, begging for more. 

“When, when I… Shit.” 

Sole’s eyes cracked open in time to see the way Hancock shook his head, the way his brows creased above his downcast eyes, lost in thought. 

“E-everything okay?” 

“Nah…” Hancock whispered, “Nah, it’s, fuck… Sunshine, what are we doing? What am I doing?” 

Hancock sat back on his heels in between Sole’s spread knees, his hands sliding down from his partner’s hips to the tops of his thighs. 

“W-what do you mean?” Sole sat up as he asked him. 

“Just… I been waiting ages to be with you like this. Been pining an’ shit, really falling for you, ya know?” 

Sole could only blink, his eyes wide as drink coasters. 

“Now to just… Jump into it, an’ after we been drinking an’ all. Jus’ doesn’t seem right to me, Sunshine. You mean more to me than that.” 

“I… I do?” Sole’s mind began to sober up quickly at the sound of those words, that pleasant buzz replaced with wonder and… anxiety? 

Anxiety that he doesn’t really mean this, and this is just the drink talking, or anxiety that he does and I’ve wasted so much damn time?

He hoped it was the latter. He’d feel like a fool, but at least it’d mean another fool was in love with him. A fool he was in love with in return… 

And isn't that the best kind?

Dammit, still not sober enough to think in proper sentences, or logical thoughts. 

“You ain’t been payin’ much attention, have ya Sunshine?” Hancock smiled genuinely, pulling Sole from his foggy head and back to this thrilling reality. It was a dangerous thing, too… as John looked awfully kissable just now. 

But Sole had to fight that urge. Just for this moment, at least.

“Guess I was too busy thinking that I was being too obvious…” 

Sole’s words were met with a quirked brow from their companion. He took that as a cue to continue on. 

“When I didn’t know how you felt, before now, I mean, I… I didn’t think I had much of a chance with you, honestly.” 

“Not a chance?” Hancock scoffed, “Sole, you’re… I mean, you’re like a prince charming, you know? You’re two good deeds shy of perfect. You got the face of one of those moving picture stars on the old posters, and you think you ain’t gotta chance with this ugly mug? You crazy?” 

“Ugly mug?” Sole’s head shook in disbelief, “You’ve gotta be the one who’s kidding. I could hardly breathe the first time I saw you.” 

“That’s cuz I stabbed the guy you were chattin' with.” 

“No.” Sole refused to budge on this, despite the humorous quip, “Look, Hancock-- John, you mean more than anything to me. No one’s ever made me feel like this, made a fool of me the way you have from the start, if... what you say about your feelings for me are true.” 

“It’s all true, Sunshine.” He whispered in that rough voice of his, and Sole felt goosebumps prickle up the still-bare skin of his torso. “I’m in deep, and this? What we were doin’ just now? Most thrilling moment of my fucking life, but… maybe we oughtta do this right, you know?” 

“Oh, c’mon, Mr. Mayor.” Sole leaned forward, till his nose brushed over the hollow space where John’s used to be. “What do we know about what’s right?” 

Hancock couldn’t resist his companion’s proximity, as he leaned forward to capture his grinning lips in a sweet kiss. 

Sole could tell he was still holding himself back, but even so, Hancock's kiss stole his breath away like the first time he laid eyes on him.

“Now, me?” The ghoul rasped as he pulled away, leaving Sole to lean forward, hungry for more. “I don’t know nothin’ ‘bout what all’s right and proper. But you, baby, you do.”

The ghoul scooted forward at that, his hands sliding dangerously up Sole’s thighs to grasp at the ruffled fabric of his vault suit. 

“So… Why don’t you tell me what you think's right about all this, and we’ll just go from there?” 

[dancepartyaroundthefairyring]

Idea: batman knows the leagues secrete identity's and they don't know his and they're (Hal and Iliver mostly) kinda passed. Because of course Mr. Needstoknoweverything went and stalked them and found out and is gonna lord it over them

But no, actually, Bruce has just met them all pre-hero meeting and they're all just a lil bad at hiding it like

Hal - met this test pilot when WE was partnering with Ferris Air once, kinda cocky and a loudmouth, but overall good at what he did. Around the time the partnership was ending he heard the pilot was missing, tried his best to help cause, ya know, world's greatest detective. But couldn't come up with anything. Then bam there's this glowing green space cop in the same city, really into jets, same kinda cocky loudmouth (Hal does not change how he talks or acts in or out if the suit)

Barry - little harder but maybe another partnership with Wayne tech where Barry was working. Was doing a tour and met this ultra smart guy working there. He was still young so B keeps an eye on him in so he could maybe offer him a job later on down the line. Hears the guy got hit by lightning and then bam a speedster is running around the city

Oliver - went to high-school together. Weren't very close but still friends, B knee Ollie was always amazing with a bow, amazing shot. Drifted apart after high school but when the Green Arrow first shows up he knows. Also. The facial hair. Its just very distinctive. At this point B is just wondering how no one else has pointed that out

Dinah - met her at a gala, Ollie interduced them. Was at their wedding. It wasn't hard to connect her to Black Canary when he already knew Ollie was green arrow

Clark - it was an interview. Superman was already becoming pretty well known, at least the suit was becoming iconic. Though The Bat and Supes had yet to meet. Clark rushes in a bit disheveled (he had just been heroing and thought he'd be late for the interview) except he's actually early and only B is there. Clark had missed a button on his shirt and that iconic S was just peaking out of this very buff black haired reporter so B pulled out the full Brucie on him and "fixed" his tie, fluttering Clark who doesn't notice B discretely and secretly fixing the shirt to hide the S

Diana, Arthur, and John don't have secrete identities really so they don't count

[missamyrisa2]

More Magic Box Chicanery

I find myself stumbling in my stride as I feel the fuzzy flutter of the Magic Box app opening on my tickler's phone. "Oh no..." I murmur, people passing me by in the mall casually curiously glancing over when I misstep. The scan tingles over my body sending the relative sensitivity levels back. That breezy moment of anticipation only gives me precious seconds to anticipate as their wicked teasing fingers thoughtfully flutter over the cute pulsing icons for sensations to send at a zone.

I can sense their smirk from far away even as I make my tummy taut and stiffen my thighs~ which does little good when the feeling of fluttery long nails glide lightly up my sides. "mmmh. Hmmmmmm~ excuse me" I try to stifle with a fake cough, humming as I step aside past a couple. My cheeks flare pink, my legs already weakening. They see my defiance, my attempts to cover what they're doing to my body and respond in kind ~ the adorable wiggling makeup brush icon is dragged over my navel in a circular motion~

"FFf~ nnnhht~ not the blushhhherrr~" I hiss, those words appearing on the transcription of my tickler's app. With a grin they pinch out and pinch in on my face in the program, sending two taunting blush brush sensations to my cheeks and accentuate the growing pink hue on my skin. I stomp forward, my locomotion captured by the sensors. Pinchy fingers attack behind my knees, the display illuminating how my legs quiver and protest. I stumble and brace myself against a long window pane, the proprietor of the accessory shop inside regarding me with a sassy glare. I try to explain wordlessly, pointing to various parts of my body~ which goes about as well as one might expect.

I try to wiggle myself away and look natural, and naturally, I look possessed by an evil force particularly as I start slipping cackling giggles. My phone buzzes furiously in my pocket, as if the vibrations had just been upgraded tenfold. I frantically reach for it and just as its face is shown, the speaker screams to life ~ cleverly hijacked by the magic box app to make use of a text to speech app. "Coochie coo, giggle bug~!" the robotic voice calls out. Behind me I sense a growing crowd.

The girl from the shop is following intently but at a distance. Her modest long dress and uptight ponytail swish and bounce while she makes a phone call. My tickler breaks my long legged pace by sending rubbing thumbs to my sides and a feather duster to my back. The brisk rotations have me screaming out in laughs, twisting side to side frantically clawing at nothing. When I stumble and slide across the smooth cold floor my shirt rides up and immediately the virtual thumbs are relocated to my hips as they become exposed. I buck in what appears to be a suggestive motion. The proprietress is outraged, shaming me with a wagging finger. Bystanders are equal parts horrified, smirking, and curious~ "Tickle tickle tickle~!" the text to speech reads out ~ it could have been used to prove what was happening to me, but no one but me could hear such things over my own laughs!

"Pleease stop please you don't know what you're doing to me no no nonoo moree~!" I beg to the air, my words scrolling across the magic box as my tickler purses lips and shortcuts to the royal zones. Feathers are sent to my royal chest buttons. I arch my back and thrash, trying to shake them loose. The ultra soft teasing sensation tickles incessantly, teases me into gasping giggles. The dreaded single finger tickle is sent to my most royal area, first tracing my inner thighs with a slow stride. "DON'TTT TICKLE ME THEREEE~!!" I hear myself shriek between my breathless high pitched laughs.

My legs open and close and kick and squeeze. The tickles never stop. Every twitchy reaction and dramatic exasperation is relayed back for their amusement. "Yes, definitely there. Cute gigglebugs deserve to be tickled. And taunted. And teased. And bullied. And edged. Always." The robotic voice stipulates, before devolving into cutesy tickle sounds, something like wiiddawiddawooooo before being entirely lost in the rising noises between myself, the crowd, and a now hysterical storekeeper.

The single finger tickle migrates up, and begins tracing and stroking my royal part. I plead and beg, I grasp at my chest and my legs. "NOT THE QUEEN PARTTTTT~" I whimper loudly, writhing on the ground as a swarm of sensations are summoned. A blusher teases the tip, barely touching. Two bullet vibes trade off gliding under the head. The slow moving oiled up hand grasps the base and barely moves. An affectionate other hand is gently massaging the royal jewels. And a feather fills in the gaps, occasionally taking over each location when the tool retracts for a moment to fly up and tease my bouncing navel. My royal chest buttons aren't left out as lingering lover kisses are sent to make out ~ and a final set of kisses are sent right to my own lips, brushing ever so lightly. My tickler just knows how to hot wire me into madness ~

My queen part throbs and aches for release, and for the time sees none. The prominence of my royal part in my snug bottoms is all too obvious. The crowd watches and "oooooohs!" as it looks like I might reach the conclusion, casting their disappointment when the sensations retreat and leave me to suffer the tingle, barely able to get a word out. The accessory girl watches but also converses rapidly on her phone, her high ponytail bouncing in judgement. My tickler is simply enjoying how my royal part twitches and trembles, leaving the edge protocol on automode~

And despite the promises of endless edging, the ticklegasm is indeed doled out after endless rounds of rising my arousal to the peak and letting it tumble back in gigglegaspy agony. The single kiss given to the deathspot under my tip triggers the soft ticklecum, sending my body into writhing convulsions, gasping to the sky and grasping my face as I cannot believe I've just been made to put on such a climactic performance for this crowd. The magic box, my tickler, has made me cum right here on the floor of the mall for at least twenty bystanders and a very judgemental store owner.

The next moments are a blur. The magic box continues to taunt, sending loving kisses at my belly and sides and neck. Feathers flutter all over my royal parts to milk out the remnants of my ticklecum. But I'm being rushed, moved hurriedly back on my path. Robed figures are hustling my steps, the modest girl follows aside and is frantically explaining to them. Moments later as my fuzzy haze begins to fade, I find myself in the back room of the shop, seeing the shiny girly accessories as the owner slams the gate down and slaps the lights off.

I'm weakened by my forced ticklegasm, but even without that I know the strength of these robed masked people would be too great to fight. My clothes fly off in their hands, pulled and tossed carelessly. They put me into a chair and fold my legs up, strapping my ankles into place and my arms over my head so that I sit bound with my legginess compacted and my royal area totally exposed. I can only assume my tickler watches with bated breath ~ they can't see what approaches me now but they will know soon enough.

I shriek in madness, trying desperately to pull loose from the chair. The leader of the group flexes their fingers and pulls on gloves as the modest girl grins and pours excessive amounts of lubricant onto their fingers. "We'll get all that evil out of you now" she skitters around like a mouse, testing the bindings and nodding as those masterful looking fingers of the master float down and seize my quivering queen part. I groan and moan out, pleading that I'm already spent, I already came.

"We have to get it all. All of it now."

And my voice reaches a new volume when a finger wiggles and slides to my tush, gliding up and finding my honeyspot. Incredibly, my resolve holds and I only grow slightly aroused. The master looks to the girl as she all to quickly seals my fate. "Try tickling~"

The finger starts moving in a rapid motion. It teases me beyond measure, that finger mercilessly stroking and refusing to let go as my queen is squeezed and milked. My tickler surely watches with the utmost amusement as to what their tickles have led me into now, I can sense the magic box is still open. I'm screaming with laughs now gigglemoaning to the heavens~ my sounds drift gently out of the closed shop and soon to be closed mall. "All of it~"

[skia-inc]

flutter steps :

Last week work:

SECTION 1: Getting Started with Flutter :

1.1 - Course Overview

1.2 - Flutter Installation

1.3 - Creating Your First Flutter App

1.4 - Introduction to Flutter UI Widgets

1.5 - Organizing Flutter Code

1.6 - Working with Logic in Flutter

SECTION 2: Building User Interfaces :

2.1 - Understanding Stateless Widgets

2.2 - Adding Images in Flutter

2.3 - Adding Icons in Flutter

2.4 - Creating Containers in Flutter

2.5 - Working with Buttons

2.6 - Implementing an Appbar

2.7 - Using Row, Column, and Expanded Widgets

2.8 - Creating ListViews and ListView.builder

2.9 - Implementing a Navigation Drawer

2.10 - Adding a Floating Action Button

2.11 - Working with the Stack Layout Widget

2.12 - Creating Custom Widgets

SECTION 3: Managing State and Navigation:

3.1 - Introduction to Stateful Widgets

3.2 - Navigation in Flutter (Push and Pop)

3.3 - TextFields and TextFormFields

3.4 - Implementing Checkboxes

3.5 - Using Radio Buttons

3.6 - Working with Dropdown Buttons

3.7 - Building a Complete Form Flutter App