#but s'okay he looks good in all of them

[tojigasm]

I'm imagining how Logan letting you see his claws up close for the first time would go and like not to be too tmi, but I do think Logan's claw slits would be soooo sensitive.

I could imagine him not really holding hands with you or letting you get too close to his hands in general until the two of you have progressed past something superficial.

The first time he lets you even get near his hands is when the two of you are lying in his bed. Your back pressed to his chest and his chin resting atop your head.

You've got one of his hands held by both of yours, running your fingers over his blue veins and tracing the divets and scars of his skin.

"How'd you get this one?" You ask, running your thumb over the rough line of skin, tilting your head up against his chin some.

His other hand momentarily stops its path where he'd been smoothing it down the soft of your arm.

"Think I was cutting up an apple," he jokes.

The two of you burst into a fit of giggles and he presses a kiss to the side of your temple, moving to speak before he's suddenly caught off with a moan so low you almost weren't sure what it was at first.

Logan doesn't even seem as though he's noticed as his brows remain furrowed and his body relaxed beneath you.

"What was that?" You turn to him, brows arched. You know he can already read the scheming expression written over your features.

Wordlessly, he pops his neck as he moves his hand upwards towards your face, pulling your hands along with it.

Balling his hand into a fist, he turns his knuckles towards you.

Your eyes catch on three small slits between each of his digits, only about half and inch or so long.

Cautiously, you run the tip of your finger down the length of one, earning a shiver from the man beneath you.

"Does it hurt?" You say quietly, nearly a whisper. Almost as if speaking too loud would startle the riveting atmosphere of the room.

You feel him shake his head 'no' behind you before he says gently, "feels good."

You give a slow nod at that, eyes glued to his knuckles.

"Can I touch them again?" You ask after a quiet moment passes.

Logan hums from behind you, "Go ahead."

You're careful in the amount of pressure you apply as you gently stroke the tips of your finger down each slit, relishing in the soft hums earned by the man behind you.

You can feel Logan's eyes watching you – as if equally enthralled with your newfound fascination of his mutation.

He lets you enjoy the delicate nature of it. A man so brutally threatening and deemed almost wild for the majority of his life subdued by something so seemingly trivial about the very thing that labeled him dangerous in the first place.

It's sweet to him.

"D'like it?" Your voice pulls him from his haze.

He seems to mull over his response, unfurling his hand to flex all five fingers in a spread palm.

"S'okay," he offers before unsheathing his claws, letting you look them over.

The lights from his room add a sparkle to their sharp tips, and for a moment, he finds his loathed despotion for them to be almost futile.

"They're pretty." You comment, meeting his hazel eyes in the metallic reflection of them.

He scoffs, "That's just cus' you're lookin' at yourself in 'em."

You feel him reach towards his beer on the nightstand. "I mean it." You click your tongue.

It's a sensitive topic for him, you know that.

Logan takes a swig of his beer, taking another look at his claws. He turns his hand back and forth before retracting them with a 'Shing!'

"Well, in that case," he flicks your temple with a chuckle, "Thank you."

"Can I see them again?" You pull his hand back into your own.

With a sigh, Logan unsheathes his claws for you again.

He takes another swig of his beer, mumbling "Brat."

[reidsfilm]

LIKE A GODDAMN PRAYER — LOGAN HOWLETT

WARNINGS: SMUT!!! (18+) age-gap (the reader is over 18+) p in v (wrap it up peeps) dirty talk, soft dom! logan, has no plot whatsoever, just straight-up filth petnames: baby, sweetheart, angel, darling, etc. fluff at the end. a tad bit of degarding.

WORD COUNT : 2k

Notes: i'm just now realizing how hot hugh jackman is.

Logan Howlett who swore he wouldn't stain a beautiful thing like you. With your sweet smiles, wide eyes, and flushed apple cheeks. He wouldn't, but the allure of you was too tempting.

And a visit to give him a basket of cookies led to something that couldn't be erased. But now, he wasn't sure if he wanted it removed at all.

Here you were, laying sprawled out underneath him, clothes strewn in piles on the floor, only a pair of white lacy panties covering your sweet pussy. God, it made his boxers feel all the tighter like they were suffocating him, literally and figuratively.

''Look at you... so pretty for me, huh?'' He cooed as his large and rough hand came up to grope at your tits, watching as they spilled between the gaps of his fingers. His eyes darkened further at the sight. A whiny moan left your lips as you wriggled underneath him, pushing your chest up, seeking more.

''S'okay... I got you. Gonna make you feel real good, darlin'.'' And you could only manage a whine, unable to form any words, your tongue feeling heavy in your mouth. Logan tsked at you, head tilting to the side as he looked at you, eyes flickering from your flushed chest back up to your face, ''Haven't even fucked you yet, and your already going dumb?''

You nodded, slotting your bottom lip between your teeth, and Logan practically growled at the sight as his hand moved down, caressing your ribs, over your stomach, fingertips grazing against your belly button before moving lower.

Your breath hitched as he teased at the waistband of your panties, not quite going further and that made you only feel more desperate, and needy. ''These are cute. Did you wear them on purpose?'' He questioned, snapping it against your skin and eliciting a moan from your lips. ''Answer me, pretty angel.''

The nicknames were doing nothing to help the ache between your legs, instinctively making you rub your thighs together. ''Y-Yeah...'' You replied and he hummed.

''Can I take 'em off?'' And you wasted no time in nodding, bobbing your head up and down. God if you weren't so deeply rooted in this, you would've found yourself pathetic. And maybe you were, but you couldn't care less. You just wanted him. Like he was the answer to all your prayers. Someone you wouldn't think twice about listening to or worshipping.

You were a hundred percent sure this man was a God.

''Yeah, yeah please.'' You were quick to say and Logan didn't need more confirmation than that before he shuffled down a bit. His large hands planted on each side of your hips, ''Lift your hips f'me.'' And you did as he said, lifting up a bit from the soft mattress and allowing him to grip onto the material, dragging it down.

And he did it, oh so slowly. Tease.

''Logan...'' You whined as you watched him, how he kept those hazel eyes locked on your own pair as he tugged them down. ''Patience is a virtue.'' And you wanted to roll your eyes at the words as if you hadn't heard those before. You weren't in the mood for patience, not at all.

You just wanted him to fuck you until you could barely think straight.

''I'm not a patient person.'' You muttered as he slid them down to your ankles, before tossing them somewhere on the floor. His eyes met yours once more, ''Figures.'' He chuckles as he moves closer, grabbing underneath your thighs, and spreading your legs.

His eyes feast upon the sight of your glistening and awaiting pussy. His hazel eyes darken a tad as he takes you in. The prettiest thing he's ever laid his eyes upon, and he almost feels ashamed for a split second. A man like him, who's brutal and lives within the darkness of his life, seeing something so eternal like you, it feels illegal.

Like you a forbidden fruit he shouldn't even have laid eyes on to begin with. But your voice pulls him from the depths of his mind.

''Something wrong? Am I not—'' He doesn't even let you finish your sentence, because god forbid something as angelic as you get to be insecure about yourself. ''No... no no. Just admiring the pretty sight laid before me.''

And you blush at his words, biting your lip. ''Yeah? Well if it's such a pretty sight, fuck me.'' You tried to sound confident, you really did. But the crack in your voice, the obvious desire yet nervousness was extremely evident.

And Logan was quick to catch onto it, a smirk gracing his lips, spurring the man on leaving any regret or anything like that behind as he dragged you closer to him by your thighs, making you let out a small squeal. ''Oh, I'll fuck you. Gonna make this pussy sing, yeah?''

He had a silver tongue on him, that's for sure. And it only made you wetter, if that was even possible. His hand slid down between your legs, making you shiver as his thick fingers inched closer to where you needed him most. And you spread your legs wider, opening up more for him.

Logan's rough, calloused fingers brushed against your slick folds, feeling the heat radiating from your core. He groaned at the sensation, his own desire rising rapidly. "Fuck, you're so wet for me already, darlin'," he growled, his voice thick with lust.

You whimpered, arching your back as Logan's fingers teased your entrance, not quite entering you but applying delicious pressure. "Please, Logan," you pleaded, your voice breathy and needy. "I need you."

Logan chuckled darkly, his eyes smoldering as he took in the sight of you sprawled out before him, your body on display, your breasts heaving with each shallow breath.

Logan's fingers continued their torturous teasing, circling your entrance without delving inside. He leaned down, his stubble grazing against the sensitive skin of your inner thighs as he pressed open-mouthed kisses along your legs.

"Patience, sweetheart," he murmured against your skin, his hot breath sending shivers up your spine. "I wanna savor this moment with you. Make it good for you."

You whined, your hands fisting in the sheets beneath you as you tried to arch into Logan's touch. "Logan, please," you begged, your voice high and desperate. "I can't take it anymore. I need you inside me."

Logan hummed, the vibrations traveling through your body. "So impatient," he chided, but there was no real disapproval in his tone. "Alright, darlin', I'll give you what you want."

He got to removing his boxers, and you swore your eyes were about to pop out of their sockets at the sight of him. His cock was so thick, fat, and decorated with veins. He was definitely a god, no going back on that now.

He shifted, positioning himself between your spread legs. You could feel the heat radiating off his body, could see the hunger in his eyes as he looked down at you. "You're fuckin' beautiful like this," he said, his voice low and rough. "Spread out for me, so eager for my cock."

You blushed at his words, but the embarrassment was quickly overshadowed by the desire coursing through your veins. You needed him, needed to feel him inside you, needed to be filled and stretched and claimed by this man who had captured your heart, soul, and body.

Logan reached down, grasping his hard length in his hand. He stroked himself a few times, his eyes never leaving your face. "You ready for me, baby?" he asked, his thumb swiping over the sensitive head of his cock, spreading the bead of pre-cum that had gathered there.

You nodded frantically, your body trembling with anticipation. "Yes," you breathed. "God, yes, Logan. Please, just fuck me already."

Logan chuckled, positioning himself at your entrance. "As you wish," he said, and then he was pushing forward, his thick length sliding into your slick heat inch by inch.

You cried out, your head falling back against the pillow as you felt Logan fill you up. He was so big, stretching you most deliciously, and you could feel every ridge and vein of his cock as he sank deeper and deeper inside you.

Logan groaned as he felt your tight warm heat envelop him, your walls clenching around his shaft as he bottomed out inside you. "Fuck, darlin'," he grunted, his hips stilling for a moment as he savored the sensation. "You're so fuckin' tight."

You whimpered beneath him, your hands coming up to grip his shoulders, your nails digging into his skin. "Logan," you gasped, your hips rocking slightly as you adjusted to his size. "You're so big. I can feel you everywhere."

Logan chuckled breathlessly, his forehead pressing against yours as he began to move, pulling out slowly before thrusting back in. "That's it, baby," he encouraged, his voice low and rough. "Take my cock. Fuck, you feel so good."

You moaned, your head falling back against the pillow as Logan set a steady rhythm, his hips snapping forward in a way that had him hitting that sweet spot deep inside you with every thrust. "Yes, just like that," you gasped, your legs wrapping around his waist, urging him deeper.

Logan groaned, his hands gripping your hips hard enough to leave bruises as he increased his pace, driving into you harder and faster. The room filled with the sounds of your bodies coming together, the slap of skin on skin, your labored breaths, and needy moans.

"Fuck, I'm not gonna last," Logan grunted, his thrusts becoming erratic as he felt his orgasm building. "You feel too fuckin' good, darlin'. Gonna fill this pretty pussy up."

You cried out, your body tensing as you felt your own release approaching. "Yes, Logan, yes," you chanted, your nails raking down his back. "Come inside me. I want to feel you come."

With a final, brutal thrust, Logan buried himself deep inside you, his cock pulsing as he spilled his cum into your awaiting womb. You screamed, your body shaking as your own orgasm crashed over you, your walls clamping down around Logan's shaft, milking him for every last drop.

You stayed like that for a moment, Logan's weight pressing down on you as you both struggled to catch your breath. Finally, he rolled off of you, pulling you into his arms and holding you close.

"That was...'' Logan trailed off, large hand caressing against your back.

''Amazing.'' You finished the sentence for him, head snuggling up against his chest, his chest hair tickling against your cheek. Your legs were still twitching, spasming at the aftershocks of your orgasm.

Logan's chest rumbled with a chuckle, his arm tightening around you as he pressed a kiss to the top of your head. "Yeah, it was," he agreed, his voice a low, satisfied growl. "You're amazing. Fuckin' incredible."

You felt yourself blush at his words, a shy smile tugging at your lips. "You're not so bad yourself," you teased, tilting your head up to press a soft kiss to his jaw. "For an old man."

Logan scoffed, his hand coming up to tickle your side. "Old man? I'll show you who's an old man," he threatened, his eyes glinting with mischief. "I can go again, you know. And again, and again."

You giggled, squirming in his arms as his fingers danced over your ribs. "I'm sure you can," you said, your voice breathless with laughter. "But I think I need a break first. You kind of wrecked me."

Logan's expression softened, his hand stilling on your skin. "Sorry, darlin'," he murmured, his thumb brushing over your cheek. "I didn't mean to be too rough."

You shook your head, reaching up to cover his hand with your own. "No, it was perfect," you assured him, your eyes locking with his. "I loved every second of it."

Logan's gaze searched your face for a moment as if trying to determine the truth of your words. Whatever he saw there seemed to satisfy him, because he leaned down and captured your lips in a slow, deep kiss.

When he pulled back, his eyes were warm and soft, a rare vulnerability shining through. "You're something else, angel," he said, his voice low and sincere. "I don't know what I did to deserve you, but I'm fuckin' grateful for it."

Your heart swelled at his words, your own eyes growing misty with emotion. "I'm the lucky one," you whispered, your hand coming up to cup his cheek.

And you were, having a man such as himself, making you reach heights you never thought you would, says a lot. And you'd seek him out more, eager and needing more of him.

[eph3merall]

very very random duo / thought but! quietgamer!matt x sleepy!reader perhaps.

matt sitting at his desk, sometime around two or three in the morning. he's trying not to disturb the lump in his bed which he recognizes as you when you let out a noise in your fit of slumber and the mess of hair peeking from the sheets. the light of his monitor is harsh however, illuminating the room and casting moving shadows everywhere.

his eyes dart back and forth, tuned into the fortnite match he was currently in. his eyes are a little bleary and there are dark bags under them, despite the brunette not being tired. he tended to stay up or wake up in the middle of the night, and as for you? you slept like a baby.

matt found it adorable if he's being honest, which is why when some kid kills him he's banging his desk before wincing and letting a curse fall under his breath. he doesn't notice the ball in his bed shift and move about, the sound of the sheets rustling failing to get to his ears covered by his headset.

the sound of your footsteps is soft as you pad against his floor, eyes squinting from the blinding light of his monitor. soon you're stood next to matt, standing there and yawning until his head is turning to look up at you with a crooked grin. "sorry baby, woke y'up? my bad." his voice is a little deeper than usual, and he just sounds so good.

matt lets one of his hands leave his controller, legs spreading in the pair of grey sweatpants he had on. a ringed hand pats his thigh gently, eyes already locked onto the new game about to start as he motioms for you to take a seat on his lap. "c'mon, theree y'go.." his voice sounds like honey to your ears, all smooth and rich once you're settled into the warmth of his body.

matt lets you shift around and get all comfortable, arms wrapping around your middle to hold you close and still play his game, thumbs swiftly pressing buttons on his controller as you settle your face into the crook of his neck. "'m sorry, didn't mean to wake y'up." because he really didn't—normally matt succeeds in not waking you, but he just got a little too pissed off this time.

"s'okay," your voice is raspy and heavy with sleep, muffle slightly against his skin as you hear matt let out a little chuckle. you briefly feel his head turning before a soft kiss is laid onto your head, followed by a curse as you feel matt sit up a little straighter in his chair.

and the two of you stay like that, until matt's had enough of his game and is a little pissed off. his hands are holding onto your hips and one is sneaking under the waistband of your pajama bottoms, groping at your ass as he hums lowly. his fingers find the edge of your panties, two of them rubbing over your cunt all slow and languidly.

"why're you so wet, huh? jus' been sittin' here with me n' you're already soaked?" his voice holds an air of amusement, and you can't do much except whine out of exhaustion and need. your hips shift back, trying to grind against matt's two fingers.

"c'mon baby, whaddya need? need my fingers, huh? need to get off like a needy bitch?" his words are somewhat mean, yet his actions are somewhat kind. matt lets his fingers rub over your clit before shifting your panties to the side and sinking his middle and ring finger into your cunt so easily.

you're humping back against him slowly, pants and little moans growing slightly louder in volume. "s'right.. there we go, good girl."

take rhis while i work on the second part to that other post thank you v much for 700+ notes on rhat as well like.

as always, not proofread. it's 3 am and im horribly tired goodnight

—

©eph3merall 2024

[kisakis-boyfriend]

might i request reader fucking boothill after they take off his arms and legs? he's got mechanical limbs, so it won't really hurt and they can be put back on again, but like. the brainrot. he'd look so cute fr fr ♦️

Author's Note: You must also be a mind reader, because I have been plagued with all sorts of scenarios like this. Either with a robot/android character having their innards played with, or robot/android reader. — All of that to say; I went with a mechanic reader doing some maintenance on Boothill, and things get a lil spicy 👀 (ended up making the reader a bit southern too??)

Pairings: Boothill x male reader

Warnings: Male mechanic!reader, dom/top!reader, sub/bottom!Boothill, robo sex, robo genital functions, Boothill's goofy swearing, fingering, grinding, mild objectification

“What seems to be the problem?” You ask. The man on the other side of the desk rolls his shoulder back a few times, complaining of some joint issues.

“Alrighty, follow me. I'll take a look at'cha”

The cowboy follows you into an examination room. Various posters are taped to the walls — cheesy motivational posters and diagrams of machinery, mostly. He comments on them, saying that he appreciates a place like this, as opposed to the squeaky clean shops he'd been referred to previously. You chuckle and thank him for the compliment.

Some tools are pulled out and placed on a workbench next to the table. As you're prepping things, you tell your customer to remove any articles of clothing and have a seat on the table.

“Well shoot, at least take me to dinner first, darlin'!” He teases, smirking at you when you slowly turn your head around and playfully squint your eyes at his remark. Still, he does as he's told, and removes his cropped top, pants, hat. Literally everything is off, and he takes his seat, waiting patiently for you to begin.

“Lift this arm for me. Ok good. Now the other one.” You instruct him through a simple visual check. All four of his limbs seem to stutter through their movements, acting worse when he tries to rotate his legs.

“Ok... Um, I think this'll be an easy fix, but uh...”

“But what?”

“I... am going to need to detach all of your limbs to fix you–”

—

While your customer was clearly not used to a procedure like this one, he did a wonderful job of following your instructions so as not to damage anything while you're removing his appendages. All four of them detach smoothly, and you set them aside on a spare table until you'll need them again. With the heavy lifting out of the way, you're ready to go in for the delicate work of recalibrating his connecting joints.

“You know, you're probably one of my best customers.” you say as your fingers tug on one of the small wires buried deep within his hip socket, “Most people aren't too keen on doing it all at once. And even when it's two at a time, they squirm and babble anxiously.”

Boothill inhales sharply as the sensation of your hands literally inside of him stirs something within his belly. His lower lip is scored with the marks from his sharp teeth.

You tighten a few of the mechanisms in there, and he prays that you keep your eyes on your work, otherwise you'd see how stupid he must look as his eyelids droop and his mouth opens in a silent moan. It's taking all of his willpower to hold those sounds in.

“Geez, this one is crazy loose… do you uh, have regular maintenance done? Because you really sh-”

As you grip another wire and pull it, a compartment on Boothill's crotch suddenly opens up, revealing a fleshy, dripping hole.

If the cowboy still had legs at the moment, he'd be trying to close them and hide his arousal from you. Already, his breathing has become ragged and heavy, on the verge of making other, lewder sounds…

“Ah! O-oh I am so sorry–”

“Naw, s'okay…” Boothill slurs before the beginning of a moan, futilely attempting to hold composure that is clearly long gone by this point. He can't really buck his hips, but you can tell that that's what he's trying to do. You take the hint, and curiously move between his legs- or, what would be the area between his legs, anyway. He gives you permission immediately, almost begging to have this spot touched.

It's… strangely soft… humanlike in both appearance and touch. It's unclear whether this is human flesh or synthetic, but realistic flesh. Whatever it is, it has nerve endings of some variety, because Boothill whimpers as you prod around the edges of the opening. More liquid oozes out as you toy with him, gasping ooh's and aah's with a curious grin on your face. It's so much that you need to grab a couple towels and place them under his hips so it doesn't drip everywhere or seep into his open sockets. Seriously, it's like a waterfall after a couple minutes…

“You're sure this is ok? I'd hate to make you uncomfortable…”

The hole between his hips pulsates, opening up just slightly, as if it's inviting you inside.

“Darlin', please– you already had yer fingers inside of me today, just… put 'em back in.” The cowboy whines. And if a customer needs a little extra service, who are you to ignore them? Especially one as gorgeous as Boothill.

A rush of the sticky liquid comes pouring out when you push two fingers inside of his pretty hole.

“Fuck, not that I get around much, but I've never seen someone get so damn wet just from my fingers before. Is it always like this?”

A quiet 'mm-mm' is his response. His head flies to either side as your fingers sink in up to the knuckle, effortlessly, thanks to his built-in lube. His hair is hanging off the other end of the table, swooshing around every time Boothill flings his head around. It's so pretty, you really wish it was between your fingers right now…

For now, your focus comes back to the multitude of wet noises coming from Boothill's hole. The towels under him have long since soaked up everything spilling from his entrance.

“M-more… gimme more–!!” he moans, squeezing his eyes shut.

Removing your fingers, his hole squirts out a bit of liquid, and he resembles a sad puppy until he notices you removing your clothes. When your hard-on is more visible, Boothill drools at the sight.

You free your cock and give it a few pumps, licking your lips as your eyes flick between the cowboy's fleshy entrance and his sweaty face. He returns your gaze with his own obvious lust, lolling his tongue out once you touch him again.

It's incredibly soft and wet on your dick. You rub your length against the opening a few times, grinding against him and imagining how it will feel once you're inside–

“Shi- fuck! Mm that's tight, cowboy. Holy shit.” You exclaim, almost going cross-eyed from pleasure as his hole squeezes you so good. It doesn't take long for you to grab his hips and thrust like your life depends on it.

“Goddamn, yer like some hi-tech fleshlight! Oh yeah, take that dick! Take it, slut.” Mechanical wheezing is the only sound coming from Boothill now, unable to speak as you pound his hole mercilessly. In a moment of animalistic lust, you crawl up on the table and fuck him like a sex doll, curling over his body with your own and pistoning your hips, drilling into his gushing entrance as he squirts heavily.

You groan right into his ear, “M'gonna cum in you now- is that ok?” Boothill rapidly shakes his head, shivering at the way your breath hits his earlobe. Within seconds you're fucking your seed further into his squishy hole, ramming in so deep you make the cowboy's eyes roll completely back, and he exhales a shaky “Fork yeah~”. It's hard not to chuckle at the ridiculousness of what he said, but coming down from your high takes most of your energy — including the energy to realize that this man did just say "fork yeah" when you came inside of him……

His hole is still greedily sucking your juices in, and you can already feel yourself humping the glorified fleshlight that is your customer. Needless to say, this repair will take longer than you planned…

[rose-tinted-kalopsia]

≡;-꒰ 𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐃 𝐓𝐇𝐎𝐔𝐆𝐇𝐓𝐒 ꒱₊˚ ପ⊹ 𝑳𝒐𝒗𝒆 & 𝑫𝒆𝒆𝒑𝒔𝒑𝒂𝒄𝒆 𝑩𝒐𝒚𝒔: 𝑬𝒂𝒕𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒀𝒐𝒖 𝑶𝒖𝒕

── mdni sexual content. l&ds boys and how they eat you out. inclusive of: oral (f. receiving), slight pet name usage, praise, cursing.

⁺₊ / an: your wish is my command anonie! 🥰

rafayel, out of all the boys, would arguably be the most eager, and arguably the most skilled. because first and foremost, he simply loves being there between your thighs. he loves love your smell, and your taste, altogether—so much so that he could definitely stay there for hours.

but he's also anything but nice about it. because the minute you give him permission, he'll be swirling his tongue, lapping at your juices, practically moaning against you with how good you taste...

... and rafayel knows how to use his tongue. he's so damn good at using it, never failing to bring you to your high; never stopping, either. the hours he can spend eating you out aren't soft and gentle, he'll keep up his pace in an almost desperate manner to drink you up. he doesn't mean to overstimulate you, really! it's not intentional, he just can't get enough of you!

"mmhfffuck— taste so damn good—"

xavier would be slow with his movements, just little easygoing, languid licks up your cunt, softly lapping at your entrance. he's also someone who would gladly go at this for house on end, but this is because he finds the process relaxing. comforting. so he prolongs it—he takes his time. he'll focus on the taste, wanting to savor every last drop, as much as possible... all with absolutely no rush, ao it allows you to feel, more accurately, all of what he's doing to you. and boy, would it feel good.

but. the downside of this is that he doesn't necessarily intend on making you cum. sure, he likes your taste, and he'll try to get as much of it as he can—much like rafayel, he won't stop until he's tired and satisfied! but the build-up to your release will definitely be slow. it's almost like teasing, unintentionally... not that he would edge you, or overstimulate you, but he won't actively try to bring you to an orgasm as quickly as possible, either!

"hm? s'okay, angel... you'll get there eventually..."

zayne would eat you out with purpose. he's precise, and very much intentionally wants you to cum. in fact, it's not just a want for him—it's a need. every swirl of his tongue and every suck on your clit is made with the drive to bring you to your high. he knows—he's memorized—all the spots that have your bck arching into his face, allowing the tip of his nose to brush against your clit so perfectly, it has you absolutely reeling.

and he knows exactly how to get you all worked up even more. because the entire time he's eating you out, he will be maintaining eye-contact with you. bright, piercing eyes gazing straight into yours, a hint of mirth in them as his tongue plunges into you.

you're not allowed to look away. you wouldn't dare.

"mm... look at me, sweetheart. need to see you."

caleb would be very much of a tease. he's also someone who knows exactly how you like to be eaten out, and arguably, he'd have impeccable technique—but he won't give you that. he knows how easily you cum from his tongue, that he would rather give all his attention to every other part of your body... before he'd dare to start licking your cunt.

you'd be begging, writhing, aching to have his tongue between your folds... but you simply have to wait. this is one of the only times caleb gets to have his fun in teasing you to no end, and he will, by all means, enjoy it.

"fuck, baby, you're drenched. all this for me?"

jeremiah would start out incredibly, incredibly shy at first. his hands placed tentatively over your thigh, starting with testing little licks because he isn't quite sure of what he's doing... he'd even have you guide his head, anything to ensure he's doing things the way you want him to—because he wants, needs, to make you feel good. he'll even look up at you every now and then with innocent little "was that okay?"s and "did that feel good?"s, always searching for affirmations from you.

and his eyes would be so genuine and sincere despite the act the both of you are participating in, that it's almost adorable, like a breath of fresh air. he'll eat you out with the most considerate prioritization of your pleasure, learning as he goes, until he can undeniably bring you to cum all over his tongue.

"oh... it looks like you liked that? should i do it again? like... this?"

⁺₊ / an: have you noticed i updated my character list for lnds..... LMAKDJSJFJHSHF

© rose-tinted-kalopsia. all rights reserved. do not: steal, copy, repost, reupload, modify, or claim any of my works as your own, regardless of credit given. absolutely do not use my works for AI training and other related purposes.

[erwinsvow]

rafe topper and kelce being protective of you at a party !!

"wan' some?" the boy next to you offers you the little mirror with white lines, his eyes big and bloodshot. you don't recognize him, you just took a seat on the nearest surface since your feet hurt from dancing.

"i've never done it. what's it like?" you cock your head, interested in the answer. rafe is particularly strict about coke—you're not allowed anywhere near the stuff. it's a stupid double standard since topper and kelce get high with him all the time, and you're stuck driving their asses home.

you glance around, making sure the boys aren't nearby. you aren't really a troublemaker but you've always been able to hold your own with them. especially rafe, since the two of you rarely agree on anything—where to go for lunch, what music to play in the car, which kind of beer to buy.

coke is the one thing he's stern about, and you don't really like testing him about it either, since he's so much more pleasant when you listen. you like to tease him but he thought you were smart enough not to mess with the only rule he'd given you.

"once you start you won't be able to stop," the boy replies, passing the plate onto your lap. the whole thing feels a little grimy, the way he's touching your legs, how high he looks.

"yeah, i think i'm gonna pass.��� you try to slide it back, when he grabs your wrist.

"no, try some."

"no, i'm good-" you try to get up, the mirror clanging to the ground, white powder hitting the floor.

"you bitch-" you turn and try to get away, trying to get your wrist free of his grip, when he holds on tighter.

"what the fuck is this?" you hear the boom of kelce's voice, coming over and pushing the boy aside.

"are you deaf, man? she said no, don't keep fucking asking, you creep-" you hear topper defend you.

oddly enough, you hadn't expected it. the boys are nice, and they're your best friends, but you thought you were almost just another one of the boys, didn't think they'd care enough like this.

"you okay?" kelce asks, while the boy scrambles on the floor. your eyes are wet, you're not sure when you started crying. "rafe, over here."

"no, don't tell him-"

"don't tell me what?" rafe asks, taking in the boy darting away, the broken glass and spilled drugs on the floor. he picks up your red marked wrist. "hey, hey."

you turn to face rafe, tears spilling down your cheeks. you feel even more embarrassed infront of him.

"you okay?" he asks, leaning in close. you nod, trying to speak but it comes out in a wrangled sob. "hey, s'okay, you're fine now." he brings you into a hug, and you cry softly against his chest for a few minutes.

you think you're incredibly thankful for your friends.

rafe thinks he's never letting you out of his eye sight again at a party.

[1d1195]

Invitation

~3.5k words

From me: I mentioned I had a kinda rough weekend. This just sort of wrote itself. Def a stand alone. Second chance at love. I wrote it mostly in the drafts page and didn't do a whole lot of editing for continuity so it's probs not very realistic nor will it make a ton of sense. But anyway.

Warnings: MC parent death; funeral, angst, angst angst. But I'm hoping if you read it you'll see some cathartic, comforting fluff.

Summary: She and Harry broke up years ago and it was completely fine. But seeing her again, even under sad circumstances has his heart pulling him closer to her.

It had been eight years since he had last laid eyes on her. But when he read the piece on her mum off a mutual friend’s Facebook page he was transported back to one of those moments he spent so totally in love with her.

The idea that her best friend was gone made him terrified for her well being. It was the reason he was in a hotel room, straightening his tie in the mirror. Double checking he didn't miss any spots while shaving. He looked simultaneously presentable yet solemn. Her mum was special, beautiful. She made Harry feel at home the entire time they dated. Bought him thoughtful gifts for his birthday and Christmas. Made sure she bought his favorite snacks and always inquired about school, work, or his favorite show. She joked with her that Harry was too good for her and she didn’t treat him well enough (which was inherently false). She was the perfect girlfriend and had the perfect mum.

He couldn’t imagine how she was feeling.

Harry didn’t want to make his appearance about his arrival at the funeral home at all. He stepped in line silently, tried not to make eye contact with anyone and slowly made his way through toward the front, pretending he was invisible. He looked at the picture boards as he walked along his favorite girl and her mother in so many of them. Both were beautiful and Harry thought she was going to look just like her mother when she was older and so he was really lucky that he would know she was beautiful for the rest of his life. But he would have predicted that anyway.

Their relationship ended amicably enough. They were changing, time moving on, and quite frankly it felt like they couldn't spend enough time together so it didn't seem fair. "Shouldn't we want t'spend time with each other, beautiful? Shouldn't we feel feel bad we're not spending time together? It shouldn't be forced. You're m'favorite person in the world, kitten. S'not fair."

He was right of course. She agreed. So they went their separate ways. Since they were still in university at the time, they saw each other frequently. Their friend groups overlapped a bit so they weren't rid of each other all that much until after graduation. There was even a picture of the pair of them together on that day--her mum's suggestion. It was apparent more so then, that they were changing and moving on but Harry was grateful for that picture. When he saw the notice of her mum's passing, he looked at it fondly and felt something in the pit of his stomach. Wanting and wishing he had made more time for her. That she wasn't so busy and their time apart hadn't lasted as long.

But that was eight years ago. Harry was thirty now. He had a few girlfriends during that time and maybe it wasn't a surprise they didn't work out. When he inquired of his friends if he should go to support her, they said it was up to him. Louis and Eleanor were out of the country so they would send flowers. Mitch and Sarah were waiting for Sarah to give birth at any moment so they too, would send flowers.

"I'll be at the funeral," Niall assured him. "I can't make the visiting hours, sorry, Harry," Harry could hear his frown as they spoke on the phone.

"S'okay, s'nice y'can make it t'any of it. She'll appreciate it."

"I hope," a frown in his voice, a sigh in his tone.

"No, she will," Harry was confident. She would never make Niall feel bad--anyone feel bad. It was just the way she was.

Harry was in front of the urn containing the ashes of her mother and he knelt and said a short prayer for her and her sweet daughter. He tried not to think about his own mother at such a sad time and how he would feel if this was her. He shook his head, blessed himself automatically, and stood to greet the receiving line. It was filled with aunts and uncles who were surprised to see him. He didn't fully understand their surprise (of course he would be there for her--even if things were different now) but moved to each one, quietly apologizing for the loss of their sister and only answering how work, life, and everything was with as few words as possible. It was just her and her mom. Dad was out of the picture before she was even born. It wasn't a bad thing because she was her mum's whole life and she never made her want for anything. "Where is she?" Harry asked quietly. Usually the children were first in the line but she wasn't there.

"Another spat with the boyfriend," her aunt rolled her eyes. "You are by far our favorite," she smiled at him encouragingly. "Don't leave till she gets back, if you can. She deserves to see someone who will make her happy right now," she winked.

Harry felt his eyebrows crawl up his forehead in surprise. He nodded. Pride bloomed inside him for being the favorite. It wasn't the time but he couldn't help it. His heart felt heavy, worried she was with someone horrible. "Yeah, sure. Of course."

So Harry stayed in the little seating area, watching people walk through the receiving line, looking at the slideshow of pictures that somehow managed to boil down to one person's life. There was even a picture or two of him. It made sense, he was in her life for nearly four years and they were inseparable until they weren't.

Harry smiled fondly at the memories within the pictures and wondered where she could be right now. He had seen the full slideshow twice.

"Harry, you're still here?"

He cleared his throat, stood, and shook one of her uncle's hands again. "Yeah... um... haven't seen her yet."

"She went outside with the boyfriend ages ago. I'm assuming they're still arguing or she's trying to calm herself down enough to come in and fake that everything's fine."

Harry frowned. "Maybe I'll go check then," he suggested and headed for the door.

Why was she dating someone if it was clear no one in her family liked him?

The men at the door, let Harry through and he quietly walked to the side of the building wondering where she could be having a private conversation at a funeral home. The side was dark except for a flood light that perfectly illuminated the couple. Harry stepped out of sight but strained to listen.

"What do you mean, 'you have to go'? You're seriously joking right?"

Harry didn't know her voice could take on a tone that sounded so angry like that. They never fought that way. No more than who's pizza topping was better or if they had to pick which dinner place to go to on a busy Saturday night.

"Babe, you know with my work--"

"This is my mother," she croaked. It felt like a bullet through Harry's chest to hear her choked up like that. All that grief wrapping in her throat and pulling on her vocal cords.

"I know, but don't you think she would want me to continue living my life and doing what I need to do so--"

"She's my best friend," her voice cracked because she was crying so hard. Harry wanted to run over, unceremoniously knock him to the ground, and comfort her. "You're supposed to be here to support me!"

"Well you know death kind of freaks me out, babe. I'm trying to support our future. I've been here all day."

Her tone was so biting, he truly couldn't believe it. "You've been here for an hour."

Harry winced and shook his head. No one liked death. Everyone was freaked out by it to some degree. But he was supposed to love her; be there for her.

"If you leave, we're done," Harry felt intrusive for listening in but he couldn't move.

"You don't mean that."

"I do, mean that. I really, really, really, really mean that," she sniffed. Good girl. Harry thought. "I have put up with your bullshit like this for way too long and you're unsupportive and if you leave this is it," she assured him. "Work cannot be more important than me."

"It's important for us, babe. So when we get married--"

"And when will that be?" She shouted.

"For the love of God, we're going to do this now?"

"It's been three years. I'm thirty and wanted kids and you are just..." she trailed off. "Fine. Go. We're done anyway."

"Babe, you don't mean that--"

"I will pack my stuff up when I get home."

"And where are you going to go? You don't have a job right now--"

"BECAUSE I WAS TAKING CARE OF MY DYING MOTHER."

Why was she even with this guy? Harry couldn't fathom it. It was so unlike her to date someone so crass and careless. Or maybe Harry was just filled with rage and envy of a man that couldn't help her the way she deserved.

"Well..." he cleared his throat. "I'm sorry you feel that way. I have a plane to catch. Maybe after you've calmed down and aren't grieving we can have a more pleasant conversation."

A silent moment passed between them. Surely he heard it as he said it. It couldn't have been just her and Harry that heard what he implied. "Do... do you... do you think I'm supposed to be done grieving?" She hissed.

He sighed, mumbled something about calling her when he landed, and walked away. He didn't even notice Harry pressed to the building.

Harry watched him get in his car and pull away as if this wasn't the worst day of her life. Harry took several deep breaths to calm himself. This wasn't about him or how he wanted to strangle him. This was about her, her grief.

She was leaning against the wall. She was heaving, sobbing into one hand. For what, at that point, Harry didn't know. He could only see her from behind, the same figure he could have picked out in a lineup and if he was blind. But she seemed smaller. Withdrawn of course. Her free arm wrapped around her stomach like she was trying to hold herself together.

"Hey beautiful," he murmured softly. She sniveled, spun around. Harry was met with her face grief stricken, heartbroken, and tear soaked. But yeah, she was still as beautiful as he remembered. "Aw, kitten," he cooed gently. "C'mon s'cold outside. Let's get you--"

She threw herself against him as he approached. Her arms around his neck and she continued her sobbing against his shoulder. Sighing, he wrapped his arms wrapped around her waist and back, she fit effortlessly into his embrace even after eight or so years since he last saw her. It felt natural to hold her like this. "I know," he murmured comfortingly. "I know, kitten," he kissed the side of her head, soothingly rubbing his hand up and down her spine.

"Please don't let go of me," she cried. "I can't--"

"Shh," he hushed. "M'here. M'not letting go until you do," he promised softly. He hoped she wouldn't pull away because he wanted to take care of her the way that asshole couldn't. It didn't matter what the past was it only mattered that her sweet self could find some sort of contentment.

"Please don't leave me," she begged. "I can't do this alone."

It felt like a switch changed in him. Or maybe it was the anger he felt for her ex-boyfriend. Or perhaps a combination of missing her when he didn't really know he had been missing her and all the frustration he felt for the reasons she was so distraught. He would do anything for her. "No way, beautiful. M'not going anywhere," he assured her pressing his lips instinctively to the top of her hair. Patiently he listened to her cries, held her tightly, and lightly brought a hand to the side of her neck. He carefully pressed his fingertips against her skin, hoping that if she was aching (which he assumed every part of her was) it relieved the smallest bit of tension.

"How much did you hear?" She sniveled pulling away enough to glance into his eyes. Her face was blotchy and red, she was sure. Harry looked like he just left his modeling job for ties and cologne. She wanted to look more beautiful--so it would have at least made sense that Harry had ever decided to date her--even if it was years ago. But she was so overwhelmed with sadness, she couldn't feel anything but that and not even her horrendous look could deter her long enough to utter more than a quick apology for snotting all over him. "M'sorry. I look--"

"Shh," he hushed immediately. Harry pulled a handkerchief from his pocket--Mum was always insistent he have one when he wore a suit. Someone is always crying when you need to wear a suit and it's not to work. Carefully, he dabbed under her eyes, and swiped the fabric across her delicate cheeks. "You look beautiful," he assured her a kind, small smile made his lips curl up just enough to get the dimple in his cheek to appear. The one she had told him she was going to stick her tongue in back when they laid on a mattress that was too small for two people and resulted in a giggling tickle fight between two people who were much too old for tickle fights.

What he would have given to make her laugh now.

Harry kept one arm around her waist taking over her own job to hold herself together. "How much did you hear?" She repeated.

He shrugged, nonchalantly. "Too much, probably."

She frowned; if she could muster an emotion other than sadness and grief, she probably would have been embarrassed. "I'm sorry."

"I'm sorry. I was waiting inside, but then your uncle said y'were out here and I wanted t'see you and--"

"Do you need to leave?" She asked quickly. "I'm sorry I'm holding--"

"Kitten," he said gently pinching her chin between his fingers so she had no choice but to look in his eyes and process what he was saying. "M'staying here until y'tell me t'leave."

She sighed. For the first time in what felt like months she felt relief. "Okay."

*

She dragged him alongside her to the front of the receiving line. Harry felt slightly embarrassed and out of place but the rest of her family paid no attention to it. Like he was supposed to be there. She hugged and cried a lot over the next two hours. Harry handed her tissues and water.

“What if I don’t tell you to leave?” She whispered. Harry was standing so close to her that no one else could hear. Like it was just the two of them. She was sipping from a water bottle and Harry was stroking her hair back with his fingers while wiping below her eyes with a tissue.

“Then I’ll never go," his voice was quiet, like hers. He kissed her forehead softly.

"You don't have to obviously, you have no obligation... but is there any chance you were planning to be here tomorrow?" She asked.

He nodded hurriedly. "Course, kitten," he smiled gently, almost sad that she thought he wouldn't. "Niall's going t'come too. He's really sorry he couldn't make it tonight," he explained. "I have a hotel room right nearby so I can stay s'long as y'need me. Do anything y'need, too. And Niall m'sure would be happy t'help if y'need anything requiring two people, as well."

"Really?" A fresh well of tears filled her eyes and Harry's grin grew even if it was sad she was so surprised.

"Of course, beautiful. We... we want t'be here for you," he assured her.

She pressed her face against his shoulder again and sniveled against him. "I owe you a new suit," she mumbled into the fabric.

"Shh..." he hushed. "M'here," he promised. "Don't worry 'bout anything else."

*

His hotel room was dark when they entered. Harry didn’t want anything to happen that could be misconstrued due to her grief but she seemed adamant and sure that she wanted to spend the night. Harry was planning to sleep on the floor but instead they chatted way too much. Much later than a girl who had her mum’s funeral the following morning should have chatted. She giggled the way Harry loved and smiled despite how sad she was. Harry told her all about the last eight years, his job, his mum, their old friends and everything in between.

When he looked at the clock, his phone said it was well past one in the morning and she needed to be up early. “Think y’need t’sleep, kitten,” he was lying beside her, fully clothed except he lost the tie. He was brushing her hair away from her face watching her eyes droop.

“Mom didn’t like him,” she whispered. “She didn’t like anyone that wasn’t you,” she told him.

Harry swallowed nervously. Not because he was worried about her sentiment but because her grief was fresh and the tire tracks of where her stupid ex peeled out of the parking lot were still warm. Her mind had to be jumbled and as much as he wanted to kiss her and make promises, it wasn’t the time. Harry was older and more mature now. The way he wasn’t but wished he had been when they broke up. “After that performance, beautiful,” he sighed with a shake of his head. “M’surprised she didn’t poison him.”

“He didn’t even like her oatmeal raisin and white chocolate chip cookies,” she grumbled bitterly.

“Kitten,” he tutted. “How could you let that continue?” He joked, nudging her playfully.

She turned on her side, their faces inches apart on the same pillow. “Thank you for being here for me,” she whispered.

“There’s no where else I want t’be, beautiful,” he promised.

“I didn’t realize how much I missed you. It’s sad this is what it took.”

He leaned forward, pressed his lips to her forehead and let the kiss linger there. “Do y’want me t’sleep on the floor?”

“No,” she shook her head. “This is the first night I’ve felt tired in months. You have to stay here if you want me to sleep through the night.”

“If you’re sure,” he reached for the bedside lamp and turned it off. He didn’t want to change into different clothes or anything. He just wanted to be there for her.

“This is also your hotel room that I invited myself into," she reminded him.

He grinned at her in the dark. “You’ve always had an open invitation, t’me, kitten,” he brought her closer toward him, kissing the top of her head.

There would be about a thousand and one things to discuss after the funeral. But right then it was late, and they needed to sleep because the day was going to bring more exhaustion and sadness that was inevitable. “Did you mean it?” She whispered quietly after Harry thought she had fallen asleep.

“Mean what, beautiful?” He murmured.

“You’ll never go?”

He nodded. “Mmm,” he hummed inhaling the scent of her shampoo. “I meant it,” his words were slurred with sleep and she knew it because she had heard it in his voice hundreds of times in their time together. He was on the brink of dreaming and her mind was reeling.

“Mom wanted us to get back together,” she whispered. “For ages. She had our graduation picture on the fridge,” she explained. “When I was taking care of her these last few months and he was useless, she kept mentioning you. Told me it wasn’t too late to start over. I guess... I guess this was one way she thought she could bring us back together.”

There was no response because Harry had fallen asleep, and she was close behind. She brought the hand that held his to her lips and kissed his fingers inhaling the comforting smell of him as she finally felt like sleep.

“Your mum was the best,” he mumbled. “She brought you into this world, just for me t’find you.”

The words were lost in her mind, her throat, and her aching heart. But she liked to believe that Harry knew already because he was there, and he wasn’t planning on leaving again.

“We can start over, beautiful. M’not going anywhere,” he whispered one more time as sleep overtook her tired mind.

--

general taglist: @justlemmeadoreyou @daydreamingofmatilda @sunshinemoonsposts @loving-hazz @likeapplejuicenpeach

@straightontilmornin @freedomfireflies @littlenatilda @kathb59 @babegoals

@angel-upon @lilfreakjez @mleestiles @ameliaalvarez06 @canyonmoondreams

@summertime-pills @daphnesutton @l4rrysh0use @perfectywrong @foreverxholland

@lovrave @st-ev-ie @pandeebearstyles @toosarcastic03 @luvonstyles

@tenaciousperfectionunknown @classychalamet @love-letters-to-uranus @emmaawbr @crossyourpeter

@kissitnhekitchen @kittenhere @stylesfever @indierockgirrl @michellekstyles

@just-another-reader1098 @hermionelove @tiredinwinter @whimsy-willows @hannah9921

@fangirl7060 @triski73 @vikiii07 @prettygurl-2009 @madstyles3204

@angeldavis777

I'm sorry if I missed anyone in the taglist. Please let me know if you'd like to join, if it didn't work, if you no longer want to be included, etc. :)

If you like this, check out my masterlist here

[dolcekissy]

cheater cheater , ღ

part 2

: ̗̀➛ stepbro!rafe comforting reader while topper, her boyfriend, is out cheating on her.

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･ main masterlist | reader x stepbro!rafe masterlist

disclaimer // 18+ content. this story includes being rafes step sister, unprotected sex, p in v, kinda pervy rafe, breeding kink, and i think that's it idk

─────────────────────────

you knew it was wrong ─ fucking your step brother while your boyfriend was out doing whatever the hell he was doing. you didn't care that you were cheating on topper at this point but with his best friend that just so happens to be your step brother? what the fuck.

topper had been ignoring your texts lately and going out with his friends a lot more than usual ─ turning his location off while he's out with them. he pushed you over the edge when he blocked you tonight after telling you he'll be busy tonight. you ran to rafes room with tears in your eyes that eventually led up to your current situation,

"that lil fucker ─ shit girl." he leans back a bit to watch your pretty pussy swallow his cock whole, sucking in a breath. "he's been treating you like shit lately huh? fuckkk ─ big bro will take care of you, yeah? yeahhh, shh shh s'okay baby" he grabs one your hands intertwining them in his and moving his other to rub harsh circles on your puffy clit.

you whine out totally overstimulated by his cock stretching you out and the newfound pleasure of him playing with your sensitive pussy. "rafeee ─ s'too much."

he grinned down at you while rubbing your clit harder. "you can take it. i hear you faking with toppers dumbass when you sneak him in. you need some real dick." you clench around him, tears staining your cheeks while he pumps in and out of at a speed that has you seeing little white dots around his room.

"fuck baby ─ this what toppers missing out on right now? feels s'good. so fucking good." you moan out loudly which is quickly muffled by his hand flying to cover your mouth. "cant let the whole house know your cock drunk off your stepbrothers dick, yeah? stay quiet doll."

rafe can tell you're close by the way your pussy flutters around his cock and the way you grip onto his large biceps like your life depends on it. he's close too, so fucking close ─ he's been waiting to fuck you for what felt like years now. if anything it made him happy top was very obviously cheating on you. now you could finally be all his.

"shit baby, m'gonna cum. gonna let me cum in this pussy?" rafe is pounding you into the mattress, still rubbing your sensitive bud. you nod eagerly, barely understanding what he just said.

he knows you're too cock drunk to understand ─ just nodding your pretty little head to anything he says. "really gonna let step bro nut in you? gonna let me fill you with my babies? nasty, nasty girl." you completely let go letting your orgasm wash over you, clenching even harder on his cock.

of course rafe sticks to his word and cums deep inside of you, fucking the cum up into you. he leans back to watch it drip out of you and onto his sheets. "fucking hell." he looks back up at your fucked out state ─ eyes glossy, lips red and swollen, hair a fuckin' mess. yet you're begging him for more. "oh yeahhh. babydoll just needed to get a taste of some real dick, huh? you want some more? yeah? shit. yeahhh, goood girl." he says sliding right back into you.

─────────────────────────

[evnnkinard]

the first time after they have sex buck tries not to be too clingy. holds onto the following moments post orgasm where tommy's still on top of him, inside of him, and they trade slow, soft kisses, panting into each others mouths. lets himself run his hands across tommy's skin, down his back, over his sides, memorising. but bites back his whine when tommy finally pulls away. he hums softly when tommy kisses his cheek and murmurs, "i'll be right back," and ignores the urge to grab his hand and beg him to stay. lets him leave the bed and tries to focus on something else other than the way his skin immediately feels cold. tries not to feel disappointed. reminds himself that everybody has different needs, it's not all about him. instead, tries to summon the energy to get his own legs working again so he can get up, too.

and then tommy's back. there's a cloth, damp with warm water, swiping gently across his stomach, down his thighs, cleaning him. he can't help the sound that escapes him this time when tommy wipes over his hole, still sensitive, even with as careful as tommy is. tommy runs a hand along his thigh, soothing, apologetic, says, "sorry, kid. you'll regret it in about five minutes if we don't clean up now though, trust me," his voice is raspy, still sounding as thoroughly fucked as when he was in the process of actually fucking buck. buck tries not to preen.

and then tommy's throwing the cloth across the room and buck hears the gentle thump of it landing in the laundry basket. thinks, stupidly, 'score'. and then there's a kiss being placed on buck's inner thigh, and then his stomach, and then tommy's making his way back up buck's body, kissing his mouth. buck sighs, melts into the kiss. doesn't grab onto tommy's shoulder, the back of his head, like he so desperately wants to. lets tommy pull away again, though he doesn't go far this time, hovering over buck.

"s'okay. you- you didn't have to do that, though. i- i would've-" and tommy shuts him up with another kiss. he's smiling oh so softly when he pulls away, has his 'evan' expression on his face, as everyone else has deemed it. flicks his eyes over buck's face, searching, says, "evan. i wanted to, okay? i like looking after you. makes my hindbrain happy."

buck laughs, feels warm in the way he's come accustomed to feeling when he's with tommy, and tommy's smile widens, like he's accomplished exactly what he wanted to and then he's flopping down next to buck, close, so close that their shoulders, arms, thighs are touching, pressed lightly against each other, but he doesn't move to do anything else. a minute ticks by and buck wants to shuffle closer, curl his body around his boyfriends and have tommy's arms wrap around him, engulf him in that way that always makes him feel safe, loved. knows if he asked, tommy would absolutely oblige because he's so good, so amazing like that. doesn't ask. doesn't want to put tommy out. stays where he is, settles for the points of contact they're already sharing despite the ways his skin screams-

"evan," buck startles, doesn't think it's the first time tommy's said his name. rolls his head on his pillow and finds tommy already looking at him, eyes crinkled in amusement. wants to reach out and run his fingers along the lines, ingrain them into his memory. doesn't, but tommy does. reaches out with both hands, pulls at him, gently but firmly, "come on, get over here, i wanna cuddle," he manhandles and rearranges buck how he wants him, until buck's lying half on top of him. head tucked under his chin, one of his thighs thrown across his legs and buck has to remind his dick that they've just had sex and to calm the fuck down because fuck- that's hot, but now's really not the time. one of tommy's arms falls across his waist, tugging buck impossibly closer, like he'd tuck buck inside his skin if he could. buck wouldn't stop him. tommy's other hand comes to rest against buck's head, fingers occasionally moving to pet at his mess of curls.

and buck tucks his face further into tommy's neck, takes a breathe, and another, surrounds his senses with his boyfriend. clings, because he thinks it's okay this time. tommy's clinging, too. lips press to the top of his head, dropping a kiss there. hears tommy's soft, "you okay?"

"yeah. yeah, i'm okay. just- this- this is nice. i- i really like being close to you."

"yeah? good. i really like being close to you, too, evan."

[wanderingelvis]

hi girlie! love your work, please could you write about a reader that loves sex with ep but is still very innocent?

i hope you like it! thank you for requesting!

masterlist is here for more elvis fics takin' new elvis requests here

wc - 2.8k

warnings - SMUT, daddyk!nk, profanity, overstim, praisek!nk, innocencek!nk, all the usual stuff for me

Elvis was the one to expose you to a lot of your firsts. Your first kiss, your first time in Las Vegas, your first designer dress, your first sip of alcohol but most importantly, your first experience of sexual pleasure. 

Now, despite your innocence, even you knew that Elvis had been with many lovers and was well known for his abilities in the bedroom. Sure, it made you a little hesitant at first, a little scared that he would find someone more exciting and experienced than you and forget all about you. Actually, you were more than a little scared of that happening, you were terrified, you didn't even want to fall for Elvis because you never felt that you were worth the famous man's time or attention but oh Lord, you fell hard.

And you could tell straight away why so many people fell for him, when he looked at you, it felt like he was looking through to your soul and out the other side again. It was like you were the only person in the world to him in that moment.

But when Elvis introduced you to the world of pleasure and sex, you couldn't get enough. You were nervous during your first times, so, so nervous and Elvis could tell. But he went slowly with you, praising you and cooing at you as you took all of him, even if it stretched your walls and made a few sweet, little tears trickle down your cheeks.

Elvis would always praise you and make it clear what he was doing too, never leaving you in the dark.

"M'gonna take off these pretty lil' panties now, little girl."

"Open them lips f'me doll, that's it, just like that, good." He would hiss.

"Daddy's gotchu, s'okay baby, yer likin' that ain't ya? S'okay, I know yer overstimulated. That's my girl."

"Yer takin' my fingers so well little one, that's right, you're doin' so good f'me. You like that dontchu dolly? Yeah? M'gonna add another finger, stretch out yer pretty lil' cunt, I know you can handle it baby."

And he'd delight in watching you get so worked up under him, writhing with pleasure and practically begging for more through whimpers and tears each time.

Yet still, that sweet naivety that clouded you never left. You were always still seeking Elvis' guidance and love and attention and that's when Elvis realised the gem that he had in you.

You'd gaze up at him with uncertainty, seeking reassurance with every move as he would teach you all the ways he enjoyed being pleasured and Elvis would have to stroke your pretty little head as he taught you how to give it.

You became obsessed with feeling pleasure from Elvis, you found yourself begging and mewling for it in the morning, whispering in Elvis' ear during the day asking for him to take you, and undressing yourself at the earliest opportunity in the evenings so that Elvis would have his way with you.

And he'd always chuckle at you fondly, adoring your sweet desperation. 

You didn't even know the names of the acts that the two of you were performing but it didn't matter, your head became fuzzier and fuzzier over time, your only goal was to feel the pleasure that Elvis gave you.

And it wasn't long before Elvis realised you were his naive little nymphomaniac.

You were sat in your regular spot in the International, watching Elvis perform. You just thought he was oh so magical, the way he sang, the way he moved and gyrated on stage, captivating you and the rest of the audience. You watched tiny beads of sweat drip down his tanned face onto the chest hairs that were exposed by the white jumpsuit he wore.

He'd look over at you, every now and then, sending you a wink to make sure you knew he remembered that you were the most important little girl in the audience and by the end of the show, that sweet desperation that had started to become an all too familiar feeling, was creeping its way in. 

And Elvis just loved to tease you. He practically relished in watching you whine and plead for his touch and his love, he just thought you were so sweet, especially when you still didn't understand half of what was going on, you just got so carried away. 

So, when you and Elvis finally made it back up to the hotel suite after the show, you were nothing short of desperate. See, Elvis had this thing where he was just so damn nice to everyone that after a show, he'd go around and thank everyone for their hard work, and whilst you loved that about him, you were growing needier and needier by the second.

Elvis knew you all too well though, he knew that he was dragging this out for his little desperate baby. In fact, he didn't just know, he enjoyed it. Elvis decided to drag out the process and turn you into his own needy little mess tonight.

"You look so pretty tonight baby, y'know that? Got all dressed up n'pretty f'me huh?" Elvis teased, lowering his head slightly to kiss the top of yours as his large hand traced your skimpy, sparkly dress that he'd bought for you, only three days before. 

You gulped and nodded quickly, smiling and letting out a giggle - he'd barely touched you and yet there you were all flustered. 

It was no surprise though that just a couple of loving words and a gentle touch from Elvis would send you spiralling each time he did it. You'd never experienced life the way that you had since Elvis came into it, before Elvis, you would attend your part time job, go to the library and do your studies. It was mundane, unexciting, and repetitive. Then, you met the most famous man in the entire world and everything changed, you had so many new experiences from spending hours in lavish boutiques, to dining next to the King of Rock n' Roll as you both sat in the crowd, watching Frank Sinatra singing. 

In all honesty, it was a life you were never prepared for, you still weren't adjusted to it all that well, that's why you clung to Elvis, he was like some form of security blanket for you, a protector of sorts that looked after you and cared for you. He knew you were new to everything so he would always take things slow with you, making sure that you were always okay and comfortable. 

He'd help alleviate the stress of the lifestyle change in lots of ways, for example, he would choose what you wore each day and how you did your hair and make up. Now, many people had called this controlling, but how were you, a girl that had never stepped foot on the Las Vegas strip, supposed to know what to wear to a casino and show? Elvis knew what would look good on you and what would be appropriate for each occasion because Elvis always knew what was best for you. He ended up knowing you better than you knew yourself.

The new world that surrounded you, Elvis' world, was intoxicating. You hardly ever had time to think straight or understand what was going on around you. 

But what you did know was that when Elvis touched you, you felt good, so you chased that feeling. 

"C-Can we, can we do the stuff?" You whispered, avoiding Elvis' gaze.

Elvis smirked, oh Lord you were just the most adorable little thing. "The stuff? Well baby, yer gon' have to use a couple more words than that." Elvis said with a dry chuckle, lighting up one of the Cuban cigars that Sammy Davis Jr had gifted him.

You sighed a little, a mix of desperation, impatience, frustration and embarrassment. "Can, c-can you, touch me?" You asked softly. "Please?" You squeaked, pleadingly.

"Oh Little One," Elvis hushed, causing a sweet whine to leave your lips. "Y'need me t'touch you huh baby?" Elvis teased as you nodded almost frantically with wide eyes, leading him to chuckle at your state. "Need me t'make you feel good hm?" Elvis said, his eyes growing dark in comparison to your wide, sparkly eyes.

"Uh-huh," You squeaked adorably, barely an inch between the two of you. 

God, Elvis could just devour you. 

You swallowed the lump in your throat as he cupped your face in his large coarse hands, his left hand also holding his cigar between his fingers, the warm filler of it tinging the skin on your pink cheek, making you wince as you gazed up at him with eyes wider than a Disney princess.

"I ain't gon' touch you tonight honey, no, yer gon' do it all on yer own." Elvis whispered cooly, as you whined at the thought of not having him touch you, your eyes resembling that of a puppy dog as your desperation grew.

"What do you mean?" You murmured looking up at Elvis tentatively with a shaky voice as Elvis placed his large hand on the small of your back and guided you to the bed where he set you down, moving you like you were his own little doll, but in many ways, that's exactly what you were.

"You're so needy Little One, yer gon' have t'learn how to pleasure yerself baby," Elvis teased, facing you as you sat upright, letting his hands roam up your sides as your body trembled in his hold.

You chewed on your lip cutely, "Are you not gon' touch me at all?" You asked, your head tilting.

"No honey, y'gotta learn how to touch yerself, yer gon' touch yerself f'me okay baby?" Elvis instructed and you nodded despite feeling apprehensive. "Good girl." Elvis praised. "All I'm gon' do is get you undressed so I can watch all of you as you play with your lil' pussy."

You shivered as Elvis' coarse hands shimmied your dress up, exposing your white panties that already had a wet patch that was making the fabric sheer and translucent, letting Elvis see the pretty pink flesh that was so needy. 

"Let's get these cute lil' panties off baby, looks like y'need them off." Elvis chuckled making you blush. "Oh baby, m'only teasin." Elvis said, soothing you as he dragged the damp panties over your legs, letting them pool at your feet as he grabbed each leg and helped untangle them from you, all the while being careful not to singe your skin with the burning cigar that he took a puff from every now and then. "Atta girl." He cooed. "Now, pretty girl, spread them legs f'me." Elvis instructed and you did exactly what you were told, gazing at him intently.

Elvis really had taken over your entire life, you basically worshipped the man. Sure, there was a noticeable age difference and there was a definite power imbalance but as much as you worshipped him, Elvis treated you like you were the most delicate, precious thing in his life.

Despite Elvis having all the power, he could practically feel his old men knees buckle whenever you would lie there on the mattress, staring up at him adoringly with those wide eyes full of curiosity and love. Your plump, glossy lips parted ever so slightly as you studied all of Elvis' movements as he took your tender wrist in his large hand, guiding your hand to your slick coated cunt.

Your breathing was shaky at best, your chest rising and falling ever so erratically, making Elvis smirk at how nervous you were, even though he knew how much you needed to be satisfied.

Slowly, he directed his hand over yours, making your soft, small fingers fondle your soaked folds, your slick leaking from your pussy as your fingers traced up and down your slit. 

Your gaze wandered back and forth between Elvis and what was happening 'down there', the curiosity and nervousness getting the better for you as you let out soft gasps and mewls at yours and Elvis' actions.

"Keep going." Elvis commanded, removing his hand from yours, letting you continue on with the motions as you began to pleasure yourself in front of the old man. "Tell me how it feels honey."  Elvis said, his voice emotionless as his eyes darkened on you as you squirmed about.

You blinked hazily, your mind becoming a mess, your attention becoming divided by the overwhelming sense of pleasure and the God of a man that stood at the end of the bed, towering over you, not taking his eyes off you and your body.

Only a single, small lamp illuminated the room in a dull, dark pink tone, the rest of the light coming from the Las Vegas strip, the bright lights reflecting into Elvis' suite, letting Elvis see the silouhette and highlights of your body as you let your fingers rub around your clit in circular motions, eliciting soft whines from you.

"Feels so... feels so nice." You sighed lazily, moving your hips in a pathetic attempt to create more pressure between you and your own hand - but Elvis could only find it adorable how desperate you were. "B-But," You said through breathy whimpers. "Want you."

Elvis smirked, a slight chuckle leaving him, one that had an almost sadistic tone to it as he walked to a chair opposite the bed and sat in it, taking a puff from his cigar, letting the smoke cloud him as he stared at you.

"Not tonight little girl. Yer gon' keep going until yer learn how to make yerself cum like a good girl." Elvis hissed, causing you to whine at his denial. "Tell me what yer gon' learn, I want to hear you say it." Elvis softly demanded.

"Gonna, gonna," You whined, trying to do as you're told all the while touching your cunt. "Learn how t'make myself cum." You recited, your mind becoming hazy and the pace of your fingers quickening.

"Why?" Elvis teased, enjoying watching you battle with yourself, as he made you have to think whilst he knew that all you wanted to do was mindlessly pleasure yourself.

"Good girl, m'a good girl." You whimpered, your eyes beginning to brim with tears.

"That's right baby." Elvis praised, taking a drag from his cigar, never letting his eyes leave your body. "Put your fingers in your pussy for Daddy." Elvis instructed firmly - almost coldly.

You blinked at him, pausing your motions to silently confirm what he had said to you.

"Now." Elvis growled and you nodded tearily, pushing two fingers into your soaked hole, whimpers leaving your lips as your pink cheeks felt tears trickling down them from the sensations and the experience.

"You've never fingered yerself, pretty girl?" Elvis asked, watching your trepidation and jolted movements, he could tell you were experienced from the smallest of things.

All you could manage was a shake of your head as it rested on the mattress, your eyes rolling towards the back of your head as you let your fingers pump in and out of your pink pussy - and if your cheeks weren't already pink enough, Elvis would've seen a blush creeping onto your face at the question.

You cry out adorably from the pleasuring feeling, as you practically hump your own fingers, not noticing that Elvis is now palming the large bulge in his pants.

Oh, how he loved to be the one to corrupt you like this.

"Faster." Elvis demanded before you stared at him with nerves and apprehension in your eyes. "Don't you want to be my good girl?" Elvis teased, exploiting your desire for praise.

You nodded feverishly, tossing your head back onto the mattress as you let your fingers tease your hole at a quicker pace, slipping through your walls, your own slick acting as lube.

"Look at you, so needy, doin' such a good job of playing with your cunt and puttin' on a show fr' Daddy." Elvis praised, knowing his words would send you spiralling.

And he didn't stop, urging you on with gentle commands, praises and downright filthy comments as he got off to you masturbating for the first time.

"Such a needy puppy, ain't ya? That's it, doin' such a good job baby."

"Yer such a pretty sight fr' Daddy, fuckin' yerself with those fingers baby, it's okay, you can go faster, you can do it."

"Just breathe baby, y'can fit in another, I know that pretty pussy of yours can handle it. Good girl, that's it."

"Feelin' good huh? Gon' touch yerself when I'm on stage huh? Yer cunt that desperate huh kid?"

Elvis continued teasing and praising you, talking you through your first orgasm from your own masturbation, your mewls turning into full-blown cries before your body collapsed, and you lethargically pulled your fingers from your glistening, wrecked cunt.

You pushed yourself up and blinked adorably, looking at the wet patches on the silk bedding before you shyly looked up at Elvis.

"M'sorry, I made a mess on your sheets." You whimpered, still feeling overwhelmed and extra-sensitive, sniffling as you wiped away a stray tear.

Elvis couldn't help but smirk at the adorable sight in front of him.

You, the love and light of his life, a naked, flustered, soaked mess on his silk bed sheets, your chest rising and falling erratically as you came down from your self-inflicted high.

"Uh-uh, ain't nothin' t'be sorry about baby." Elvis cooed and he watched relief wash over you as you offered him the goofiest, sweetest smile at the reassurance and Elvis felt his both his heart and cock jump.

How had he been so lucky to have such a sweet, little, naive nymphomaniac such as you?

[sluttywonwoo]

oct 3rd

bang chan x f!reader

smut mdni; unprotected sex, lil bit of degradation/dumbification

“ready for bed, rockstar?”

chris laughs, shaking his wet curls out with the same towel he’d used to dry his body after showering.

“not quite,” he calls from the bathroom as he hangs the the towel up.

you wrack your brain, going through the steps of his nighttime routine in your head. “what’s left to do?”

he smirks. “you.”

you roll your eyes but giggle as he leaps onto the bed and smothers you with his body weight, not even putting up a fight when he starts yanking at the covers to get the blankets off you.

“i don’t even know why i bother with pajamas,” you complain, again not stopping your boyfriend from unbuttoning the top of your matching set. “i always end up naked anyway.”

“i know,” chris hums. “you should be more like me.”

“yeah? showing myself off shirtless to the whole world all the time?”

he pouts. “that’s not what i meant.”

“i know, i know. but you’re lucky i’m good at sharing, by the way. the amount of pictures of your tits that pop up on my social media feeds would make a lot of girlfriends upset.”

“you know the algorithm curates said feeds based on what you’re interested in, so you’re really just telling on yourself,” chris mumbles, slipping your shorts off along with your underwear.

“who wouldn’t be into your tits? i’m not ashamed!”

“well, they’re all yours, baby.”

“tell that to stays,” you mutter.

he chuckles and strokes your face fondly before pushing his thumb into your mouth to get you to suck on it. “they can look but only you can touch.”

you release his thumb from between your lips with a smug grin.

“lucky me.”

the aforementioned smug grin falters when your boyfriend brings his hand down and starts using that same thumb to rub your clit.

“fuck, chris,” you moan, fingers curling around his wrist.

“god, you’re soaked already… what’s this about?”

“seeing you on stage tonight,” you choke out, “you know what you did.”

“ah, did you like my solo stage, baby?” he taunts.

“fuck you.”

“yeah, i thought you would. didn’t know you’d like it this much though.”

he speeds up and you arch your back, pushing your hips into his touch. he kisses you as he works you to the edge, trying to swallow your moans so you don’t get another noise complaint. chris tries to think about who you’re sharing a wall with tonight. he knows it’s one of the boys because he was the one given all of the room keys to hand out to the members when they checked in but he couldn’t remember which one was supposed to be right next door. was it seungmin? lino? whoever it is, he hopes they're already asleep.

“what is it, baby? are you close?”

you start to nod but then shake your head. “want you,” you whine.

“you have me,” he whispers.

"want you to fuck me," you clarify.

"oh really?"

you tug at his arm, motioning for him to get on top of you. he obliges and you wrap your legs around his waist to pull him even closer. it works but he doesn't slide inside of you just yet. instead, he teases you with it, moving his hips like he would if he were fucking you.

“need me to stretch you out first?” he asks.

“nah, you have to get up early in the morning we should make this quick.”

“how romantic,” he scoffs.

“you felt how wet i was! i don’t need anything else. just your cock.”

he sighs, hanging his head. "fine."

"don't be so dramatic," you murmur. "if you're that torn up about it you can wake me up with your fingers. or use them to push your cum back inside of me after you fuck me."

chris buries his head in your shoulder, whimpering out a quiet "fuck" against your neck as his cock twitches between your legs.

"i love you," he moans.

"i know," you reply. "i love you too."

chan finally pushes into you, just the head at first, but it's enough to get you to moan.

"shh, baby. don't want the neighbors to hear."

you nod in understanding, biting your bottom lip. "sorry."

"s'okay. i know it feels good."

"feels so good, channie," you agree.

he lifts an eyebrow. "channie already? wow, baby, you're even further gone than i thought."

"c-can't help it."

"i know. only takes an inch of cock to turn you into my soft girl, huh?"

"mhm."

"what'll happen if i give you more? are you sure you'll be able to take it?"

you tighten your thighs around chan's hips, trying to force him deeper inside of you. he's much stronger than you, though, and easily resists your efforts.

"i can take it!"

"you sure?"

"yes, i'll be good! i'll be so good!"

"i know you'll be good," chris chuckles. "you're always- almost always good for me. i'm just worried any more of my cock will make you completely brainless."

"so? when has that ever stopped you before?"

"good point."

"please, chris," you beg, tears gathering on your lash line.

"it's back to chris? what happened to channie?"

"i'll call you whatever you want if you fuck me," you promise, moving on from begging to bargaining.

"i don't care what you call me-"

"oh, hyun-"

"except my friends' names," he mutters, scoffing in disbelief. "that desperate you're resorting to brattiness now? i should just pull out and-"

"no, please! i'm sorry!"

"i'm sure you are."

you want to point out that you know he loves it when you're a little bratty, that he gets off on it, but you also know that it won't help your case.

"i'll make it up to you," you say instead.

"yeah? how?"

"you'll find out."

"is it by making me cum?"

you purse your lips. "maybe?"

he rolls his eyes. "fine, but i bet i'll make you cum first."

you offer him your hand and shake on it despite not discussing any terms or stakes.

"you're on."

[lxvvie]

i work at a theme park, so every day i see dads with their little kids carrying them, giving them a high five, lifting them when there’s a parade so they can see ☹️✨ it makes me so happy, it makes me think of the boysss. how would they be in a theme park as parents? you can do only the one-four-one boys if you want to

I see Price as the dad getting all the compliments when he's out with his child(ren), ranging from how darling they are, how calm and well-behaved they are, how at ease he is with them, and oh, is he seeing someone? Currently? Right in front of you and your funnel cake...?

Soap is the dad who 110% does just about everything with his wee little ones. Scared to get on that one ride? S'okay, he's right there with ya. Want that one toy in that game? Sure thing, he'll win it for them. That one dickhead dad and his kid cut in front of Soap and his own? Best believe he'll fight for his and his wee one's honor.

Gaz and his kid(s) are the ones who really go for the food so they'll be trying just about anything they can, honestly. Oh, and the games! They like a good game. As a whole, they tend to stay FAR away from the mascots and clowns. Once Gaz was dared to go on the highest roller coaster in the park by his kid(s) and daredevil that he can be sometimes, um... we'll leave it at that.

Ghost is the dad his kid(s) use to carry the stuffed animals won so he's almost always walking out of the theme park with an arm full of them. Is usually seen standing to the side, arms crossed, and keeping his eye on you and the little ones as you wait in line to get on a ride or grab food or whatever. Will also have his kids on his shoulders or in his arms, too, if they want to see the parade.

Rudy is the mom dad who keeps water, sunscreen, and a park map on hand; if you and he split up so you can take the kids to do their thing, it's check-ups galore via the cell and a designated meet-up spot to reconvene.

Alejandro and his children are just there to have fun. He's the dad whose kids make him get a caricature drawing that you will frame and hang up at home, some face painting done, and it's pictures galore. Too many to count but it's worth it to him. He remembers you and your children's smiles and laughter the best.

Köthulhu and his Köthulhi may or may not give the mascots hell. Probably. As a dare. Which earns him and the kids a stern look from you. But really, you all use Mount Königmanjaro as the personal crowd-parter guy because he's massive, you use him to win those dart balloon games, and you make him stand in line for food or something when you have to step out to attend to the kids because... who gone check him?

[ink-n-shadow]

angel!reader escapes demon!ghosts place and he goes on a whole manhunt please oh please

omg this would definitely take place a day or two after angel was taken down to the Underworld by demon!ghost. like before they get close

[ RUNAWAY ] 𝜗𝜚 the one where angel!reader tries to escape demon!ghost's palace

𝜗𝜚 pairing: broken angel!reader x demon!ghost 𝜗𝜚 cw: angel attempting to escape, demon!ghost chasing after angel, might be slight noncon? (minors—DNI), demon!ghost referring to you as a pet, unedited (as usual) 𝜗𝜚 link to all my works in the demon!ghost au can be found here

you should've known that a demon wasn't really going to help you. the amount of stories and fables you had been told since you were a baby fledgling should've been enough to tell you that demons couldn't be trusted.

and yet here you were, sitting in some swinging gold cage suspended up above what looked to be a seating area of a brooding castle with a still very broken wing. the panic is beginning to course through your veins, making your lungs seize up with each ragged breath you take.

you had to get out of here.

so the next time the demon lowers your cage down onto the floor, leaving the cage door unlocked as he digs through a box of putrid snacks for you to refuse to eat, you make your break for it.

your vision becomes a blur as you whirl through the expansive hallways of whatever palace you're being kept in, wings pulled tight against your body and legs pumping to carry you as quickly as they can.

the demon's following behind you at a leisurely pace, chuckling lowly as he calls out, "ya won't get very far, little fledgling."

and the demon is right. the palace is sprawling, multiple hallways and foyers of doors that seemingly lead nowhere. you're running in circles, tugging on locked handles and banging on windows that seemingly have no latches to even pull them open.

you eventually find a door to the outside world of Hell, scrambling across burnt ashy ground as you claw your way across what you can only hope is the front yard. until you find yourself running through an intricate labyrinth, shrubs of thorny rose bushes and hollyhocks forcing you to stay on a path you could only hope would lead to the exit.

your lungs are burning on Hell's air, eyes stinging from the ash and soot being kicked up by your quick feet. your wings are bristling, tucked close to your body as if to cocoon yourself away from the outside elements.

you don't even know how long you've been running circles in this labyrinth until the exhaustion suddenly catches up to you, limbs turning to molasses and your heaving breaths morphing into wallowing sobs and whimpers. you catch your collapsing body on a marbled statue in the middle of the labyrinth, choking on a sob as you slowly crumble into a pile of twitching muscles and ash.

when the demon eventually catches up to you, you're too burnt out to even try and fight against his clawed hands as he scoops you up into his arms with ease, wiping at the ash and soot slicking your sweaty skin. his fork tongue clicks against his teeth, mixing with a grumbled chuckle as he begins walking back through the labyrinth with practiced ease.

"tried to tell you, didn't i?" the demon murmurs softly, smoothing the unruly hairs in front of your eyes with the fat of his thumb. "ya won't get away from me—i caught you fair 'n fuckin' square. s'okay though, i'll take good care of ya. just might have to make you keep you leashed."

[marvelfanfics1]

hiii! idk if you’re requests are open but I was wondering if you could do a daddy wade x little girl reader (i can already hear him call her peanut!)where she skins her knee playing but tries to hide it from him and when he finds out she tells him she wanted to regenerate like her daddy🥹

Just like you

Pairing: daddy!wade x little!reader

Warnings: age regression, fluff, hurt knee, tiny mention of blood, comfort

As a little with a mercenary as a caregiver who's often gone during the day you know how to keep yourself entertained without getting bored, sometimes watching too much cartoons than you were allowed but other than that you were a good peanut.

Another day with Wade being gone and about to earn some money, with the promise to be there for movie night, you were busy playing to make the time go faster.

Looking through your toy chest you pull out a cape, giggling in delight you quickly fasten it around your neck. You also grab two stuffies to play with, rushing to the living room.

Wade was a hero in your eyes, obviously. He doesn't exactly tells you what happens exactly during his jobs, just snippets and not any gory details for obvious reasons, but nonetheless he's your hero. That's why you love to pretend you are a hero yourself.

As you keep playing that you're rescuing your hostage stuffed bunny from a cat you run around the living room, jumping up and down the couch you lose your balance and fall knees first onto the hardwood floor with a yelp.

You sit on the floor, pouting at your now bloody knees and hesitantly touch one and wince at the sting. "Owie..."

But you don't start crying. Your daddy doesn't cry either, he sucks it up and keeps going with the knowledge that he will regenerate in no time. So, with a huff you get up and continue playing as if nothing happened.

A while later you are sitting on the couch watching a cartoon as you hear the front door unlocking and Wade steps inside, still wearing his suit and carries a bag of takeaway.

"Daddy's home!" He loudly announces himself. "That'll never get old." He walks over to the counter that separates the kitchen from the living area to set down the bag and takes off his mask as well.

The second his hands are free you quickly get up and run into his awaiting arms. "Missed you daddy."

He smiles, picking you up by your thighs and kisses the tip of your nose. "I missed you too, peanut. Bet you had more fun than me. You didn't start our movie night without me, did you?"

"Nooo, I could neva! Waited jus' for you." You giggle, eyeing the bag of food your stomach growls. "What's this?"

"I got your favorite takeout." He says, chuckling at the way you're almost drooling at the sight. "Get settled on the couch and I'll be there in a minute, 'kay?"

You nod enthusiastically, rushing back to your previous spot when Wade set you back on the ground.

Soon enough he got changed into something comfortable and you both are eating your dinner on the couch while he tells you about today's job, making sure it's appropriate for your current headspace.

When you finish eating and Wade has put on the movie you got to choose this week you get more comfortable.

Wade sits back down next to you, grabbing a fluffy blanket to cover you both but stops when he gets a glimpse of your knees. "Peanut, what's this?"

"Huh? Oh, that happened when I was playing hero. S'okay, jus' hurts a little!" You shrug it off with a smile.

"Why didn't you tell me earlier?" He sighs.

"Wanted to be like you daddy." You mumble, looking down at your hands.

His eyes soften at that, a small smile replacing his frown. "Like me?"

"Mhm, wanted to regenerate like you 'cause is so cool!"

"Oh peanut, you're too sweet for this world. Wait here, I'll be right back."

Sure enough he comes back with a pack of hello kitty bandaids, kneeling down beside the couch and quickly unwrapping two of them, placing them carefully on your knees. "There, all patched up. You're still just like me, y'know? You just need a little longer to regenerate than me and that's okay."

"Really?" You ask a little uncertainty, tilting your head.

"Oh, hell yeah. You're just as cool as me and that means we deserve this." He pulls out two lollipops and you squeal, instantly reaching out for it. "Let me unwrap it first."

He settles back down next to you, letting you snuggle into his side before taking the wrapping off and handing you your treat.

He wraps an arm around you, kissing your head. "You'll always be my cool peanut."

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ ✧˖°

Taglist

@chimindity

For everything:

@my-river-lilly @pauntedblacknails @fanfictioniseverything @devilslilbabysblog @buckymydarlingangel @hallecarey1 @daybreakwinter @loveshineslikethesky @wandaslittlewhore @vase-of-lilies @white-wolf1940 @simpingbutch @mischiefsemimanaged @alina02 @teddybearsgrr @doozywoozy @angelbabydoll28 @glxwingrxse @lilymurphy03 @veryvaughnny @lokigirlszendaya @youngstarfishdinosaur @little--baby--bear @minideathgoddess @rach2602 @gh0stgurl @flourishandblotts-inc @lovelyy-moonlight @yoruse

@mythixmagic @iris-xoxo-juhu

For Marvel only:

@aagn360

[strangerhottotties]

Just an Eddie thought. Him calling reader Girl Scout or something similar after realizing why they know all these knots that are definitely not used for their intended purpose…

Not me immediately researching knots and rigging 🤣🤣🤣

The first time it captures his attention is in the upside down, or right before you come out.

"Shit!" Dustin curses for the forth time, trying to tie the sheets together above you. You watch the sheets slip apart as the yank, not holding at all.

"Dustin! Throw them over here!" You finally demand through the chorus of groaning. Dustin glances up at you.

"I can do it!" He yells.

"Dustin! It is cold, and gross, and slimy over here! Throw me the goddamn sheets or so help me, I will climb through it without it and you do not want that!"

Dustin yeilds halfway through your speech, using Lucas to help him haul all the sheets up and throw them through in balls of fabric. Eddie watches with amusement as you don't even stall once, dropping into a low squat to retrieve them. Your immediately not just tying the ends together, but using real knots.

It's a practiced motion. You've done this, he thinks, more than once. There's no hesitation and in under ten seconds you have the first two sheets linked together.

Eddie tilts his head as he watches you tug them tight and slide to the next knot. You barely even looking, still paying avid attention to the conversation around and contributing. You are sparing glances at your hands but in under a minute your launching the rope of sheets into the air and Eddie is wondering to himself, exactly how you knew how to do that.

"Good job, girl scout," he comments and in the dim lighting, he watches as your cheeks darken.

"Uh, yeah. Thanks." You reply, avoiding eye contact.

Eddie knows in that moment. He doesn't have solid evidence, but he knows. You're either a rigger or a rope bunny. At least until everyone's trying to find something in Eddie's music collection that he catches you staring at the cuffs slung on the wall.

It's inopportune to ask further questions for well... nearly the whole day it ate him. And then when he was hot wiring that RV... oh, did he see the way you were looking at him. That far away look in your eyes, he caught in the wide rear view mirror, made him flash pearly whites your way.

When Eddie hops up to allow Steve to drive, climbing into the back he makes a beeline to the seat you're in. As Steve pulls out Eddie's dropping down beside you, and the rough run out of the trailer park has you toppling right into Eddie's lap.

"Sorry! Shit!" You squeak in a way that goes south in the best possible way for Eddie.

"S'okay, Girl Scout," he purrs in your ear. He eats the flustered glare you give him right up as Steve evens the rig out on the road.

"Stop calling me that," you hiss, "I'm not a girl scout."

"Oh," he tells you with a malicious grin, "I know." He leans into your ear. You blink owlishly at him, and loves to watch your face go all horrorish and flushed pink. "But, uh, when this whole thing is over... You'll have to show me the, uh, other knots you know."

"Oh," you repeat and after a beat of silence, "okay," is your response. For a moment, Eddie thinks the universe might be balancing out for all the shit that it's slinging at him.

He spends the rest of the ride to the store with his hand on your thigh.

[sturnioz]

https://www.tumblr.com/sturnioz/755752342942597120/hear-me-out-hear-me-out-3some-with-fratchris

what if i said i forgot to add my emoji tag to this lol... 🕸️

heres a lil blurb (drabble????) WHAT is the difference is there even a difference between these two words?? 😣

—

you didnt intend to come in the first place. your friends were just so convincing, and the promise of maybe meeting someone and getting a good hook up out of it was the cherry on top. ditching your normal clothes for a dress, you were downing shots with a group of people you didn't recognize.

sometime in the midst of the party, you lost your friend group. a quick text showed that they were practically on the other side of the house, and who would be enough of a fool to try and push through a crowd of drunk and high teens? so you went with the flow of the party, snagging a drink here and there and finding yourself in the middle of a group of guys and girls.

some you knew. recognizable scattered faces from your classes were sprinkled among the group, and a few faces you didn't recognize. two, in particular, caught your eyes. they looked practically identical, only one with longer tufts of brown hair peeking under the hat he wore, the other had his shorter yet no less good looking. you didnt mean to stare, only realizing when you caught the eye of the one with a hat on as he quickly elbowed his twin and jerked his chin at you with a little smirk.

"oh, fuck— keep doin' that, feels s'good..." the words tumble from your mouth without realizing, chris' tongue licking a stripe up your horribly wet pussy, a little chuckle rumbling the back of his throat. rough fingers dug into the skin of your thighs, head thrown back on matt's shoulder. his ringed hands groped at your breasts, pressing little kisses down the column of your neck.

"i didnt think you'd be such a slut, baby. s'that feel good? chris loves goin' down on girls, y'know?" matt's voice was an amused ring in your ear as he played with the flesh of your boobs, all while chris lapped at your cunt like a man starved. his tongue dipped in a few times, making your hips jolt up, and a strangled cry came from you as he wrapped his lips around your clit and sucked gently.

"cum for me, c'mon." chris pulled away from your cunt for just a second to talk, and then you were cumming before you really registered it, the only warning being the way your moans got louder and you tried closing your thighs in on chris' face. the attempts only being futile as his hands kept them firmly open. all the while matt's pointer and thumb finger pinched at your nipple, his lips trailing across your jawline.

and then you're being gripped at and your head is hanging off the end of the bed, eyes staring at the bulge in chris' pants and then straining your head to the smug grin on his face. familiar ringed fingers gripped your thighs, ankles being thrown haphazardly over matt's shoulders as the prodding tip of his cock nudged at your entrance. you were shaking, moaning, only to be shut up by chris' fingers suddenly in your mouth.

"shh, s'okay baby.. ohh, yeah, bet that feels good. y'ever have a cock as big as matt's up your cunt?" chris' words were teasing as he watched you shake your head and whimper around his fingers as your pussy gripped around matt's dick. from the way he was groaning and cursing under his breath, you could only guess he felt good as well.

your eyes rolled back as chris' fingers left your mouth, matt starting up a rhythm with his hips where he pulled out to his tip only to slam the whole thing back in. through the sound of skin slapping against skin, you heard rustling. then you were staring at chris' cock that he was pumping.

"open your mouth, yeahh, jus' like that.." he slowly eased it in, and you were quick to gag around it which caused a grunt from chris. he was staring at matt, the two sharing the most shit-eating grins on their faces as chris pulled out for a bit and then pushed to the back of your throat. his head threw back and his hand came to steady himself at your throat, the bulge from his dick visible as he placed his thumb on top of it with a giggle.

"god, fuck— y'feel so good baby... doin' such a good job, little whore," it was matt this time. he only moved faster once chris started roughly fucking his cock into your throat, hands reaching blindly behind you to grip at his thighs. your eyes shut and you gagged around him, spit starting to build at the corners of your mouth as you tried to relax your throat out.

their words matched their pace. rough and degrading, and you felt matt's hips stutter a few times as he grunted out a little 'cumming—' and you heard chris exhale heavily. matt's release came first, ropes of cum splattering against your gummy walls as he panted and rubbed his thumb across your clit. with a jerk of your hips and few moans around chris' cock, you were cumming again and chris was painting your throat white.

"god, you're a fucking slut." you didn't know who said that, eyes blinking open as you felt the two brother's pull out of you. soothing hands rubbed at your thighs though and then chris' thumb gathered some of the saliva stuck to your face as he giggled.

"shit, we got her kinda messy, matt. sorry, baby. we'll clean you up, 'kay?" and you're nodding slowly as you feel chris connect his lips to yours and matt press a gentle kiss to your leaking pussy.

oh my gosh was this too long???? not proofread at all btw err.. i rlly want this to be off anon but uh 😓😓 LOLL I FORGOT HOW FUN IT WAS TO WRITE SMUT 💞

— 🕸️

ok. you need to post smut rn.. like actually this instant. how much do i need to pay you ? im so serious. what the actual fuck. im telling everyone this was made for me.