#i don’t feel very coherent right now but just

[livelaughlovesubs]

hellooo, i love your writing but im not used to sending asks so forgive me if anything is said poorly or if i do it wrong somehow, but i was curious if your up for writing obey me characters still?

if you are, could i request just ravaging asmo, like to the point where hes crying and not forming coherent sentences, and then just completely switching up after and giving super sweet aftercare? this is sort of inspired by the dazai aftercare post except i want the smut lmao

feel free to refuse or completely ignore this request if you dont feel up to it!

also could i be 🫶 anon? i looked through your anon list and im pretty sure that ones not taken!

remember to take care of yourself and take your time! i hope you're doing well! :)

-🫶

Hello hello~ don’t worry, you are doing great :] Also this will be my first time writing for obey me, bear with me alright? (I only got to chapter/ lesson 22 when I used to play it)

Dom!reader x sub!Asmodeus - reader is gender neutral

Warning: pegging (I use dick), hair pulling, marks, mind break, overstimulation, multiple rounds, a little exhibition?

Creaking sounds lingered around your ears, alongside the breathy moans of the male underneath you. These heavenly noises bounced off the walls, loud enough to seep through the cracks of the door. You were almost worried that other people would hear him, it would be pretty embarrassing at breakfast tomorrow. Though, asmo certainly wouldn’t mind, he’d even brag and show off his hickeys to everyone. How did you know? Because if he had any ounce of shame, he wouldn’t be screaming his lungs out like this. No one can tell you this little slut here doesn’t want his brothers to know he was getting used like a fleshlight.

You took a deep breath, closing your eyes for a moment and slowing down, gathering some energy. What time was it, how long have you two been going at it? The stamina of a demon really was scary, to think he was still able to stay awake after was felt like an eternity. He was exhausted too, but he still wanted to keep going. “Haha..” you chuckled as you gazed at his messy face, smiling in amusement at the lewd display in front of you. Asmo was such a charming man, his hair had an indescribable colour that was unique to none other than him. Truly a marvellous gift from god himself. And now, it was sticking to his forehead, all wet due to the layer of sweat covering his skin.

His angelic face was fated to be his weapon for temptation, such a beauty was truly irresistible, befitting of his title as the avatar of lust. Those gorgeous golden eyes were shining like stars, lightening up each time you trusted deep inside him. You almost felt guilty, for defiling that innocent appearance of his. The saying of ‘don’t judge a book by its cover’ was like tailored for him, for this devil with the most saint-like appearance you’ve ever came across. Everything he did was erotic and inviting, causing you to want to ruin him more. Until any traces of that natural pureness he had were wiped away by lust.

“AaahhGg~..! Oh, y/n, right thereeee mhHmm!!” Asmodeus moaned out your name, his voice sweet and coated with honey. His back was facing you, and he arched his body into a crescent shape. Hips and ass high in the air, while his face was being pushed into the very pillow he was hugging. One of your hands were tangled in his rose-tainted hair, switching up from stroking his locks to yanking on them whenever you saw fit. Each time you’d rough him up, he’d whimper shamelessly, grinning from ear to ear as he shakes his butt for you.

He was so beautiful right now. So very stunning. That once cheeky face now all decorated with tears and drool, all blushy like a maiden fresh in love. His eyes rolled back sometimes, as well as him sticking his tongue out and trembling in pleasure. Despite the impaling realisation that he would pass out if this continued any longer, he didn’t yield, only begging you to give him more. Who were you to deny your darlings wishes? You wanted to give him everything he wanted, even if it will cause him back pain for the days to come.

The other hand was on his hips, helping him holding his body up to meet your trusts. Your pace was a steady one, but pretty slow. That’s because your body was sore as well from pounding him for hours. Asmo didn’t mind it, because you were still so good at it, even if you were tired. Every time you drove your length inside him, it hit his abused and used prostate with such accuracy that he can’t help but cry out in bliss. “AhhNnGg! Harder~ ooOOhhH!!” His hole was all red and swollen, it was so puffy, yet he was still able to clench around you. You could feel his insides squeezing your dick, not letting you pull it out of him.

“Such a dirty boy, how did you survive so long without me?” You teased, pulling on his hair suddenly, ending with him throwing his head back with a yelp. “AhH! i- heh, I guess I wasn’t re-really living mHmm~ before meeting you then.” The demon answered, still capable of smiling at you, even if the said smile looked like the dumb grin of a cheap prostitute. “My my, your choice of words are still as romantic as ever. Can you handle another round, asmo?” His dick twitched at your words, leaking some more precum onto the puddle of semen beneath him. “HnGg, of co-course..! Ahh~ y/n, fuck me <3”

A smirk spread on your lips, and you let go of his light brown hair. Instead, you used both hands to hold his waist tightly, enough for it to bruise. “Then I won’t hold myself back.” You said, as a kind of warning. Asmo looked over his shoulder and your eyes met, the desire in his pupils were evident on his body as well as in your eyes. Another giggle slipped from your lips before you moved backwards, then snapping your hips against his in a fast pace. “AhGGhhH! Mo-moRRe!!” While the devil groaned out a series of encouragements for you to continue rutting into him like some beast, he could feel another orgasm approaching. His stomach curled so intensely, and electricity was coursing through his body.

The expression on his face was so dumb, so fucked out of it that he looked like he lost his mind. As if he succumbed to pleasure, him, the very fundament of lust. “Ah.. damn it, you are such a pretty boy asmo.. heh.” You complimented him among all these ruthless thrusts, it was a gentleness he didn’t know he needed to spill over the edge. “NgHHh! Uh-uhMm, I’m cu-cummINNgG <3!!” More tears rolled down his messy cheeks as his orgasm washed over him, this time he didn’t look as sane as before. No, he looked like he was drunk on the ecstasy and pleasure. It was so good, so so so good he couldn’t fathom it! It crashed down on him and his poor, slim body in waves, it was more than what he could handle!

Hearts were sparkling in his pupils, and his hands clutched the pillow so hard that it ripped. He even accidentally switched to his demon form, so his horns, wings and tail popped out. At this point he couldn’t think nor speak properly anymore, only repeating the same phrases like a broken radio. Whines and gasps of pleasure continued to fill the room of the boy, and his tongue was hanging out of his mouth like some dog in heat. Ropes of cum spurt out of his dick, dirtying the sheets below him. His thighs quivered, some of his slick also ran down his inner thighs. After helping him ride out his high, you slowly and gently pulled the cock out of him. Then, you also released his hips.

Two imprints of your hands were left behind, and you couldn’t hide a sadistic smirk. To your surprise asmo whispered to you in a meek voice, “keep.. mhm, holding me..” He was just a twitchy something now, limping on his bed while his brain was still processing all the sensations. It was simply too much, he was going to take a while until he’ll be responsive again. Even so he still craved your touch, he did have an adorable side to him didn’t he?

“I’ll, if that’s what you want.” You replied and grabbed his tiny waist again, this time you leaned down and pressed your body against his. After waiting and taking a break for a new minutes, you kissed his neck softly, before mumbling quietly, “wanna go wash up now, love?” Not once have you left his side while waiting patiently, giving him some time to reorganise. “Hmmm… can’t we stay like t-this a tad longer?” Asmo pouted and sighed, already feeling sore and the aftermath of the long session. God, he was still stumbling over his words! Just how hard did you fuck him? He will definitely walk funnily tomorrow, if he can even stand on his own two legs. “We can still cuddle after taking a shower. Come on, you go first while I clean up.” You suggested, knowing that he was totally out of energy.

“Nuuu! I want to stay like this! Pleaseeee? Pretty please??” He blinked at you, looking at you with puppy eyes, knowing that this trick always works on you. “Ugh! Fine, fine, if that’s what my princess here wants.” You sighed, acting annoyed at him doing as he pleased. “Hehe~” the devil laughed satisfied, resting his chin on the pillow as he enjoyed your touch. Next thing he knew you kissed his cheeks, while tugging his still chaotic hair behind his ear. While you did those things, you said with a little smile, “You did well asmo, I’m so proud of you.”

Huh. Where did that come from? Out of nowhere his face heated up again, and that right after you thought he had calmed down. “Aww, you are so cute y/n!” He responded immediately, though a hint of nervousness was laced and hidden behind his voice. Was the avatar of lust perhaps flustered or embarrassed about your words? Pff. You laughed in his face, before giving his forehead a peck. “Ahh~ I love you, my prince.”

[highkey-lowkey-as-hell]

thinking about the fact that eris and jenny look exactly alike

[fingertipsmp3]

Just remembered I really definitely unambiguously need to shower tonight because I’m going out tomorrow

[azsazz]

The Magic Number

Kinktober Day 28: Hockey Player!Azriel, Rhysand, & Cassian x Reader [Overstimulation]

Summary: Req from godsend @vellichor01 : For the hockey idea, I love the idea of Azris or poly!batboys using you 😏😏 as their good luck charm the night before the championship game

Warnings: Smut, oral (both f and m receiving), use of toys (vibrator), fingering, anal, double penetration, foursome.

Word Count: 5,258

Notes: I'm having one of those moments...

_________________________________________

“C’mon, you know how this goes,” Cassian drawls, stroking a thumb across your cheek. His words are soft, kind, but the heat swallowing the color of his eyes is anything but. It makes your cunt pulse. “Been our lucky charm all this season, can’t break the streak now, can we, baby?”

You hum, looking at him through half-lidded eyes. Excitement stirs your gut as you stare up at the three, large hockey players taking up the expanse of your tiny living room. Azriel leans against the door they’d just come through, his hazel gaze pinned on you. Rhys is perched on the edge of your desk, arms crossed over his chest, looking every bit as serious as the captain of the hockey team should be. And Cass stands before you, his stature demanding and hot. They make you ache to your very core. “What’s in it for me?” You tease, batting your lashes.

“I can promise you at least three earth-shattering orgasms,” Cassian responds, pointing from Rhys to Azriel, then to himself.

Your face contorts, nose scrunching at his words. “Only three?”

Cassian’s eyes glitter. “Think you can handle more?”

You tilt your chin up in defiance. You know you can handle more. Have spent weekends locked away with them, ripping orgasm after orgasm from you until you’d lost count, had been nothing but a sobbing, shaking, wet mess beneath their lips and fingertips.

“I just don’t know if that’s enough anymore, boys,” you sigh dramatically, pulling your chin from his grasp. “You get all of this luck and I get to be sore for days? How is that fair?” You’re lying, and they know you’re lying. You’re not just terrible at it, but you love being sore for days, feeling where their cocks have abused your cunt with each step you take. You love the marks that their needy, manhandling hands leave on your skin, the bruises from their teeth and lips. You bite your own, shoving that thought from your mind.

“What do you want then, darling?” Rhys purrs, pushing himself from the desk to make his way closer. Azriel follows on an unspoken command, until they flank Cassian’s sides. They loom over you like Gods, and you have to crane your neck back to peer up at them from your spot on the couch. Fuck, they look absolutely stunning. How you’ve managed to bag the three star players of the hockey team, you’ll never know. Rhys’ voice takes on a huskeir note, violet eyes simmering with molten desire as he continues, “Want to tie us up and take what’s yours? Want to watch us fuck each other? All we need from you is one orgasm each, darling, and we’ll win the championship game tomorrow, I know it.”

His words make you shiver. Is that what you want? To be in charge for the night? You’d been doing this with them for the entire season, but the thought had never crossed your mind. You’re usually too cock drunk to form a coherent thought.

But the way that they tower over you, looking down at you as if you’ve changed their entire world, makes your stomach flip. They’ve always taken care of you, all three of them, and it’s more than nice, being guided into positions that put your pleasure first. They know you better than you know yourself. Sexually, they know you inside and out. They are the epitome of men right now, burly and large and oh so fucking irresistible. It makes you want to open your mouth and part your legs, let them have your way with you.

You just might.

You look from Rhysand to Cassian, Cassian to Azriel. They’re fresh from practice, hair damp from showers at the rink, tight shirts stretched across broad shoulders with the exception of Cassian, he would never wear a piece of clothing again if he had the choice, and comfortable gray sweats hang low around their waists like they know what it does to you. 

Godsdamn what it does to you.

“Come on, baby,” Cassian all but whines when you don’t respond. “What can we do to convince you this is for the good of the team?”

Nothing. They don’t have to do a damn thing to convince you of this, because you know. Somehow, the three hockey players you’ve found yourself fucking this season decided that you were their lucky charm, having won each and every game after they’d shared you. It’s something of a pre-game tradition now.

But it’s still fun to tease.

“I don’t know,” you coo, leaning back in your seat. You slip your toes between Cassian’s wide stance and prop your feet on the coffee table behind him. “I think that Tarquin on the Sea Lion's is pretty goo—”

“Do not finish that sentence,” Azriel growls, eyes so dark it makes your thighs quiver.

“What if, this time,” Rhysand leans down, planting his hands on either side of the couch, trapping you. His sultry voice awakens goosebumps on your skin, his breath hot in his ear as he leans down, lips brushing the shell. “We stuff you with our cum, then shove a little plug up that tight little cunt of yours to secure our luck. You’d like that darling, wouldn’t you? To be stuffed with us until after the game? Keeping you nice and full?”

You nearly bite through your lip holding in a moan. Your head threatens to teeter back on your neck, eyes rolling back into your skull as a full shiver wracks your body in the best way. Holy fuck do you love it when they talk dirty to you, planting new ideas in your head, things beyond your wildest dreams.

Cassian’s adding, watching you struggle with a smirk. “When we win, I’ll eat it out of you.”

“Isn't showing up to the game enough?” you ask innocently, thighs pressed so tightly together they’re shaking with effort. But you’re being strong. There’s still room to play with them.

“No,” they all answer in unison. 

It’s Azriel who takes a gentler approach. It’s a little surprising. He’s normally the quietest of the three, saving soft spoken endearments for when it’s just the both of you or when the other two have fallen into post-orgasm cat naps. 

He kneels before you, hands brushing up your bare legs in what is supposed to be a soothing manner, but the motion only makes you hotter. Wetter. He’s looking at you with sincerity, like he might actually believe that you’re going to refuse them.

As if that would ever happen.

“What do you want, love?” he asks, so gently it nearly makes your heart crack. The strokes of his thumbs on your skin match his tone, tender. 

“I want you to kiss me, Az.”

He can do that. He spreads your legs to slip between, using his grip on the meat of your thighs to pull you closer. You’re the same height as him, sitting on the couch as he is kneeling, and you don’t hesitate to wrap your arms around his neck, fingers burying deep into those dark locks. His touch wanders to your face, caressing your jaw before pulling you into a slow, sensual kiss.

Your body bursts with pleasure. His tongue strokes softly against your own as he parts your lips. It’s a tentative motion, but becomes more sure when you whimper softly into his mouth. Azriel’s fingers grip loosely to the nape of your neck, pulling you even closer to him. So close, that you can feel the erratic pounding of his beating heart pressed against your own.

You can feel Cassian and Rhysand’s heated gazes on the both of you. It feels all too good, having their attention like this. Knowing that with the slightest of moves on your part, they’ll all be harder than stone. It eggs you on, kiss going from slow and steady, an exploration of each other’s mouths, to something hotter, rougher. Azriel sucks on your tongue and nips at your lips. Your fingers tug at his hair as your spine lengthens, pressing yourself closer to his chest.

Kissing Azriel is like being shrouded in shadow. He consumes you, body and soul. It’s the best kind of kiss, one that calms you when you’re anxious, a strong and steady presence. You can lose yourself for days in the taste of his lips, the feeling of his sure posture against yours.

Cassian takes hold of you quickly, inserting himself into the kiss you and Azriel find yourselves lost in. You make a noise of surprise. Having both of them licking into your mouth is no easy feat, but somehow, the men seem to know exactly what to do, as if they’re as in-synch now as they are on the ice.

Slowly, Azriel edges himself away from the kiss. He pries your fingertips from himself, no matter how much he loves the way you cling to him. He places them on Cassian’s shoulders, where you curl them harshly into his tanned skin and force him closer.

Kissing Cassian ignites a fire in your soul. It’s passionate, brash, and full of love. There is no doubt in your mind that this man was made for you, to walk through that fire for you, to reach your innermost self. He’s a warrior on and off the ice, in love and in life. He will fight for you no matter what, and you love him for it.

It’s always fun having Cassian like this, all needy and hot. His cock is swollen against the loose fabric of his sweatpants, and you can tell he’s not wearing underwear when you grind your hips against his, drawing a guttural moan from his lips. You drink it down greedily, keening in response. You’re getting just as desperate now, needing to feel their cocks in your cunt, filling you up with their cum until you’re so full you could burst.

But Rhysand is untangling you from Cassian with a look that leaves no room to argue. You’re panting, staring up at Cassian with a wildness that says this isn’t over. He grins, the sharps of his canines glinting in the lamp light. 

“Go, get ready,” Rhys orders the other two, and you cling to him as he lifts you into his arms, wrapping your legs around his waist as he strides towards the door. 

Instead of walking through it, he’s pressing you into the wall next to it, dipping down to devour your mouth in one fell swoop. 

Kissing Rhys makes you feel like a Queen. He’s demanding, showing you exactly what he wants. It makes you want to submit, fall to your knees and please him as he sees fit. It’s reassurance and confidence and pleasure in its finest form. He makes you feel like you’re on top of the world, like your soul belongs to something more. You would bow for him, and he for you.

He hooks his knee up, settling your weight onto it as his fingers find the hem of your shirt. His mouth is a distraction for his hands, gliding the fabric up and over your head, breaking the kiss for only a fleeting moment before he’s grabbing you again and plastering your front to his chest  as he strides towards your room.

You’re lost in the way his tongue dances with yours. You love to hear his words, silky and playful, skilled with years of business classes, his backup if hockey doesn’t work out someday.

Rhys places you on the bed, breaking the kiss, but before you can even whimper your displeasure, Cassian’s boxing you in, fitting himself between your legs as you slide backwards. He follows like a hungry lion, devouring you with his gaze.

“Enjoyed that, didn’t you, darling?” Rhys grins, leaning against the wall and crossing his arms over his chest. Your eyes are wide, but you can’t remove them from Cassian’s wolfish grin as he prowls towards you, backing you into the headboard. “But look what Cassian’s got for you.”

“First, you’ll cum on my toy, then on Az’s fingers, and then on Rhys’ tongue,” Cassian presses his words into your mouth, rolling his hips against yours. It makes you cling to him desperately, and he smirks against your lips. You lick over his straight teeth, tasting his tease. He parts himself from you, sucking at the sensitive skin between your jaw and ear. His tone is low, filled with desire and gravel that scratches the right parts of you when he continues. “And then, when you’re crying and begging, maybe we’ll give you our cocks. If you think you can handle it.”

Your body wracks with a shiver so violent Cassian’s façade falters. If it weren’t for your reassuring hand clawing across his bare shoulders, he would’ve asked you if you were alright. 

So the charade continues. You want to fight back, want to push them to the edge like they are you, because if they’re going to insist on fucking you for the good of their game, no matter how badly you want it, you’re going to make them work for it. You don’t hand out this kind of luck without some effort.

“Maybe I won’t give you my cunt at all,” you pant, chest rising and falling against Cassian’s. It feels like he’s crushing you, body pressed firmly to your own. You can hear Rhysand digging around in your drawer, looking for the pastel colored vibrator you have stuffed away. Azriel watches you with a heated gaze that sharpens at your words, pinning you to the bed just as effortless as Cassian is. “Maybe the sex after a loss is better than after a win.”

 Azriel all but growls, taking the chance to climb up on the bed with you and Cassian. You remove one of the hands you have buried in Cassian’s thick locks, reaching out to touch Azriel. You want them all, love when all of their attention is on you like this. Your thighs try to clench but Cassian’s hips pin them wide and he gently rocks into you, nipping at the skin around your bra strap before taking it between his teeth and pulling it from your shoulder. 

You rest your palm against Azriel’s cheek when he’s near enough, and though his serious gaze doesn’t soften, he leans into your touch, pressing kisses to your palm. “Baby, I think we both know that isn’t true.”

Gods, does he make you melt. They all do, stripping down and baring themselves to you. Each one of them is tall, tan, and muscular. They are Gods kneeling before you, worshiping you in every way.

You want that to start now.

As if reading your mind, Rhys places the pastel wand into Cassian’s awaiting grip. His grin turns into something feral as he rips your panties from your legs, fingers curling between you and the mattress to unhook your bra. 

Azriel takes over, hands palming at your breasts as he moves the clothing. Cassian clicks the vibrator on and your legs want to close in response. You’re so fucking wet you know that you’re glistening for them, and with the speed at which Cassian sets your little toy, you won’t last very long, especially when the other two crowd around you and all three men stare down at you like you’re something worth devouring.

“Is it true?” Cass asks, but he doesn’t wait for your answer, pressing the buzzing toy to your already throbbing clit when you begin to speak. Your words sizzle into a moan, your body arching into the vibrations, hips wriggling as you chase the feeling it’s stirring in your gut. Az and Rhys hold you down, and they all watch in pleasure as Cassian plays with you. “You think losing sex is better?”

Normally, he’s all fun and games, built for edging you until you take control and sit yourself on his cock, but today, with the taunts in the air and the looming game at the back of their minds, he’s more eager to draw as many orgasms from you as he can. He needs to stuff you so full of his cum, right down until the minute he dares step foot on the ice for the championship game. He needs to see you in the crowd, hardly able to sit because your cunt is that sore, cheering them on with their cum still leaking out of you.

“N—No,” you manage to get out, but you hardly know what you’re babbling about. You cling to Rhys and Az, who mouth at your breasts as you writhe, pinning your arms to the bed. Your back arches as Cass finds that spot, the vibrator stimulating your clit with such an intensity, heat rushes to your core like a dam breaking. “Cass, ah—please baby, yeah, yeah, right there!” 

“Right here?” He asks, and dread fills your body. You know that voice, and you chase the orgasm as fast as you can before he— “Or down here?” You cry out in frustration as he moves the wand lower, a buzz dulling as he slicks it against your opening. 

“Az,” you whine, because you need more than just the toy. They’ve fucked you relentless, ruined everything for you, and now it’s no longer enough, not even when they’re away from you. “Need your fingers. Please!” You cry out when Cassian returns the vibrator to your clit, holding you still as you writhe.

He doesn’t hesitate, cock straining away from his body. He’d been ready for you since he awoke this morning, but practice had taken precedence before he could find his way to your apartment to fuck the bones from your body. He’s the most superstitious of the three, and not even your teasing he takes lightly. 

But he’s conditioned to need you, more than he needs his shooting hand before game days. He doesn’t know how or when this started, but he’s not complaining. He loves it, in fact, thinking about you all wet like this when he’s in the thick of the game, when he’s thinking about starting a fight or stuck in the penalty box. He’s also the most worried about it all, taking many nights pulling you aside to talk about the arrangement. To make sure you feel loved instead of used. To show you how much you mean to him. 

So, he doesn’t play around when he puts those skilled hands to work, plunging one into your cunt, then two because the first slides in easily. You cry out when he curls them, the shadow of a smile curving his lips in the most beautiful way.

“Hey,” Cassian pouts, “It doesn’t count as three if you and I are both doing it.” 

Azriel doesn’t look away from you, watching as you come undone from the incessant buzzing and him stroking the bundle of nerves inside of you. He wants you to break his skin with your nails, burst his eardrums with your screams, drown him in your cum. “Then make it two.” 

Cassian’s hazel eyes glint and he’s turning the setting higher. 

“Rhys, down on the bed,” Azriel demands after your second, earth-shattering orgasm. The captain of the hockey team does just that. You shiver at Azriel’s words. He’s usually quiet, but when he takes over in the bedroom not one of you strays from his commands, his low voice making those words even sexier. He kisses you softly, helping mauver your body so you’re straddling Rhysand’s face. “Cass, head of the bed, legs open.” He turns back to you, hazel gaze pinning you in place as Rhysnad’s rough hands begging trailing patterns across your thighs. Your cunt nearly drools on him, and your muscles tremble with the effort to keep yourself from sinking down onto that tongue of his. “Baby, I want to see you suck Cassian off while you ride Rhys’ face. You can do that for me, can’t you, pretty girl?”

You keen, falling into his touch around your throat. You need to kiss him, need to sink yourself down and feel the ridges of Rhys’ tongue, his nose digging into your clit. You need to taste the precum beading at Cassian’s ruddy tip, taunting you. You need to feel Azriel’s mouth on yours first, though.

He allows you one kiss. It’s slow and sensual on his side, desperate on your part. He doesn’t allow you to turn up the heat, keeping you pinned in place as Rhys guides your hips down. You squeak against Azriel’s lips at the first touch of Rhysand’s tongue, already grinding your hips against his eager mouth. 

Azriel’s fingers slide from your throat, gathering the hair at the base of your skull. Slowly, he guides you down to Cassian’s cock. It’s wet, leaking against his tight abs as he pins his hands behind his head, watching you with fire in his eyes. 

You steady yourself with hands on his thick thighs. Your body is already convulsing with pleasure, three orgasms and a handful more to go is what you’d been promised, but as Rhysand grazes his teeth across your sensitive clit, you cry out, hot breath fanning across Cassian’s cock. It twitches as he flexes. 

“You’re okay, baby,” Azriel coos, fisting Cassian’s cock, helping you steady yourself so you can take it into your mouth. Rhys’ pace is unhurried, but it still makes pleasure blind your gaze, eyes prickling with sensitivity. “C’mon, be a good girl and take his cock.”

You feel nearly boneless already, hardly able to hold yourself up as Azriel escorts Cassian’s throbbing cock into your mouth. You lick his slit and he hisses, head banging against the headboard as you suckle at his tip. His musk bursts across your tongue, heady and strong and utterly Cassian. You can’t help but moan, licking around the head, dragging down the silken skin as Azriel presses you onto it. All the way until he’s hitting the back of your throat.

“Relax, baby,” Azriel whispers, planting soothing kisses to your shoulders. It’s almost overwhelming how all three of them can be so gentle right now, when they’re finally getting what they need. Your need for them is overwhelming. You can see it now how well they work as a team, impeccable both on and off the ice. 

You love it. 

Your jaw falls slack at his soft words, and he’s pushing your head down, Cassian’s cock stretching your throat. Both men groan at the sight, and Cassian’s fingers find your cheek, caressing your face.

“That’s it, sweetheart, just like that,” Cassian praises, and you whimper in pleasure. Rhysand swirls his tongue and nips at your clit and you’re seeing stars, body wracking hot with the onslaught of an orgasm.

Cassian bucks and you choke, but you love it. They make you feel so full, even though your cunt aches with the need. You know you’ll get it soon enough. 

Azriel leaves you in Cassian’s care while he settles himself behind you. You can no longer see him, but he dips down, spreading your cheeks to lap at your hole. You startle and moan languidly at the sensation, melting into the three of them further.

You can hear him spit, and then his finger is breaching your ass. 

“Relax,” he murmurs again, curling his body around your own. The heat of his chest to your back is comforting, and you try your best to uncurl your muscles. “That’s it, just like that baby. Gooood girl.” His finger drags against your walls and you shiver, rocking back against the sting until he’s three fingers in and you’re moaning wanton around Cassian’s cock. 

You cry when Azriel removes his fingers, but he’s pressing up to his knees and slicking his cock between your sopping wet cunt and Rhysand’s tongue. Oh, that feels fucking incredible, your sensitive clit burns at the heat of his cock, cunt quivering from the three orgasms already.

“I don’t know if I can,” you whimper sliding off of Cassian’s cock with a cry. Tears stream down your face and Cassian’s brushing them away softly, swiping his thumb across your lips to clear the string of saliva away. Azriel’s teasing your entrance, holding your hips steady as Rhysand shuffles up the bed, his own leaking cock brushing against your cunt. You’d collapse on top of him if it weren’t for Azriel holding you up.

Rhys takes your face in hand, kissing you firmly, proudly, sharing the taste of you with him. He’s showing you how wet you are for them, how good you’re being, but you still make a noise when the tip of his cock brushes against your throbbing clit. “You can do it, baby,” he reassures, tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear, “Want to fill our darling girl with our cum. You want that, too, don’t you?” 

Fuck, you do. You really, truly do. You want to taste it, feel it, bathe in it until there’s no question in their minds that you aren’t theirs. Some day, this lucky streak might end, but until then, you want to be stuffed with them, feel their heat inside of you, filling every part of you to the brim. You want to swim in them, and them in you. You need it like ice needs the cold, like the Velaris Bats need a championship. 

“Yes,” you find yourself clawing at his muscles, drawing Cassian nearer by his cock as Azriel’s head slips into your ass. You groan, body sucking him in as you stare into the depths of Rhysand’s violet eyes.

The three of them consume you, and you, them. Once Azriel works himself in with a grunt, hips settled against yours, Rhys is nudging his cock into your dripping cunt. Your breathing goes a little ragged, but his lips are on your neck and you use that and Cassian’s cock as a distraction from the stretch.

They give you as long as you need to adjust, hands all over your body you can hardly focus on one thing. Why do that when there are so many delicious things happening at once? Your hand wrapped around Cassian’s girth, jerking him up and down while you suck and spit on the head of his cock. He groans in approval. You begin rocking back on both Rhysand and Azriel, letting them know with your loud noises that you’re more than ready for their cocks. Rhys’ mouth is attached to your breasts while Azriel’s sticks his fingers around your torso to flick at your clit.

Rhys and Azriel go from moving in synch to fucking into you, opposite in pace. Rhys pulls out while Azriel pushes in, one of them always filling you. It’s great, both of their cocks hot and heavy inside of your tight, wet holes. You shiver when their heads bump into each other through your walls, moaning around Cassian’s cock.

“Fuck, baby,” Azriel says, brushing the hair back from your shoulder. His movements are quickening, and heat rushes through you once again, your body bucking between theirs, following that feeling off of the edge. “Just like that.”

They fuck you through it, until you can hear the wet slaps of their hips against yours again, until your blackened vision clears, your movements lazy and slow as you grip Cassian’s cock like it’s the only thing holding you to this existence. 

“I’m almost there,” Rhys hisses, and he and Azriel are moving in time again, both of them pressing into you so deeply you can’t even breathe. They’re filling you up, hitting all of the right spots, and you can’t help the stream of tears and cries that fall from your lips. You might cum again, you think, as Cassian slides down to comfort you with his soft lips against your skin. 

“I’m cumming baby, f-fuck, yeah, I’m cumming pretty girl,” Azriel groans, pistoning his hips faster. The grip he has on your cheeks is biting, spreading them wide for his viewing pleasure as his strokes turn jerky. “Godsdamn, baby, I’m a lucky man.”

You body clenches and Rhysand chokes, following his friend. He holds you tightly, eyes squeezed shut in bliss as he fucks him cum deep into your womb. “Holy fuck, darling. Fucking made for us,” he grunts. The erratic pressing of their cocks filling your holes has you cumming again, milking you of another orgasm. 

“Fuuuuck,” Cassian mutters in awe as you blink through tears to look up at him. His hand caresses your jaw and he looks utterly destroyed by you and he hasn’t even gotten his chance yet. “Four orgasms? What a good girl, giving us all that.” 

You whimper, nuzzling into his touch as Azriel pulls slowly out of your ass. You cry out, grip going firm where you clutch to Rhysand’s shoulders, missing the loss of him already. But Az is kissing up your spine, scooping the cum already leaking from your hole only to stuff it back inside of you, swirling his fingers through the thick, white cum. 

“One more baby,” Rhysand coos, pressing kisses to your wet cheeks. You don’t think you can move even, you can hardly even keep your eyes open right now or your breathing controlled, allowing the three of them to manhandle you onto Cassian’s broad chest. 

You collapse against him, cum leaking from both your cunt and your ass, getting his hips and thighs all messy with it. But he loves it, loves holding you to his chest like this, looking down at you as you snuggle into him like you could fall asleep in bliss in a matter of breaths.

“Let me give you my cum,” he whispers into your hair and your body trembles with his words. You’re utterly spent, but your body needs his cum mixing with the others just as badly as they need the win. 

You nod against his chest, stroking a lazy hand down his torso. “Be gentle with me.”

He is. Cassian holds you close, rocking his hips in a steady, soft motion while you cling to him. He seems to be in no rush, but your cunt aches with every drag of his large cock, and you start writhing against him, a little uncomfortable but not yet willing to force him to stop. 

The others’ cum helps slick the way, and Cassian’s soothing words kissed to your forehead keep you somewhat calm. He lets you dig your fingers into his skin as hard as you need to, especially when his grip spans across your hips, pinning you to him so he can fuck into you as he chases his orgasm.

“Doing so well for me, baby. Gonna fill you up and get you all cleaned up with the others,” he murmurs, and it’s then you notice he’s silently asked Rhys and Az to leave. The shower is going in the attached bathroom. You can hear the cap of the body wash opening. “We’re going to take such good care of you, baby, for all those orgasms you gave us.” 

You sigh in response, much too tired to muster words. You tilt Cassian’s head down for a soft kiss instead, and then he’s panting against your mouth and fucking into you as he cums, swallowing your tender whimpers and moans.

“There we go, baby,” he coos, keeping his cock shoved in that pretty cunt because he knows you like that. He strokes your hair, letting you loll with the rhythm of his chest. “Helping us win the championship. Our little lucky charm.”

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•

Kinktober Taglist:@bunnymallowo@jeannineee@icey–stars@hannzoaks@harrystylesfan2686@azriels-shadowsinger @alysena2 @dream-alittlebiggerdarling @impossibelle @glitterypirateduck @reading-moongirl

[sommerregenjuniluft]

@jegulus-microfic june 5th — more — 1108words — cw: reg has some pretty explicit dirty fantasies for a moment or two for @honeybcj and all the other james dad bod enjoyers out there<3

Regulus is sitting in his lifeguard chair, eyes trained on the long pool where people are swimming their laps. Nevermind he isn’t even on shift. Over the last few weeks Regulus has signed himself up for more shifts than ever, much to the surprise of their staff manager. Pandora too. They’ve stocked up on sunscreen and went shopping for new cute swimwear and then devoted their last college summer to spending every minute in the presence of piss covered ground, soggy fries and chlorine smelling air.

All for the sole purpose of making eyes at a beautiful couple and their toddler half the day. Or, not-couple, as Pandora has found out in passing, much to both their delight. The parents of little Harry are divorced, or not together anymore, but they still seem to get along well enough, regularly meeting up to come here and spend their days in the water. Lily, a gorgeous redhead with bright eyes and a sweet smile that occasionally makes Pandora squirm in her place and redden in the cheeks more fiercely than any sunburn. 

And then there’s James. Tall, dark haired, in his mid to end twenties, always grinning, tanned, insanely sexy and funny James. 

The sun is already low now and Lily and Harry have already gone home. On the days James doesn’t take the toddler home with him, he often stays a little longer to get some swimming in. Or just to take a nap on one of the chairs, molten popsicle dripping down and into the hairs on his stomach. His belly rising and falling in regular intervals, full lips parted, dark mob of hair a downright mess and the legs of his bathing shorts hiked so far up it should be forbidden.

The white fabric of it is drenched when James heaves himself out of the pool and shakes out his sopping hair.

Regulus’ eyes follow greedily as the older man picks up his towel and dries himself off. James rummages for his water bottle and then tips his head back and gulps. His throat is bobbing and he’s so overly enthusiastic with it that something dribbles out at the sides and along his neck. Regulus feels himself stir in his own swim shorts and he absently gnaws on his lower lip.

He has already perfectly well resigned himself to the fact that he will be an admirer from afar because how do you even walk up to a young dad and tell him you’d very much like to find out just how much of a daddy he is without overstepping multiple boundaries.

That is before Regulus gets pulled from his perverse thoughts of getting fucked deep into the mattress and stubble burn on his jaw and licking over a nipple circled by chest hair when suddenly said object of his fantasies is walking up to him, eyes squinting against the sun.

He comes to a stop in front of Regulus’ high stool and wraps his hand around the ladder railing next to Regulus’ leg, his shoulder muscle bunching deliciously. 

Regulus’ brain is currently projecting an Error404.

“Hi, sorry for disturbing you,” James says with a warm smile. To Regulus. The hot dad is talking to Regulus. “You can totally say No I was just thinking I should reapply,” he waves the bottle of sunscreen in his big hand, “and I need someone to get my back.”

Regulus just gawks, unable to form a coherent thought. There’s a dark mole right over James’ thick left eyebrow and Regulus wants to kiss it. His nose is a little crooked and his stubble looks so obscene from up close Regulus can’t help but imagine what it would feel like against the inside of his thigh, the crease of his ass.

James’ eyebrows raise and he frowns mildly, “You don’t have to, of course. I can ask someone else, it’s no iss—”

“No,” Regulus blurts, probably too quickly. He licks his lips. “I’ll do it,” he offers, his voice cracking embarrassingly, before clambering down his chair. Heat crawls up into Regulus’ cheeks and down his collarbones and he clears his throat.

A gust of realization flits over James’ face and then he grins, shamelessly. Regulus swallows. “Oh, so you’re the cute College kid Lily told me was ogling me.”

Regulus makes a panicked noise in the back of his throat, sputtering slightly.

“You really are pretty,” James murmurs, ducking closer. “I wear glasses usually, ’m sorta blind without them, really. It’s lovely getting to see you up close finally.”

“Oh,” Regulus nods, dumbly.

“What’s your name, love?”

“Regulus.”

James hums, repeating his name, slowly letting it roll over his tongue and Regulus shivers.

“I’m James by the way.”

Regulus nods again but he knew that already.

“So,” James cocks his head, “I was promised a slathering of sunscreen?”

And Regulus does just that. He lets James squirt the cool, milky white fluid on his hands and then begins rubbing it into tan skin. James is warm and sturdy under his fingers and when Regulus gets to his neck, adorned by a thin, golden chain, James lets his head loll to the side with a groan. Regulus has to work hard not to let his cock react to it.

When James turns around he has his lower lip trapped between his teeth and is watching Regulus with lidded eyes. There’s still some residue on Regulus’ palms and when James sees that, he takes his wrists slowly and brings his hands down over his bicep as well. 

Regulus is pretty sure he just sighed a little too loudly but he’s too transfixed to care. 

James hums once Regulus is done. “Thank you,” he says, tucking one of Regulus’ curls back. “I’ll let you get back to your shift then,” James mumbles, voice low and playful, “Wouldn’t want to distract you from saving lifes.”

“I’m not on shift,” Regulus replies, stupidly, basically exposing himself. He needs to get a grip.

A happy smile spreads over James’ face, “Well, then why don’t you come join me so I can keep looking at you without my glasses from up close?”

Regulus hesitates for a moment, dumbfounded by the amount of active flirting and compliments.

“I’ll share my fruit and you can tell me all about your courses and that blonde friend of yours that seems to have a thing for Harry’s mum,” James winks.

A small laugh tumbles out of Regulus, “Yeah, she’s ridiculously down bad for Lily.” 

“Oh, people who live in glass houses, love…” James smirks, starting for his spot next to the pool.

Regulus blushes a deep pink as he follows behind him.

[juleswritesstuff]

Am I the only one who thinks most of the Marauders and the Slytherin Skittles would have the biggest praise kink in history ?

warnings: smut

Just a little thought I had today. Let me know if you want a part two with the reader and the boys' roles reversed, I'll be more than happy to comply 😉

Enjoy💗

James would have one because of his constant need to be perfect, to be what he thinks the others need him to be: the perfect son, the perfect friend, the perfect student. But he always has doubts ‘am I enough ?’, ‘am I doing enough ?', ‘will they like me ’, ‘what if they don’t ? what if they hate me ?’ He needs to be reassured that he is. He is enough, he is more than enough. 

I feel like it would be more prominent while he is intimate with you. He is mostly afraid of not living up to the expectation he thinks you have of him. So you make sure he knows that he makes you literally touch the sky.

‘That was the best match i’ve ever watched ! Merlin, you were brilliant on that broom James’ after Gryffindor wins the last match of the year.

‘What do you mean ‘stupid’ ? They’re your glasses baby, they help you see. And you look really hot wearing them in my opinion’ after he overhears someone talking about another person and saying they look stupid with that specific pair of glasses.

‘Like that, baby. You’re doing so good’ while he is covering your neck with kisses and gentle bites.

‘Yes, yes, fuck, right there Jamie’ after a particularly deep and strong thrust leaves you breathless.

‘You look so good between my legs, love’ while he is eating you out messily and hungrily and so, so perfectly.

‘No one feels as good as you. No one could ever make me feel the way you do, James’ while he is still inside of you, catching his breath and looking at you with devotion.

‘Are you sure it was ok ?’

‘James, it was more than ok. My legs are shaking baby, that's a sign that it was pretty damn amazing’

‘Are you serious ?’

‘Apart from the very lame joke I am sure you’re thinking about, yes, I am. Actually, why don’t I show you how serious I really am ?’

‘What do you mean, baby?’

‘I mean that you’re gonna fuck me again and i’ll show you how much I always crave your lips, then a third time and i’ll make sure the entire castle hears how you can make me cry with just your tongue, then a fourth because that perfect dick of yours needs to be fucking worshipped, and, finally, a fifth to show you that you fuck me so good that not a single coherent thought processes in my head when you're taking me apart on your cock, Jamie’ 

Remus would have one because he has hated himself his whole life. He feels like a monster, like he doesn’t deserve all the love he is surrounded by, like all the good things people say about him are just lies. And he knows the truth, he knows he is nothing but an horrid creature and that he doesn’t deserve to be loved. Except that it isn’t the truth, and you tell him everyday.

With him I feel like it would be more out of the bedroom, and outside of sex, but not exclusively.

‘You’re really good at that spell Remus, mind showing me how it’s done ?’ after he gets a rather difficult charm right at the first try.

‘You look very hot today, Rem. Well, you look hot everyday actually’ which makes him blush from head to toes.

‘You’re the best, you know ? You really are’ after he explains a difficult concept that nobody else got, but him.

‘Holy hell, right there Remus. You feel way too good’ while he eases in and out of you with a steady rhythm, knocking the air out of your lungs.

‘You take such good care of me’ while he is going down on you, slowly, sensually and with a glint of hunger in his eyes, knowing exactly what to do to make you fall apart.

‘I love you, you know that right ?’

‘Yes, darling. You tell me everyday’ 

‘Well, that’s not enough. From now on, I'll tell you twice a day’

‘But why ?’

‘Because it’s true' and then you give him the sweetest kiss.

Sirius would have one because he has been told his whole life that he wasn’t enough. That he needed to be better, to do better, to be a better heir for the Noble House of Black, to be a better son, to be a better brother. He was told that he was worthless, that his parents had no use in having a son like him. He was a disappointment, a shame to the family. For them he didn’t exist anymore.

But for you he was the most perfect person to ever walk on earth. Your brightest star.

He would love it both inside and outside the bedroom. I feel like he would also ask you to tell him something that makes him feel good, especially when he is having a bad day. He has no problem being praised in public, but he becomes especially vulnerable when you’re intimate because he can finally let go.

‘Tell me what did I do to have the best boyfriend ever ?’ After he brings you flowers one day because he told you they reminded them of you.

‘It’s ok Sirius, you’ll get it eventually. You’re one of the best students, you just need a bit more time which is totally fine’ after the tenth time he tries to get one of the most difficult spells right, only for it to go wrong.

‘You’re worth it Sirius. You’re worth every single good thing that happens to you, never doubt that’ after he breaks down reading one of his mothers older letters, full of foul words directed at him.

‘You’re such a good boy, aren’t you ?’ after he listens to you so well, kissing every inch of your body.

‘Fuck, you should see yourself baby. You look so good, so perfect for me’ while you’re on his lap, riding him slowly to savor that sultry fucked out expression on his face that makes you go feral.

‘You’re so sweet, Sirius, do you know that ? So fucking sweet’ after you bob your head on his length, swirling your tongue around his head to suck gently as his taste coats your mouth.

‘Was I good ?’

‘You’re always good, Sirius. More than’

‘Are you sure ?’

‘Do you want me to describe in detail how good you are at splitting me open in every position known to man ? Because I can do that if you want. Might take three whole days though, a week if you want me to talk about that sinful tongue of yours, too’

‘I think we have enough time’ and then you both start laughing.

Regulus would have one because he’s been second his whole life. Second for his brother, second for his parents before Sirius left , sometimes he feels second even for his friends. He thinks no one cares deeply about him, he’s just there as a rebound. He’s never been anyone’s first choice, and he thinks he never will be.

You make sure he knows that not only he would be your first choice in every lifetime, but that he would also be the only choice for you, no one else would or could ever compare. He is the center of your universe after all.

I feel like he would blush like crazy and pretend he is annoyed by your words when you’re in public and you praise him even for the simplest thing, but his eyes would also warm up a little, just for a second, before going back to his blank and rather stoic expression. He would be a mess in the bedroom though, when he can finally let go and he allows himself to feel good about the sweet words that leave your lips.

‘You have the prettiest eyes I have ever seen’ after he catches you staring at him for a moment too long.

‘Your poems are literally art, Regulus. I can’t believe you can write like this, you know this is pure talent, right ?’ after he shows you his poems for the first time and you nearly cry because more than half of them are dedicated to you.

‘You were so good up there, Reggie. And the way you caught the Snitch ? Fucking incredible. You are incredible’ after Slytherin wins one of the biggest matches of the season thanks to Regulus catching the Snitch one minute from the end.

‘You feel so good, love. Stretching me out so well’ after his cock slides inside of you perfectly, filling you up so nicely.

‘Eyes on me, Regulus. They’re so gorgeous, I want them focused me while I make you cum, ok ? Be good and keep them open’ as you stroke his length up and down, feeling the velvety soft skin on your palm as you give his head a gentle suck, tasting him on your tongue.

‘You’re so pretty when you’re all fucked out, Reggie. You feel so good taking me like this’ while you’re riding him and he looks at you with hazy eyes, lust and pure bliss fogging his brain’

‘I’m yours Regulus. I’m undoubtedly, irrevocably and utterly yours’

‘Promise me’

‘I promise, I’m not going anywhere. I’m afraid you’re stuck with me forever, actually’

‘Mmh, it’s gonna be hard, but I’ll survive I guess’ while you’re still joined, one body and one soul as you kiss him slowly and sweetly, his tone sarcastic but betrayed by the smile that's progressively growing on his lips.

Barty would have one because his father never gave him his attention. He was never enough for him, never a good son, never a good student, never good. He was constantly ignored, and the few times his father acknowledged him was to tell him that he was a lost cause, a disgrace, a shame. He was just a stupid boy, too reckless, too careless, too unhinged, too much, and, at the same time, never enough. But it wasn’t like that. He was a bit impulsive, and sometimes he went a little bonkers, but he was a good person, and there were people who cared about him and his well being. You always made sure he knew that. He was your priority.

I have a feeling that he would be completely unashamed of being praised in public exactly like he is praised in the bedroom. Probably not in front of the whole school, but he wouldn't really care if people eavesdropped, his crooked grin widening when he notices their horrified faces. It is  their fault, they could mind their own damn business.

‘Yes, Barty, you’ve been a good boy’ after he asks you if he has been good after getting an O in Potions.

‘Baby, we’re in public, I can’t just scream about how good you fuck me. There are people eating, for Merlin’s sake’ after he sees a guy talking to you before sitting at the table in the Great Hall. He asks you if you could tell him that he is the only one who could make you come with just his skilled fingers.

‘Don’t think like that ever again, Barty. You are not a lost cause, you aren't. You deserve good things, you deserve the best things, sweetie. You deserve to be loved, and I do. I love you so much Barty, don’t ever think you are not important to me because you are. You mean the world to me’ after he receives a letter from his father asking how a cretin like him was able to find someone who could love him. If he hadn’t begged you to stop after calming down a little you would’ve been in Azkaban with a murder charge by now.

‘Fuck, I love when you do that. Feels amazing, baby’ after he trails a path of kisses down your chest only to focus on the tender flesh of your nipple as he sucks gently, and grazes it with his teeth, teasing you.

‘Harder, baby. I know you like it like this’ while his thrusts become more erratic, stronger and deeper and you can hardly think.

‘You’re cock is perfect, Barty. Fills my mouth so nicely’ while you’re sucking him off, his tip hits your throat and you swallow as the loudest moan leaves his mouth.

‘I told Mulciber that no one can make you scream as loud as I do’

‘You did what ?! Barty !’

‘What ? Is it not true ?’

‘I- of course it’s true, but why did you have to tell him ?’

‘He was being rather cocky about the fact that he could make you scream like, and I quote ‘a bitch’. Then he started using other very disrespectful words to describe you baby, and at that point I had to punch him right in the face, because no one has to even dare to talk about you like that. He is actually lucky my Sectumsempra is not perfect yet, or he would’ve ended way worse. And then I added that little detail. I probably shouldn’t have done it, but I was furious. Do you want me to obliviate him ? I can do that if you want’

‘It’s fine, he needs some salt rubbed on his wounds’

‘Are you sure ?’

‘Yes, baby. And it’s nothing new, I'm sure the entire dorm hears me when you’re fucking me, I can't help it. Now come on my knight in bloody knuckles, let’s go to Madame Pomfrey to get those bruises checked’ you kiss him lightly before heading to the infirmary.

[wonysugar]

incredibly out of character of me to write something like this about yujin and quite frankly idk what came over me… BUT WALK WITH ME!

gp yujin thoughts!

cw : kinda breeding kink, heavyy puppy kink, subtle praise kink, this is probably kinda nasty in terms of detailing and description sorry y’all it’s like 2am HELPP i’m fighting demons right now

you look at these pictures and think “omg sweet girl.. she does no wrong.” and you’d be… so right actually she’d be the sweetest girlfriend ever i mean look at her SHE TAKES YOU OUT ON DATES EVERY WEEKEND AND BUYS YOU FLOWERS BEFORE PICKING YOU UP anyways

one random saturday, you ask her if you guys could simply chill at home instead of going out since you caught a cold prior to the hang out, to which she will, of course, happily oblige! she’s fine being anywhere as long as it’s with you aheheheh she’s so cute she’d start actually giggling at the mere thought of having to take care of a sick yn, making sure you’re okay and watching over you:(( sweet bby

one thing she wasn’t expecting, however, was to witness you getting surprisingly and strangely aroused by being pampered this much and having to take care of you in another way. or, actually.. more like having the roles switch and being taken care of instead! :]

she doesn’t know what to do when you’re kissing all over her and whining about how much you need to give her a reward for being so good to you. on one hand, she wants to be spoiled too and have you all to herself. on the other, she wants to tuck you back to sleep because you’re ill and deserve some good rest!! if things went according to plan, she wouldn’t even have thought twice about it and would’ve just given you tea to drink and force you to take a well-deserved nap..

but let’s just say that the dick in between her legs, very familiar traitor to yujin, had other plans.

honestly, with your soft hand palming her dick through the fabric of her jeans that was accompanied by the sweet things you whispered in her ear, it made it impossible for her to not want more.

so when you’re finally bouncing on her twitching cock cowgirl style whilst she lays back on the couch? oh well YESS~~

and one thing about yujin? oh she’s a sensory girlie i fear… poor puppy can’t enjoy having sex if she can’t hear and see every little thing that’s happening. from the soft moans and ‘good puppy’s escaping your lips and the way you’re bouncing up and down in front of her all the way down to the noise your skin makes when it’s slapping against hers due to her rough pounding and seeing you sneak a hand under your top to access your own chest, playing with your own nipples and getting off on her adorable vulnerability,,, or maybe she’s even paying close attention to the wet sound your pussy makes when it’s rubbing against the shaft of her hard cock, she’s watching it pump in and out of you and stretch you out:(( sometimes maybe even watch and hear it slip out on accident, listening to the ‘plop’ sound it makes on your stomach when it slaps it.. YES it’s frustrating and YES it’s also incredibly hot to her LISTEN—

it’s all sososo lewd to her,,, it makes her feel so filthy ouh it drives her crazy me thinks

also the consent check is THERE! she knows you’re sick, she needs to constantly make sure you’re feeling alright enough to continue and always reminding you that you can always stop whenever you feel overwhelmed she’s so soft i’m.

omg random thoughts about yujin nodding eagerly when you talk dirty to her,, “does it feel good, baby?” and she can only whimper and keenly nod as a response because she can’t speak coherent and proper sentences when you’re making her feel this good foekfnem SHE’S SENSITIVE OKAY

also i am a firm believer of her being a drooler i don’t CARE! she’s digging her nails into your naked thighs whenever she’s close to climax, looking up at you with glossy eyes, upturned eyebrows and a cute pout:((((( her mouth often agape when she does cum, it’s very common for her to drool all over her chin as she rides out her orgasm and shoots her thick load into your womb, getting too into it to even remember that she needs to PULL OUT WHEN CUMMING? listen SHE’S JUST A STUPID PUPPY LET HER LIVEE

and when it comes to the aftercare? oh it’s unmatched; you’re passed out, naked, on the couch next to her and she runs her hand through your hair, scratching it and giving you a scalp message cause she knows your head probably hurts from orgasming while having a cold… GUYS— [EXPLOSIONS]

[freedomfireflies]

any chance we can get asher back for mine!harry blurb? i miss my pookie :(

Summary: The one where you're not feeling so hot and Harry and Asher just want to help.

Word Count: 1.1k

Content Warning: 18+, very brief smut, very brief daddy kink, lots of fluff, not suitable for Ramadan!

“That’s it…good. Take it…fucking take me, mama.”

With every thrust and drive of Harry's hips, you can’t help but whimper. Nails scratching down his broad back while his nose dances along your cheek. You feel whole. Connected. In tune to his pleasure as you tighten your legs around his hips and kiss him.

“So fucking wet, sugar,” he exhales. His thumb finds your clit and he rubs in fast, determined circles. “S’it feel good? My baby’s cunny just needed some attention, hm? Needed me to fill her up?”

You nod—about the only coherent response you can offer—and melt into the feel of his mouth moving to your chest. It feels good. This is what you needed. You’ve missed him. And you needed someone to scratch this itch and make things right again.

And then, a throat clears.

Not yours. Not Harry’s.

Asher’s.

He’s standing in the doorway to the bedroom, watching. His kind eyes are now suspicious and deviant. And he’s not looking at Harry. He’s looking at you.

And you know why.

Harry doesn’t mind the audience. He continues, strong hands cemented to your hips as he tugs you up in order to get a better angle. “You all right, Ash?” he calls.

Asher raises his chin. “Tell him,” he says to you. Resolute. Unwavering in a way that suggests he won't be letting this go.

You hesitate, stomach dropping as the threat of punishment hangs heavy in the air. 

Harry smirks. “Tell me what?” 

You shake your head. “Nothing,” you whisper before shooting a pointed look toward the door. “Nothing.”

“Sweetheart,” Asher warns, crossing his arms before leaning against the frame. “It’ll be worse if I have to tell him.”

Now Harry seems to understand and begins to slow his thrusts, offering you a curious expression meant to calm you. “What’s wrong, mama?”

You chew on your lip. You don’t want to tell him. You want this and you attempt to clench around his cock in order to get him to continue.

He smiles.

“She had a fever this morning,” Asher finally says and you bite back a groan. “She’s been dizzy all day and nearly fainted earlier. I told her to stay in bed and rest. Not do anything too strenuous. But I have a feeling she didn’t mention that to you.”

Harry’s grin instantly fades into disappointment and you know, undoubtedly, that you’re in rather big trouble now. 

The one thing they prioritize more than anything is your health and safety.

“Sugar,” Harry starts, and you feel your heart skip, “are you not feeling well?”

You squirm beneath him. “I’m…I’m fine. I’m okay to do this—”

“Were you sick this morning?”

“…I was just…I mean, maybe a little, but—”

“Did you know you were going against Asher’s request when you begged me to fuck you?” he says firmly, and your skin feels like it’s on fire. You hate upsetting him. “Were you purposefully disobeying him?”

Shit, shit, shit. “I…I wasn’t trying to, I just…I missed you.”

And it’s the truth. You have missed him. You weren’t trying to be defiant, but you love Harry and you wanted to feel him. And you figured an orgasm could be just what the doctor ordered. 

His features soften now as he dips down to kiss your nose. “I know, mama. I’ve missed you, too. But you know better than to disobey, don’t you?”

Regretfully, you nod.

“Then, I’m gonna ask you a question and I expect the truth. Is that understood?”

Another nod.

“Are you unwell right now? Do you feel tired or feverish or even the slightest bit uncomfortable?”

You could lie. You could tell him that you’ve been fucked back to health. That you rested and now you’re replenished.

But he’d know. And you’d know. And Asher would know.

So, you thread your fingers through his curls and whisper, “I’m…a little tired. And sore."

His expression falls. He’s gutted to know you're in pain but proud of you for finally admitting it. “Good girl,” he says before he kisses your cheek and begins to pull out. “All right then. Are you gonna let us take care of you now? The right way?”

Almost begrudgingly, you nod once again and melt into the mattress as he and Asher discuss the best way to help.

They run you a bath and help carry you to the tub. Harry joins you in the warm water and pulls you between his legs so he can sweep a washcloth up and down your clammy skin. Helping you feel clean and calm.

And when you're through, Asher is there with a big, fluffy towel to wrap you up in. Drying you off gently before bringing you back to bed and kissing your temple sweetly while tucking you beneath the covers.

“Thank you,” you say faintly as he runs his thumb over your cheek. “Even though you’re a snitch.”

He laughs. “Mhm. And I’d do it again.”

With that, he leaves you and Harry alone for the evening, something Harry is more than all right with.

He crawls into bed beside you, quickly pulling you to his chest before taking your temperature and offering you medicine and water. 

“I’m sorry you didn’t get to finish,” you whisper as he’s turning out the light.

However, even in the dark, you can anticipate his frown. “Sugar…finishing is not the goal for me. You know that. I like to finish with you, but I don’t fuck you for that. I fuck you because I love you. I want to be close to you. I want to feel you and make you finish.”

You run your fingers down his chest and sigh. “I know, I just…I like when you do. I like that I can do that for you.”

You feel his lips brush across your forehead before he’s wrapping you between his arms. “I know, mama. I’ll make you a deal. Once you’re well again, I’ll fuck you as many times as you want. Make you cum over and over and over again. Until you’re all sensitive and overstimulated.”

You grin. “Yeah?”

“Yeah. And you’ll take it, won’t you?”

“Yes, daddy.”

“Mhm. That’s what I thought.” He chuckles before there’s a long, silent lull. “I love you. You know that?”

Your heart just about explodes out of your chest. “I love you, too.”

“Good.” Another kiss. Soft. Gentle. “Horny little thing. Even got Asher to tell on you.”

“I know,” you laugh. “I was kind of surprised. But to be fair, I didn’t really disobey him. I was on bed rest. We were doing missionary, and you were doing all the work. All I had to do was lay there.”

Harry laughs and the sound is beautiful. “And you’re sneaky, too, hm?”

“Hey, an orgasm a day keeps the doctor away.”

“All right, that’s enough out of you. Go to sleep, yeah?” He pinches your hip. “We’ll discuss this when you’re better. But something tells me Asher won’t be so willing to let you off the hook.”

You smile.

“Good.”

Okay fine I missed Asher, too 😭 HE IS CUTE WHEN HE WANTS TO BE!!

~ Mine Masterlist

~ Main Masterlist

Taglist: @walkingintheheartbreaksatellite @keepdrivingkisses @swiftmendeshoran @tiredinwinter @straightontilmornin @justlemmeadoreyou @harrysdaydreams @tiaamberxx @peterparker1sgf @myfavfanficsever @littlenatilda @vamprry @fdl305 @tchalametishot @ssaama @indierockgirrl @likeapplejuicenpeach @lukesaprince @closureesny @lc-fics @0nlythrowharrybeaux @hannahdressedasabanana @dylanobandposts21 @butdaddyilovehim-hs @floral-recs @itjustkindahappenedreally @samanddeaninatrenchcoat @laelamarley @acesofspadess @stylesfever @caynonmoondreams  @virginvirgo @pagesfalling @creativelyeva @char112244 @snwells @armystay89 @oh-my-hecky-padalecki @blackbookwhore @nellylayhoohoo @22fallenangel22 @watercolorskyy @ilovedilfs32 @nicodoesntexist @lelenikki @happypoptart 

[st-eve-barnes]

Romeo is bleeding

(Felix Catton x fem Reader)

Summary: Felix feels heartbroken over Oliver and chooses you to distract him

Word count: +1800

Warning: 18+ for explicit language and content, oral sex (fem receiving), p in v sex. ANGST, comfort, but more ANGST.

Seriously, this is a pretty sad one. I tried to take some things from canon and I've basically killed myself with all the foreshadowing, I just couldn't stop.

This is my first time writing Felix so go easy on me and please let me know if you liked it!

***

All my fics are also on AO3

If you love my writing you can Buy me a KoFi or feed me with a lovely comment ;)

***

You had stumbled into the maze after one too many drinks that night when you found Felix. His tall frame leaned against the statue, lips wrapped around the bottle that was half empty by now, sipping more of whatever was in there to numb his feelings.

His head was down, shoulders slumped but even like this he was still taller than anyone else. And more beautiful. He looked like God’s most perfect fallen angel with those wings and your lips curled up into an involuntary smile at the sight of him. You made your way over, the liquor in your own veins giving you the confidence you usually lacked.

He smiled back when he noticed you,”You lost, little bird?”

“Are you?” you teased, earning you another smile from him. 

That ever present smile, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes tonight. You had noticed it earlier upon seeing him on the dance floor as well, he was trying very hard to keep up the facade but here, behind the dark enclosures of the maze, it all fell apart.

“I might very well be,” he answered with a heavy sigh, rubbing his bloodshot eyes.

You dared to step closer, enough to properly look at him but he didn’t reciprocate, his gaze avoiding yours, thoughts a million miles away it seemed.

“You alright?” you checked.

He took another long sip from the bottle before placing it on the statue behind him. ”Sure,” he then smiled, a little more convincing than before, but still a lie.”Right as rain,” he finally looked back at you, holding your gaze,”How are you, sweet Y/N?”

“I’m good,” you nodded, biting your lip before you spoke the next words,”I can leave…if you want to…you know…be alone to sulk over Oliver.”

He rolled his eyes but his lips quirked up into a grin,”Am I that obvious?”

“You both are,” you confessed with what you hoped was a warm, compassionate smile,”I’ll just go and leave you to your booze and…”

Before you could step back his hand wrapped around your wrist, gently, holding you in place. 

“No,” he spoke.

“No?” you teased, unable to stop yourself from smiling and leaning into his touch, willing him to pull you even closer. 

You always wanted to be closer to him.

“No,” he repeated in a whisper and then his lips were on yours in a soft, slow kiss and your heart nearly burst out of your chest. Your hands made their way into his neck, reciprocating his kiss, melting into him, bodies pressed up together, his tongue finding yours to deepen the kiss and steal your last coherent thought.

How you loved him, and probably always had. Your beautiful, sweet Felix. That gorgeous, friendly giant who befriended you when no one else would.

Maybe he really did have a thing for lost causes.

Felix sighed into the kiss, a satisfied smirk on his lips at all the desperate, little noises you made. His hands moved down to your waist and he spun you both around, placing your back against the statue, his lips now on your neck, sloppy wet kisses making their way down to your bare shoulders.

Your hands grabbed at his shirt, pulling it out of his jeans so you could feel his toned skin under your fingertips.

“Felix,” you breathed.

He kissed his way back up to your ear, breath heavy when he whispered,”If you want this to stop, now would be a good time to leave.”

“I don’t want to leave,” you wrapped both arms around him and kissed his mouth again.

Felix laughed into the kiss, his hands pushing up your dress and then he broke the kiss to kneel down in front of you, pulling your panties down to your ankles. You quickly stepped out of them and he used the opportunity to grab your leg and place it over his shoulder.

You gasped out loud when his tongue started lapping at your clit. You braced yourself against the statue behind you while your other hand covered your mouth to keep yourself from crying out so loud they would hear you far beyond the walls of the maze and Saltburn. 

Felix didn’t waste any time, eating you out as if you were a dying man’s last meal, sucking and licking you to completion embarrassingly quickly.

The feel of his wet tongue invading your walls and his nose pressing up deliciously against your clit had you seeing stars and far beyond. You came with his name on your lips, legs shaking around him as he held you down and licked you through every last tremor.

Your legs were still unsteady when he finally released you and stood up, towering over you again. His mouth found yours in an all consuming kiss where you tasted yourself all over him, intoxicating you even further. You fumbled with his belt, desperate to get him out of his pants and into your aching wet heat. Felix was laughing into the kiss again.

“Aren’t you an eager little thing?” he teased, slapping your hand away and taking over, unbuckling his belt and pushing his pants down to free his cock. He was hard already, leaking at the tip and when your hand wrapped around his base the most filthy moan known to men left his beautiful lips, making you even more desperate for him.

Your leg was pulled up again, around his waist now and without further warning he was finally inside of you.

And it was better than you had ever imagined. 

Being with Felix was always like that, he was sunshine and rainbows in a world filled with grey. Everyone wanted to be in his light. You were no different. Ever since the first time he smiled at you on that warm sunny day at the university. 

You felt lucky to bask in his glow, even if it was just every now and then. Even if it was just once. It was a privilege, one you were sure you didn’t deserve.

He was patient at first, eyes searching yours to hold eye contact while he fucked you so sweetly and slowly, your back gently pushing up against the statue with every thrust.

“Hold onto me,” he breathed against your lips and you didn’t hesitate, wrapping both arms around him to cling to his shoulders as he took up the pace, one hand moving down to your ass to hold you in place so he could fuck you deeper.

“Yeah, just like that,” he moaned and kissed your neck again.

Your quiet, little whimpers seemed to spur him on. Your nails sank into his skin when he started breathing heavily with you, every snap of his hips pushing you closer towards that edge again and having him right there with you felt almost surreal, like something magical and out of this world. 

Deep in this enclosure of the maze, away from the real world, Felix lifted you to higher grounds again.

“You close, sweetheart?” he breathed into your ear.

You had no more words left, only whimpers and a quick, firm nod as you bit down on your lip, hard enough to draw blood.

His hand sank in between your legs to find your clit again, making you crash hard, walls clenching around him over and over, desperate to keep him right there but also powerless to stop the inevitable end.

Felix pulled out and quickly jerked himself off, he only needed two seconds to spurt his hot cum all over your stomach and legs. His body slumped against yours, his head falling on your shoulders with a quiet, long grunt.

Your arms wrapped around him, holding him in your hug and he didn’t pull away. It took him a moment but then he returned your affection, pulling you deep into his arms to hug you back.

“Thanks,” he breathed into your ear,”I needed that.”

“Yeah, me too,” you confessed with a quiet giggle.

He leaned back to look at you after a while, giving you a lopsided little grin when he noticed the evidence of his peak running down your legs.

”Messed you up, didn’t I?”

“It’s okay,” you shook your head with a smile.

“Here,” he took off his shirt and used it to wipe you clean. When he was done he handed the shirt to you and leaned in to place another soft, sweet kiss on your lips.

”Can you make your way out of here alright?” he then asked.

It was his polite way of saying “You can go now, we're done here” and you didn’t even have it in you to object.

“Can you?” you teased then, putting another smile on his face, making it impossible for you not to lean in and steal another kiss. One he willingly granted. 

“No more sulking tonight, alright?” you tried to cheer him up, give him back a little bit of the light he so often shared with you. “You are loved,” you added softly,”You know that, right? You are so loved, Felix. Catton.”

Your words made him lean in and press a soft lingering kiss to your forehead.

"Thank you," he breathed, eyes closing in a heavy sigh as they got teary again.

You wanted to stay and comfort him, keep him right here in your arms and give him everything he could possibly ask of you.

But you knew you were not what he needed. And when he reached for the bottle again you knew there was nothing left for you to do but leave. Leave him to his heartbreak and his despair.

With a heavy heart you let go of him and stepped back. You hadn’t even fully turned your back to him yet when Felix gave into his tears.

You passed by Oliver on your way out of the maze. His intense, creepy stare made every hair on your arms stand up. His eyes weren’t even looking at you, they were only looking at your shirt, Felix’s shirt, which you wore with pride now. Having something of him to physically hold onto made your heart feel a little less lonely, but the blunt anger and jealousy in Oliver’s eyes made you feel uneasy to the point you wanted to take it off. Like you took something that didn’t belong to you.

There was something not right about that boy and the worst thing was Felix couldn’t see it. Or maybe he could but it was too late for him to turn his back on it.

Infatuation, desire, love, it has the power to crawl under your skin and settle itself deep into your veins until you have no choice but to bleed out. Felix was already poisoned. You couldn’t save him, nobody could.

It was only a matter of time before Oliver would become his downfall.

[tojjist]

‘1-800-fix it felix !’

in which; When your boyfriend has a problem he knows who to call! Can you fix it? featuring: s.gojo x afab! reader contains: masturbation, face time s3x , reader shows her br3asts over the camera, bathroom masturb@tion, pet names (babe, baby), reader being a tease, gojo being js a little bit subby

Satoru thinks of you all the time. He thinks of the new perfume you bought last week, of the pretty dress you wore to your last date. He thinks about how pretty you look when your hair is done all up, and about how sweet your voice sounds in this voice note you just sent him.

Fuck. He’s hard.

Can you blame him? You just woke up and for some inexplicable reason thought sending him a voice message while he’s at work is a good idea. Do you not notice the way you sigh your half-coherent words? Do you not notice the way you sigh out your words, barely coherent? Satoru swears he can feel his ears tingling at the longing in your voice for him.

You’re not making this at all easy. 

Just as you start to drift back to sleep, there's a buzz somewhere around your head. Curses slip from your lips as you grope around the duvet, trying to locate your device with your half-asleep senses. With your eyes barely open, you try to read the contact name.

Of course it’s Satoru. Of course it’s a facetime call. He can’t settle for a damned text. It’s his brand at this point. You appreciate the attention, of course. But you’re sure you told him you’re going back to sleep in that voice note. 

As soon as your finger swipes the little green icon to answer the call, you begin to speak, “I swear to god Satoru-”

“Hey baby,” he cuts you off. It sounds like he's in a confined space. A toilet stall, maybe? You're too sleepy to dwell on it. “I missed you”

“Mhmm..” You yawn. “‘Missed you too…”

The camera on his end is slightly shaky, and so is his breath. But in this sleepy state you can barely notice it really.

“What's up...?” you ask, flipping over and adjusting the phone, ”is everything okay?”

“Yeah—fuck—” his eyebrows furrow, giving you a moment of confusion. "You're looking so pretty—hah—baby."

“Satoru…” realization dawns on you, excitement stirring within. “Show me.”

The camera trembles as it takes him nearly a minute to respond to your request. Finally, his finger hits the flip camera button, giving you a shaky view of his fist wrapped around his length, stroking himself vigorously. 

Pearly precum oozes from his tip, a thumb moving to spread it slightly before he goes back at it again.

“Oh? Is this all f’me?” You grin, observing his subdued grunts. It would be such a shame if someone were to come into the bathroom right now. “This early in the morning, too? Couldn’t you wait to get home at least?”

“Sh– hah– shut up,” he picks up the pace, starting from the very base, “at least make yourself– useful.”

Your tongue glides across your lower lip, considering your next move. While you love watching Satoru struggle on his own like this, relishing at the revelation that it’s the thought of you that makes him like this, you also think a little assistance wouldn’t harm. 

“What do you wanna see?” You smirk smugly, enjoying this ordeal.

“Fuck– fuck– baby,” he’s quiet resilient with it, strokes increasing in pace little by little. “Sh-show me your tits, baby.”

“Hmm? What if I don’t?” Undeniably, you’re gonna regret this later. You savor the moment nonetheless. There’s a certain sort of zest in the control you have over this moment.

“Fuck you,” his fist tightens around his dick, veins popping out. You love the view. God, you wish you were there to help. Your thighs tighten to squelch the heat growing in your core. “Please, baby, ‘wanna see my girl’s pretty– shit– tits”

That’s enough to convince you. More than enough, actually. Without hesitation, you lift your t-shirt up, showing him a view that nearly makes him faint. He can almost feel the warmth of your skin against his. He feels his climax reaching. You move your fingers, massaging your breast. That was his endgame.

A string of curses begins to slip past his lips, along with a grunted “I’m gonna- fuck- I'm gonna cum-”

Your grin widens, biting your lower lip. “Mhm… so hard for me, ‘Toru..? Wish I was there to help…” Your words come out stretched, all on purpose. It causes a robust groan to thunder through him. The view begins to totter. With a final groan, milky robes seep out of Storu’s shaft, running down his white knuckles and onto his thighs. His breathes even out as he comes down from his high.

“You’re welcome,” you hum, satisfied. You put the phone to your side, pulling your shirt back down. When you picked the phone back up, the call was hung up. You almost feel offended, rushing to text him a ‘what the fuck?’

Before you could text him the half-angry message, your phone vibrates again.

‘sorry babe someone came in’ - 8:46 am  ‘ill call u later’ - 8:46 am ‘love ya’ - 8:47 am

You roll your eyes, definitely planning on bringing this up later. Going back to sleep will be hard with the stain on your underwear. 

Maybe you’re going to be the one to call this time so he could fix it.

[imaginedisish]

The Only Exception (Din Djarin x fem!Reader)

A/N: Hey guys!!! Ahhh here is the Din Djarin x reader fic I said I’d post. This has been sitting in my WIPs since late November/early December. This is what I was working on before I got sick. I’m so happy it’s done. I’m pretty pleased with how it turned out, although I may have written something similar to this already. It’s very much inspired by “The Only Exception,” by Paramore. I’m hoping I didn’t use this song as a title yet....Oh well. ENJOY!

Summary: Din has been wildly overprotective of you lately, but maybe it’s because there’s something lying deep below the surface that’s been threatening to bubble over...

Warnings: SMUT!!!!! 18+ Please!!! Oral (f!receiving), fingering, PIV sex, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it), cursing, canon typical violence, Jedi!reader, Razor Crest still exists (and it’s def bigger in my head than it is in the show), praise kink, friends to lovers, angsty but fluffy and smutty dw, I only proofread like 2 times so it may be bad (it’s 3:16am...so...we die like men!), AFAB reader, uhhh I think that’s it...

Word Count: 3,078

“I swear to the Maker, if you don’t get back on the Crest now, I’m gonna-,”

Din is cut off by the sound of your lightsaber clashing through the plastoid armor of the stormtrooper to your left. You swing your saber around, showing off more than you need to. You throw it down the alleyway, feeling through the force as it cuts through another stormtrooper before finding its way back to your hand.

“You’re gonna what?” You say, tilting your head to the side. You point your saber to the stormtroopers scattered around the alleyway. “I just saved you.” You close your saber and cross your arms cockily.

Din shakes his head, his gaze refusing to meet yours. “And where’s the kid? You just left him on the Crest?” You roll your eyes, turning your back towards him as you remove your cloak from your shoulders. There, in perfect condition, is Grogu, secure in a little carrier on your back.

“You really think I’d be that dumb?” Your words have a callous edge to them. Din had been far moodier than usual over the past few days, and with that came a strange overprotectiveness that you hadn’t seen before. It was starting to feel as if he thought you were going to mess up, that you couldn’t take care of yourself. “You think I’d put the kid’s life at stake?”

“That’s not what I meant.” The anger in his voice has all but melted away. You’re shocked by how defeated he sounds now.

You inhale deeply, taking a moment to calm yourself down. “So what did you mean, Din?”

“We don’t have time for this now.” He’s curt and almost a bit cold, his modulated voice echoing off the walls of the alleyway. “We need to get back to the ship.”

You hate the way he’s brushing you off, ignoring you, pushing you to the side. You didn’t need this; you didn’t need to put up with his shit. Not anymore. “What is going on with you?” The words come out louder, more aggressive than you meant them to.

Din takes a single stride towards you, his broad figure practically shoving you against the wall in the process. “We are not doing this here.” The feeling of him being so close to you clouds your mind. You can’t form a coherent thought, never mind a sentence. You want to say something, to stand up for yourself, but you can’t. “Now cut the shit so we can get back to the ship.” There’s that anger again, that finality in his voice.

In the distance you can hear stormtroopers chatting, whispering your name, mumbling on about Grogu, warning each other about the Mandalorian. Din was right. There was no time to hash this out here. You nod, finally caving in. Din takes a step away from you, immediately grasping your wrist in his hand before making a break for the Crest, just on the other end of the alleyway.

Somehow you make it without being seen. Din lets go of your hand, motioning for you to get on the ship. You make a b-line for the back and carefully remove Grogu from his carrier, placing him in his crib. You stand frozen in place in front of it, watching his eyes flutter open and closed as he slowly drifts off to sleep.

You don’t want to move. You rather watch the child you had come to care so deeply for sleep peacefully than deal with a massively enraged Din. The oncoming fight would most definitely wake Grogu, so maybe it was best for you to hide in the little corner that you had come to call Grogu’s bedroom, completely unnoticed. But obviously, that’s not an option. You begrudgingly step towards the end of the hull and decide to keep your hands busy by organizing the tiny stock of food that lined a makeshift shelf along the far wall.

You can hear Din’s heavy steps on the other side of the ship, presumably heading up towards the cockpit. After a few seconds and many annoyed grunts from Din, the ship is lifted into the air and away from danger.

You try your best to bring yourself to get angry at him, to yell some explicative across the hull of the ship and spit a curse in his helmet-covered face. You wanted the consequences, for him to storm over and scream back. But you couldn’t – because things weren’t normally like this. Din had always been kind, caring, protective even.

He'd leave the cockpit to grab a blanket from his cot when you fell asleep in the co-pilot’s chair. He’d come back and gently, yet silently, tuck you in with it. It was the only blanket he had. Sometimes you’d wake up in his bed, having been carried into it at some point during the night. He’d be awake, taking care of the child, flying the Crest, making sure nothing and no green baby woke you up.

You’d be lying if you said his doting behavior didn’t draw you to him, that it didn’t make you crave him. Every soft touch on your shoulder, every time you pretended to be asleep just to feel his arms wrap around you as he brought you to his cot. You’d let your stares linger a little too long from time to time, pushing past your reflection in his armor, searching for some sort of sign that maybe he feels the same.

You wanted him to come up behind you, rest his hands on your hips, squeezing softly at the exposed inch of skin where your top and your pants just can’t seem to meet, and whisper in your ear in that husky, modulated voice that he’s sorry, that he’ll make up to you by-

“Never, ever, do anything like that again.” You practically jump out of your skin at the sound of his voice. You quickly turn around, not realizing how close Din had gotten to you. His chest is practically flush against yours, the proximity causing you to stumble back against the shelf, threatening to bring it down with you.

Din immediately snakes an arm around your waist, keeping you from falling against the cold metal floors below. Your arms instinctively reach up around his neck to stabilize yourself. You’re glued to him now, and you don’t particularly want to let go. You swallow harshly, intimidated by the way the beskar clad man seems to tower over you, by the way you can smell him, by the way his forehead practically touches yours.

You take a deep breath, furrowing your brows and doing your best to collect your thoughts despite the fog that the moment seemed to create in your brain. “Do what? Save your ass?” You spit, instantly regretting the harshness of your words, even if he deserves them.

“You weren’t supposed to leave the ship.” He’s stern, his voice somehow punishing. “You were supposed to stay here with the kid.”

You shake your head, feeling far too much like a child caught playing in the front seat of their parent’s speeder. “You needed my help! You would’ve died out there without me! And I can handle myself,” You yell, trying to ignore how you could feel the rise and fall of his chest against yours. “If this is about risking the kid’s life, I promise you I wasn’t. I would never put him-,”

He cuts you off, “I know you wouldn’t, that’s not what this is about.”

What? You think to yourself, confused beyond belief. If this wasn’t about the child, then what could this possibly be about? “So then what’s the problem?” You ask, more aware of the way that Din is holding you against him now than you were before.

You can hear Din inhale deeply through the modulator. “You.” A shudder rolls down your spine. “You could’ve gotten yourself killed.” There’s still an edge in his voice, but he’s calmer now, almost pained, as if considering your death in some dark corner of his mind.

“Sorry that my death would be such an inconvenience for you,” You say sardonically. “It’ll be hard trying to replace me with some other force-wielding wizard that’ll be willing to babysit for you, since clearly that’s all I am.” You wanted the words to sting him, to hurt him, and maybe they did, but it felt like a punch in the gut to simply think them. You wanted to grab the words from where they still hung in the air and shove them back into your mouth, to swallow them so that they could burn in the acid of your stomach.

Din tilts his head down, crushed, defeated. Your heart winces. Fuck. “That’s not what I meant, and you know it.” His stare finds yours again, and you quickly look down at his shoulder, too embarrassed to have him look you in your eyes.

You shake your head. “But Din, that’s the problem,” You say, somehow finding the courage to meet his gaze. “I don’t know what you mean. How am I supposed to know what you mean if you won’t kriffing tell-,”

“Fucking hell, I don’t want to lose you!”

Your eyes widen. “What?”

Din looks around the hull, as if the words he was searching for were hiding, wrapped somewhere around its silver walls. “I can’t lose you. And before you ask, no, it’s not because you train the kid or whatever the hell you think it is.” You can feel the pain in his voice, guilt quickly filling your gut. “It’s just…” He trails off, silence hanging heavy in the air.

“Well…what is it?” You mumble, struggling to force down the lump in your throat. You wish you could see his face, to get a sense of his expression, an inkling as to what he was really feeling.

“You,” He says, as if those three letters held some secret, omniscient being or meaning. To him, they did. It was you. You were the thing that kept him up at night, the thing that made him want to show every facet of his being for the first time in his life.  “You’re reckless and careless and sometimes you drive me absolutely insane.”

You scoff. “Wow, what a glowing review of my services!”

Din shakes his head. “You don’t fucking get it. You’re so much more than that, because even though you drive me crazy,” He pauses; the modulator picks up his breath as it catches in his throat, “I know I’d never be able to spend an entire lifetime without you in it.”

You’re speechless. An entire lifetime? “Din I-,”

“Close your eyes.”

“What? You just said all that and you want me to close my-,”

“Just close your eyes. You trust me, don’t you?”

Of course I trust you, smart-ass, You think to yourself. So, you do what he says, shutting your eyes firmly. Then there’s a hiss, and then something clunks loudly against the floor. And then…

It’s warm, and soft, and smooth, and all those other perfect words someone would use to describe the perfect kiss. He has a mustache under all that metal, and now you know, because it tickles ever so gently just above your upper lip. His hands squeeze your hips just a bit tighter, pulling you further into his chest.

His lips press deeper into yours, hungrier. You keep your eyes closed tightly, your hands sliding up and into his hair, combing gently. He moans into your mouth at the touch as he guides you away from the shelf and towards his cot.

“D-Din,” You stutter in between gasps.

“What is it, mesh’la?” He presses a chaste kiss to your forehead.

You can feel the heat pooling at the bottom of your stomach, but there’s something stopping you, something telling you that there’s no possible way this could ever be real, that it wasn’t a set-up, that it wasn’t a dream. “Do you really want this?”

“More than anything.” You can hear the smirk in his voice, and you silently wish to yourself that you could see it. “Do you?”

You nod, repeating his words, “More than anything.”

His lips find yours again, his knee nudging in between your thighs as he pushes you down onto his cot. He’s on top of you now, his hands on either side of your body. “Wanted you for so long…” He whispers in your ear. “Wanted you this whole time.” Fuck, he was going to kill you.

Din presses sloppy kisses into the crook of your neck, leading up to your jaw. His hands stretch under the hemline of your shirt, his fingertips gliding across your stomach and towards the edge of your bra. You shudder as he reaches underneath, slowly inching towards your chest.

Something was changing within him, and that something was you. You made him want to throw his Creed away, to ignore all he had been taught his entire life. How could you ever possibly be something he shouldn’t have? He needed you.

More than anything. And you needed him.

“Please,” You beg. “I need you Din, please.”

And just like that, something within him finally switched.

“Open your eyes, cyare,” He’s so quiet you almost miss it. His fingers dip underneath your bra, rolling a nipple between his thumb and forefinger teasingly before doing the same to the other. “’Want you to look at me when I make you come.”

Panic rises to your chest. “W-what, are you sure? What about the Creed, what about-,”

“It doesn’t matter, not if it means I can’t have you.”

You wait a moment, giving him time to change his mind, but he doesn’t. You let your eyes flutter open, his curly hair and brown eyes flooding your vision. And Maker, there’s that smile, the smile you’d only heard through laughs and sarcastic, snide quips. You swear your heart skips a beat, maybe even two. He was perfect. Of course he was fucking perfect.

“You’re beautiful,” You whisper, your hands finding their way to his cheeks, his neck, your fingertips carefully running over his lips. His forehead rests down on yours, his eyes closing softly, reveling in the intimacy.

Din lifts himself off you and makes his way down your body, settling in between your legs. His fingers hook the waistline of your pants, tugging them down and throwing them somewhere in the hull. He feels your core through your soaked panties.

“So fucking wet for me, pretty girl,” He coos, practically ripping your panties as he pulls them down your legs. “Need to taste you.”

“F-fuck, Din,” You breathe sharply as his tongue laps at your clit, your hips lifting off the mattress. Din presses an arm across your hips, keeping you down against the cot, his free hand spreading your slick, teasing your entrance.

“’Tastes so good,” He rasps, his voice vibrating deliciously against your core. “Doing so good for me sweet girl.”

His mouth sucks harshly at your clit, taking the small bundle of nerves into his mouth, lapping at you like he was starving. You wanted more, needed more.

“N-need you, Din,” You whine, your hips fighting against the arm that held you down. He pushes you down further into the mattress, his mouth pressing even deeper onto your core.

“Not done with you yet,” He grunts, pushing two fingers into your entrance, pumping in and out, fast and hard. You could feel yourself growing closer with each thrust.

You moan his name like it’s a prayer, and in this moment it is. “Din, please, I, just…” But you can’t finish your sentence. It’s all too much, his fingers, his tongue, his voice, him. He was everywhere and everything all at once. And yet you needed more.

“Use your words, sweet girl,” He says patiently, nonchalantly.

“I want…” Your words fail again. “I…need you to f-fuck me, please.”

But he doesn’t stop, he keeps going. “I said I wasn’t done with you yet.” You could feel your walls fluttering around his fingers, teetering just on the edge.

“I’m so close,” You pant in between ragged breaths.

And then, abruptly, he pulls away, leaving you cold and empty. Before you can even think to sit up or reach out for him, he was back, his hips resting against yours, his pants and armor now somewhere scattered to the side. You could feel his cock throbbing against your inner thighs. He lines himself up with your entrance, teasing you.

“Din,” You whimper. “Plea-,”

He buries himself inside you, cutting you off, stretching you out. “So fucking tight,” He praises, pulling all the way out before thrusting back into you, filling you up again. “So soft, so perfect.” His fingers find your clit, circling the nerves roughly.

His forehead rests on your own as his left-hand searches for your right one. His fingers intertwine with yours just above your head, keeping you from drowning, cementing you there with him. It all feels so good, each pump, each circle at your clit. You can feel your walls clenching around him.

“Taking me so well,” He soothes, rocking into you. “Such a good girl.” It was all too much, his words, his cock.

“I-I’m gonna-,” You choke, white heat flooding your vision. You know Din isn’t far behind, his hips stuttering against yours.

“Come for me, sweet girl, that’s it,” Din moans, sending you over the edge. You feel yourself shattering underneath him, falling apart into a million pieces, only to be put back together again. His name slips off your tongue as he comes inside you.

His hips roll slowly against yours, gently rocking into you a few more times before pulling out.  

He shifts a bit so that you can comfortably lay on his chest. After all that, there’s only one thing you can think about.

“You wouldn’t be able to live without me?”

You look up at Din. His smirk stretches into a smile. He presses a kiss to your forehead. “I wouldn’t, no.” He says it so matter-of-factly, so simply, as if it was common knowledge. “I need you. I always have.”

“I need you too.” He was the only person you had ever needed, the only exception. You didn’t need to tell him. He knew. Always has, always will.

You are the only exception

You are the only exception

And I'm on my way to believing

Oh, and I'm on my way to believing

[princessbiteme0o0]

Just Friends, Hmm?

SMUT, SMUT, SMUT

So in other worDS MINORS D.N.I. 🔪

(Thank you @littleskeletonprincessss for the pic :) )

This is pure filth…

💫Beware💫

Description: Welcome to, I’m bored and my mind likes to run wild (a dream that I had last night). Schlatt makes my heart do the buhbump type o’ flutter (his dumbass makes me melt) so I hope you enjoy this as much as my brain enjoyed the dream.

Warnings: AHEM. SMUT… very VERY detailed smut ;)) Slight (fem pronouns, some adjectives) descriptors used, kinda Daddy kink? It’s only used a few times sooooo- but it’s HEAVILY implied.

Other than that, I’m sick and easily irritable, so if you don’t like it, don’t read it. Otherwise, hope you enjoy. (I don’t think it needs trigger warnings ((just Jay being rough)), but if you disagree lmk). Love y’all ❤️

(Updated A/N): RAAAAHHHH I AM SORRY IT TOOK SO LONG- I’ve had a very rough last few days.

—💕—💕—

Schlatt should’ve known better than to cave when Ted asked for him to bring her onto the podcast. She was a fellow streamer and they hadn’t decided whether their relationship was anything real or if it was just ‘for funsies’, as she put it.

Biting the inside of his cheek, he watched her image through discord as she answered questions here and there for Ted, while he just leaned back in his chair and his eye twitched.

“So, (Y/N)… Anyone special in your life?” Ted asks, a small smirk on his lips as his eyes flashed to Schlatt’s- Ted had his suspicions, but no substantial evidence to his assumptions.

“No, not really.” She hums softly, taking a sip from her energy drink- He could use that.

“Where’s the gamer supps, (Y/N)?” His tone was stern and it made her eyes do a little flutter- that Ted definitely didn’t miss.

“Did you check up your ass and to the left?” She is quick to quip back, despite her little tumble.

“No, but would you like me to check yours?” He has an eyebrow raised in subtle warning and Ted is all grins as a warm blush raises on her cheeks.

“In your dreams, pube-cheeks.” She hisses out, glaring through the camera.

“Wanna repeat that, sweetheart?”

“Am I missing something?” Ted interjects, but she quickly composed herself and she shook her head, while Schlatt recovered from his fuming at her comment.

“Not a thing, Teddy.” She hummed, batting her eyelashes at him. The subtle flirtatious gesture did nothing but stoke the fire set on Schlatt’s ass.

“Mmh, that right, Honey?” If she was at his house right now, he’d bend her over his desk, finger fuck her until she couldn’t see straight and make her beg for him to stop. A brief silence on her end and her eyes becoming hazy for a moment was a sign that she was slipping back into submission, just at the way he spoke.

“Th-that’s right.” She tried to confidently huff out, but her voice came out shaky as she stuttered on her words. The interaction went forgotten between Ted and Tucker, but Schlatt couldn’t help but smirk each time he noticed her looking at him and adjusting herself in her seat. Once the recording for the podcast was over, Schlatt gripped his phone firmly in his hand and dialed her number.

“Jay…” Her voice whined as she answered. He let out a soft ‘tsk’, clicking his tongue before replying.

“Now, now… Is that any way to answer the phone, Toots?” He teased, making a soft whimper sound through the speaker of his phone. Chuckling softly, he leaned back in his chair.

“I’m sorry…” She mumbles softly.

“Then why don’t you come over here and show me just how sorry you are, Pumpkin?” He hums warmly, the grumble in his voice making her rub her thighs together and let out a shaky breath.

“Yes Sir…”

-

She doesn’t remember much of the drive to his house (obviously not, with so many distractions on her mind). Somehow, she became coherent enough to realize she was sitting in her car, staring at his house. Her heart raced in her chest, as it always did when he was involved. For the first time in a long, long time, someone made her feel special; made her want to dance in the rain, made her want to lay on a blanket and stare up at the stars. He made her want to do all of the stupid, cute shit you see in the cheesy romantic movies. He also made her melt, whether that be between her legs or her heart sat comfortably in her chest- she wanted to give him the world even though he already had it.

When she finally summoned the courage, she stepped out of her car and made her way towards his front door. Before she could even knock, the door is swung open and she’s pulled inside. The door is quickly slammed shut and she’s shoved against the wall, both hands pinned up by his right hand and his left hand resting comfortably around her throat. Her eyes closed and a smile spread across her lips at the feeling of his fingers pressed up against her soft skin.

“I don’t know what you’re smiling for, Toots.” He whispers in her ear, his mutton chops brushing against her cheek. “I never said I’d let you cum.”

“But, Jay…” She whines making him chuckle. Every sound she made and every expression that crossed her pretty little face made him fall more and more in love with her. He struggled to keep his composure for a moment, but then he lets out a soft tut.

“You made your bed, Honey… Now I’m gonna fuck you in mine.” He growls lowly, moving to quickly throw her over his shoulder. She lets out a soft squeal as he does this and she smacks his ass repeatedly as he walked towards his bedroom. She was giggling wildly as he trekked his way up the stairs and he felt his heart melt at the sound. He delivered a solid spank to her rear and she let out a soft sound somewhere between a yelp and a moan. Throwing her down on his bed, he crawled slowly and menacingly over her, his fingertips ghosting up the inside of her thighs.

“Not seeing anyone, hmm?” He asked, eyes glancing up at her as he leaned down to kiss her belly over her shirt.

“I- I’m-“ She stuttered out nervously, body trembling with every touch from him.

“What was that?” He played dumb, fingers moving further upwards and sneaking below her skirt.

“Jay I-“ She’s quickly cut off by a lewd whine when he presses his thumb firmly against her clit through her panties.

“Finish your sentence, Doll.” He hummed the demand as if it were the most simple thing to do in the world.

“P-please Jay…” She whines, hands reaching down to rush him, but the reply he growled made her retract her hands.

“Don’t you fuckin’ dare.”

“Yes Sir…” She mumbles and he slaps the inside of her thigh, making her repeat it more firmly to show that she understood. He pushed aside her panties and with a feather-lite touch, his fingers passed over her and he closed his eyes at the warmth while her juices already soaked his fingers. Her thighs subconsciously tried to close and as a result, he buried his teeth into her skin. She whined and thrashed beneath him as he sucked a warm, wet hickey on her inner thigh.

“You don’t seem to have such a problem with my pube-cheeks when they’re rubbing between your thighs.” He grumbled, leaning forward to press a soft kiss to her sensitive bud, making her mewl his name.

“Jay!” Her voice whined out, making a chuckle reverberate through his chest and the air rolled vibrations across her warm, pulsating center.

“Maybe I should call Teddy and let him hear who really makes you feel good.” He growled softly, biting the inside of her thigh.

“N-no!” She squeaked out, hands fisting into the sheets as he sucked a dark purple mark on her soft, pale skin.

“Why not? You thought it was so appropriate to flirt with him right in front of me. What? You tryin’ to make me jealous, Toots?” He hummed, eyes peering up at her. As soon as his eyes met hers from his place settled between her legs, she looked away in an attempt to hide her growing blush.

“No!” She snapped, but he could practically hear the deception in her tone.

“Surely you know better than to lie to me by now, Angel.” He spoke lowly, a growl settling in the back of his throat while he spoke. Her legs quaked and the blush on her face creeped down her neck as she slowly became more and more embarrassed.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” She huffed, a frown set across her lips. While she wasn’t looking, Schlatt used this opportunity to press his middle finger and his ring finger inside of her. Her facial expression twitched, but she tried to hold her guard.

“C’mon, Pumpkin… You can tell me.” He cooed, trying to coax the truth out of her by curling his fingers upwards, making her body jolt with a rush of pleasure that made her blood run hot and her heart rate jump.

“Jay… Please…” She begged softly, her legs twitching on either side of him as he continued to work his fingers.

“You make it hard to focus when you beg with such a pretty voice.” He hums, tongue flashing out to run across her pretty little flower while he worked his fingers.

“Nnhhg J-ay!” She mewled, her legs closing around his head.

“Mmh look at you, my pretty little angel… I bet Ted would just love to see your face.” The sound that came from the back of his throat when she tightened around him at the thought would’ve struck fear into the depths of her soul if it wasn’t for the amount of pure bliss coursing through her every cell. “Oh, so you like that idea, hmm? Like letting your dear, sweet Teddy know who you really belong to?” He hissed, biting down on her clit and ripping a scream from the back of her throat.

“Schlatt! Pl-please!” She had tears running down her cheeks by now as she thrashed under his hold. He was quick to wrap one of his arms under her thighs and yank her closer to him so his face is pressed so deeply into her that she couldn’t possibly escape.

“Who do you belong to?” He growled as he pulled his fingers from her and replaced them with his tongue.

“You, Jay! I’m all- yours!” She hiccuped out, choking on her tears.

“Louder.” He grunted into her, the vibration of his words making her legs shake and clench around his head, squeezing his cheeks.

“I belong to you…” She whispered, barely able to breathe with the sheer pleasure making her body stutter and attempt to silence her, but Schlatt would have none of that so he sucked her throbbing bud into his mouth, flicking his tongue over it as he sucked. “Daddy!”

That one word made him stop for a moment. He lifted his head just enough to stare seemingly through her soul. “What was that, Toots?” His voice was just a touch above a whisper and he held back a smirk, just staring at her. Whimpering, she shook her head as her cheeks grew an inflamed shade of red.

“N-nothing Jay.” She mumbles out, unable to make eye contact with him. He gave her absolutely soaked pussy a light slap in correction.

“None of that…” He grumbled as she whined and mewled in embarrassed pleasure beneath him. “Say it again.”

“No…” She whispered softly, rapidly shaking her head in vibrant insecurity. Growling, Jay lowered his head between her legs again in an attempt to hear the word tumble from her lips again. When he slipped his fingers into her, angling them upwards and started sucking on her clit again, her hips bucked up and pretty whines fell from her lips once more. “Please, please, oh god, please Jay, please! Please, Daddy!” She cried out and Schlatt was absolutely delighted with the arch of her back and the sound of her voice.

“That’s it… Good girl, good fucking girl.” He hummed into her and in a second her hands were buried in his hair as she twitched over and over again.

“More- I need- Nnghh-“ She choked out, tugging on his hair. Schlatt pulled away for a moment and leaned his head on her thigh, looking up at her with a dopey grin.

“What is it, Pumpkin? Tell me what you need.” He cooed, placing gentle kisses along her thigh. His sudden turn to gentle behavior made her heart melt and her composure break.

“Need you, Daddy. Need it so bad.” She whines out softly, her voice broken and desperate.

“Aww, is that right? Baby doll needs her Daddy’s cock? Hmm? Is that it?” He asked while gently massaging her hips with his hands and placing warm, wet kisses across her abdomen.

“Need your cum… Please, Jay… Please?” Her request made him grind his hips against the bed. A deep rooted groan leaves him and he completely abandoned her aching cunt. Her words, her voice, her desperation, sent him into a state of pure adrenaline driven lust. Sitting back on his heels, he shoved his joggers down, making his cock bob free. He gripped her hips and yanked her towards him, curling her legs up over his shoulders and laying his body against hers. Sliding his cock deep into her, a squeak of surprised pleasure leaves her and his body twitched, letting out a sigh of relief.

“You want me to make you a mommy? Hmm? Want me to fuck a baby into you so I can see you all round and gorgeous?” She couldn’t do anything but mewl for him with the position he placed her in. He was quick to piston his hips against hers, hand squeezing between them so that his thumb could brush over her clit in tight circles.

“Yes Daddy! Yes, yes!” She nearly screamed, back arching and body shaking. Schlatt used his free hand to gently wrap around her neck, applying pressure carefully to the sides. A dark chuckle leaves his lips when he watches her eyes roll back in her head.

“Hope you’re ready, Toots… I’m not stopping until you’re so full of my cum that there’s no way you’re not pregnant.” He hums, pulling his hand from her neck to slip two fingers into her mouth. He watched and his cock twitched as she looked up at him with those big, innocent blue eyes as she sucked on his fingers and attempted to muffle her moans around them.

“Then, when I’m done with your pussy, I’m going to plug you up and make you swallow my cock. How that sound, my little Angel?” She whines and her pussy tightens as she approaches the edge. He slowed his thrusts just enough to teeter her on the edge. “Tell me who you belong to.” He grunts out between slow thrusts.

“You, Jay, you… I’m all yours- I love you.” As soon as the words leave her mouth, his thrusts pick back up, along with the movement of his hand on her clit. His lips crashed to hers, slipping his tongue into her mouth to assert his dominance, as if it wasn’t already clear enough.

“Fuck, Darlin’, I’m gonna cum.” He grumbles against her lips, pressing his forehead to hers.

“Please, please, please, please.” She chanted, nails digging into his shoulders, sure to leave marks for the next day. With a growl mixed somewhere with a groan, he shoves his cock as deep inside of her as it would go and releases. The feeling of his cum painting her walls caused a chain reaction- tears streaming down her cheeks, illegible sobbing words, her pussy clamping down so hard it nearly suffocated him and then finally, her pussy squirting and covering over his lower half, her lower half and even the sheets in her juices.

“Oh fuck, Pumpkin.” He mumbles as he tries to catch his breath. A smirk slowly inches its way across his lips and his eyes turned into a devious storm. “You made quite the mess, tsk… Let’s see if you can do it again.”

[blindmagdalena]

The Cuckoo's Nest

18+ 6.3k siren!homelander x f!reader. dub/noncon, infidelity, mind/emotional manipulation, gaslighting, voice kink, masturbation, penetrative sex, fingering, blood, gore, cannibalism? creampie, stalking, minor character death, praise kink, good girl/pretty girl.

The gentle and pleasing voice of the cuckoo bird has made it a renowned herald of spring, and perhaps one of the most famous of songbirds. One would never guess merely by looking at it that it is a predatory parasite.

What you thought would be a dream job working for Vought as Homelander's very own secretary turns into a surreal waking nightmare as reality and dreams converge in a confusing mess. The only coherent thread that strings it all together is the alluring pull of Homelander's unnatural voice.

written for Monsterlander Mania. fair warning, this fic is fairly dark! thank you so much @anon-nee for this amazing banner art. 🖤

When you were hired as Homelander’s secretary, the gig had been pitched as a cushy desk job. Now that he’s the new face of Vought, and Ashley the company CEO, he needs someone who will keep his day to day affairs in order. Apparently, you’re just the person for that job.

“You probably won’t see much of him,” Ashley tells you distractedly. She rarely ever looks away from her phone for long.

“There are two landlines on your desk. The left one is for general business, and the one on the right, the red one, is exclusively for him. Don’t make calls on it. He has the number memorized, he’s the only one who’ll ever call it, so make sure you always answer it.”

“Yes, ma’am,” you say diligently.

Glancing over, Ashley does a double take. “Aren’t you married? Where’s your ring?”

You falter, looking down at your hands. “Oh,” you say, taking said ring out of your pocket. “I put hand cream on earlier, I just forgot to put it back on.”

“Make sure you keep that on,” she says, giving you a critical look before returning her gaze to her phone. “He’s particular.”

What the fuck is that supposed to mean?

Nevertheless, you make sure to always keep your wedding ring on while you’re at work.

True to Ashley’s word, you see neither hide nor hair of Homelander during your first three days. You make his appointments, you take calls on his behalf, and you organize his bookings.

In your office, directly across from your desk, hangs a borderline comically oversized portrait of him that stares relentlessly at you as you work. You often find yourself staring back at it, the back of your neck prickling with the irrational feeling of being watched.

You know that it’s just in your head, but you can’t help but be put off by the feeling. Sometimes you consider covering the portrait, but the last thing you want is for the man to appear out of the blue and see a blanket thrown over his likeness.

Your instinct proves correct.

“Hey you,” comes a voice like silk. You startle, looking up from your desk to find a shock of red, white and blue standing in your doorway, his arms folded casually behind his back.

“Homelander,” you say, nearly choking on the name. “Sir, hello. I’m–”

“I know,” he interjects smoothly, cape swaying behind him as he passes the threshold, making his way over to your desk. That voice. He’s not even said five words to you yet, but it lingers in your ears like warm honey, causing a flush of warmth to roll through you. You convince yourself that you’re just embarrassed to have been caught so thoroughly off guard. “My new secretary. Sorry I couldn’t stop by sooner.”

“Oh, there’s no need to apologize, sir. I know better than most how–” you hesitate, watching as he takes a turn and begins walking directly towards you, circling behind your desk. “–busy you are,” you finish, looking up at him as he looms over you. You wonder if you should stand, but he’s so close to you now, you’d just knock right into him.

He smells good. Earthy and slightly sweet, like vetiver.

“That’s pretty,” he remarks, gesturing to your ring finger. “Sapphire, huh? Unusual choice.”

You swallow, trying desperately to reign in the cadence of your breath. Your heart is pattering as wildly as rain drops. “Thank you. My husband chose it, it’s his birthstone.”

To which Homelander giggles. It’s a delighted, slightly off-putting little noise. “P’wow, he gave you a ring with his birthstone, huh? Really staking his claim,” he says, reaching down to take your hand. He looks at you just before he makes contact. His eyes are even bluer than the stone in your ring. “May I?”

Dumbstruck, you nod, lifting your hand and placing it in his upturned palm. He sits on your desk and turns your hand this way and that, watching the way your ring catches the light. Eventually, his gaze slips back to yours. “Happily married?”

“Very,” you say immediately, your throat suddenly dry.

He smiles, and only then do you notice how unusually sharp his canines are.

“Good. Glad to hear it,” he says, giving your hand a gentle pat before he lets it go. You immediately drop your hand into your lap, touching your ring. You feel strangely lightheaded all of a sudden, unable to look away from his piercing gaze. Even when he isn’t speaking, you can still hear the warmth of his tone echoing all around you.

“Well, it was a pleasure to meet you,” he says, standing from your desk with preternatural elegance, as if he’d floated more than lifted himself.

“Please, the pleasure was all mine,” you say with a smile, somewhat dazed. “I look forward to seeing you again.”

He looks pleased as punch at that. “I’ll try not to be such a stranger, hmm?” he purrs, reaching out to give your shoulder a friendly squeeze. You feel the rumble of his voice roll all the way down your spine and into the core of you, leaving a light throb nestled between your thighs.

“I’d like that. Thank you, sir,” you say, your voice sounding dreamy and distant in your own ears.

Flashing that same toothy grin, he shoots you a wink before he turns face with a slight flourish of his cape, the fabric billowing in his wake as he takes his leave, disappearing down the hall.

The second he’s gone, it’s like the spell of his presence breaks and you come crashing back to yourself, eyes wide. A hot broil of shame rolls through you when you realize how aroused you are, that throb lingering. You’re equal parts shocked and disgusted with yourself, sickened by the hot prickle lingering on every inch of your skin.

Holy shit. What the fuck was that?

You wind up leaving an hour early, eager to be home. The shame makes you desperate to see your husband, as if touching him will erase the residual traces of the effect that Homelander had on your body.

It doesn’t. In fact, that feeling of being watched follows you all the way home, the feel of it becoming a specter haunting your house. When your husband seeks intimacy from you in your bed later that night, you push his hands away.

“Sorry,” you say softly, shaken. “Not tonight.”

Your body still remembers him too viscerally.

That night, you dream of songbirds.

Two days later, the right landline rings for the first time. You stare blankly at it, your stomach immediately twisting into knots. It rings, once, twice, nearly a third time before you hurriedly snatch it up off the receiver. “Hello?”

“Hey, sweetheart,” comes Homelander’s familiar drawl. His voice falls over you like a wash of sunlight, warm and heavy. “Thought you might be ignoring me for a second there.”

“No, no, never. Sorry, sir,” you say, reaching for your water. You take a quick sip. “What can I do for you?”

“Nothing too dire, just a little shuffling. Can you bump tomorrow’s 4pm to Thursday for me?” He asks, voice slipping around your throat like a noose. The press of it makes you slightly breathless.

“Of course,” you say, balancing the phone on your shoulder while you manipulate your tablet. “That’s no problem at all, done.”

“That’s my girl,” he says, the phone turning his voice into an intimate rumble in your ear.

You blink, feeling like your mouth is full of cotton. You can’t seem to form a response.

“What’s the matter, sweetheart?” He asks, and you swear up and down you can hear a smile in his voice. “Cat got your tongue?”

“Was there anything else, sir?” You manage to blurt out, words leaving you in a clumsy spill. You’re breathing shallowly, mouth parched. You snatch up your water and take another quick sip. There’s a long pause on the line, the silence so deafening you think for a moment you must have missed something. “Sir?”

“Touch yourself.”

Your heart falls into your stomach, but that feeling is nothing compared to the unbidden liquid heat that those words erupt throughout your body.

“What?”

“You heard me,” he says patiently. Amused, even. “Touch yourself. Take your hand–no, no, the left one,” he says in response to your right hand drifting down. You weren’t even aware you’d started moving. You swap the phone from your left hand to your right, and grab hold of your thigh with your left hand.

“I don’t understand,” you say, the words feeling as thick as molasses on your tongue. “Why are you–”

“That’s good. Now, move those pretty fingers in. Just like that,” he directs, and to your own distant horror, your hand moves, sliding between your legs and lifting up your skirt, your sparkling ring disappearing beneath it. You press your middle finger directly to your beating clit and let go a shuddering breath, massaging it through your panties.

“That’s it, pretty girl. Show me how you like it, mm? Bet your husband still doesn’t know the first fuckin’ thing about how to make you feel good. He ever watch you do this to yourself, ever bother to learn how you like to be touched?”

Disoriented, you shake your head. Your hips reflexively lift to meet the smooth figure-eights you rub yourself with. You’re sure you’d agree to anything he said so long as he keeps talking.

“Didn’t think so. Don’t you worry your pretty little head, sweetheart. I know exactly what you need.”

The heat of his voice envelops you, makes your whole body feel aflame. You’ve never been so sensitive in your life, already shuddering and squirming in your seat from the intensity of sensation building beneath your fingers.

“Slow down. There’s no rush. You’re as good as mine now.”

His voice is like velvet but his words sting, needling something inside you that squirms. You screw your eyes shut and shake your head more fervently. “No, no, m’not… I don’t…”

“Shhhhh,” he hushes, the hiss of it like a serpent in your ear. “Give it up for me, sweetheart.”

A whimper escapes your throat, the noise all but choked out of you. You can’t move, save for the increasingly frantic stroke of your fingers. His voice is a physical caress that slips down the line of your throat, between your breasts, slinking in serpentine patterns until it spills over your fingers and–

You gasp awake, staring wide-eyed at your blurry ceiling as wave after wave of pure euphoria crashes over you, stealing your capacity for breath. You ride out the aftershocks of your orgasm in a state of delirium, the shadows on your ceiling dancing like a voyeuristic crowd. You’re not sure if it takes seconds, minutes or hours to end, your perception of time distorted by the sheer intensity of sensation.

Looking to your side, panting, you see your husband sleeping soundly beside you. His snores are faint and peaceful. The curtains of your balcony door billow softly with the night’s breeze.

Your day comes back to you in a slow blur. The phone call was real, you’re sure of it… Aren’t you? Reaching for your phone, you hurriedly log into your Vought calendar and check the schedule. Sure enough, in your history, you can see that you bumped his next day R&D meeting to Thursday. That was real.

You wrack your brain for the details of your day, trying to piece together how you got from there to here, and whether or not any of Homelander’s voice cooing lewd commands in your ear was real. 

It couldn’t have been. 

The more the dream fades from your mind, the more you remember the rest of your day. You remember hanging up the phone, finishing your work day as per usual, and going home to your husband. Though it’s all something of a strange blur, the memories are there.

Even so, the dream somehow feels more real than any of it.

It’s 5am and you doubt you’ll be sleeping again. You get up early, shower, and make breakfast all before your husband even makes it to the kitchen. Your dreams and the haze of yesterday fade with the rising sun, as all dreams and memories often do.

You’re in the process of putting your dishes away when he walks in, still rubbing the sleep from his eyes. “You got an early start today?” He asks, biting back a yawn.

It’s cute. He’s cute. You feel an irrational spike of guilt.

It was just a dream.

“Didn’t sleep well,” you admit, kissing him on the cheek. You wrinkle your nose. “Oof, morning breath,” you say playfully, but there’s an edge of truth to it. You can’t explain it, but there’s something off about the way your husband smells this morning.

Your mind drifts wistfully to the pleasant memory of sweet vetiver.

By the time you make it to work, your morning is nothing but a distant recollection at the peripheral of your consciousness. 

Nonetheless, the sight of that bright red landline still makes you blush. 

You don’t see Homelander again for another three days. At least, not at work. In reality, you’re more aware of him than you’ve ever been in your life. His face is everywhere, be it TV or billboards. You see him in the grocery store, the post office, and even the goddamn DMV. You never really noticed until now how inescapable Homelander truly is.

It’s no wonder he continues to appear in your dreams, too. You can’t seem to remember any of them very well, but you know without a doubt each time you wake that you were haunted by sapphire blue eyes and a voice as decadent as sin.

Sometimes you recall a gorgeous view of the city hundreds of feet in the air. Other times you recall a blue bed, but the thing you remember most is mirrors. You see yourself clearly in them. You see him with you.

All the while a budding friction between you and your husband continues to grow. You find yourself telling him more often to brush his teeth, shower, anything to combat this bizarre stink he’s taken on. Some days it’s so bad, you swear you smell rotting meat before you realize it’s him. Even the sound of his voice grates on you, both rough and shrill in a way that agitates you further and further into isolation in the house you once happily shared.

On that third day at work, you’re penciling in a meeting regarding a potential collaboration with Superplastic when a rhythmic knock at the door jostles you from focus. You look up to call them in, but Homelander is already striding inside, stealing the words right off the tip of your tongue. 

“Goooood afternoon,” he drawls, the door falling shut behind him. For as much as you’ve continued to see and hear of him, you had forgotten how different he sounds in person, the force of his presence instantly a weight upon your body.

Your brain completely malfunctions. Night after night of erotic whispers suddenly crashes down upon you in visceral detail, how multiple times you woke to the throes of an orgasm with his voice still echoing in your ears. Humiliation and arousal flood you in equal measure, turning your skin hot.

Homelander smiles at you from the other side of your desk all the while. 

“Cat got your tongue?” He asks slyly. The question hurdles you backwards in time to the moment you were seated in this exact spot with him whispering downright pornographic filth into your ear, coaxing you into touching yourself into a frenzy.

It was just a dream. It was just a dream. It was a dream.

“Good afternoon, sir,” you finally manage to say, wincing internally at the sound of your own voice.

“Don’t be so formal,” he says, giving a dismissive little wave. “C’mon, call me Homelander,” he says, once again circling around behind your desk. Your eyes widen slightly, mouth bone dry when you try to swallow. He sweeps his cape out of the way before taking a leisurely seat on your desk. He lifts his brows, pinning you with an expectant stare. “Go on, try again.”

“Uh, good afternoon, Homelander,” you correct yourself. His proximity to you is making it hard to focus–there it is again, the scent of vetiver. He smells like summer grass warmed by the hot sun, and he has a gravitational pull to him that has you leaning subconsciously towards him.

His smile widens. “Much better.” His eyes narrow a touch, flickering down briefly before snapping back up to meet your gaze. 

“So! How’s the office, everything nice and cozy?” He asks, one hand braced next to him on your desk, the other gesturing vaguely about. Before you can even answer, he points to your lap. 

“Chair good? I know how important lumbar support is when you’re sitting all day.”

Discussing your lumbar support needs with Homelander certainly had not been on your bingo sheet.

“Uhm, yes, it’s–” Again, before you can get a real answer in, he’s sitting up and making sweeping motions with his hand.

“Let’s see, up, up, lemme take this bad boy for a spin,” he says, making your heart leap up into your throat when he catches you by your waist and effortlessly lifts you up out of your office chair, turning to set you on your feet. With a flourish of his cape, he drops down into your chair, legs spread wide.

You gawk momentarily, watching him spin side to side.

“Oop, there’s that lumbar,” he says, leaning back into it. He’s grinning at you all the while, the moment entirely surreal. You huff an incredulous little laugh, crossing your arms. He’s a little ridiculous, you realize, but personable. 

Have you been the problem this whole time, turning him into something he’s not? You’re starting to lose yourself in your thoughts as you watch him.  

“How about we test the suspension? C’mere,” he says, giving his thigh a pat. “Sit.”

You snap back to attention, your smile falling away. “Pardon?”

“Sit,” he says again, his smile a predatory curve of his lips. He pats his thigh again “Right here.”

You look down at his lap and then back up, your ears buzzing with the timbre of his voice. Logically, you know that what he’s just demanded is wildly inappropriate, yet the silken tone he said it in leaves you utterly agreeable. Slowly, you lower yourself into his lap, uncertain of why you wouldn’t abide by such a request.

“That’s my pretty girl,” he coos, bracketing your waist with his arms.

 ”That’s better, isn’t it?” He asks, his hands moving up and down your thighs. You shiver, a chill running down your spine despite the fervid heat of his body pressed along the back of yours.

A distant voice in the back of your mind whispers it wasn’t a dream, though you can barely hear it over the pounding of your own blood in your ears.

“Relax,” he murmurs, the word a warm huff on your neck. 

Like a marionette whose strings have been cut, your body goes slack against him. Your heart continues to race even as a wave of calm sweeps through you, the two sensations frantically battling one another. Eventually, however, your pulse succumbs to the warmth seeping from him, and you begin to calm, soothed by the slow sweeps of his palms and the way he’s muttering sweet nothings into your ear. 

“Good girl,” he breathes, the smile audible in his voice. “That’s it. Feels good, hmm?” His hands move more firmly on your thighs, closer to a massage.

You make a thin noise of pleasure, tipping your head back to rest on his shoulder.

“When I tell you… that I have been looking forward to this,” he murmurs, lips brushing your neck. 

“But I had to be sure you were the one. Most people start to go insane after the first night, maybe the second, but not you.” His teeth, sharp as razors, delicately graze your throat. “You’ve been… perfect.”

“What’re you talking about?” You ask, feeling slightly slow and disoriented.

Homelander chuckles, the rumble of it moving from his chest through your back. 

“My voice. It tears apart people's minds… But not yours. Why is that?” His lips are warm on your skin, trailing lower. He lifts a hand to pull your collar askew and kiss at the exposed crook of your neck.

“I don’t know,” you sigh, eyes flickering shut. His mouth feels incredible, the slight dampness that his lips leave behind making you especially sensitive to the air as he exposes you to it. It’s difficult to focus on anything other than the drag of his mouth. 

You don’t even realize he’s unbuttoned your shirt and slipped it off of your shoulders until he’s kissing that newly revealed skin, nipping playfully at your bra strap.

“Here I was thinking you were just a pretty, tasty little thing… Turns out you’re so much more,” he purrs between kisses. A jolt of pain makes you gasp and then whimper, the sting of it soothed by the way his tongue drags over the spot afterwards.

It takes you a beat to comprehend that he’s just bitten the junction between your neck and shoulder, sunk his sharp teeth in so deep you smell the faint tang of blood.

“Turns out you were meant for me all along,” he says between slow drags of his tongue, lapping at your soft skin. He moans for the taste of it. “Watching you writhe in your bed, wanting me, touching yourself while your useless husband slept. I thought I was the one going fucking insane.”

Comprehension is a slow, creeping thing to your addled mind.  “You were watching me. The dreams, you–”

“Whispered them into your ear while you slept,” he interjects, kissing at the shell of your ear. “You took to ‘em like gasoline takes to a spark,” he says, that voice of his wrapping around your body and limbs like a dozen slithery tendrils. 

The touch of his voice is just as tangible as his hands sliding up your thighs, your stomach, cupping your breasts through your bra. You let out a shuddering moan.

“Every night, I was so sure you’d break. But you didn’t. You won’t.”

His confession brings back images in a flood, untangling dreams from memories. You remember a silhouette standing over you, you remember piercing red eyes glowing in the dark, and you remember the filth he spoke over you that made your body twist and sweat and come harder than you ever have.

All of it intertwines with this very moment, with his hands on you, his body against yours. It has you moaning, writhing back against him the same way you did in your bed beneath his gaze.

“Call your husband,” he tells you, hand slipping between your legs, hooking under your skirt.

“What?” You rasp, clutching at his wrists. You shiver at the hot slide of his tongue just behind your ear.

“Call your husband,” he repeats, thick gloved finger rubbing sparks between your thighs. “Tell him you’re coming home early. Tell him to wait for you in the bedroom.” 

Leaning forward, Homelander snatches the left landline off the desk and pulls it into your lap, resting it atop his hand while he fingers you in slow, precise circles.

You pick up the receiver and dial unsteadily. It doesn’t sound like something you shouldn’t do. Even as it rings, you feel no dread or apprehension. Just the drive to obey the voice cradling your mind and body so very sweetly.

“Hi,” you exhale when he answers the phone, screwing your eyes shut. It takes everything in you just to focus on speaking. 

“Yeah, I’m okay. I’m coming–” your breath catches as Homelander pushes your panties aside and breaches you with a single finger, sliding into your soaked pussy in one slow, continuous slide. 

“I’m coming home early today,” you say, holding both the receiver and Homelander’s wrist in a white-knuckle grip. “Can you wait in the bedroom for me?”

He’s thoroughly confused, but all that does is frustrate you. His voice comes through ugly and nasally over the phone, grating through your nerves instantly. You feel the urge to yell at him, but the breath is stolen from your lungs by the sweet press of Homelander’s thick gloved finger crooking inside you, stroking exactly the right spot to make you see stars.

“Just–just do it, please? Wait in the bedroom, I’ll be–I’ll be home soon.”

You slam down the phone just in time, letting out a cry, lurching forward. The phone tumbles from your lap with a clatter and Homelander catches you with an arm across your chest, pinning you back against his chest.

“Good girl, that’s it. Give it up for me. Lemme feel that pretty pussy come,” he moans, grinding up against you, the sound of his finger pumping into you obscenely loud and wet. 

“C’mon, sweetheart. Whet my appetite. Gimme something before it’s time to fucking eat.”

You come loudly, clenching your legs tightly around his hand. He stops just to feel you tighten and convulse through his glove, his lips and teeth and tongue all wreaking havoc at your throat.

“Fuck,” he sighs, followed by the low rumble of a chuckle. Your thighs shake as he pulls his hand away. You can smell the heady smell of your own slick when he brings his finger to his mouth and sucks the taste of you from it, the sound lewd in your ear.

“You even taste pretty,” he hums, voice frayed like a growl. There’s an inhuman split to his voice, like there’s three of them layered over top of each other.

The whole world feels like it’s spinning. You have no center of gravity, just the sensation of movement as Homelander effortlessly maneuvers you up into his arms. Your head lolls against his chest, vision swimming.

Warm lips press sweetly to your forehead. “Rest up, pretty girl,” he murmurs. The words instantly make you drowsy. “I’ll wake you up when I’m done.”

The world slips into darkness. The last thing you’re aware of is the feeling of flying.

When you come back to consciousness, the darkness remains. You recognize your bedroom ceiling above you, familiar shadows dancing across it, beckoning you awake. 

A dream…?

Your limbs are leaden, weighed down to the bed. You try desperately to untangle the fantastical from what is real, walking backwards through what you remember. Touch, smell, sound, and pleasure unlike anything you’ve ever known. You remember Homelander’s hands on you, in you, his body and voice all around you, the sound of–

Sound. What is that sound? It’s close to you, but you can’t move your head to see. It’s a series of wet, soft squelching noises akin to someone manipulating piles of drenched laundry. Then you hear a crunch like a tree branch snapping, and you start to recognize another sound; panting breaths followed by an erotic moan of pure indulgence.

You open your mouth to speak, but your throat is too tight, and nothing escapes it. As you come back to yourself more and more, you realize the bed beneath you is warm and wet.

You manage to force a noise from the back of your throat, a strained sound born of the effort to move. Next to you, something shifts. 

“There’s my pretty girl,” coos Homelander’s familiar voice. Your heart crashes against your ribcage, the only part of you that can freely move expressing the shock of hearing his voice here in your bed.

“Shhhshhhh, no need for that,” he murmurs, moving into your line of sight, hovering over you. His face is spattered in something dark, but when he smiles his sharp teeth are white and bright, even in the dim moonlight of your bedroom. His voice soothes your frayed nerves almost instantly.

“Take a deep breath,” he says. You do so easily, as if you were never paralyzed. “Good. Perfect timing,” he tells you, his tongue sliding along his teeth, his lips, threads of saliva stretched between his teeth snapping. “I’m still plenty hungry for you.”

He kisses you, swinging his leg over to envelop your body with his. All at once you can move again, your bones no longer weighed down. You relax beneath the press of his lips and the weight of him, exhaling a breath through your nose. 

“Kiss me,” he mumbles fervently. You wrap your arms around his neck and kiss him with everything you have, your lips sliding slickly against one another. He licks the taste of copper into your mouth.

Blood, a distant part of you realizes. Whatever horror you should feel is replaced by building excitement, his touch reigniting heat throughout your body. Like gasoline takes to a spark.

His lips move to the corner of your mouth, your jaw, trailing bloodied kisses down your throat. He has less patience for your clothes now than he did in your office, tearing your shirt and bra from your body with a feral noise. His hands are upon you instantly, spreading the blood on his hands down your chest, massaging your breasts until he works a needy moan out of you.

“Can’t believe I almost ate you, too,” he says with a smile.  Before you can respond, he leans down to suck your nipple into his mouth, hands sliding lower. You gasp and push your hands into his hair, slicking it back with what sprayed into it. His mouth is inferno hot on your skin, goosebumps erupting over every inch of you. His tongue is a devilish thing, working your nipple in circles, but it’s the light pinch of his teeth that make your whole body lurch.

He makes quick work of your clothing from the waist down, too, stripping you until there’s nothing left between you and the blood soaked fabric of his suit. His hand disappears from you, and you hear a metallic click followed by the hiss of a zipper. He nudges your legs apart to settle properly between them, pulling off of your breast with a satisfied pop. He licks his lips of the blood he had spread to your breast, eyes wild and glowing faintly red.

“Let’s get rid of this while we’re at it,” he says, lifting your hand. He kisses the tip of your ring finger before taking it into his mouth, gaze flickering up to meet yours as he takes it all the way down past your knuckle, your ring disappearing past his lips. He catches the metal band with his teeth and drags it slowly off, sucking your finger clean of it. A chill runs down your spine at the crunch the metal gives as he effortlessly chews and swallows it.

You stare in numb, abject shock, but even that rapidly fades to the fires rolling through you. 

Hands on your thighs, he easily pulls your ass into his lap. You look down to see his cock freed from his suit pants, thick and nicely curved. He bends over you, hitching your legs up over his shoulder, and you feel the flat curve of the bottom of his cock press against your cunt. He grins down at you, rocking his hips to grind through the slick mess he’s made of you.

“Let’s see if you feel as good as you taste,” he says, claiming your lips once more. He pulls his hips back, and you feel the head of his cock drooling precome as it slides over your clit, down to your soaked cunt. The dull stretch of it splitting you open burns, has you keening against his lips. He kisses you again and again and again.

“That’s it, baby. Open up for me. Lemme feel that perfect pussy,” he grits out, voice frayed at the edges like he’s finally beginning to lose that cocky composure of his. Even still, his voice retains that otherworldly aspect to it. He bottoms out with a low moan, hips flush to your body.

“Oh fffffuck,” he groans, cock throbbing against the velvety walls of your cunt. You can feel the pulse of him, even more so when you squeeze. It gives you an unexpected and intoxicating shot of power when doing that makes him gasp. “Perfect. My perfect fuckin’ match, fuck. I knew you would be, I knew you were made for me,” he babbles, bordering on incoherence as he starts to thrust, gripping your ass with one hand while the other goes to the headboard, slamming it against the wall with each snap of his hips.

“H-Homelander,” you moan, tangling both hands in his hair, dragging your nails harshly down his scalp, the back of his neck, throwing your head back against your pillow. 

He gives your ass a sharp slap just to feel the way your cunt clenches with it, a growl rolling from his throat.

“Come with me,” he demands, instantly sending the pressure building in you into a soar. He moves faster, deeper, each slam punching out pitchy noises from you. Every drag of his cock feels like a spark inside you, like the strike of a match igniting stars in your peripheral vision. You come with a near scream, nails biting fruitlessly into Homelander’s skin. 

He rides your orgasm fiercely, fucking you into the bloody mess of your bed until he, too, succumbs to the clench of your cunt. He lets out a guttural cry, the wood of your headboard snapping in his grasp as his release floods you, so hot that it nearly burns.

You’re both panting into each other's mouths, lips occasionally brushing. There’s a possessive growl to the edge of Homelander’s breaths, as if warning anything that might hear of the danger of approaching.

“You’re mine now, you understand?” He says lowly, his velveteen voice hoarse, almost animalistic. “My match, my mate, mine.”

Deliriously, you nod, mind still lost to the aftershocks of your climax, your pussy quivering around the girth of his cock. It’s not enough for Homelander, who gives another sharp thrust, knocking an overstimulated moan out of you. “Do you understand?”

“I understand,” you gasp, meeting his gaze. His harsh expression softens at that, the crimson glow fading from his eyes, leaving only that familiar ocean blue in its wake. He kisses you leisurely, but with no less hunger. He lets your legs slip carefully from his shoulders, but remains buried deep inside you, staking his claim as thoroughly as possible. He kisses your neck, makes you wince when he sucks at the mark he bit into your skin.

“You got no idea how long I’ve been looking for you,” he mumbles, nuzzling into the crook of your neck. You stroke your fingers through his hair, soaking in the feeling of his superhuman body thrumming against yours. You tighten your grip in his hair and lift his head, bringing his gaze up to meet yours. He looks curiously at you until that curiosity flips to surprise as you kiss him, earning a pleased little hum from him. 

When you part, his surprise has melted away into something dazed and soft. Something like love, or maybe satiation. The two look so very similar.

Homelander kisses you a while longer before he nestles down against you.

Your head lolls to the side for the first time, and only then do you see the full scope of the horror resting next to you; bones jut out from the mess of viscera and meat, shredded clothing thick with blood and innards. It looks like the work of a rabid animal, something vicious and hungry.

You know instantly that the mess is all that remains of your former husband. 

It occurs to you that you should feel a dozen different awful things about the pile of gore splayed out on your bed, but ultimately, the only thought that lingers is how he finally suits that rotten meat smell.

Looking back to the ceiling, you continue to comb your fingers through Homelander’s hair. His weight is a comfortable thing upon you, and beneath the smell of gore, you’re soothed by the gentle, warm scent of vetiver. Your eyelids grow heavy, and within minutes, you drift to sleep.

When you wake, there is no tang of blood heavy in the air. You sit up in a bed that is both alien and familiar. It isn’t until you see the mirrors around you that you realize that this is the bed from your dreams.

You feel warm, despite the early morning chill beyond the blankets. You feel a tug, and as you look down, Homelander pulls you back down into his arms.

“Mornin’, pretty girl.”

“Morning,” you whisper, leaning in to kiss him. He hums pleasantly as you touch him, your hands roaming the naked scape of his body, testing that he’s real. You draw back, brows furrowed.

“Everything alright?” He asks, his voice as rich and creamy as ever.

“Yeah,” you say quietly, a touch uncertain. “Weird dreams.”

He smiles, bringing your hand up to kiss. “Well, you’re awake now.”

Somehow, you’re not so certain. 

Regardless, you huff a little laugh and snuggle back into his arms. 

“Love you,” you say, losing yourself to the familiar comfort of a partner in your arms, in your bed, in your heart. The longer you’re there, the more the dreams fade away, replaced with the reality of your waking world and the sweet smell of vetiver.

Homelander squeezes you to his chest, stroking idly up and down your back with his knuckles. You can hear the smile in his voice as he returns, “I love you, too.”

[ladylannisterxo]

Flannel and Lace

Pairings; Eddie Munson x fem!Reader

Words; 1.9k

Warnings; S M U T (18+ only), unprotected sex, fingering, oral sex (f!receiving), spanking, dirty talk, basically just porn without plot

Summary; Eddie comes home to find you wearing one of his flannel shirts, wearing only his flannel shirt.

A/N; Listen. I am obsessed with the photos going around of Joseph Quinn's costume tests but am also distraught that they put this man in a flannel and then didn't even use it! Now, I'm just absolutely feral over it - this is the end result! I am a sucker for a good flannel, especially on a very attractive man. This is just shameless smut, enjoy!

{ masterlist }

You were early; Eddie could hear you shuffling around in his room as soon as he waltzed in the front door. He had hoped he could have some time to get settled before you arrived but then again, it’s not as if he really minded, he had given you a key weeks ago for this very reason. Queen was playing, muffled behind the closed bedroom door and he smirks, knowing you’re in his room swaying your hips to the beat and pretending to be a rockstar when you think no one is looking.

He slips down the hallway quietly, sliding off his leather jacket and denim vest as he goes, hoping to catch you in the act of rocking out. He loved how you felt the music throughout your whole body, how free you always looked. But more importantly, he loved how absolutely adorable you got when you realize you’ve been caught; how your hands cover your face and you shy away from him in pure embarrassment. Because he’s the rockstar, not you. Or, at least, that’s what you always say when he catches you. Eddie desperately wants to bring you to a gig one of these days, see how you lose your inhibitions when he begins to play.

But, of course, this is not what he sees when he pushes open the door. His closet door is hanging wide open and you’re standing in the middle of the room with one of his red flannels draped over your body. And from his vantage point, this single red flannel is the only thing you’re wearing. He groans at the sight, how can he not, and you look over your shoulder with a soft smirk and a teasing glint in your eye.

“You never wear this,” you muse, turning around to fully face him.

Eddie grips the doorknob tighter for stability, licks his lips because fuck, he was somewhat right. That blessed red flannel falls across your frame like a waterfall, a little long in the sleeves but stopping just at the tops of your thighs. It’s also unbuttoned, completely, exposing your supple skin to his searching eyes. No bra, the garment just barely conceals you and to him, you might as well not even be wearing panties because the thin lace leaves nothing to the imagination. He can feel himself growing hard just looking at you and he shifts in place, a poor attempt in controlling his lust.

“It’s, uh, it’s too hot to wear,” he chokes out, brain scrambling to formulate coherent sentences.

That’s when you finally look at him, eyes sparkling in the midday sun and Eddie wants to melt into a puddle on the floor because if you looked at him just like this every single moment of every single day, he’s sure he’d die a happy man.

“But that leather jacket you don every day is breezy as can be,” you chuckle, eyebrow arching. “I don’t know, Eds, this feels nice to me. It’s real soft.”

“It looks good on you too,” he responds automatically.

“Yeah?” You sway from side to side, the flannel moving with you like a lover keeping you close.

“Sweetheart, all my clothes look good on you.” It’s honest and Eddie didn’t realize how true that statement actually was until you kept trying on his clothes. He’s wrapped you up in his leather jacket more times than he can count and don’t get him started on the things he wants to do to you when you wear his Hellfire Club shirt.

You smile, biting your lip softly. Then you’re crawling onto his bed, granting him a full view of your ass before placing yourself on your knees, hands resting against your thighs. Your hair is a disheveled mess and the flannel has fallen open a bit more, exposing a teasing amount of your tits to him. Eddie thinks you belong on the cover of a magazine or a poster he could tack onto his wall and jack off to when you’re not with him.

“Let me guess,” you say, pulling the garment off your shoulders, “you still think it would look better on the floor.”

Eddie finally kicks his ass into high gear, crossing the room to stand directly in front of you. His fingers tug at the flannel to bring it back up over your shoulders and then his lips are on yours, soft and gentle but insistent. His hands trail down to cup your breasts and you push up into him, wrapping your arms around his neck and deepening the kiss.

“Fuck, Eddie,” you gasp when he tweaks your nipples between his fingers.

“I like when you wear my clothes, sweetheart,” he mumbles against your skin, “makes me feel closer to you.”

“Sweet talker.”

“I’m serious,” he chuckles, “but you sitting here posed on my bed makes you look like something out of a magazine.”

“Oh yeah?” You ask, trailing your tongue along his jaw. “Like one of those dirty mags I found underneath your bed?”

“Well,” he begins, pulling back to meet your eyes, “you would make a great centerfold.”

Then he’s cupping your pussy in his hand and your breath stutters in your chest. He smirks before kissing you again, fingers working diligently against your clothed heat.

“Eddie, please, please,” you whine, fingers tightening in the fabric of his shirt.

His hands make their way to the backs of your thighs and he pulls, your legs coming out from under you as you drop unceremoniously onto your ass. He pulls on you again and you’re brought to the edge of the bed where he’s already waiting, down on his knees. Your heart flutters with anticipation.

Eddie’s breath is hot against your still clothed pussy and you shift your hips closer, silently begging for what you want most from him. His dark eyes flick up to meet yours as he teases a single finger across the lace. You let yourself drop to lay flat on your back with a sigh, deciding to let him do whatever the hell he wants to you.

“So wet,” he murmurs when he pushes your panties out of the way, “is this all for me?”

“Yes,” you sigh, “all for you, baby, I’ve been thinking about you all day.”

“Is that right?”

He doesn’t wait for an answer; he flattens his tongue against your cunt and licks a firm stripe from your entrance to your clit. You moan loudly, hands immediately flying to tangle in his hair. His tongue circles your clit before latching on to suck fervently against the bundle of nerves. You arch your back, fingers tightening, keeping him right fucking there. Two of his fingers slip inside of you without warning, setting a steady pace as he pulls every single sigh and moan he can from you.

“Oh fuck,” you whimper, his name falling from your lips like a prayer.

His mouth pulls off your clit with a resounding pop and then he’s moving up your body to capture your lips in a heated kiss, fingers still working inside you, bringing you closer and closer to your release. He rests his forehead against yours, eyes wide as he watches you come undone beneath him. Rolling your hips in a frenzied pace, you take his fingers deeper and deeper until your orgasm pitches through you like gasoline being poured over an already blazing fire. Eddie works you through it, he always does, and once your hips come to a stop and the spasms have subsided, he slips his fingers out of you and brings them to your awaiting mouth.

“That’s my good girl,” he muses when you wrap your lips around his fingers, “see how good you taste?”

You hum in agreement, swirling your tongue around his digits. He groans at the sensation before pulling his fingers from your mouth abruptly and bringing that same hand down to smack your ass sharply. You jolt, pushing your body further into him and he wraps his arms around you and rolls, bringing you up to straddle his hips.

“Think you can give me one more?” He asks, shifting his hips for you to feel his hard cock against your thigh.

You waste no time in helping rid him of his clothes. Your fingers start at the hem of his shirt, pulling it up and over his head before latching your lips onto his collarbone and licking and sucking your way down to your prize. When you reach the denim of his jeans, you slide off the bed long enough to unfasten them and pull them and his boxers down in one fluid motion. You straddle his waist again, rolling your hips across his cock. His hands find your hips, squeezing and kneading the flesh tightly in his fingers and you bring the flannel back down off your shoulders. Turns out Eddie was right, it does get a bit too hot.

Grasping his cock in hand, you line him up at your entrance and sink down onto him slowly, enjoying the ache of him stretching you out. Eddie groans at the feeling of you already clenching around him, his hands bunching the fabric of his flannel around your waist to grip your hips tighter, to help you move against him.

Your hands fall flat on his chest for stability, his tattoos peaking out at you from in between your fingers. Fuck going slow and steady, you set a rapid pace, bouncing on his cock with what could only be described as pent up aggression, taking him fast and hard and deep.

“Fuck, yes,” you mewl, throwing your head back with an elongated moan.

“That’s it, baby,” he praises, smacking your ass again. “Ride my cock until you cum.”

His thumb presses against your clit, rubbing firm and tight circles, taking you higher and higher. You can feel your orgasm building inside of you, coursing through your veins like a tidal wave. You bite your lip with a whimper, one hand smacking against the wall in front of you to find purchase. Eddie has leaned up to capture a nipple in his mouth, tongue swirling around the hardened peak, and the onslaught of these added sensations has your orgasm crashing over you.

Crying out Eddie’s name as pleasure overtakes you, he wraps one arm around you and flips you until you're flat on your back. He hikes your leg up on his hip and fucks you hard through your high, chasing his own release. Your nails rake down his chest, leaving wild and red scratches in their wake, as you roll your hips against him meeting him thrust for thrust for thrust.

“Eddie, please, cum inside me,” you whine, “I want to feel it.”

“Fuck,” he grunts and with two more hard thrusts, he’s exploding inside of you, warming you up from the inside.

Eddie pulls out of you gently and pulls your panties back in place, keeping all of him inside you. He kisses you then, all tongue and teeth, pulling you close, so close, you could meld into one single being. He interlocks his fingers with yours, lips pressing gentle kisses along your knuckles as you brush his hair away from his eyes.

“That was - shit, you really went for it,” he says after a moment, a teasing gleam in his eyes.

“I did say I’ve been thinking about you all day,” you remind him, “although I wasn’t expecting you to get this hot and bothered over me in your clothes.”

“Fuck, sweetheart, you could be completely naked or covered from head to toe and I’ll always get hot and bothered over you,” he says, capturing your lips in another kiss. “But I’m pretty sure this flannel is yours now.”

“Good,” you whisper, pecking his lips again, “I wasn’t going to give it back anyway.”

[b-o-e]

sleepy phone call Wally Darling x Reader

Warnings: fluff :))

although it is not necessary, I highly suggest reading my fics in their recommended order for the best experience! here is the link to all my silly lil wally fics in order. this is #6 :)

You find yourself unable to fall asleep, leading you to call Wally in the late hours of the night.

“Hello?”

Ah, jeez.

What had you been thinking?

You’d been staring up at your ceiling for who knows long. You’d been tossing and turning all night, unable to fall asleep, despite the exhaustion seeping through your body.

What made you think calling Wally would be a smart idea in your barely coherent state? Well, actually, it was probably just that. You incoherent state did.

“Hi,” you finally mustered out. You were already regretting your decisions. What if he’d been asleep? What if he had been peacefully reading a book in bed? Painting, for whatever reason?

“... Are you alright?” Wally’s voice returned, laced with concern. There was a bit of rustling. “It’s late,”

“I’m sorry,” you quickly apologized. You were debating hanging up there and then, but that would be even worse at this point, wouldn't it?

“I don’t mind in the slightest.”

Your heart swelled. He was always so sweet and considerate, wasn’t he? Always there when you needed him. You shouldn't have doubted that.

“... I couldn’t sleep,” you admitted, gnawing lightly on your bottom lip. 

“Ha ha, I think I know how that feels,”

You facepalmed. You’re an idiot, aren’t you? No, he had not been asleep.

Nonetheless, a giggle slipped past your lips, amused by your own silly mistake.

“I suppose I shouldn’t be one to speak, huh? That was insensitive,” you chuckled, “I’m sorry,”

“I don’t mind,” he told you. “I’m quite used to it. What keeps you up though, neighbour?”

What was keeping you awake? Really, you had no clue. Was it the fact that you couldn’t get him off your mind, to the point where you subconsciously thought ‘hey, calling Wally in the ungodly hours in the early morning is a good idea’?

You shifted your seated position, fiddling with the phone's cord as you pursed your lips in thought. Finally, you decided on an answer.

“I’m not entirely sure,” you sighed. “I just… maybe my brain is being too loud, tonight.” You claimed. It wasn't a lie, yet it saved you from telling the full, embarrassing truth.

“Is there something on your mind you’d like to speak about?” You heard a bit of light shuffling.

“I…” you paused, trying to find the words you wanted to say. “I’m not sure, honestly,” you grumbled. “I think… I think I just wanted to hear your voice,” you confessed to him, blunt and honest.

The call went silent. Anxiety bubbled in your stomach. Did that sound odd?

“Wally?” You forced a chuckle, wiping your sweaty palms on your sheets. When did it get so warm in your house? “Sorry, that was probably a strange thing to say, wasn’t it?” You apologized, grimacing a little.

“Not at all,” his response came swiftly, pausing before he continued. “I’m honoured to hear you say that, neighbour,”

“Okay,” you breathed, relieved you hadn’t creeped him out. You knew Wally wasn’t very judgemental, but you still worried sometimes with the things that slipped past your lips.

Silence fell between the two of you, leaving you to desperately wrack your brain to figure out the right words to say.

What was the point of being so uptight? You already let that last comment slide. You were getting too tired to care, anymore.

“Would you mind…” you began, taking a second to figure if you really wanted to say this.

“Would you mind, just… talking?” You requested shyly. 

“Hmm…” he hummed, “Would you like me to talk about anything in particular?”

“Anything,” you shook your head, despite the fact he wouldn't be able to see it.

“Anything…” Wally parroted, going quiet for a while. Your eyes fell shut, your body further into your mattress. Even with him on the phone now, you were feeling less restless than you had been beforehand. His company was comforting, even over a silly call.

“Can I… confess, something to you, neighbour?” Wally’s sweet voice returned to your ears. 

“Of course you can, Wally. I’m always here for you if you need me,” you mumbled.

“... Do you promise?” His tone almost seemed to be one of slight insecurity, an unusual sound for him. Your eyes reopened, staring back up at your ceiling. This seemed like something that could be important to him, and you wanted to ensure he had your full attention.

“Cross my heart, always and forever…” the words fell off your tongue with ease, repeating a vow he told to you some weeks prior. A promise you were more than willing to keep in return.

“Well,” Wally began, “I have… a secret. One that I’ve been keeping from you, that’s about you. One that I've found to cause me some distress,” 

About you? Now, that was a bit worrisome. 

“I hope I haven’t done anything wrong to harm you,” you stressed. That was the last thing you wanted.

“No, no, you’ve done nothing wrong at all,”

“Thank goodness, I was terrified,” you breathed a chuckle, your worry levels lowering. The feeling was still there, as you remained unsure of what the cause of Wally’s distress truly was.

“Sorry, neighbour… I’m struggling to find the right words to say it to you,” he admitted, sounding slightly defeated.

“Take your time, Wally. There’s no rush. I’ll be ready when you are,” you tried to put his mind at ease.

You could hear him inhale deep and slow, holding it for a few moments, before letting it back out. He spoke gently.

“Your eyes,”

He paused for only a second, releasing a sigh.

“They rob the words off of my tongue.” 

Your breath hitched in your throat, eyes widening in surprise.

“My heart,” he went on, “it sings with euphoria every second you are near,”

There was no way this was happening.

“Ha ha… we may as well call it yours, with how full of you it is,”

Said heart pounded in your chest so loud, you could hear it in your head. 

“It’s no secret how I enjoy indulging in art quite frequently,” He continued.

“And yet, you manage to be the most extravagant masterpiece I’ve come across,” His voice was at a new level of gentleness than you’ve ever heard before. It was filled with nothing but open honesty, although you felt like there was something else laced in with it.

“You’re unfathomably endearing, and I crave more of you every time we part. That night we spent time together under the stars?” He ended with a questioning lilt, causing you to reflect back on that evening.

“There were so many things I wanted to say to you then. I wanted to tell you that if you asked me to, I’d figure out a way to give you the moon. That, despite the sky full of them, you shine brighter than any star up there in my eyes,” 

You didn’t know what to say. Truth be told, you were simply just… speechless.

“And after all this time, I’m still dancing around the point that I’m trying to get across, ha ha,” 

“The truth is, my darling…”

Your mind is playing tricks on you, if you heard what you were expecting next.

“... I’m in lo–”

You slammed the phone down on its base.

This was not happening.

Were you dreaming? 

Have you been asleep this whole time, stuck in an extremely realistic dream?

The pain in your arm when you pinched it tightly answered that question for you…

You stared into the darkness of your house, wide eyed.

Was he really about to say what you thought he was?

“Of course he was!” You answered that question aloud, slapping your hands to your face.

And you just hung up on him!

You froze.

You hung up on him.

…

You scrambled out of bed.

You tripped over your twisted blankets in the process.

Go, go, go! Your mind screamed at you.

You didn’t care to put on any shoes. It was the least of your concerns right now. You yanked your front door open, darting out of it, and making a mad dash to Home.

Your feet padded against the ground below them, your legs moving faster than you thought they even could. Your adrenaline was spiking through the roof!

What if it was too late now? What if you ruined your chances, forever?

Your brain nagged at you. What if this? What if that?

When you came into Home’s view, it didn't even see you as you approached, attention focussed elsewhere. Once it did take notice of you, its door swung open for you, swaying slightly as if to usher you in. That's exactly what you did. 

Your eyes, blurred with stressed tears, scanned the room around you. Drifting to the table where Wally's phone typically sat, you found it to be missing. You followed the line that connected to the wall, ending at the landline, sat right next to the man you were looking for. 

His head lifted from his knees, attention captured by the sound of your hurried breaths as your body tried to compose itself. 

His widened in shock eyes met yours, teardrops rolling down his cheeks as they did on yours. No matter, a smile still remained on his features, despite being the most pathetic you’ve ever seen. You stared at each other for a moment, until you swallowed down the lump in your throat.

“Say it to my face,” you panted out.

You walked closer, kneeling before him, your hands cupping his cheeks. His own came up, wrapping gently around your wrists.

“Please,” you begged softly, voice cracking with desperation, choked up. “Please, Wally, say it to my face,”

His gaze softened, never breaking from yours. He opened his mouth, hesitating.

“I’m in love with you,” he whispered.

And that’s all you needed to hear.

You closed the gap between you, kissing him, his grip on your wrists tightening. 

“Again?” You murmured softly as you pulled away, looking into his awestruck eyes. He took a moment to process what had happened, before he responded.

“... I’m in love with you,” 

Your lips pressed to his in another gentle kiss, Wally having the mind to return it, more prepared this time. When you pulled away, the corners of his smile quirked upwards.

“Ha ha, again?” He was the one to request this time, leaning his forehead against yours. “I'm in love with you,” he repeated, hopeful of receiving another kiss. You gave a choked giggle, giving him what he desired. You pecked his lips, his cheeks, and then his forehead.

“I’m in love with you too, Darling.” 

imagine getting deceived twice in a row AHAHAAH, I had to make you think it would be more angst so you wouldn't expect this ending like so many of you did, bwahahah! yes, you get a happy ending! yippe! however, this still isn't the end, and there is more to come!

but! feelings are out there! feelings are reciprocated! yippee! I hope you enjoyed this part, maybe just a smidge more than the last, haha!

here is a link to my silly lil wally fics in their recommended order if you would like :) these can also be found on my ao3 B) I also have a ko-fi if you'd like to support me!

alas!! 'tis all for now! next will likely be out in two days! like and reblogs are extremely appreciated, gimme dopamine rahhhh!!! until next time! MWAH! <3

Posted Sunday, May 6, 2023, at 11:37 AM

[be-missed]

Not An Eye Test (MDNI)

Jenna Ortega X Fem!Reader

A/N: this thought keeps on bugging me, first time writing smut (if you squint) so bear with me. Just a short one.

Warning: smut(somehow). Minors dni.

Masterlist

"How many fingers are there baby?" Y/N whispered in Jenna's right ear.

"Babe... I don’t know" Jenna answered while breathing heavily, trying to control her voice.

"Come on, I know you can do it, you're my smart girl aren’t you?" Y/N teased and continued to leave wet trail of kisses in Jenna's neck "Do you need some help baby?" Y/N then asked again staring directly into Jenna's beautiful face.

Jenna nods, trying to form coherent words and ended up saying "Yes, please... please baby."

Y/N then moved her fingers, "How many fingers are there Babe?" And smirked with how Jenna is squirming.

"Baby please... not an eye test... just move" Jenna said pleading, not knowing how can she answer her girlfriend.

"Nuh uh, my fingers will stay as they are unless you tell me how many they are." Y/N said and adjusted Jenna's thighs. "Let me help you again" and with that, Y/N straighten and curled her pointer finger "Count." Y/N demanded.

"Mhmm... one" Jenna squirmed from her position and grip the sheets.

"Good girl" Y/N praises her and then curls then straighten her middle finger again, "Now, how many fingers are there pretty girl?" Y/N asked and showered Jenna's face with kisses.

"Two baby, please" Jenna answered and trying to roll her hips.

"Such a smart girl" Y/N then planted a hard kiss in Jenna's lips and started to move her fingers inside of Jenna, massaging her velvet walls and trying to hit her spot.

With the action that Y/N made, Jenna tries to roll her hips accompanying the pace of her girlfriend's fingers that is inside her.

"Faster baby..." Jenna said while her grip wet from the sheets to Y/N's biceps.

"I think we can add more finger, yeah?" Y/N challenged Jenna "Come on, I know my smart girl can add."

Jenna is not on her right mind right now, brought by the pleasure that Y/N is giving her so she just nodded and plead.

"Such a good girl for me, aren't you." Y/N said while inserting another finger in Jenna. That was an easy task, knowing the fact that Jenna was dripping made her finger slide easily.

Jenna released a throaty moan and a bit of a yelp, this is the first time that she got three fingers inside of her.

"Shhh, breathe my love, it's gonna be okay." Y/N shushed her and palmed Jenna's clit and kissed her sloppily.

Jenna's wall are clamping and it's getting tight, Y/N thought as she tries to fasten her pace.

"Please, baby... please" Jenna lets out a moan with a plead. Inside her head, she just kept on repeating the word "Please" not knowing what she is pleading for. She feels so high and so good that she will do anything just for her to cum.

"How many fingers are there then Jen?" Y/N then repeats her first question "Come on, give me the right answer and I'll let my pretty girl cum."

Y/N increased her pace and started to deliver wet kissed onto Jenna's chest and sucking the side of her breast that results to a loud moan coming from Jenna. Such acts keeps Jenna's head from answering Y/N which is not helping since she really wants to cum.

"My smart girl, come on, it's an easy question." Y/N mocked Jenna and sucked her nipples, that earned her an extra gush of wetness and a whimper from Jenna.

Jenna can't handle it anymore, she wants a release from this tension, she feels like a volcano that is ready to blow up magma. She's so hot and so ready.

"FUCK... 3 baby ngh, 3." Jenna blurted out trying to wait for Y/N's permission for her to cum.

"Very good baby, such a clever girl" Y/N answered and moved further down, kissing Jenna's stomach, her hip bones, and her navel. As she reach Jenna's soaking area, she deposits kitten licks into Jenna's clit that made Jenna moans her name.

Y/N then continued to suck at lick Jenna's clit until she's satisfied and said "Cum now my darling."

And with that, Jenna's hand went into Y/N's head to press it harder and released a loud moan and screamed Y/N's name.

A wet patch can be seen under Jenna that made Y/N proud. She made Jenna cum so hard.

Y/N then helped Jenna went down from her high, depositing soft kisses onto Jenna's thighs and whispering praises.

------------------------------------------------------------------

A/N: Hoped you liked it and enjoyed it. If there are any constructive criticism towards this story, I would love to hear it since this is the first time I wrote a smut. Thank you.