#i feel like my brain is doing summersaults

[thegnomelord]

Imagine Price With a Virgin Reader

CW: NSFW Dom Bottom Price, Sub Top M!Reader, dom/sub, light humiliation, MReader

My brain continues to be weird before exams, soooo I did a thing. Calling it Gnome's Imagines. I think I kinda turned Price a bit southern :Dd Asks/reqs are always welcome.

Imagine you're in Price's office doing paperwork as punishment for backtalking a superior officer in the field. Fatigue wears down the chains on your tongue so you start bad-mouthing the SO under your breath, harsh words tumbling from your lips until Price grips your chin and tilts your head towards him. "That's enough out of you." Price shuts you up with a quick kiss to your lips, his beard tickling your skin.

He doesn't think anything about it until he pulls back and sees your wide open eyes. When you lean back to trace your lips with your fingers and mutter "Huh, so that's what that feels like" he grows even more confused. He's old enough to have some notches on his belt, so your reaction throws him for a loop.

"What? Are you a nun or som'thin' bumkin?" He teases, because frankly he can't understand how someone like you hadn't ever kissed anyone when you have all the qualities he finds desirable.

But he stands corrected when you look away with your ears burning and give some offhand comment about waiting for the right person. "I don't whore myself out." You say to hide the embarrassment of being called out like that, hoping to hide behind your words.

"Oooh bumkin," He chuckles and grips your chin again, tilting your head to keep your attention squarely on him. "Does that mean you think I'm right for you?" He asks, stroking along your jaw and loving the way you relax into his hand.

When you shrug in leu of answering it proves him correct, his heart fluttering in his chest and pants feeling too tight around his cock. "Tell you what sugar," He chuckles when you attempt to hide the way you perk up when he speaks. "How about I teach you some new tricks hmm?" Hot arousal burns in his gut and floods his system at the thought of introducing you to sex, of ruining any future partners for you, of ruining you.

A small pathetic sound makes its way out of your throat before you can catch it, but you're quick to hide it, subtly nodding your head.

"Need you to use your words there," Price orders, keeping a firm grip on your chin to keep your focus on him (as if you'd look anywhere else).

You grip his shirt, "Just kiss me already." You grumble and are immediately rewarded with his hot lips against yours. Your inexperience shows as you kiss him back sloppily, unsure how to move your lips or tilt your head so you end up bonking your foreheads, your teeth messily nipping his lip and drawing blood as you try to all but swallow the breath in his lungs.

"Oi," Price growls against your mouth as he holds your head firmly. He licks his bleeding lip, but he's the furthest from mad right now. "Just follow my lead. You're good at that." He waits until you answer with a verbal "yes", then he's mushing his lips against yours. He holds your head still, guides you how to kiss him properly, his tongue lapping at your clenched teeth until you give him access to your mouth.

Your captain tastes like tobacco and whiskey and the several cups of black coffee he'd drank and something that's just him, the taste making you feel high while his tongue licks around your mouth and urges you to do the same so he can suck on your tongue.

"How's that sweetheart?" He asks when he pulls away and keeps you from following after his lips, leaving you breathless and panting. "Eager for more?" Price teases. "Come on, use your big boy words."

It takes you a few seconds to find your voice, several more to admit what you want— him. In whatever way he'll give it.

A devious smirk tugs on Price's lips. "Bumkin, your wish is my command." Next thing you know your world is doing summersaults as he stands and hoists you on his shoulder like you're a sack of potatoes. When the sudden motion makes you yelp and struggle you're rewarded with a sharp slap on your arse, "Keep still." His hand stays on your arse to keep you steady on his shoulder while he moves quickly to his room attached to his office.

"Don't throw your back out old man." You say, hoping to disguise the embarrassment burning in your gut with snark.

"Watch it, it's your back you should be worrying about." He chuckles, gropes your arse for good measure. "This old geezer can keep up with you just fine, sugar."

Though he picked you up roughly, he sets you down on his bed like you're made of glass.

With a hand on the back of your neck he guides you into a second kiss, a pleased rumble in his throat when you adapt quickly, eagerly kissing him back just like he did you. You part just enough to take off your clothes, Price taking your wrists to place your hands on his hairy chest.

"Go on, bumkin, ain't goin' to bite you...yet." He purrs and you take it in stride, roaming your hands all over him. He rewards you for exploring his body; Gives you a quick peck when you find a new sensitive spot, scratches down your chest each time you squeeze his plush side or thigh, and leaning your head down to latch on and suck his nipples earns you a very firm grope on your cock and a pleased sigh.

Growing bold you catch his eyes and then bite down on the bud between your teeth. He jolts and yanks your head up, his own teeth bite a big bruise into your throat. "Don't push it you brat." He murmurs against your skin, trailing kisses and bites down your front until your torso is black and blue with his marks, his claim.

His nose nuzzles into your groin as he settles between your legs, thick hands squeezing your hips while he mouths at your cock with his little pink tongue lolling out to lick at your cum hole. His beard tickles your skin when he takes you into his mouth, suckling on your head and looking at you with hooded eyes.

You can't control the sounds which escape your throat, your thighs shaking and head rolling back from the sudden assault of sensations on your nerves. It feels so much better than your own fist, your balls already churning with how hot and tight his mouth is.

Then the bliss around your cock stops.

Your neck almost snaps from how quickly you turn to look at him, and he's looking up at you with a smug smirk. "That's right, keep your eyes on me." Price smiles and rewards your focus on him by taking you down his throat, hollowing his cheeks and relaxing his jaw so your cock can slide past his tonsils in one fluid move.

With your focus on him you can't hide your reactions and his lips quirk up in a smirk even when they're stretched wide around the base of your cock, enjoying the faces you make with your head full of bliss as much as he finds himself loving the weight of your shaft on his tongue and the taste of your pre dripping straight down his throat.

Gripping you by the wrist again Price moves your hand on his head, a pleased hum vibrating from his chest to your cock when you take the offering and tangle your fingers in his hair. Focusing on his breathing he lets you rock your hips and rut your cock into his face like a bull in heat, rolling your balls in his hand.

Your orgasm sneaks up on you so embarrassingly fast you don't even have the sense in mind to warn him before you're cuming down his throat. He swallows it all down with his throat bulging and keeps you balls deep in his mouth until you've grown soft. Only then does he pull off and licks the residual cum from your head so he can see you shiver with the overstimulation.

"That was fast." He mocks you with a teasing lilt in his voice, "Still want to make comments about my age?" Price asks, voice somewhere between mocking and amused.

"At least I can go again quickly." You know you're playing a dangerous game but you can't help but say it. "Bet you need to take a nap after cuming once."

His eyes narrow, pupils blown so wide they swallow the blue in his eyes. "Oh, is that so?" He grips your soft cock, tearing a hiss out of you when he begins stroking you. "Let's see about that, hmm?"

He sits on your thighs, keeps you pinned down beneath his bulk with his hard rock cock next to your rapidly hardening one as he grabs the lube. Slapping away your hands when you try to touch him he braces against your chest and quickly preps himself, almost silent groans leaving him save for when he tells you to "Fuckin' wait.".

When he's done he pours lube on your almost fully hard cock, ignoring how the cold lube makes not-quite-pain race up your spine. You watch him grip the head of your cock and line it up with his puckered hole. "Wait, shouldn't I be on top? Since, you know-"

"Oh no sugar, you're not there yet." He laughs, holding your hips firmly in place before he sinks down onto you, relishing the burn as his hole greedily swallows inch after inch of your hard flesh. "When you can last more than a few minutes I'll let you fuck me good 'n proper." He braces both hands on your chest, looming over you as every pound of muscle and fat keeps you pinned to the bed. "'Till then, be good and just sit back, be useful for some'tin' other than running your mouth."

"You're a bastard." You manage to say before the tight heat around your cock steals your ability to think.

Price can't explain how fucking powerful he feels when just a simple shift of his hips makes whimpers and moans slip past your lips; can't explain how his heart flutters when just bottoming out and clenching around you makes you shudder and groan. He lets you grip his hips and grind into him, his powerful arse and thighs clapping against your legs each time he bounces on top of you with your shaft spreading him wide.

You don't even notice your second orgasm approaching until you're cuming inside him with a small whimper, flooding his insides with your seed.

Price just laughs as he feels you soften inside him, nowhere near close to his own release. "I'll take that one as a compliment bumkin." He snorts.

But he doesn't stop.

"What's the matter, didn't forget 'bout me, did you?" He grins and rolls his hips down, his weight pinning down your wriggling body until the sweet heat and strong clenching of his hole has your cock hardening right up despite the pain of overstimulation. "You know, it's bad form to leave your partner high and dry." He tuts, like some teacher, a sadistic glint in his eyes.

The mixture of cum and lube eases the way for your cock so he can teach you how to find his prostate, making you shift your hips every time you bottom out until you can tell the difference between his prostate and his gummy walls with the tip of your cock alone. "There you go, good," He groans—first real sound of pleasure he's made all night— then raises his hips so only your head remains inside him. "Now do that again." He grins, his cock only now beginning to leak.

He pulls three more orgasms out of you by the time he's close to the edge, your poor cock so overstimulated and balls so empty you'd be begging him to stop if you still had your voice. His belly bulges from the amount of cum in his bowels, a puddle of his own seed collecting on your stomach. Finally he cums with one final bash of your cockhead against his prostate, kissing you passionately as he paints your stomach white and slumps against your body.

He pats your chest like you're a work horse, his heart beating just as quickly as your own. "You did good," He whispers with a hoarse voice, leaning down to kiss your sweaty brow. Your eyes droop with exhaustion encroaching now that he's satisfied.

Then he grinds his hips into yours, a devious smirk on his face. "Oh, bumkin, I'm not done with you."

[sweetenerobert]

begin again

1.3k | joel miller x plus size gender neutral reader

summary: you haven’t gone out on a date ever since you broke up with your toxic ex boyfriend — a year ago, a new opportunity rises when you meet joel miller.

warnings: toxic relationship (guiltrip, body shaming, gaslighting), self-conscious reader, awkward!joel, mention of an age gap (it's your choice, but reader is of age) teeth rotting fluff, first date in a cafe

a/n: doing this for @beskarandblasters for their Taylor Swift Drabble Challenge ;), i’m happy to participate!, if you would like to participate, read this post

a/n 2: as a plus size author myself, i wanted to try something different (keep out for more plus size reader in the mere future, but i still write male reader with no descriptions to let your imaginations go wild <333.

I loved how CUUUUUTE this idea is, i might write a longer version of this ;p also reminder, i went overboard with the word count :0

dividers by @saradika-graphics

“You’re seriously gonna wear that?” Trevor said.

Glancing down at your stomach and then back at your boyfriend, you were confused about what Trevor meant. “What do you mean?” Shrugging your shoulders.

“That,” Trevor pointed at you, and you were still baffled at what he was pointing at. “Your hoodie.”

Your eyes trailing back down to your comfort hoodie. You’ve had it ever since the start of your senior year of high school into now being a twenty-one-year-old college student. It had some tiny holes, but you didn't care; you loved the material, the color, and how it made you feel comfortable.

“Well, yeah.” You shrugged.

Trevor sat up from lying on his bed and walked towards you, a look of disgust on his face. But you couldn’t tell what that look on his face was. He was always good at hiding it.

“Babe, you know I love that hoodie,” Trevor started blatantly lying to your face. “But I want you to make a good impression on my friends, so do you think you could wear something different?”

That indescribable feeling in your stomach rose to your throat, feeling as if someone were choking you. The stale taste of bile stayed in your throat as your stomach felt like it was doing summersaults. You disregarded it to be nerves about meeting Trevor’s friends.

In the back of your brain, you knew that meeting them would’ve been a piece of cake if the front of your brain made you constantly nervous. Trevor knew they liked you, but he made you think they didn't. To make you feel small.

“But I have nothing else to wear that makes me comfortable.”

Trevor holds both his pointer fingers to signal you to wait with a smirk on his face, walking towards his closet quickly. Pulling out a trendy denim jacket he owned, you liked it, but it wasn't your style — or size.

“This,” Trevor smiled.

“But, it doesn't fit. I can barely get one button to close, and it's going to be cold tonight,” You complained.

Trevor groaned where chills ran down your spine; it made you not want to say another word. “C’mon baby, we don't want to be late, just put on the fucking jacket so we can hurry up.”

The attitude sent your way wasn't new, but you always felt like it was your fault, and this felt like your fault. He was trying to make you feel good; who’s to say he’s wrong?

“I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay; I didn't mean to get loud.”

That same meaningless apology you’ve heard before that always managed to calm you down. You zip down your hoodie, throwing it on Trevor’s bed, landing on the end of the bed frame, the hood between the mattress and the wooden frame. Taking the jacket and slipping your arms into it made you feel uncomfortable with how tight the denim felt against your back. You felt your shirt picked up — exposing your skin and making goosebumps occupy that area.

Looking at the mirror, you hated what you saw, but the smile on Trevor’s made you feel slightly better.

“I hate this,” You frowned.

“You look great,” Trever emphasized, draping his arm around your neck enthusiastically, which made you feel better. Right?

“Well, you finally look like you actually like my friends.”

“But, I’ve always liked your—”

“Okay, let's get going, baby.” Trevor kissed your cheek and left you alone in his room. The mirror catches your vulnerability in ways you couldn't see, and it makes you feel uneasy; it was bothering you that you couldn't figure out that word.

Disgust.

Disgust was the word that Trevor made you feel.

Judging you, making you feel like you're losing your mind, making you feel like you weren't enough. Disgust.

You were quickly slapping your face to erase any trace of Trevor. You stood outside the coffee shop where you agreed to meet up with the guy you matched up with on Bumble, Joel Miller.

It had been six months before you had gone back on dating apps, grieving the loss of your relationship in the past. Joel was one of the first few people you matched with. He was older, but he could hold down a conversation, making you feel like you could talk to him for hours. He was okay with meeting up with you, but he wanted to ensure you were comfortable with the timing; he was okay with waiting.

It had been five months until you agreed to see him; nervous to the brim, you didn't know what to wear; spending countless minutes in your underwear, you quickly put together an outfit and grabbed a hoodie.

When you first walked in and Joel noticed you, his smile beamed at you, making butterflies appear in your stomach. He had wired headphones in his ear as he stood up quickly, shoving them in his jacket. Wrapping his arms around you in a hug, he made you feel protected in his arms; he smelt of old spice and mint, and in your mind, it was adorable that you chuckled in your head.

As Joel backed up from the hug, he smiled at you again. “Hi.”

“Hi,” You smiled back. “Did I keep you waiting?”

“Uh, no. Not really, just listenin’ to the playlist you made me.”

“Oh god,” you buried your head in your hand. “You still listen to that?”

“Of course, it's the thing that helps me get out of bed.”

You chuckle and can't help but smile from ear to ear as Joel smiles at you lovingly. “Well, if you ever get bored with that one, I would gladly make you another one.”

Joel chuckles through his smile; he quickly rubs the back of his neck, looking back towards his seat. “Uh, do you wanna sit down?”

“I would love that.”

Joel directs you to your seat; you cannot help but feel heat rise to your face; as you sit in your chair, Joel sits in front of you. As you wiped your hands on your hoodie, you looked up at Joel; you noticed him resting his head on his fist, looking at you. That feeling of Joel critiquing little things about you rose back to when Trevor would do it.

“Trevor isn’t here; you're fine,” You thought.

“Is there something on my face?” Your quick to cover your mouth with your hand.

Joel shakes his head and smiles at you. “Just admirin’ you, you're s’ perfect.”

The heat in your face was reaching a dangerous level, where you could feel your face explode. “Stop, you're pulling my tail.”

“I’m serious, your amazin’.”

You can't help but look down at the table in despair as you rarely received compliments from Trevor; it's hard to believe what Joel was saying to be the truth. “M’sorry, did I make you uncomfortable?”

“No!” You shake your head. Taking a deep breath, you place your hands on the table. “It's just I’ve never received compliments, and it's only when my ex would make me forget how much of an ass he is.”

That padding of Joel’s palm rested against your knuckles; you look at your hands together, and you look at Joel’s welcoming smile. “I promise, whenever I compliment you, it's comin’ from the depths of my soul, sweetheart.”

The warmth of Joel’s hand made you feel comfortable, a feeling you craved with— nobody. You felt good in this moment. “Now, how about I get you a cup of coffee? I promise it's the best.”

You chuckle. “Come on, I had to meet you here; let me buy it.”

As Joel gets up, he slides his hands down in an ‘X’ motion. “Nope, as the gentleman my momma raised me, it’ll be my pleasure.”

“Okay, but the next time we go out on a date, I’m buying.”

“I’ll hold you to it, sweetheart.” Joel walks away, and you can't help but smile at him as he walks away.

[thefairywithboots]

3 and 5.

My sordid brain is doing summersaults.

Also love u 😝

Ahhh these are perfect because this fits perfectly with the fic I've been wanting to write inspired by this:

This just pushed me to actually write it.

Smut Prompt #3: "I want to taste you so badly."

Smut Prompt #5: "Oh I can do this all night long."

Daddy, I Just Can't Wait (Robert Plant x Fem!OC) (Smut/NSFW 18+)

Summary: Takes place in 1969. Our unnamed OC watches Robert perform Bring It On Home, and gets extremely horny seeing how he works his harmonica. He alleviates the tension backstage after the show.

Warnings: Smut, oral sex, semi-public sex, and there's also a daddy kink. Minors please DNI.

I have not slept. It is after 5 AM here, and I am sleep-deprived, so I apologize for any mistakes made. I spent longer on this fic than I care to admit, so I hope you enjoy it.

I tag @bijouxcarys @m-faithfull @hammill-goes-fogwalking @ourshadowstallerthanoursoul @strsmn @jimmysdragonsuit13 @callmethehunter Let me know if you want to be tagged for future fics.

She stood at the side of the stage, watching the band perform, feeling as if the music were intoxicating her. Her eyes were on the golden haired man she called her lover as he writhed and thrust his hips in time to the music as if he were fucking it the same way he had fucked her.

She was transfixed by him, as she usually was, feeling a mixture of pride and lust as he wailed the final notes of the song. He would occasionally glance over to the side of the stage, and she would feel her stomach clench in anticipation. She would avert her attention to one of the other band members as if to try and make him believe that he did not have an effect on her at that moment. Which was a lie.

And he knew it.

The roar of applause echoed throughout the stadium as the song finished, and the audience began clapping in time with each other as Jimmy began the riff of "Bring It On Home." Robert had his harmonica out now, and the familiar wailing sound made her stomach clench. This time, she couldn't bring herself to focus on anyone except for him.

She had a clear view of his mouth wrapping around the harmonica as he had his eyes squeezed shut, focused deep on his playing. She bit her lip, trying but failing miserably to push away the thoughts of his mouth on her as she attempted to focus on the music.

As if that would do anything to extinguish the fire within her.

Robert's voice was low and husky as he sang the first verse, and she felt as if the sound of it weaved itself through her very being. "Baby... Baby... I'm gonna bring it on home to you..."

He opened his eyes, and she felt his gaze on her. Whatever resolve she might have had crumbled as she felt her arousal grow within the pit of her stomach. His gaze never left her as he continued to sing, as if he were serenading her.

"I've got my ticket, I've got that load... gone up, gone higher, all aboard..." His voice was sensual, and he knew it very well. She almost felt as if she were being hypnotized. "I'ma take my seat, right way back... Oh yeah, I watch this train roll down the track..." He closed his eyes again as he continued singing. "Bring it on home to you... Watch out! Watch out that move!"

He continued to wail away on his harmonica, and she had to steady herself against a piece of equipment as his eyes met with hers this time. Her face was possibly the same shade of red as her hair now, and she could feel her walls clench as visions of how he would look between her thighs flooded her mind.

The band was in full swing now, and she felt herself jolt at the sudden transition. Robert flipped his hair back, shaking his blond curls as they cascaded down his back. He flashed a smile towards Jimmy as his playing became more aggressive.

She tried averting her attention away from him as he sang, but it was a futile attempt, as it felt like an unseen force was drawing her gaze back to him as he strutted across the stage to serenade the rest of the audience.

The atmosphere was sensual, and she wondered if only she was feeling this way. Of course, I'm not, she thought to herself as she glanced at the gaggle of girls gathered by the side of the stage as they stared longingly at Robert. Robert has this effect on everyone; he is a sex god.

But she wondered if any of the other girls had the same feeling she had. She could feel her knickers dampen and her heart rate quicken as thoughts of what he might do to her later filled her mind. She felt as if he were already making love to her from so many feet apart.

"Went a little walk downtown... Messed and got back late... Found a note there waiting... It said, 'Daddy, I just can't wait...'"

She felt herself flinch forward at that line, and she clutched onto the wall to steady herself. Her lips parted as her breathing became heavier. Am I seriously about to come undone right here in front of everyone? Get a hold of yourself.

She straightened herself up, trying to focus on the other instruments of the song, but they did nothing to help her arousal for the Golden God on the mic; in fact, the entire arrangement seemed to only push her closer to the edge. As if Led Zeppelin's entire being was musical sex...

She managed to get through the rest of the concert without reaching into her knickers and masturbating right out in the open; she had never been this aroused in public before. Robert came backstage, laughing with Bonzo about something. She could not tell if she felt relief or anticipation when she saw him. She felt a tinge of annoyance when a gaggle of groupies surrounded him, all vying for his attention. His blue eyes scanned the crowd, and he smiled when he made eye contact with her.

He pushed his way through the sea of girls, barely acknowledging them as he made his way towards her. She held her hand out to him, which he took and pressed his lips to. Her heart beat quicker in her chest as he brought her to a more secluded section, pulling her against him as he leaned down, his lips found hers in a searing kiss.

She moaned into his mouth as she kissed him back passionately. She could already feel him half-hard against her stomach, and the fire she felt while standing at the side of the stage watching him play his harmonica was already building back up inside her.

"You were so good," she gasped against his lips. She reached up to run her fingers through his hair, stroking his sideburns as he smiled against her lips.

"Mmm... I'm glad you thought so, doll..."

She clutched onto his waist. She was short enough as it was, but the fact that he was such a behemoth of a man made her have to stand on her toes to press her hips against him. He groaned, and his back hit the wall. His hand reached up to stroke the back of her head gently as he ran his fingers through her auburn hair. Her breath hitched as she felt herself melt into him.

"I was thinking... when you were doing your harmonica solo..." She felt her face burn as she felt his gaze on her.

A hint of a crooked smirk appeared across his gorgeous face. "Thinking what?"

Her face burned brighter. "W-well... the way you were moving your lips across it..."

His smirk widened.

"I-It reminded me a lot of how..." She was stammering now like she did when she first met him, as if she were a doe eyed teenager all over again. "You would... erm..."

He continued smirking at her, running his tongue along bottom teeth before biting his lower lip. "Reminded you of what, love?"

She felt her face burn brighter as her hands went to the waistband of his trousers. He quickly caught her hands, holding them into place. A mischievous smile came across his face before he kissed her lips gently. "I don't think so. Not yet." He brought one hand underneath her chin to bring her eyes to look into his. "You haven't changed at all, y'know that?"

His hand reached down to stroke his fingers up the length of her inner thigh to feel of her core. A Cheshire-like grin broke out across his face. "Your fanny is so fuckin' wet... You really enjoyed the show, didn't you...?"

She was breathing heavily as she attempted to grind against his hand, at which he laughed, and held her in place to prevent her from getting the friction she so desperately craved. It was a cruel laugh. He was going to torture her tonight until she was a pleading, mewling, and sobbing for release. Her walls clenched in anticipation.

His thumb circled her clit through the damp fabric of her knickers. He gave her a dangerous glare that prevented her from grinding against him.

"Such a delicious thing... I already know you're going to be as sweet as honey..."

"Robert..." His name came out as a huff on her lips as her clit throbbed with need. "I need this..."

"Need what, my love? Say it."

She groaned. "I need you to fuck me!"

He laughed as he applied the slightest amount of pressure onto her clit, causing her hips to involuntary buck against his hand, and in response, he grabbed her by the hips, spinning her around to pin her against the wall.

"My, my, you have a filthy mouth on you tonight, don't you?" He smirked as she squirmed ever so slightly in his grip. "Mmm... I'm never one to deny my love what she needs, am I?"

She whimpered again, her walls clenching in anticipation.

His hands slipped into her knickers, his fingers gently parting her slick folds, coating his fingertips with her honey.

He groaned as he realized he was not going to be able to resist her dripping honey. "Fuck..." he breathed as she gripped onto his shoulders, her mind clouding with lust as pleasure shot through her with just his single touch. "I want to taste you so badly."

She whimpered again, and his glare intensified. "D-daddy, I just can't wait..."

He pulled back to look at her, the same cruel smirk on his lips. "What did you just say?"

Her face contorted with pleasure as his long, skilled fingers probed at her entrance.

"Answer me, girl. Call me that again."

She knew there had to have been roadies just a few feet away, and they would hear her if she were to moan.

"D-daddy..."

His fingers slipped easily into her folds, and she quickly clapped a hand over her mouth to prevent from screaming.

"You like that?" His voice was low and seductive in her ear.

She nodded quickly.

"That wasn't an answer."

"Y-yes..."

He brought her chin up to make her look into his eyes. "Yes, what?"

She let out a whimper. "Yes, daddy..."

Robert looked behind him to make sure that no one was coming. They were hid among the shadows, but they would be easily found if they made too much noise.

He dropped to his knees, reaching up to drop her knickers.

"Robert, I — "

He gave her a firm slap on her already soaked pussy, causing her to let out an involuntary squeak. "Enough talking. If you so much as whimper during what I am about to do to you, then I will stop." Her heart was hammering in her chest. "And I won't let you cum until we get back to the hotel."

"But... why can't we just go to your dressing room — "

He gave her another firm slap on her core. She bit back a cry of pain, her arousal making her even more sensitive than usual. "Because I want to see how well you do to keep quiet. Now... no talking. He took her knickers and slipped them into his back pocket. "You won't be needing these any more tonight..."

His tongue flicked out to taste test her folds, and pleasure coursed through her, nearly knocking the wind out of her. His eyes glared up at her as her chest heaved, her breathing becoming more ragged and heavy. The licks became deeper, his tongue running up and down the length of her slit, occasionally coming up to flick her swollen nub.

She squeezed her eyes shut, trying so hard not to moan. This was what she wanted - no, needed - ever since she nearly orgasmed by his voice alone. But she wanted so badly to scream his name to the heavens. The fact that she had to keep quiet felt like a form of cruelty.

He had her propped up against the wall, her legs over his shoulders as he knelt on the ground, his blond head bobbing up and down between her thighs as he went between giving her deep licks and long sucks on her clit. She panted heavily, her hands going to his hair to steady herself.

She could feel him moan softly into her core, as if he were devouring the most delicious fruit. His tongue painted her entire sex, massaging the aching bud at the top. And the only thing she could do was lay there and feel it.

He pulled his head back, the coolness of the air feeling like a shock against her soaked heat. He pressed a finger to his lips in a "shhh" motion before applying minimal pressure on her clit. Her hips bucked so hard, she nearly hit him in the face. He pinned her firmly against the wall, his eyes still glaring up at her, before he slid a finger into her. She clamped a hand over her mouth to prevent her cries of pleasure from escaping her lips.

He slid his finger in deeper before retracting it, only to add a second one. He began to massage her mound with his thumb, and her hips writhed against his hand.

She had never felt so dirty before. All she had to do was let out one little cry of pleasure, and one of the road hands would find them; Robert with his head between her legs, lapping away at her as if she were his own personal little whore.

Robert's thumb circled her clit once more, and her walls clenched around his fingers. Her face contorted with pleasure, all while she bit down hard on her lip to prevent from crying out.

His mouth curled around her clit once more, suckling firmly. She panted heavily, gripping hard onto his hair and thrusting her hips up to fuck his face. He groaned low into her core, the sound of it vibrating through her.

She fought the urge to whimper when he pulled back suddenly, standing up.

"What are you..."

He grabbed her by the arm, hauling her to her feet and pulling her skirt down to cover her arse. "Dressing room. Now."

She glanced down to see the fabric of his trousers nearly bursting to the seams with his erection. Her eyes widened in shock.

He grabbed her firmly by the arm, guiding her throughout the backstage area, keeping her away from the other roadies and groupies.

As soon as they were locked in his dressing room, he shoved her onto the bed, her hair flying out like a fiery halo around her head as she fell back. He wasted no time crawling over top of her, her clothes seeming to dissolve underneath his touch.

His head dove back down to latch onto her core, and this time, she didn't try to hold back her moans. He devoured her, groaning as if she were the most delectable fruit he had ever tasted. Her face contorted with pleasure as he suckled on her clit, one had reaching to play with her breasts, pinching and rolling her nipples between his skilled fingers.

"Fuck, Robert, I — "

He stopped suddenly. "That's not how you address me, love."

She groaned in frustration as she attempted to move her hips into his hand. He held her firmly into place. "Y-you can't be serious."

"I am. Call me what you did earlier, or else I won't let you cum."

She whimpered, her walls aching as every nerve and muscle in her body screamed for his touch, aching for release.

"Daddy..." she whimpered.

He smirked and brought his mouth back down to her core, drinking her in as if she were a life-giving elixir. The years of playing harmonica had his lips trained to go for hours upon hours. Her cries of pleasure rang out as he lapped at her, and her hands buried into his soft hair.

Her breathing became heavier and more laboured, and she could feel the knot in her stomach begin to unravel as she felt herself getting closer and closer to release. His tongue flicked out to tickle her swollen nub, and her back arched as she released hard, soaking his golden locks with her juices.

He drank her down with a long suck before pulling back to look down at her. She gazed up at him with eyes hazed with lust, her lips parted, and her trembling body glistening with sweat. The halo of fiery hair around her made her look like an erotic version of a living, breathing Ophelia painting.

He quickly undid his belt, throwing it to the side. She didn't see where it landed; she was too busy frantically trying to unbutton his shirt, ripping several buttons in the process.

Once his clothes were gone, he grabbed her firmly by the waist and pulled her to him, wrapping her legs around his waist and leaning down to press his chest against hers. Her arms went around his neck as he pressed flush against her.

He reached down between them to tease her with his tip; he was harder than she had ever felt him before. He kissed her passionately as he slid easily into her. She let out a deep moan as he did so, and watched as his beautiful face contorted as her tight cunt engulfed his cock.

His breathing became heavier as he began thrusting slowly at first, trying his best to savour the feeling of intense pleasure. But his pace soon quickened. He had held back all night, and her eyes rolled back into her head as he slid in and out of her, his hands groping and grabbing at what part of her he could. He wasn't thinking straight any more — he was spiralling into an uncontrolled frenzy as he thrust into her harder and faster.

"Fuck - yes - you feel... so good..." he panted as she clung to him, her heels digging into his lower back as she moaned in time with each thrust.

"Daddy!" she cried out.

He groaned into her neck. "Fuck, I love when you call me that, love..."

"Daddy, please don't stop..."

Robert chuckled softly into her neck as his thrusts became more and more relentless. "Oh, I can do this all night long."

He gripped her hips tight, thrusting harder and faster as she let out screams of pleasure. He wasn't kidding; he really could go all night. His relentless energy and sense of rhythm sent her over the edge at least two more times. Her back arched as she felt her soul alleviate from her body from the second orgasm in a row. She threw her head back, which he took as a chance to attack her neck with kisses and love bites. Nibbling and suckling, tugging the skin between his teeth.

Marking her.

He groaned as he leaned down to press his chest against hers, moving faster and faster, the bed springs creaking loudly underneath their movements as they rutted against each other in a frenzy. Her moans became louder to the point where they might as well have been screams.

It wasn't until after she had her fourth orgasm of the night that he allowed himself to explode inside her; whimpering in his climax before collapsing on top of her.

They both laid there, panting heavily while catching their breaths, their heartbeats touching. He was still buried inside her, seemingly too tired to pull out of her. His face was buried in the crook of her neck, feeling like he could cry into her, as if he had finally found his home.

He gave her the first tender kiss he had all night. She kissed him back, running her hands through his hair again.

"I love you," he whispered into her skin. It sounded so desperate, almost like a whine.

She still wasn't used to him saying that to her. He had told her many times throughout the past six months, but she still couldn't believe this beautiful man loved her, and that she had him all to herself. That he would ignore countless other women throwing themselves at his feet all to be with her.

She stroked the back of his head gently, running her fingers through his gold locks. "I love you too, Robert..."

For a moment, she thought he was going to fall to sleep in her arms. His face was buried in her neck.

"Shouldn't we get back to the hotel...?" she whispered gently.

He murmured. "Just a few more minutes..."

She poked him in the shoulder. "C'mon. It won't be long before Richard comes in here to check if the dressing rooms are empty, and I'd rather not have him see us like this..."

Robert buried his nose into her hair for a few more moments, before finally lifting himself off of her and settling beside her.

She looked up at him and smiled softly, resting her head on his chest, burying her face into the light bit of chest hair he had. She kissed his chest before getting up and pulling her clothes on, and he followed after her shortly after. Neither of them were in any hurry; they kept stealing glances back at each other while they slowly dressed.

"Erm, Robert..."

"Hm?" He was attempting to button his shirt back up but too many buttons were missing.

"You still have my knickers..."

The mischief came across his face again as a smirk broke out. "Yes, I do."

She gave him an annoyed look. "You're not going to give them back, are you?"

"Not yet... going au natural will make the ride back to the hotel more... interesting." He patted his back pocket.

She bit her lip as her stomach clenched at what he may have in mind for the rest of the night. "You really are insatiable, aren't you?" Not that she was complaining in the slightest.

He leaned in and placed a tender kiss to her lips. "I told you, doll, I can do this all night long."

Her heart raced as she thought about what he would do back at the hotel room. She let him lead her out of the venue as he placed a protective arm around her shoulders, leading her out of the venue and into the waiting limousine to take them back to the hotel, where their night was far from over with.

[staybabblingbaby]

Felix Tinder AU (First Date Part) A2 D3

[Caution: These are not full fics, or even full parts of fics for some, these are part of my writing progress archive!]

Concept: You match with what you think is a Stray Kids fan account on Tinder. You get along great with the account's owner, and think it's probably your most successful match to-date. Little do you know who's actually behind the screen...

Word Count: 1,580

Notes: So this will probably be the actual beginning. Maybe. Some version of it, anyways. idk, the formatting for this one is a bit... And I still have to figure out how to make fake Tinder stuff without photoshop. I do not own adobe products. This may actually end up being the first writing part in a hybrid SMAU, so it might not be the first part at all. We'll see. I didn't read this one back for any editing notes bc This entire fic is fighting me rn and I don't wanna look at it lol

Warnings: None as far as I'm aware

Leave me comments or questions or anything! Love hearing from folks <3

Masterlist | Next Part (Coming soon!)

You nervously tap on your steering wheel, anxious gaze glued to the side door you were parallel parked directly in front of. You felt sketchy as hell, but this was the manager-approved pick-up method apparently. Or at least leader-approved. You weren’t really clear on the details.

You were still sort of processing that this was your life, actually. Details were a bit secondary to the big picture here, you thought.

At last, the door creaks open and the blond head you’d been waiting for pops out. After a brief cautious sweep of his gaze, his eyes lock on your car. You roll the window down to offer him an awkward smile and a little wave.

Then, with a bright smile that made your heart do stupid little summersaults, Yongbok Felix Lee is sliding into your beat-up little jeep. You’re shamefully distracted by his (very) pretty face for a solid 10 seconds before you roll up the window and start moving to a proper parking spot.

You may be dazed by his presence, but by all things good in this world you were not carting off a (sort-of) stranger without talking to them first.

“Hi!” He’s the first to break the momentary silence, sunny grin on full, blinding, blast in your passenger seat. Your brain stalls a second time as your (again) realize that Stray Kids’ Felix is in your car. Like right now. Currently.

“Wazzup?” You greet back with a cheeky little smirk. You feel a bit bad for Felix. Making light of things was your one and only coping mechanism. You hoped he hadn’t been expecting a serious candle-lit dinner from you.

Well. Candles, maybe. Depends on how late the two of you ended up staying out.

Luckily Felix seems delighted by your overly-casual demeanor, bumping your arm with gentle playfulness. It almost feels like you’re two close friends meeting up after a long time instead of (sort-of) near-strangers.

You know that if he spends enough time with you the shell of confidence you’re currently wearing will become transparent, but hopefully the façade would carry you through tonight.

“We’re just moving so we can talk without being in the way before we head out.” You explain, pulling into a shaded parking spot in the corner of the lot. You’ve pulled hopefully far enough away to not attract attention from the doors, but also not far enough to be creepy.

Felix nods, tilting his head curiously at you. “Sure, what are we talking about?”

You put the car in park and laugh a bit at his cuteness. “Just expectations and whatnot,” You say, unbuckling so you can turn and face him properly.

“Before all that, though, are you a hugger?” You hold your arms open a bit, not enough to actually touch him, and making sure you’re not leaning forward, letting him take the reigns of contact.

You worry you may be being a bit too forward, but you were trying for normality with all of this, and you really did open most interactions with hugs when you could. You were touchy like that.

Fears once again unfounded, Felix grins widely and quickly reels you in for as tight a hug as the two of you can manage whilst still seated. He reels you in so quickly, if fact, that your arms become trapped between the two of you and you struggle for a moment to wiggle them free and wrap them firmly around his waist.

As you settle in, you rock the two of you to-and-fro, and Felix lets out a content little sigh that has you melting into the embrace.

You sort of feel like giggling madly and tearing up at the same time. You feel a bit like you need to vomit, as well, but you hold all three urges back. It’s just that Felix holds you so warmly and delicately, you feel a bit like you might shatter before the night even begins.

You reluctantly pull back before you cross the bounds of appropriateness for a first meeting, skootching around so you can bring your legs up into your seat in a weird pretzel and start the conversation properly.

You want to coo at Felix as he imitates you and gets himself comfy as well. You’re down bad for this man already, unfortunately. IT’s best that you don’t let on quite how badly if you can help it. You don’t know if you can.

“So!” You start with a clap, “First of all, allow me to welcome you to our humble city.” You do an awkward showman’s bow, gesturing as grandly as you’re able when you’ve crumpled yourself into the world’s cringiest ball.

You’re so damn lucky that Felix seems so charmed by you so far. You’re begging with everything you can that your innate silliness will guide you through tis interaction without you panicking too hard.

“I’ve been here for several days now, first of all,” Felix starts, eyes twinkling with amusement and mischief. You play right into his hands, squawking with offense and playfully swatting at him.

You both dissolve into giggles as he tries to catch your hands to keep them from hitting him, and you loudly begin to complain, “Oh well, I’m sorry someone was too busy playing two fabulous shows to come see little ol’ me before now!”

“Oh, come on now, you wouldn’t let me get you seats, you deserve this ribbing!” He retorts back, finally catching your hands and putting a stop to your flailing. He pauses then, and you can practically see the gears in his head turning.

“Wait.” He tugs you forward by your hands, staring you down with an expression of delighted disbelief. “Fabulous show? Were you there?”

You quickly turn your head to hide the mirthful smirk on your face, replying only with a drawn out “Maaaaaybe.”

Felix gasps loudly, letting go of your hands only to lightly slap your knee, “Why didn’t you tell me? I could have gotten you backstage or something!”

You wave your hands in front of you, both warding off Felix’s playful attacks nd waiving off his words.

“No, no!” You deny him, continuing on to confess, “I actually had the tickets before we even started talking, I got them right as they went on sale.” You pause and duck you head a bit to hide your blush, “Besides, our first real meeting should be our first date, right? That’s how this works.”

To your slight mortification, you can very easily tell that Felix is trying his hardest not to coo at you, so you quickly rush to move on before he can interrogate you further.

“But we’re getting off track!” You exclaim, pointing at him in gentle threat. He holds up his hands in surrender, but you can tell by the smirk on his face that he wouldn’t let it go that easily. Still, he lets you move the conversation forward for now.

“So, I’m a bit paranoid,” You suddenly confess. Felix’s brow creases with concern, but you continue before he can get any weird ideas into his head, “I just wanna make sure we’re on the same page before we actually go anywhere.”

Felix makes a noise of understanding and gestures for you to continue.

“So I just want to make sure we’re both expecting this to be a romantic date and not, like, a platonic one.” You explain. Felix tilts his head a bit in confusion but nods along.

“Yeah, we’re on the same page there.” He agrees. His gentle smile feels a bit like he’s humoring you, but you plough on regardless.

“And I know we’ve already talked about this, but I don’t put out on first dates. I’m not into hookups, so even if you’re leaving tomorrow I’m expecting this to be the first of many or the first and last date.”

Felix seems to be cottoning onto the intended severity of the conversation, despite its relatively light tone. He nods along, seeming pleased about something. You pause to let him interject, but he just gestures you to continue.

You hesitate a moment, but then finish with, “That’s all, really, I just want both of us to be happy with things at the end of tonight.”

Felix smiles so fondly at you that you think you’ll combust, so you quickly reach across him to open your glove box to pull out a couple of papers, to Felix’s utter bafflement.

“Moving on!” You exclaim, pretending that your ears aren’t burning with the force of your blush, “I also have these!”

You present to Felix a paper with an address and your vehicle details as well as a map with a certain area circled.

“Ok, so, keeping as much a secret as I can,” You begin to babble as Felix examines the papers with confusion painted over his delicate features.

“But I was thinking about what we could do that didn’t involve being in public much and wasn’t expensive or anything, and I came up with a plan. A friend of mine owns some forested land with some nice hiking trails, so I thought we’d start there, but it’s a bit rural and I know it’s weird, so I brought both the lot address and coordinates and my car details so you can tell your people exactly where you’ll be and if phone service dies or anything no one freaks out and-”

You cut yourself off, realizing that you’d probably said way more than you needed to

[xxmoonch1ldxx]

Ianthony one shot: Must be love on the brain (and it keeps cursing my name)

Ian and Anthony kiss. That's it, that's the plot.

Based on the prompt: "Fuck, can we do this again?"

Dedicated to @lilac-hecox even if she makes me suffer

_______________

"Fuck, can we do that again?"

Anthony's hot breath fanned against Ian's lips, making the smaller boy shiver. One moment, they had been writing the script for their next sketch, and the other, Anthony's lips were on him.

Ian didn't know how it happened.

He didn't really care, however.

"Shut the fuck up," was Ian's only muttered answer as his grip on Anthony's hair tightened, only to then smash their lips together again.

The younger's hands were lost in his sidekick's hair, messing them up entirely as his only way to hold on. Anthony's lips tasted like the beer he had drank and like the cherry lip balm he used, a taste Ian didn't think it was possible to get enough of. Anthony's hands were lost on his partner's skin, one buried in his neck while the other instinctively caressed his chest, although covered with a t-shirt. That simple touch made Ian quiver with desire.

Time seemed to have stopped, to slow down only to give way to this feverish exchange. Ian's hands were shaking where they gripped Anthony's hair, his knuckles white from the strenght he used, but none of them cared.

The only thing Ian could focus on was the feeling of those soft lips against his. His wicked tongue licking across them, not leaving any inch uncovered as he even bit his partner's lower lip slightly.

The small sting pushed Ian to quietly whine and part his lips, which allowed Anthony to finally make his way inside. His tongue, devious as always, did not repent anyhow; it licked every inch inside of Ian's mouth he could reach until Ian was putting in his hands.

Anthony's hand pushed Ian a bit more against the couch, half laying on top of him as he cupped the smaller man's jaw. This allowed them to deepen their exchange, tongues mingling together in a fight none of them could win. Winning wasn't what mattered at the moment, anyway; what mattered was the warmth surrounding them, the saliva connecting their lips and the hard press of a body against him. The slight burn of ratchy beard sliding across his skin.

It was phenomal, everything he had ever wished for; how had he never kissed Anthony like that before? Why had they been missing out on something so great all these years?

And Ian knew he would regret it a bit, he knew he would be horribly embarrassed by those little, soft sighs escape his mouth, but he couldn't help it. Against him, he could hear Anthony's own contented sighs and feel the fast beating of his heart against his chest.

God, Ian was melting alive. He was to never get up off this couch never again. He didn't even care if he couldn't breathe anymore; he didn't want it to stop.

Anthony did need to breathe, though, as Ian noticed once he slowly broke their passionate exchange.

Ian nearly went cross-eyed following the string of saliva still connecting them. Especially once Anthony's thumb swiftly broke it by caressing Ian's lips, glazed look in his hazel eyes before letting his hand rest on Ian's chest.

"Holy shit, man..."

Anthony's voice was nothing more than a whisper as he placed his forehead against Ian's. His heavy panting landed against Ian's lips, and yet, the most saccharine of smiles graced his face right at that moment.

White, straight teeth and dimples that Ian knew where there despite not even being able to see them caused his heart to summersault for the umpteenth time.

"Anthony," he panted himself, well aware of the deafening sound of his own heartbeat. He knew Anthony could feel it where his hand was splayed, and yet, he only smiled more.

"Your eyes are so pretty, have I once told you how gorgeous you are?"

Anthony's honey-like voice melted into Ian's ear, and he would have been fully ready to fall back into that passionate exchange had it not been for his partner bumping his eyes against the edge of his glasses.

"Ouch!"

Ian couldn't help the laugh that bumbled out of him. Anthony was covering his wounded eyes and he felt kind of bad, yet he was not able to stop giggling. Maybe it was because of the pure euphoria he felt, but he didn't stop until Anthony also joined him and they finished on the floor all over each other.

"God, you're an idiot," whispered Ian as fondly as possible.

Anthony was smiling.

"Hmm, but you love me."

And as he spoke, the taller man removed his partner's glasses before putting them on the coffee table. His hand instinctively went on Ian's cheek, caressing the strong cheekbone and the curve of hypnotizing blue eyes that had charmed him long ago.

"I guess I do," Ian stated with that smile he only gave Anthony. Those fond eyes he had tried for so long to hide, the ones who looked like the whole ocean and its marvelous treasures inside.

Anthony knew he would always have something to find out about Ian. And he loved that.

"Now shut up and kiss me again."

Anthony didn't need to be told twice.

[dmercer91]

What is a moment for each Nick and Raegan (sp?) that they start to fall for the other person? Or do you have other ideas about them becoming a couple?

for nick, raegan walks into yost with landen after an art class and she’s covered in paint. he cannot for the life of him understand why it gets so messy for her considering how long she’s done it. that, in itself has his heart doing little summersaults but he’s kinda in denial about his crush on her and they’re sort of acting as close friends

she brought clothes to change into for the game but very much underestimated how long the walk back to the party everyone was going to took and she freezes her ass off in a low cut long sleeve

he offers her his sweater but it’s significantly too big for her and when she puts in on the hood flops onto her nose and the number nine on it is covering her eyes. listening to her laugh while adjusting the hood, her in his clothes and number, and the kiss on his cheek he gets as a thank you are all a combining force for him to realize he’s in deep

for reagan it takes a little longer and there’s much more angst, cause my brain likes to do that

but they drunkenly hookup, and despite the fact that he spends the whole night being nothing but gentle and sweet and looking at her like she’s the only thing he’s ever wanted, she’s not convinced he wanted anything more than just that one accidental night, that he’d even regret sleeping with her.

she had a really really big glow up the summer before her senior year, and so she spent the majority of her teenaged years getting picked on for her looks, her acne and her body which was hugely damaging to her self image and confidence

people would ask her out as a joke just to send her hurtful messages or stand her up, and now when someone shows interest she doesn’t understand that it’s genuine, especially when it’s a hockey player who she finds is probably the prettiest boy she’s ever seen

it’s not that she didn’t like nick before, she just didn’t think anything would ever happen with him and didn’t even entertain the idea enough to catch feelings

so in the morning when she wakes up curled up in his arms, she tries to leave before he wakes up. she can barely get out of his shirt and into her own before he’s sitting up and mumbling for her to come back to bed

“you tryin’ to leave me, sunshine?” and he smiled, cause he honestly thought she was just getting dressed and was probably gonna stick around

but when she says “always feel groggy in the morning, wanna shower. should probably get going,” all meekly and barely above a whisper, he realizes what she was actually trying to do

his face scrunches up in hurt and confusion and he’s sitting on the edge of the bed, pulling her into him by her hips.

he’s rubbing up and down them soothingly and offering his shower, for him to join. there are tears in her eyes when she reiterates that she should probably just go home.

and it’s a long shot, but he’s hoping that her heads playing tricks and she doesn’t actually regret him, want to leave him

“don’t mean to be selfish, but i don’t want you to go,” and he pulls her closer with one arm, grabs her hand with the other.

“you’re sure?” and he nods, looking up at her so hopefully

she pulls her hand back and wraps both arms around his neck, hugging him close to her and feeling him reciprocate.

her hands bury into his hair and she kisses him and when he kisses back she can feel her whole body tingling and she just knows

apologies for the essay, friends

[bunnyanqel]

Pretend Just A Little (1)

[1] [2] [3] [4]

Summary: Maggie pretends to be Eddie's girlfriend for just one night.

Warnings: NSFW, smut, dirty talk, slight power imbalances, accidental voyeurism, public sex, exhibitionism, car sex, safe sex

｡ﾟﾟ･｡･ﾟﾟ｡ ﾟ。 also on AO3 ! 　ﾟ･｡･ﾟ

The only decent about Maggie’s job was Eddie Munson, aka the boss’s kid. While he technically was Wayne’s nephew, that didn’t make the taboo thrill any less. Something something power imbalances and all that nastiness.

Except there was nothing nasty about Eddie. Not at all. Bigger than life, theatrical, adorable—he was everything she wanted. And couldn’t have. Fuck.

Not for the first time, Maggie cursed this job. Sure, it paid the bills and made sure Hannibal, her ancient long-haired Persian, got fed but damn did it ruin her chances of shooting her shot with the star of her dreams, and wasn’t that a damn shame? Still, there were some merits, mainly the ease of her gig and the fact that, while she couldn’t ask him out, she could ogle a sweaty, grime-covered Eddie.

She couldn’t understand the way the Hawkins girls had turned up their prissy noses at an authentic, compassionate guy like Eddie but she supposed it was the dream of a white picket fence, bragging rights over her husband being a football player or something of the sort, and eight kids she never wanted.

If she were being honest, applying for the job had been a last-ditch effort to supplement her income when the bookstore she’d worked at went under. She’d been desperate but not desperate enough to allow some incompetent, half-brained white men to walk all over her like she was supposed to smile and be grateful that they deigned to allow her in their space. As luck had it, Munson Mechanics needed a receptionist, she needed a job, and the rest was history.

“Maggie! Maggie Mae! Light of my life, apple of my eye, goddess of dessert!”

The sound of Eddie’s voice cut through the cacophony of the mechanics working and it also made Maggie look up from her magazine. He approached with quick, buoyant steps and sprawled across the desk dramatically.

She’d have rolled her eyes if her heart wasn’t ready to pound out of her chest and if her pussy wasn’t clamping at his closeness. Somehow her lusty-filled crush had only bloomed bigger, and she could even decipher his footsteps. Like a fucking dog.

Christ.

She focused on Eddie’s theatrics. “What can I do for you, sugar?” she asked, watching as he twisted to his stomach and half-laid across the desk. So close she could smell his shampoo and feel the heat of his bare arms next to her fingers. Her stomach summersaulted.

Focus, you horny bitch. You can use your vibrator when you get home, she told her brain, even as she focused on his pretty, pink mouth and the way his nose crinkled when he scrunched it. To be truthful, she was surprised she could even form coherent when he looked at her with those big, brown eyes.

He straightened up from his reclined positioned and fixed her with an apologetic smile and fiddled with the paperweights and knick-knacks she had on the counter. It took every ounce of willpower not to drool over his nimble, dexterous fingers and even more to not beg him to put them inside of her.

“So, you know The Hideout, right?”

She nodded.

“My band—”

“Corroded Coffin.” She flashed him a smile when he faltered, looking more than a little surprised, and it made her want to suck him off. Right here. She ignored her pussy’s bitchy demands.

“I—uh, wow. You remembered.” Pink crept up his gaunt cheeks. “Anyway.” He cleared his throat. “One of the guy’s that’s there has been giving me shit, saying I couldn’t—couldn’t, uh—” He stopped and looked away, his brows furrowed over his eyes, that pretty pink flush darkening to a delicious burgundy-like color.

She wanted to kiss it and see how far down it went. “Couldn’t what, sugar?” she asked gently, and his throat bobbed as he swallowed, chewing the question. Rolling the words to explain. “Do I need to cut someone? I know southern hospitality and all that shit, but us southern gals know a thing or two about broken kneecaps.” She gave him a syrupy sweet smile.

“No, no!” He yanked at his hair before he whipped around to face her fully, his eyes wild and more than a little embarrassed, sheepish. Boyish. It was hard to remember he was still a young man and even someone as suave and debonair as him were liable to make mistakes. “I—I fucked up. I might’ve—maybe—sort of told him I have a smokin’ hot babe of a girlfriend.”

That didn’t explain why he was telling her. Don’t get her wrong, she knew she was attractive, but why would Eddie be telling her about his lie? “So you—I’m sorry, sugar, I really am, but I’m afraid I’m not following you’re line of thinking.”

“I was hoping—I was thinking that maybe, uh, you could—if you want to, I mean—” He fought to get the words out before he growled to himself and backed away for a second, scrubbing at his face.

That growl went straight to her swollen clit and right into the little folder labeled ‘Noises Eddie Makes That I’ll Masturbate To Later,’ which located next to her abundant memories of Eddie’s multitude of orgasm-causing expressions. It was largely those puppy dog eyes.

“I want you to pretend to be my girlfriend, Mags.”

Oh, that nickname melted her bones and made her heart skitter in her ribcage. And his request, earnest and a little unhinged with desperation, made her shift her hips slightly, grinding the seam of her arousal-wet panties into her clit to try to get even the smallest amount of relief. She knew as soon as she got home she was whipping out her vibrator and going to town because she knew she was going to agree.

Not because he was looking at her with those big, big brown eyes so beseechingly and wetly but because Eddie almost never asked for help. But also because she was flattered to high hell that she was the first—

“Why don’t you ask one of your little female friends? The older girls. Uh, Karen Wheeler’s girl and that Buckley girl.”

“Buckley’s…not available and neither is Nancy. Besides you’re the first person that came to mind when I think ‘smoking hot babe who’s willing to put up with me and my big mouth.’” He gave her a smile that creased his eyes and made his dimples come out, and yup, she was a sucker, a goner for this man.

She looked at him, taking in the long hands, the well-defined biceps, the lopsided smile, and gestured for him to come closer. He obeyed without hesitation, and she took his hand in one of hers, feeling the ridge of his fingers, the close-trimmed nails, the callouses from guitar playing. She wanted to put her mouth on his fingers, sucking and toying with him, but that was simply impossible.

He was asking her for a favor.

That was it.

She ran her thumb over one of his bare knuckles.

“You don’t have to, of course, if you really don’t—” He was babbling, chewing his bottom lip, anxious and sweet, and damn if she wasn’t determined to masturbate when she got home, well, now it was a given.

“I will. Don’t worry, sugar. I’ll treat you good. Pinkie promise,” she said, and because she was more than a little riled up, she licked her lips. Tasted her lip balm and saw how his eyes tracked the movement hungrily.

When he left, she almost laughed at the sight of his quick, please-don’t-notice-my-erection walk and stopped laughing immediately when she realized he’d been standing here, talking to her, with a goddamn erection.

Maybe tonight would be harder than she thought.

Maggie smoothed her sisterlocks back and examined her outfit with a critical eye, wondering if her outfit was sexy enough. A midriff-bearing halter top, low-rise leather pants that hugged her ass, and motorcycle boots. Her lipstick and nails matched—blood-red. Fuck, she felt like a vampiress, a vixen.

Frowning, she examined her breasts and readjusted her left one. While she usually avoided black, preferring lighter colors against her light-brown complexion, she looked like she belonged in the Underworld movies and damn did she look good.

It was just one night of acting, of playing Eddie’s besotted girlfriend. She could do that without ruining everything, right?

Catching sight of the time, she grabbed her car keys, turned her volume loud as fuck so she could ignore her nerves, and screamed along with the likes of Alesana, Hollywood Undead and Silverstein. Each song had her head banging—responsibly and safely of course—and slapping her steering wheel, and it wasn’t long before the turn to The Hideout came into view.

Shit was her first thought. Showtime was the second because she’d caught sight of Eddie’s familiar clunker of a van and the band members around him—Jeff, a Black boy with close-cropped hair; Gareth, a curly-haired white boy; and Sawyer, a behemoth, bearded white boy.

A chorus of greetings filled the air when she pulled into a parking spot and climbed out.

“Babe! You made it!” Eddie bounded over not unlike a Labrador and swept her into a bone-crushing hug, hands precariously close to her ass. “How’re you not cold?”

“Nerves,” she whispered low enough only he heard. When he set her back on her feet, she felt some strength leave her knees at the soft, melty look in his puppy-dog eyes. Pathetic—truly, she was pathetic with a capital P.

“I’m gonna be touching you all night,” he murmured close to her lips as his hands bracketed either side of her face, palms and fingers cold on her hot face, quiet enough that only she heard. “Is that okay? Like, hands on your ass and shit.”

“Yeah.” The idea of Eddie touching her, putting his hands all over her, shot through her like a gasoline fire, blazing and burning. Her lust-soaked brain conjured the most tantalizing images: his lips wrapped around her dark nipple, his fingers toying with her pussy, his cock inside of her and him braced above her. Shit. She needed to get a hold of herself.

He pulled back a fraction, his dark eyes serious, unsmiling, and she liked serious Eddie as much as she did dramatic Eddie. A shudder worked its way through her, all white-hot arousal. “You sure? Cause I don’t—” he started.

“Yup. One hundred percent certain.” She gave him a smile and watched as he stepped back, his familiar ever-smiling mask slipping back into place. She was still watching him when he turned to finish loading equipment into the bar, and caught sight of the low-hanging jeans, bearing too much of his boxers.

Tonight was going to be a testament to her will power when it came to Eddie. That much was a certain.

[scummy-writes]

*summersaults in*

I’m not sure if you were doing the “tell me what passage, fic, line of narration, or anything you remember me by as a writer” thing but if not… I hope this ask finds you well 😅

I just have to say how much I really love how you write Arthur 🥺 I’ve probably read them all, and they match his vibe so well.

Some examples of my faves~ MC too depressed to get out of bed? That’s one of my go-to comfort fics. Midnight Impulses? Chef’s kiss. Truly rent free.

And so back when you had commissions open, I immeeediately hopped on it… give or take 30 minutes 😅 and I was stoked to have another go-to Arthur comfort fic I could lean on.

There was a moment when I was rereading it that I kinda just “huh… I know it’s ‘Arthur’ saying this but really it’s Scum giving me really solid advice rn as the author” and it broke my brain for a lil while. The same thing happened with Uncomposed Sorrows. It was kinda like a friend giving a word-hug to others who are stressed tf out.

(I may have reread Uncomposed Sorrows earlier today. I may have also gotten a lil emotional about it again. Hard to say.)

But idk, I think your ability to write great comfort fics is pretty rad. It’s a special kind of empathy, and my god does it seem vulnerable (I still haven’t talked myself into posting any). But I can vouch for yours helping me feel better during ~the sads~. I also want to mention that you’re always kind and empathetic, even when it’s just chatting, and that’s also pretty rad.

Sorry if this was weird/random, but if it is *Keef voice* you can punch me if you’d like 😭 also you absolutely don’t need to post this if you don’t want to, I just wanted you to know you’re cool 🥹

*dodge rolls out*

aww moth. I did reblog it but after a few hours i felt self concious and deleted it, so you may have seen it intially hahaha 👉👈 this isnt weird at all! this is very flattering and very very very kind of you to send. put the keef voice away!!!

i don't know if you *want* a behind the scenes for those stories, because I understand that the disconnect of 'this is Arthur saying this' verses 'this is Scum saying this' may sort of strip some of the fun from the stories, so feel free to ignore this part:

for the 'Mc too depressed to get out of bed' fanfic, and Uncomposed Sorrows, both of those were. well, I was depressed! The bed one I was holed up in bed for a few days in an awful depression fit, and then for the other I was very, very, very frustrated at myself for being unable to write. When I get in these moods (thankfully, the first one not happening for a few years), i do try to think of my favorite characters witnessing me in such a state, or. loosely an oc. and consider how they may react and how they would help. In both of those, i imagined Arthur would know the telltale signs of depression, how awful it can get, mixed in with a few other issues. I imagined that he's likely very experienced with both as well, especially since he has ptsd.

Arthur in those served as a voice of reason I needed to hear in those moments, or the voice of distraction- some kinda reminder that things are fine, and so that's what I imagined when I was upset. and I wrote those out usually in the moment to help distract myself, and that may be why they sound very vulnerable! because I was very upset when I wrote those. writing them helped me process the emotions and accept that, well, if it was a fave chara who could relate to what I was goin through telling me these things, then it made it easier to swallow and accept.

In a way, it is also me giving advice, even if it is Arthur saying it, and in a way, it is arthur giving advice I feel like he may try to give in these scenarios.

I think i babbled a lot and made this sound confusing

I am very, very happy that these give you a lot of comfort, and i am happy the comm one does too!! I really wanted them to comfort others, so i am very happy that you're able to reread them again and it helps you feel better.

If you think posting some of your own vent-pieces will help you process whatever it is you're going through, then I encourage it! it's nice to have it written down that our blorbos would comfort us.

thank you again for the super sweet message moth!! it was really nice to read and I've read it about five times now, ahaha!

[autisticwriterblog]

T, Tim Breaker for the mini fic prompts

-Koskela Knights

T - an obscure AU

I decided to use one of my favourite video games as the AU. It's called 999: Nine Hours, Nine Persons, Nine Doors and I love it a lot. It's full of escape room puzzles and a mindfuck of a story line (but in a good way). Hopefully, this makes sense if you're unfamiliar with 999, but if not, it might help to watch the opening few minutes of the game on youtube, because that's what this fic is based on. Anyway, sorry for rambling. That's the AU I chose. 😂

Title: Trapped

Summary: Tim wakes up in an unfamiliar room with a strange bracelet strapped to his wrist.

Word Count: 608

Warnings: Mentions of kidnapping and drugging

Fic is under the cut. Or read on ao3 here!

Tim wakes up with a horrible headache—a sensation that only gets worse when he tries to sit up and smacks his forehead against solid metal. He cries out, forcing his aching eyes open, and finds himself staring at the underside of a metal bed frame. Is he on the bottom level of a bunk bed? What the actual fuck?

Carefully, Tim turns his throbbing head, staring around his unfamiliar surroundings. It looks like the interior of a cabin, the sort from an old ship like the Titanic. Seriously, what the fuck is going on? And how did he get here?

Everything feels fuzzy, but Tim tries to piece together his memories. Where was he before this? What happened to him? It’s hard to think when his head hurts so badly, but he focuses on his shifting thoughts like his life depends on it. Which may very well be the case.

Eventually, a memory comes to him. Tim remembers arriving home from the sheriff’s station after a long day, but finding the window open in his living room. However, he was certain that he left it locked. Tim would hesitate to call himself paranoid, but with all the strange dreams he has, he often worries about someone coming to get him—hence always double checking his doors and windows are locked. So, if he didn’t leave it open, what was going on? Tim approached the window to close it… and saw the reflection of a figure behind him—wearing all black and a gas mask over their face.

Something metal hit the floor with a thunk, followed by a hissing sound as white gas began to cloud the air… and before Tim could work out what to do, he accidentally breathed some of the gas and everything started to fade. And, with the stranger still in his home, he passed out.

So… someone was in his house. And they fucking drugged him. They must have brought him here when he was unconscious. Fuck.

Could this be Door’s doing? The guy haunts his dreams, so maybe he escalated to kidnapping? Or is this the cult he’s heard so much about? Shit, he doesn’t know.

Awkwardly, Tim eases himself off the bed and drops down to the floor, his feet struggling to keep him upright. His brain feels like it does summersaults inside his skull, his limbs weak and wobbly. He kind of wants to puke, but Tim manages not to. As he stares around the cabin, his eyes glance down… and he notices the strange bracelet on his wrist.

It looks like a watch but has no face—instead displaying a bright red number [5]. Tim turns his wrist over, longing to take the creepy thing off, but he can’t find a clasp, the whole band utterly smooth. So how does he take it off? The thought of someone strapping this to him when he was out cold makes Tim shiver.

He stumbles over to the door, but finds it locked. Tim isn’t surprised anymore. A weird machine sits on the wall beside the door, but Tim can’t make sense of it. He must need to do something to open it, but no ideas come to him.

A cracking sound makes Tim turn his head (and the room spins, throwing him off balance) in search of the noise. He stares at the small, circular window, where a crack has appeared. Tim’s stomach drops. And before he can think of any way to fix the problem, the crack widens and widens… and water begins to pour into the cabin.

And in that moment, Tim realises exactly how fucked he is.

[moonchildstyles]

Okay so from where to start i have no idea , i don't have enough words to tell you how much i adore the whole ester series i just completed the whole thing ( blurbs excluded) and I'm so so so so In love, there were parts where i felt a bit teary because i could relate to both h and angel and i just know one thing — this is forever going to hold a special place in my heart , you write so well and so nicely that it makes my heart full of love and feelings , you made my stomach do summersaults with the way you write H , he's everything one could ever wish for but the way you write angel ????? Is commendable ♡︎ thank you for writing

omg :(((((( thank you so much for taking the time to read my writing and like....idk just... let it into ur brain you know? like I hope that makes sense but im really so happy ou like it and just thank you for taking the time to read it and everything and just thank you thank you thank you:(((((

[peasthedumb]

If you’re ever worried of being forgotten , commit several murders. You won’t be forgotten.

[freshabogados]

KAT!!!!! Congrats on 120 followers, so deserved!!! 🥳🎉❤️

please could i request

from the fluff prompts 10. “did you just kiss me?”

and from the smut prompts 3. “do that again.”

thank you! ❤️

MINDI MY LOVE THANKYOU 💖😚🤧💗

AAAHHHH this prompt do be so cute. Let me sprinkle some angst into it. Thankyou for sending it in 😚

Tags: angst, pure fluff, unresolved feelings resolved, Matt being the sweetest pretty boy 🤧, two dumb idiots in love.

Pairing: Matt Murdock x gn!reader

He is just being friendly. He is indifferent to you.

.

You've been friends with Matt and Foggy ever since Karen introduced you to the attorney duo. You were assisting Karen with accessing some records and she thanked you by taking you to Josie's to meet Nelson and Murdock of Nelson, Murdock, and Page. You grew closer to the three over the months but felt an electric attraction to the handsome blind lawyer. You both flirted shamelessly every time you hung out at Josie's or at their little law firm. You were sure you had a crush on him and you were sure he had a crush on you, too. That hope went down the drain until Foggy told you about Matt's dating behaviours.

With that you shoved your stupid little crush on him into the back of the feelings closet and wiped your disappointment away. But a little bit of hope sneaked its way out and you were left aching every time you were around Matt. But neither of you made a move and that only contributed to your existing pain. Maybe you were just imagining things because someone was being genuinely kind to you.

Matt surely had a crush on you. He enjoyed the little moments you both shared. He caught himself looking forward to your presence, a giddy smile found its way to his lips every time you talked. The uptick of your heartbeat whenever he flirted back, heat surging through your body as you blushed at his compliments, accidental touches that leave him yearning for more of you were all he thought about when he lay awake at night.

But you stopped your usual flirty banter one day and Matt searched for his mistakes like a confused kitten.

Did I do something wrong? Or was it just my feelings playing a trick on me the whole time?

He didn't find an answer to his questions. But he didn't shove his feelings away, he just let it observe you from the corner of the room, letting it soak up the tiniest joys you bring him.

Foggy invited you to Josie's and you didn't pass up the chance of getting drunk, not when you were in the dumps. You happily accepted his invitation. Matt's usually not there with his friends and you assumed he just didn't fancy a night out; you weren't expecting to see him tonight. You walked in and your heart started doing its frenzy summersaults when you looked at Matt seated casually on the bar stool with a whiskey in his hands and sleeves rolled up exposing his thick forearms.

You took a deep breath and steadied yourself, giving yourself a mental warning. You shook your head to clear your thoughts and walked towards the bunch. You were greeted with hellos as you took your seat next to Matt. He smiled at you with his dimple illuminated by the dim lights in the bar as you greeted him back.

He looks so dreamy.

You tried your best to push any hopeful feelings away and got through the night without stumbling on your words and confessing your feelings towards Matt.

Matt offered to walk you back home and you didn't protest. That remnant hope was playing its games. Your walk back to your apartment was mostly silent except when Matt asked you something and you responded in a word or a phrase. Matt's heart sank with every cut-short response you gave him.

You stood in front of your apartment building wondering if you should say something. Your mouth opened and closed like a fish, your brain was not being able to form the right words.

Matt was still holding you by your elbow with an expectant look on his face. He could hear the way your heart was beating the whole night; he could feel the goosebumps adorning your skin whenever he brushed his arms or legs against you. But you were holding back and he didn't know why.

"Good night, Matt" you said half-heartedly, snapping him out of his thoughts.

When Matt didn't respond you gathered the broken pieces of your desire and turned around to head back into the building. Tears stinging your eyes as they slowly start forming and blurring your vision.

Matt was woozy with feelings. He caught your slipping arms and pulled you into his chest while his free hand tilted your jaw towards his face. He leaned in, head empty without a thought but you, and kissed you. You were too stunned to respond. He pulled back, shame flooding through his body.

"Matt, why? I- did you just kiss me?" you smacked yourself mentally for asking an obvious question.

"I'm sorry, I should've asked before I did. I just- it's...You've been distant lately and I'm sorry. I-"

"Do that again." You cut short his nervous blabbering and leaned your forehead on his. He wasn't indifferent. He liked you, too. And that small kiss burned all your worries away and boosted some confidence within.

Matt was processing everything that had just happened. He placed his lips on yours, again, and as his brain put the pieces together, he kissed you. His kiss was deep, trying to make up for the lost opportunities.

You kissed him back, humming into his mouth. His lips were warm and soft. They were plump in the city's cold night winds. You could taste a tinge of his whiskey in your mouth when he deepened the kiss.

Your arms locked themselves behind his head, hands running through his fluffy hair. Matt pulled you in by your waist, slightly purring into your mouth as your fingers scratched his scalp. His palm was caging your jaw in his hand, angling your face properly to taste more of you. His thumb drew small circles on your cheek and you felt yourself melting away in his embrace.

You pulled back from each other to gasp for air. A shy smile was tattooed on your lips as you looked at Matt returning the same expression. You stood there, forehead to forehead, silently giggling.

"I wish I had done that sooner." Matt broke the silence and chuckled.

"You should've but don't worry anymore, you can kiss me anytime you want to, now." you finished your sentence with an affirming kiss on the tip of Matt's nose. His face was flushed pink and the crinkles around his eyes added more beauty to him. He kissed you once more, twice, thrice before he finally let go of you. You gave him one last peck on his nose before you walked into your building. You glanced back to see Matt's blushing face smiling and looking toward you, the yellow streetlight making his features twinkle.

Gods, how is he so beautiful?

If oxygen wasn't such a necessity you both would spend an eternity in the throne of your lips feasting on the warmth you gave each other.

Thankyou for reading my Matt-thots <3

My asks are open. Send me your Matt-thots or use this prompt list for inspiration!

Tag List: @matt-erialgirl @shedaresthedevil @star-spangled-man @mindidjarin @e-dubbc11 @sobachka-korol @1800-fight-me @alrighty-matty @mattmurdockspainkink @elgrandeavocados @minxsblog @mattmurdocksdumpy @dropsofprecipitation @lovelywebber @phoebe-danvers

[poisonouswritings]

p

pegging Sage Lesath

just,, just fuck him up

fuck him into the bed til his brain's completely blank and he's drooling all over the sheets

Big ol intimidating dangerous cat mercenary man begging you to fuck him harder and babbling about how good your cock feels slamming into him

ur smaller and weaker? Magic.

Magic that can make him paper light,,, lifting his hips off the bed,,, urk oup I'm not normal

Do I just wanna see him ragdolled around? yes perhaps

now don't mind me, I'm just summersaulting back into my degenerate hidey hole

Reg get out of your hidey hole and come face your degenerate-ness head-on

GN!Reader, the whole post is NSFW (obviously) but the actual sex starts further down so that's where I'll be putting the readmore, depictions of rough sex, sex toys, little bit of aheago, lot of comfort towards the end, Reg I want you to know my mom walked in on me while I was writing this and I had to fucking sit there and have a conversation while praying she didn't ask to see my computer screen

Sage has had,,, a rough day today. He doesn't wanna talk too much about it. In fact it's only because of Tulsi that you know what happened, and even she doesn't have the full picture; Sage was in the forge with her goofing off and being a nuisance, someone who recognized Sage walked in, made some comment about him being 'exactly the same as before', and left. Then Sage got real quiet and upset and left a couple minutes later.

Normally he'd go to a bar when he felt like this but his favorites are all closed for fumigation or maintenance or whatever. So. Here he is. Sulking in your bed. You try to coax him into talking a bit more about it but he just keeps saying it doesn't matter, even though it clearly does.

You sit in bed with him for a minute, scritching behind his ears until he gives a reluctant purr. Then you lean down and kiss his forehead and say there are other ways besides alcohol to shut your brain off for a while.

Like sex.

At first he laughs. Not unkindly or anything! It's just that he's had a lot of sex over the years and he's never gotten that blank-ness you're talking about, not without a lot of alcohol. You're welcome to do your best (more than welcome in fact, he'd love to see you try) but you shouldn't get your hopes up.

:)

You tell him to give you an hour to prep. He agrees and nuzzles into your pillows for a nap. Being surrounded by your scent is comforting and lulls him to sleep pretty fast.

Meanwhile you go over to Felix's study and ask him for a strength potion and a stamina potion. And then ask him to teach you the ward to soundproof a room

:)

Oh and if he can help you pull something out of the Void

:)

Once you've got all your proverbial ducks in a row you head back over to your room. The wards you placed shimmer softly before sinking into the wood of your door.

Good. Now you can have as much fun as you want.

When you go back inside Sage is still sleeping. You keep your footsteps light and gentle as you practically float around the room, grabbing the full-length mirror and propping it up against the dresser that's across from the bed. Then you down your potions. Energy shoots through you, making your whole body feel like it's tingling.

You crawl onto the bed next to Sage, just watching him for a moment. His brows are furrowed. Must still be bothered from earlier. You lean down and kiss his forehead, softly scratching behind his ears. It takes a second for him to start purring. When you pull away to look down at him, his amber eyes are half-open and focused on you. He smiles softly and tilts his head into your hand as his tail winds around your thigh.

You always make him feel better. You know that, right?

Once he's fully awake - and boy does he take his time stretching out - he asks you what exactly it is you have in mind.

:)

A couple minutes later (after you've both undressed) he's panting and balling the sheets into his fists,, his moans are a low growl in his chest as his cock throbs in your mouth,, his eyes are half-lidded as he looks down at where you're bobbing your head up and down his stiff shaft, working your lubed-up fingers in and out of his ass to get him stretched out, adding a second and third once he seems ready to take it. As you coax him closer and closer to the edge, he squirms more and more. You finally pull off his shaft with a pop! and smile sweetly. Aw, does your little kitty cat feel good? :) He does? :)

You crawl up his body and smooch his forehead, scratching behind his ears. You can see the way his eyes go hazy with pleasure. His mouth is a little open as he pants for air.

Not quite desperate enough yet.

You kiss the underside of his chin. He purrs and lolls his head back, baring his neck for you to have free reign. You rest one hand on his chest, feeling his heart hammering against your palm. And your other hand works some lube onto your cock

Cock or strap-on or whatever it is you're wearing. Reg mentioned having it be something from Bad Dragon and I leave you all the website to look through. Anyways I'll be using the terms cock/dick/etc. but it's whatever you want it to be

Once you're pretty decently lubed up, you press the head of your cock against his ass. By now his neck and shoulder is littered with hickeys and he's deeply flushed, drooling just a little as he looks up at you. His soft tail slips around the base of your cock, shifting back and forth and tickling you a little.

Awww :( little kitty is all excited :( baby boy wants to get dicked down, huh? :(

His glare might be more impactful if his hands weren't holding your hips and trying to pull you closer. So you laugh and smooch the tip of his nose and slowly slide into him. His eyes flutter, then squeeze shut, a low growl rumbling through his chest that turns to a pleased purr when you placatingly kiss the underside of his jaw.

For a couple minutes you focus on getting into a decent rhythm. You can tell he's getting impatient, wiggling around and making little noises. When he catches your eyes he grins and says that, hey, you can go a little harder ;3 he can take it ;3

Okay then :)

Cut to ten minutes later when his knees are shoved into his chest and you're absolutely fucking reaming him. His hands are pinned to the bed on either side of his head, your fingers interlocked. The stamina potion means you can really pound away at him. The tip of his tail is going crazy against your lower stomach and the tops of your thighs. His head is thrown back into the pillows, back arched, throat bobbing with each gasp and cry. As expected of him, he doesn't stop talking.

Most of it is disjointed babbles, begging you to not stop, go harder, oh fuck he loves you so much, you fuck him so so so good, you're gonna make him cum, oh gods you feel so fucking good inside him

But you aren't done with him yet, are you?

Thanks to the strength potion, you can basically lift Sage around like a ragdoll. So you've picked him up and settled him in your lap. Gripping his hips and guiding him up and down your cock. His pretty silver hair sticks to his forehead and clings to the sides of his neck as sweat trickles down his body. You squeeze his sides, thrusting your hips up into him. Hard. Pretty kitty looks so good bouncing on your cock like that :) Is he having fun? :) Aw, he can moan louder than that, can't he? Of course he can. He's your good little boy :) Your pretty little slut, melting all over your cock :)

His eyes are dark and hazy, pupils blown wide in pleasure. He's drooling. His hands try to grab your shoulders - whether to anchor himself or just to hold you close, you're not sure - but the strength is just sapped out of him with every thrust you give.

His words are spaced out by gasps and moans and whimpers. It just... feels so... ffffuuuuuuuck feels so good... so deep... so...

But you don't quite have him in that state you want. Not yet.

Now you have him on his hands and knees. By which I mean he's almost limp and you're holding his hips up and that's the only reason he's not faceplanted into the mattress. He's a frazzled mess. You were gracious enough to give him a pillow to bite into but he's mostly just drooling into it.

You rub the tip of your cock against his hole, lazily teasing him. Does your kitty cat want some more? Hm? You thread your fingers through his hair, carefully grabbing from the roots, and pull his head up until you can see his pretty face in the reflection of that mirror you propped up earlier.

If you're significantly smaller than him then the reflection is probably a little bit funny. If he had his wits about him he might laugh. But you've done a great job of fucking his brains right out of his fluffy ears. You kiss his neck, then his cheek. Let the tip of your cock enter him. He tries to push his hips back against you but you hold him in place. If he wants it, then he better beg for it :)

To his credit, he tries. But he's more or less lost the ability to speak. He whimpers and purrs and whines and shifts his tail around the base of your cock but he just can't form any actual words. When he tries, he's slurring so much it's entirely illegible.

You smile and nuzzle into the crook of his neck, leaving a few little smooches and nips along his flushed skin. :) Aw, your cute little kitty feels so good that he forgot how to people-speak, huh? :) Well that's okay :) He doesn't need to know that :) He just needs to keep being a good boy for you :) You kiss his cheek and he purrs as you ease back inside him, settling back into your rhythm. You can pull his hair a little more and make him arch his back (kitty cat is very flexible y'know) so you can kiss the top of his head and that makes him very soft.

And then you get right back into pounding him into oblivion. It only takes a couple minutes before he practically yowls and tightens around you so much it nearly hurts and then he's blowing his load all over the sheets. Probably the last load of several, if we're being honest.

He finally collapses back against you, all the strength completely drained from him. His tail finally unravels from around you He lets out a final little whimper when you pull out of him.

It takes a little bit of time to clean the both of you up, not to mention the bed. Luckily your stamina potion is still burning - albeit on embers - so you're able to do most of the cleanup and get some water. Then you crawl into bed and drag Sage over, guiding his head onto your chest so you have full access to his ears. He slips his arms around your waist and lets his eyes close, purring lowly. And with each little kiss and nuzzle and sweet praise you mumble to him - he did such a good job, you're so proud of him, you love him so so much - the tighter he hugs you.

He sniffles a few times. It's been a rough day for him. And when you make him feel all warm and cherished like this, it's hard to hold himself together. You ask him if he wants to talk about what happened earlier and, still a little cum-drunk, he agrees.

He doesn't like the idea that he's the same person he was five years ago - the same person that abandoned his friends and sister, that killed his best friend, that never would have appreciated someone like you.

You know how much he loves you, right?

You smile softly and stroke his hair, covering his face with kisses. You know he loves you. And he knows how much you love him, right? He hugs you tight and nods sleepily. His tail curls around your knee.

And under your petting and stroking and praise and kisses, he gradually falls asleep, purring softly.

,,,, I mean he has super-healing but I like bullying him so I'm gonna say he walks with a bit of a limp the next day. Felix jokingly asked how hard you went on him and you just smile and sip your tea while Sage beams because he's so proud of you! You really did wreck him. And any time you wanna go again, he's more than ready for it ;)

[tulsa-trash]

We Belong Together

Request: Can you do one where Johnny is cuddling with y/n and they ask what he sees in them, then he tells them how much he loves them?

WARNING(S): Mentions of abuse It was a cool summer night, and by far one of the best nights you've had in a long time. The lighting in your bedroom was dim, you had your window cracked open to let in a small breeze. The temperature earlier that day was excruciatingly hot, but now that the sun was down it was perfect. The record player on your nightstand was playing "We Belong Together" by Richie Valens. You and your best friend Johnny were huge fans of the singer, so you figured it was appropriate you play one of his records while John was over.

You're mine And we belong together You were laying in your bed with Johnny's sleeping figure on top of you, he was in between your legs with his arms wrapped around your torso. You softly hummed along to the lyrics while your fingers raked through his raven locks, a permanent blush tainted your cheeks due to how close the both of you were in the moment. His warm cheek was pressed against your collar bone as small snores escaped past his lips, he looked relaxed for once. You had known Johnny for quite a while, and you've cuddled with him multiple times before, but tonight just felt different.

Yes, we belong together For eternity You couldn't help but feel guilty for having such a good time, because the whole reason the boy was in your bed was because things got really bad at home again. Usually he goes to the lot or to the Curtis house at times like these, but this was the first time he ever showed up at your house in the middle of the night. You weren't clueless about the abuse he faced at home, if anything you spent most of your time worrying about him whenever he wasn't around. Thoughts of Johnny clouded your mind more often than you'd like to admit, which almost felt wrong because you knew that "normal" friends don't constantly think about how handsome their other friends are. The feelings you had for him were more, you finally came to terms with that, but the last thing you wanted to do was spring something like that on him while he was sobbing in your arms. Needless to say, waking up to see his broken expression staring back at you through your window ripped your heart into shreds.

You're mine Your lips belong to me You closed your eyes and breathed in deeply, savoring the moment as much as humanly possible. If only the both of you could just stay here locked away in your room forever. "Yes, they belong to only me." You sang quietly, one of your hands moved down from his hair to his back to rub his shoulders. "For eternity." A low groan erupted from the sleeping boy as he began to stir in his sleep. You immediately removed your hands from him and laid them by your sides awkwardly, afraid you had made him feel uncomfortable. "Mmm..." Johnny hummed He lazily lifted his head from your chest to look up at you. A smile tugged at your lips upon the sight of his messy hair and half-asleep state. He was an angel. "Why'd you stop?" He asked, his voice sounding foreign to you. It was deeper and scratchier than usual, it sent shivers down your spine. "S-Stop what?" "You was rubbin' my head." He grumbled before burying his face in your neck. "It felt nice." "Oh." Your hands shakily returned to massage his scalp, Johnny let out a content sigh. The feeling of his breath fanning your neck sent goosebumps flooding over your skin. You're my, my baby And you'll al-al-always be "I'm sorry if my god awful singin' in your ear woke you up." You joked. Johnny let out a breathy laugh, "You didn't wake me, doll." Doll, such a simple nickname yet you yearned for it to have a significant meaning behind it. "Okay." You whispered. I swear by everything I own You'll always, always be mine 'Oh if only it were that easy, Richie.' You thought to yourself. "You okay?" "Hm?" "You alright?" He asked you again. You laughed, "I think I'm the one thats supposed to be askin' you that. Don't worry about me, John. You got enough stress as it is." His arms untangled themselves from around you and moved underneath your pillow, it felt like he was cradling your head in his hands. You were now running your fingertips up and down his back, lightly dragging your nails every now and then. "I always worry about you." He admitted. Your heart was doing summersaults in your chest at this point. Why was every little gesture-- every word affecting you as much as it did? He wasn't making this easy at all. You mentally cursed at yourself as tears began to prick your eyes, you hastily blinked them away.

You're mine And we belong together "Johnny." "Yeah?" "What... What do you see in me?" You regretted your words as soon as they left your mouth. Your hands unintentionally stopped running along his back and you could've sworn you felt him tense up. The both of you silently embraced each other while your question hung heavy in the air. As more seconds passed your anxiety sky rocketed, all you could think about was the possibility that you just ruined your relationship with your best friend. You cleared your throat nervously, "Uh, never mind. Forget I said anything." "Well... I see a good friend." He finally answered. Your heart dropped into your ass at his statement. Jesus christ, the friend zone-- "I care about you a lot." He continued. "You've done a lot for me and you're one of the best people... if not the best person in my life." Yes, we belong together For eternity The song ended, now the room was really quiet. Once he realized you weren't saying anything he propped himself up to look at you. He could immediately tell by the look on your face that something was bothering you. "Hey..." He was fully sat up in between your legs now, "Whats the matter?" By now you were even more upset due to him pulling away, you just wanted to hold him a little bit longer before he went away. You hated yourself for even saying anything. Your brain wracked for any excuse you could use but it was no use, it was too late to take it back and you couldn't lie to him. "I love you." You admitted. His eyes softened as he looked down at you, you looked absolutely horrified. Before he could even respond you spoke again. "I don't mean as friends either..." Your eyes averted his gaze. "It's okay if you don't feel the same, I won't be weird about it or anythin'." He shook his head and snickered, "You didn't even let me answer you, honey." "Honey?" "Y/N." He smirked at you, making you roll your eyes. He was definitely getting a kick out of your embarrassment, yet you almost don't even mind because it seemed to be cheering him up. "I love you too." Your eyes widened in pure shock, you could've sworn your ears were playing tricks on you. "I love you." He continued. "You are my best friend, you make me happy, and I don't know where I'd be if I didn't have you in my life." You didn't even notice you started crying until he swiped under your eyes with the pad of his thumbs. "Are you sure you're not just sayin' that cuz you feel bad?" You sniffled. "Oh stop it." He leaned forward and placed a soft kiss on the corner of your mouth, you were still so shocked you couldn't even reciprocate the kiss. He laid back down, only this time he was on the side of you and he pulled you against him so that he was spooning you. You felt him place another kiss on the back of your head. "I love you." He told you again. "I love you too." You murmured in disbelief. He paused for a moment, as if he was debating the next thing he was going to say. If you didn't know any better you would think he fell asleep, but you could tell he was awake just by his breathing. "You're my girl, right?" His voice was so small you almost didn't hear him. Butterflies were in an absolute frenzy in your stomach. If this was a dream, you certainly wouldn't mind if you never woke up. The feeling of Johnny's finger rubbing soothing circles on your hip reminded you that this was in fact real. "Of course."

[bellsanthia579]

Hello! Can I ask for a reader having feelings to yandere boy when they were at high school? They were about to discard their feeling for him not until Yandere boy confessed to them first! It's like a fluff situation on an empty classroom, let's just say that reader was told by a teacher to get some materials on the classroom and that's where the confession took place! and reader crying because of Yan!boy unexpected confession

Thank you in advance!

That's it! I have to stop! These feelings are wrecking my life. I can't sleep, focus, or eat during lunch. He doesn't even reciprocate. He doesn't know me... That's what ran through your brain as you completed the mission. "Go get extra materials Y/N!" You mocked behind your teeth. You rounded the hallway and cracked the library door. You scanned the room for teachers or admin who could help with what you needed. But there was no one.

You walked up to the desk. Hoping there might be someone in the back office. When all of a sudden, something tapped your shoulder. "Hey, Y/N." Slowly, you turned, for you'd recognize his voice anywhere.

"Hey." He looked down and smiled softly.

"Do you need help finding something?"

"Oh. Uuuum. I need extra pens for Mr. Yokusaba." He chuckled.

"He always runs out of pens! I swear it's like he eats them or something!" For a guy whom had never talked about you before, he sure seemed friendly. He walked over to the office door and motioned you to follow. "Come on. I'll help you look."

The office was dark, all but a slight light from outside the door. We fumbled around the dark room trying to find a box of pens, but with no luck.

"Thanks for helping me look." You spoke awkwardly. "Guess I'll try the office." You turned around to leave, but the man before you grabbed your hand. He let go quickly after his action.

"y/n." He mumbled. "I've been meaning to say this for a long time.... I've been watching you. How you act around different people, and all your mannerisms. I like you. A lot. And it would make me really happy if you would let me take you on a date."

Your heart sank, your stomach did summersaults, and you felt the tears Begin to well within you. He quickly grabbed your hands and brought them to his chest. "I'm so sorry. I didn't mean you upset you."

"No...I'm not upset." The tear began pouring down your cheeks" I've been feeling the same way, but I didn't know if I should tell you. Your re way out of my league an-"

"No." He reassured you as he wiped the tears from your eyes. "Beautiful, you are the most caring and sweetest person I know. I am honored that you fell for someone like me."

Y/N L/N, PLEASE REPORT TO MR. HILL IMMEDIATELY.

"haha. Mr. Hill must not trust you to be gone this long. You may wanna run! ... Are you free this afternoon? I'd love to take you somewhere. There is this really special bookstore/coffee shop I really like. If you'd b interested?"Your heart began to race.

"I would love too."

"Great! It's a date." He began to walk away. " Oh! And hey. Come with an empty stomach. He winked. You stood in awe at what had just happened trying to figure out if you were dreaming. After pinching yourself, you putted back to class with a grin on your face.

[yee-fxcking-haw]

•Porcelain Obsession•

Summary: Tamaki has a problem, a bad problem. He's obsessed, he's desperate, and he'll do whatever it takes to have you the way he wants you.

Pairing: Pro Hero Yandere Tamaki Amajiki x Reader (both 18+)

Warnings: Yandere, stalking, noncon voyeurism, mild manipulation and sabotage, mild coercive behavior, male masturbation, panty theft, male ejaculation, cum eating. It's just real graphic, strap in.

A/N: I am hopeless, this will have a second part that will be so much more sinful with gratuitous tentacle content. Just tagged those that interacted with the posted about this fic as usual. This little series was inspire by a tiktok I saw, and I'm literally writing it for the sake of putting one zinger of line in it lol.

Playlist

https://vm.tiktok.com/ZMJbubhQN/

Word Count: 4,184

Part Two: Love Me Tender

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Stunning, astounding, enchanting. You're an angel, you have to be. That's the only explanation for the way you shine, surrounded by some ethereal glow.

Tamaki Amajiki has a problem. No, it's not a problem, it's completely normal to fall in love, he's under a spell. He can't be blamed for it, he never stood a chance. Although, most people would call this a problem, but only people who don't understand.

An ignorant person would have seen him watching you from around the corner for weeks, following you to your house after work under the cover of darkness, and finally, finally getting a glance into your window at night and label him as obsessed or disturbed. He should have felt dirty for that, but he didn't, not even close. He felt almost holy.

He felt like some chosen follower that was allowed to witness a sacred ritual. He watched you all evening with immeasurable reverence. He took note of the way you ate, how intently you read, but his favorite part was watching you settle into your bed and fall asleep.

As soon as he saw it the first time, it became an addiction. Watching your body curl around your pillow, clutching the fabric as you snuggled into it. How sweet you looked, so soft, so innocent. It made his chest ache, it made him feel starved. He had to have you, smell you, feel you.

That was nearly three months ago. Now, he watches you every chance he gets. The days he doesn't get to, he feels like a pitiful addict going through withdrawal. He has to at least speak with you, know your voice, see your skin up close.

During his patrol around the city he comes to the conclusion that it has to be today. He feels like he's losing breath without knowing you, captured by your existence but suffocated by the distance. He will have you, he will do whatever it takes.

°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°

At your age, you should at least have a friend or two, maybe go out on friday, possibly even work another job. None of that ever seems worth it, not worth the time or the money or the effort to pretend you enjoy it. Here you stay, stuck somewhere in between discontent for your situation and the refusal to do anything about it.

You only have a half hour left of your shift, everyone else has gone home and you’ve been left to do dishes and lock up, as usual. You huff and puff around the shop as you complete the final closing tasks. Anybody else could have stayed and closed, they probably should have too, considering how often you shut down by yourself so they can all go home.

Naturally, you jumped at the opportunity to stay late, where else are you going to go? Certainly not on a date or out with friends. You feel slightly better about making money while you burn the hours away, so you always end up here.

The sun has set already, leaving the illumination of the shop to the awful fluorescent lights that hang from the ceiling. It’s all so mundane, so simple, so dreadfully boring.

Then the bell above the door jingles.

You roll your eyes and throw your rag into the sink, the sign says closed. Why don’t people read? You huff out of the kitchen and into the serving area.

“Hey, sorry but we’re closed right now, we open again tomorrow-” You freeze, it can’t be him, it has to be some cosplayer, some wannabe.

“I’m sorry, I just- my phone died while I was on patrol and I needed to call my boss to let them know I was finished for the day. I was hoping there would be a phone in here that I could use.” His voice is so timid, so unsteady. It doesn’t sound anything like you would imagine the voice of a pro hero to sound.

You try to stay uninvolved with any hero business, all of the flashy quirks and the gossip and the drama. The theater of it bores you to tears, and you lack respect for anyone that uses their ability to save lives as a tool for gaining popularity. You find most heroes to be so incredibly irritating. Most of them, except one.

Suneater, the emerging pro hero that has been the focus of all of your thoughts lately. You've only seen glimpses of him in the news, seen his face on the back page of a magazine, or heard his name from other people. Any evidence of his existence rapidly became precious to you. You are not some hopeless fangirl, you do not collect merchandise or follow him around and beg for autographs.

You admire him, his subtlety, how genuinely different he is from all the other heroes. He isn’t some attention whore, he isn’t some pretty boy that’s always posing for fan service. His quirk is so unique and powerful, unparalleled by any hero on the charts right now. He’s a real hero, and so much of you wanted him to be your hero.

There he stands, right in front of you, in your shop, asking you for help. He’s far more beautiful than you could have possibly anticipated. He’s all porcelain skin and inky hair, deep indigo eyes pear out from under his magnificent hood. He stands so tall, yet comes across so reserved. He’s spectacular, he’s an angel, he has to be.

“Of- of course, it’s in the back, follow me.” You say, motioning for him to come around the corner with you as you tuck back into the kitchen.

“Thank you, this is very kind of you.” He says as he follows, cape swishing behind him as he moves. You don’t know, you can’t possibly know, how badly he wants to take you into his arms and finally know what your body feels like against his, how he wants to bury his face in your hair and inhale your scent. If he could get away with it, he would, oh how he would feel every inch of you. He can’t though, not yet. He has to be careful, he has to be smart.

I will have her, and she’ll have me.

“It’s no problem, it sucks to be stuck without a phone. I’m happy to help.” You say as you round the corner to your shop’s makeshift break room.

It’s not even a room really, just a corner tucked away with a phone on the wall and a few chairs around a cheap foldable table.

You turn to him and motion to the phone awkwardly, heat settling in your chest and all over your skin. Your heart races and you can feel your palms turning wet.

“Take as much time as you need, did you uh- are you hungry?” You ask, “I’m technically closed, but I can only imagine how hungry you are after a whole day patrolling, I could throw something together for you?”

God, you’re so sweet.

“Oh no, you d-don’t need to do that, I can eat at home.” He insists, your mind fixates on the way he stutters, the way his eyes dart down and his feet shift as he talks.

“I would like to. Please? If you’ll let me?” You say softly, heart pounding even faster when he shifts towards you slightly.

How perfect you are, already asking for permission…

“Are you sure, I really don’t want to create more work for you.” He says, eyes flicking up to meet yours. His gaze makes it hard to swallow, he looks at you so intently, you almost feel like you don’t have enough clothing on.

“No! I promise you won’t be. You’d also be missing out on the best takoyaki around if you didn’t let me, and that would be a tragedy.” You say, trying to entice him with your bold claim.

“Well I g-guess, if you put it that way.” He offers you a trace of a smile.

“I’ll get started while you make your call.” You say as you move to squeeze past him in the narrow hall. As you slide by, there’s a brief, precious moment where you stand inches from each other. You don’t dare look up at him as you skate by, You know your legs will fail you if you meet his eyes while standing so close, and you can’t risk the embarrassment of dropping to your knees in front of a stranger, even if he is a hero,

He doesn’t say a word, simple stalks towards the phone as you glide down the rest of the hallway and into the kitchen.

You slip into autopilot in the kitchen, your brain is far too fixated on the fact that Suneater is down the hall, in your shop, using your phone. You clink around some pans, prepare the octopus meat and the batter and get to work. You can’t overhear him talking to anyone with all the noise you’re making, you almost want to apologize for being so noisy.

Your mind settles on thinking about how beautiful he is, how strong he looks, how easily he could overpower anyone… especially you. The thought makes you squeeze your thighs together, it shouldn’t, but holy hell it does.

Out of the corner of your eye you see him come into the kitchen, you immediately start to berate yourself for thinking that way about him. He’s a hero, he would never be interested in something like that with someone like you.

“I think the phone is down, do you maybe have a- a cell phone i could use?” He seems almost ashamed of the question, it makes your chest ache.

“Shit, that line is always being funny. I’m sorry, but I left my cell this morning.” You say, flipping the takoyaki around in their tray so they’ll cook evenly.

“I live just across the street though, I can run and grab it while you eat.” You say, desperate to help him in any way you can.

I know you’re just across the street.

He just shakes his head and bunches his cape in his fists, a very faint blush spreads across his cheeks and it makes your heart do summersaults.

“I couldn’t ask you to do that, you’re already doing t-too much for me. You don’t need to make the extra t-trip, I can just call my boss when I’m home”

“Really, it’s not too much, if you’re worried about the extra trip you can just walk me home and use it when we get there. I imagine you would need to call as quickly as possible and get somebody on patrol now that you’re off.” You say, catching yourself a little when you sound too desperate.

“Are you sure? I don’t want to make you uncomfortable?” As he talks, he shuffles so he can press himself up into the corner of the kitchen, almost looking like he wants to melt into the wall.

“Well, considering your occupation is literally saving people, I definitely don’t feel uncomfortable, it’s not like you’re some crazy kidnapper.” You chuckle a little as you plate up the takoyaki. You try not to give attention to the twisted thoughts that enter your mind when you mention the kidnapping, pushing down the desire to be taken away from the colorless life you live.

If you only knew how badly I want to take you, to have you, keep you…

“I guess you have a p-point.” He says, taking the plate with a soft thank you. He starts stuffing his face with the spheres of breaded octopus immediately, letting a small content sigh leave his body.

“This is incredible, thank you, um, can I ask what your n-name is?” That damn stutter is going to turn your bones to jelly.

You say your name quietly, he responds by repeating it back to you, like he’s checking the pronunciation. You just nod as you open the fridge and pull out a gallon of green tea so you can pour him a glass.

“T-Tamaki, my name’s Tamaki Amajiki.” He says with his shy voice.

A warm, invasive feeling spreads through you. You have to remain calm, pretend that his real name is news to you, pretend that you haven’t spent hours searching through fanfictions listed under that name.

You chat as he finishes his food, thanking him as he mumbles compliments about you cooking in between bites. It doesn’t take long for him to take down the plate. He thanks you over and over as you clean the rest up. He stays glued to his spot in the corner until you take your apron off and hang it on the rack with the others.

“Alright, let’s get you to that phone.” You say as you grab your keys off the hook and switch the lights off.

When you turn to look at him the breath is stolen from your lungs immediately. He looks so celestial in the dark, somehow glowing in the dark. He’s stunning, he’s perfect, he’s painfully out of your league. You remind yourself of that last fact in order to still your nerves.

You turn on your heels and walk towards the door as quickly as you can without seeming rushed. He follows silently, the heavy sound of his thick cloak floating around him makes the hair on your neck stand up. He even sounds powerful.

After you exit the building, he stands with his back to you as you lock the door. His stance is protective, surveying the streets around you like a real hero. You can’t let it go to your head, it’s not for you specifically, he would do this for anyone, it’s his job.

The walk to your house isn’t really uncomfortable, but it is tense. The energy between you is painfully obvious, just not to each other. You both want to speak, ask about each other, know each other, but neither has the guts to make the first move.

While you walk, Tamaki’s head is constantly on a swivel, and he stays so very close to you. It makes your chest ache, the feeling of being so safe next to such an intimidating man. Nobody would dare approach you with him next to you. You would damn near kill to have this all the time, if not all the time at least as often as possible.

You arrive at your house after not even two minutes of tension filled strolling. Silently, cautiously, you both enter your home after you unlock the door.

"It's so cozy." Tamaki says immediately upon seeing all of the soft lights and pastels that make up your decor. He’s nearly trembling with excitement from finally being able to see inside your little world. After watching from the outside for so long, he can finally learn more about you.

"Oh, thanks, I try to keep it soft looking in here. It helps me decompress after a day at a busy restaurant." You explain, setting your keys in their dish before leading him down the hallway to the kitchen.

The house is nothing special, a simple little single bedroom, one story with a relatively open floor plan. It’s small but easy to afford and keep clean. It works for you.

“I’ll go grab the phone from my room, feel free to sit down.” You say, gesturing at the two chairs on either side of your tiny breakfast nook.

He just nods quietly, taking small glances around the rest of your house. You find his hypervigilance charming. It makes you feel incredibly secure to know he’s so aware of his surroundings.

You walk off to your bedroom then, leaving him to stand in your dimly lit kitchen.

Instantly, his eyes zero in on the laundry basket full of clothes that’s sitting on your counter. His body moves without his mind’s permission, his heart thrums in his chest once he catches something pink and lacy.

He can’t help but think you’ve done it on purpose, like you’re some spider sitting up in your web waiting for a poor little bug to stumble along and get all caught up. He’s more than willing to be that bug, and so desperate to get caught up.

He grabs the fabric quickly, as it unravels in his hands he sees what it is and his breathing stops.

It’s a pair of underwear, your underwear.

His fingers go all twitchy as he shoves his hood off to expose his pointed ears, wanting to be able to hear your footsteps.

He brings the panties and takes a deep breath in.

They’re not clean.

He has to choke back the noise that threatens to escape when he finally smells the intoxicating aroma. You smell so fucking sweet. His body reacts instantaneously, goosebumps raise on his flesh as he’s dick twitches in his pants.

God he feels dirty, but why should he? You lead him in here, after cooking for him and being so kind. You left this little gift out for him, you had to know what you were doing.

The sound of soft footsteps jolts him back to reality. He shoves the underwear deep into one of his pockets, he’ll keep them as long as he can, preferably forever.

“Sorry it took me a minute, I’m constantly misplacing everything. One of those ‘lose my head if it wasn’t attached to me’ kind of people.” You give a half hearted laugh, which he returns with a cute little chuckle as he takes your phone.

“Oh sorry about the laundry, I’m a bit of a mess today.” Hot embarrassment fills you as you grab the basket of dirty clothes off the counter and hoist it onto your hip.

“Don’t be sorry, you weren’t expecting any visitors.” He assures you, voice soft and soothing.

“I’ll run this to my room and give you some privacy.” You say, turning once again to leave him alone.

As soon as you’re out of the room his shoulders drop and he lets out a quaking breath. Having you so close after filling his mind with your smell pushed him to the very limit. He wants to grab you and lay you out on the counter, rip your pants off and shove his face between your thighs. He wants to drown in every smell and taste you can offer him. He wants to gorge himself on your sweet little cunt.

He can’t think straight. He’s fully hard, his skin is boiling and his mind is fuzzy. He has to get out of here, he has to get to somewhere hidden, Somewhere he can fuck his fist and think of playing with your soft body. Maybe, just maybe, if he stuffs your panties in his mouth he can taste a trace of you.

When you return he says a very quick goodbye, says something about stopping by your shop again so he can see you again. He doesn’t know for sure what words he uses, he’s too focused on getting out before you notice his erection, before you smell the shame wafting off of him in thick waves.

He has to go before he makes a mistake, before he ruins all of his plans.

You follow him to the door to let him out, bidding him goodnight with your gentle, enchanting voice.

You’ll never know that the phone at the restaurant worked fine, that he never even had to call Fatgum. You’ll never know that he stole from you, that he almost lost it and took you home with him. You won’t ever know that he’s not going home now that he’s left your home.

Urgently, he swoops around the corner of your house, heading straight for your bedroom window. His pants feel so tight it’s maddening, he’s frantic, he’s slipping.

As soon as he reaches the bedroom window, his favorite window, he slumps against the building with one arm as the other shoots down to his pants. He takes a quick glance around, noting that the lights in the surrounding buildings are all out given the hour.

He should be safe.

Then you walk into your room, the image of you is distorted slightly by the white sheers you have up, but only slightly, only enough to make you look like some fuzzy apparition.

She uses these curtains on purpose, she wants me to see.

You have no interest in showering tonight, now exhausted and confused. Did you say something wrong? Why did he take off like that? He did say he would see you tomorrow, though, which gives you a bubbly feeling.

You strip your clothes off, and it shreds Tamaki’s last ounce of self control.

You little fucking tease.

You undress until you’re left in your simple white underwear.

Tamaki’s hand is in his pants the second you crawl into bed. He grabs his aching length, thumbing at his head as he watches you shuffle around in the blankets. His mouth waters when he sees your collar bones, his breath hitches when he sees the way your stomach rolls when you sit. He starts to stroke himself slowly when you leave one leg out of your blankets.

His chest rises and falls rapidly as he remembers the precious gift in his pocket.

He snatches the panties out as he watches you move, as he zeroes in on the meat of your thigh. He shoves the fabric of the crotch into his mouth and bites. He bites your panties like he wants to bite your delicious looking legs.

His hand jerks more rapidly as the faintest flavor spreads across his tongue. His cheeks are pink and his eyes start to tear up as he trembles from the euphoria of knowing you this intimately. His hips thrust into his fist as he claws at the panites, pulling the fabric tight as he watches you drift off to sleep.

His mind races through every possible way he would take you. How he would ruin and claim every inch of you. The idea of you shaking beneath him, moaning his name so sweetly, begging him to keep going, maybe begging him to stop, it makes him want to break down the window.

He tongues at your panties, wishing he could swallow your slick. He feels so unbelievably envious of the fact that the fabric in his mouth has been so close to your perfect little hole. The thing he wants to taste the most, feel the most, fuck the most.

His hand tightens around his dick as he tries to imagine how tight you would feel around him. He rips your panties out for just a brief second so he can spit down into his palm, wrapping it around his cock the second the spit reaches his skin.

“Shit- fuck- shit- fucking love you.” He chokes out as his eyes stay locked on your body.

Once the panties are back in his mouth, the free hand flattens against the window.

Then you shift, hips rolling gently as you adjust your position, exposing your cute little ass to him.

“Slut- bad little slut.” He huffs out as he claws at the window. He feels his balls start to seize up as he focuses on his swollen head, fucking it as fast as he can whle he imagines you with your head buried in the pillows as you stick your ass in the air for him.

He tears the panties out of his mouth and holds the crotch of them in front of his dick, drool slips over his bottom lip as he lets out a high, broken moan while he starts to spill into them.

His body quakes and shivers as he squirts rope after rope of hot cum into his stolen prize. Tears wet his cheeks while drool soaks his chin as he strokes himself through his climax.

He chants your name over and over again, watching the way his seed ruins your pretty little panties. In his orgasmic haze, he brings the panties back to his mouth full of his own release, he laps it up as he eyes roll to the back of his head, pretending he’s made you cream yourself, pretending he’s tasting you instead.

It’s filthy, it’s depraved, but he doesn’t care, he needs it, he’d die without it. He swallows the rest of his own cum down with a greedy whine as he watches your perfect form lay there so peacefully.

He doesn’t know how long he stands there, how many more times he fucks his hand while he watches you sleep, only to leave himself covered in sweat and cum and shame. Somehow, he finds himself walking away, as much as it hurts, he knows he can't indulge himself all night.

Once he’s finally home, he collapses, body buzzing and addicted. He sleeps with your soiled panties clutched in his fist. He wakes up with one thought on his mind, he needs more.