#it’s technically not a nude but just barely

[mousegirl-cheerleader]

Woo trans tummy Tuesday and tomboy Tuesday yippee

She/its have a nice day

[just-another-author-i-guess]

Ppppft!!! Elliot casually entering in Judd's room at the worst possible moments, yes please!! I like to think that Judd put all those signs in his door mainly because of his dad 🤣 Elliot and Diane embarrassing Judd is everything i need in this life, hopefully in front of his crush lol 😈

This has been stuck in my head literally the whole week— it’s too good not to write seriously 🤭

Tags: fem! Reader, mentions of sex? Like a lot of mentions, also masturbation, also cockblocking lol, but as I keep saying this is big mouth fanfic what do you expect, Nick and Jessi being jealous boggles my brain, it’s too funny, Elliot Birch is an actual menace, he also has no regards for privacy, it’s his house so he can enter whatever room he wants ig, author had way too much fun writing this

I based this on my first big mouth story, read it HERE

Author’s note: I’m cackling. I loved writing this so much omg— why is it funny tormenting the characters so much 🧍🏻‍♀️anyways, I did my best with Diane and Elliot’s dialogue,, but it’s hard lol. I hope you find it as funny to read as I did to write, and also, ig I kinda lied bc the third and fourth reason technically doesn’t have anything to do with people barging into Judd’s room. But he does get embarrassed, and I needed a good title, sue me. No but seriously, I hope you like this haha

Four (4) reasons why Judd has ‘keep out’ signs on his door

Word count; 4,7K

Reason one (1)

The air in Judd’s room was warm, and humid, and seemed to have stilled once the two of you collapsed on the bed, worn out from an intense round of fucking. 

He barely bothered covering himself, instead he threw you a somewhat sweaty shirt he had been wearing beforehand and pulled the covers up enough to just barely cover his hips. You accepted it with shaky hands and a worn out smile, almost purring as you slipped into the garment and burrowed yourself under his covers as well.

Between your legs, now resided a slowly cooling and increasingly sticky mess, still leaking from you as you turned in the bed. However, your boyfriend never made a move to get up and fetch a towel. He did reach out an inviting arm, though, urging you to scoot closer to him. You did so with a hazy look on your face, nuzzling into his neck and inhaling. 

You listened to his heart beat wildly, his blood bump and felt so, so content. You heard him relax as well, a deep, low, grunt of a sigh as he settled in, clearly as ready for a nap as you were. 

With the humidity and the stillness of everything, it was too easy to close your eyes and bask in the feeling of sleepiness. You were right there, on the sweet, blurry edge between sleep and consciousness when a series of rapid knocks broke through the silence.

Judd groaned, clearly on the cusp of sleep himself— voice even raspier than usual. Besides mumbling a few threatening words under his breath, he didn’t move to open the door or even care to call out to whoever was knocking. It would most likely be Nick, anyway, coming to bother you and he would set the world aflame before he let his stinky little brother see his girlfriend half naked. 

None of you even had time to register it, before the door rattled, opened and a much too cheery Dr. Birch stepped through. 

You froze— wide eyes searching Judd as the crease between his eyebrows became deeper and a murderous expression overtook his sleepy face. 

“Dad.” He rasped. “Get the hell out.”  He was quick to tuck the covers around you, especially your still very wet crotch and ass, completely disregarding the fact that he was butt naked himself. You shrieked as he suddenly rolled you in the sheets— grateful nonetheless as you came to face Elliot Birch, the man completely indifferent to the two of you and your nakedness. 

“Oh, my sweet Judd!” Mr. Birch exclaimed, ignoring how you both looked very much like you wanted him to leave. “How magnificent is it, that you feel comfortable sharing your nude self with me and Y/n?” 

He clasped both hands over his heart, dramatically, and Judd somehow turned even paler than he already was. He muttered something that sounded suspiciously like; “I am going to fucking murder you.” And darted for the floor where he had thrown his jeans. 

“Oh noo! No need to feel ashamed, Judd, I’ll take my pants off too!—“

“— no!” A choked out yell escaped you too quickly. Your face felt hot, and you didn’t have to look in a mirror to know that you were beat red by now. You did not need to see Judd’s dads bare ass after already already being embarrassed beyond belief. 

Dr. Birch chuckled and smiled warmly at you. “Setting your boundaries, I see. I’m so proud of you Y/n— my son has such a strong willed girlfriend!” 

Your cheeks burned. “Uh, right. Thank you, Dr. Birch,” 

“Call me Elliot!” 

Judd scoffed behind you, finally getting his pantless situation under control. “Fuck off, dad. Now. I mean it.” Even he was a bit too stunned to come up with a proper threat. 

Elliot sighed, smiling. “Oh, I will, I will! I’ll leave you two lovers alone in just a minute! I do have a little favour to ask you first, though, Juddy,” 

“What.” Judd deadpanned, the tips of his ears colouring slightly at the horrific nickname. 

“I have this tag still on the back of my shirt, you see, I would have taken it off before trying the shirt on, but now I appreciate it so much I didn’t want to take it off myself— Ah, it holds such good memories of this morning!” 

This morning in particular, Nick tried to hit on you and Judd threw a milk carton at him. 

Judd sighed, deeply, and looked a bit like a feral bull. “You are such a fucking pussy, dad.” He growled, but still walked towards his dad with intend to help. 

“Thank you! That is such a beautiful organ,” You kinda wanted to snicker, at the absurdity of the whole situation, but kept your mouth shut. Judd worked quickly, ripping out the tag and throwing it at his dad. 

“Why the hell didn’t you ask Nick?” Judd grit out, coming to sit on the edge of his bed by your feet. He put a protective, soothing hand on your leg under the covers. 

Dr. Birch laughed. “Because you’re so strong! And I love you, son,” 

Judd visibly clenched his jaw, you had no doubt that if this continued a vein would pop on his forehead. “I hate you.” He countered.

“And I validate that feeling! You have such a way with words, you should think about being a writer, don’t you think so too, Y/n?”

“Get the fuck out.” Judd snarled before you had to respond— thankfully. You smiled awkwardly at Mr. Birch, as if trying to confirm Judd’s words but in a much politer way. 

He smiled. “Alright, alright! Have fun, you two, and be safe!” He said over his shoulder, as if it wasn’t obvious that the two of you had just very much had your fun, and sauntered towards the door, closing it gently behind him.

Reason two (2)

Unfortunately for Judd, he didn’t have his own bathroom in the house, having to share two between his family.

Around the shower, was carefully placed a plethora of different pastel coloured shampoo and body washes— all of which belonged to Leah and smelled like a candy crush fever dream. Judd sorted through them roughly, pushing most of them over in his search to find the all-in-one and shampoo for dyed hair he usually used. 

As he showered, working the shampoo into his hair and revelling in the warm, steamy water spray, Maury appeared; ‘You’re taking a shower for Y/n, huh?’ The hormone monster drawled. He was bored; checking his nails as he made himself comfortable on the toilet outside the shower. 

Judd grunted. It was true, you would be over in a bit and he didn’t want to smell like the raccoons.  “Why are you here?” He demanded. 

The monster chuckled and held up his hands in defence. ‘It’s not my fault you can’t stop thinking about Y/n.. Ahh, remember last week when she sucked you off in the shower? Why’s she not doing that right now? Let’s call her,’ Suddenly Maury had Judd’s phone, and was waving it around. 

“Fuck you. Let me shower.” 

‘No, let’s fuck Y/n!’ Maury countered enthusiastically. ‘And besides, y’know that’s not how it works,’ He grinned mirthfully, slithering around the glass wall of the shower to point a long, clawed finger at Judd’s cock— sure enough it was rising to attention. ‘You gotta jerk off. C’mon, give me a good show!’ 

Judd could have punched Maury— and he had actually tried that before, just for the monster to disappear and reappear behind him with a smug look. So instead of drop kicking his hormone monster, he promptly ignored him and turned around to face the water spray. 

‘Nuh-uh,’ Maury grabbed him by the shoulders and turned him around— he shook the monster off with a deep growl. ‘Think about Y/n’s nice, biiig tits, ah~’ Maury shuddered, but continued. ‘Remember how they looked all wet, uhhh I bet she’d let you blow your load all over them next time,’ Maury was unrelenting, an increasingly deepening blush spread over Judd’s face and ears and he let out a strangled groan. 

“Shit, fine!” He hissed and the monster whooped in victory. 

Judd was quick to tip his head back and grab his dick with a closed fist. He sighed through gritted teeth as he got to work— swiftly and quite roughly pumping himself as Maury cheered him on. He closed his eyes and let his jaw go slack, imagining it was your hand around him and recalling the alluring noises you made whenever he was pleasuring you. 

His release build steadily, hand movements getting more frantic and his breath sped up. The spray of water only seemed to get hotter, and the steam in the room became more dense. He leaned forward— spreading his hand out on the wall in front of him to get a better angle, and keep his balance. Now his head hung low, and he panted open-mouthed as he tightened the grip around his cock and sped up his movements again. He was so close, just a few more pumps and— 

The bathroom door flew open and Judd all but jumped out of his own skin. He had locked the door when he first entered, right? 

‘Nooo..! Elliot, get the hell out!’ Maury yowled— appearing on the other side of the shower and trying to push out the intruder, who unfortunately was Judd’s dad. Elliot could neither see nor hear or feel the monster, so Maury’s punching and shaking left him completely unfazed as he continued further into the room.

Judd’s eyes shot open, slack mouth turning into a frightening scowl as he heard his dad sing to himself. Elliot sauntered about the bathroom— humming a song about lotion and browsing through the cabinets. 

“Don’t mind me, Juddy!” He yelled over the water, as if it was a most normal occurrence to walk in on your 18-year-old son taking a shower. 

Maury slithered back into the shower. ‘Let’s kill him. Now. And then we can tend to your little.. problem after,’ He suggested, glaring at Elliot’s shadow through the shower window. Luckily, it was steamy enough to only show silhouettes, so Judd could at least maintain a bit of dignity. 

Judd grunted and nodded in agreement, turning off the shower. “Get the fuck out,” He rumbled, low and threatening. 

“I can’t find my lotion anywhere! It makes my skin so soft— just the way your mother likes it,” Elliot tutted, completely ignoring Judd’s orders. 

“I’ll fucking skin you alive. Get out.” Judd repeated, this time raspier, raising his voice. The steam from the warm water was slowly dissolving— leaving the glass in the shower clear enough to reveal most of Elliot to Judd and vice versa. 

Elliot chuckled warmly. “You have such a poetic soul, son. It’s such a shame you don’t write more,” 

A cross between a deep growl and sigh escaped Elliot’s oldest son. “What the hell are you talking about.” Judd said, and though it sounded like a question he didn’t actually want to know the answer. 

Dr. Birch turned to his oldest, now fully visible behind the shower glass and said; “Your creative potential! Ohhh! You should write Y/n a love letter, she would love it—“ 

“— Fuck no.” 

Elliot’s eyebrows creased, and his facial expression turned earnest. “I know you’re very good at pleasing Y/n with your body—“

“—Dad, shut up—” Now Judd was really embarrassed, he had both hands covering his privates, but was still very much butt naked in front of his dad, a reality that didn’t fail to make a blush creep over his ears and cheeks. The fact that he was also still rock hard, didn’t help at all. 

“— But!” Elliot continued, pointedly ignoring Judd. “You should do something romantic for her! Something with your heart! You should always show a woman how much you love her, Judd,” He reminded, a gentle smile on his face as he watched his son grow increasingly embarrassed. 

“Okay. I don’t care. Get the fuck out.” Judd deadpanned. He had let his facade slip for just a brief moment— before covering his appalled expression up with a vicious glare. 

“Oh, but I still need my lotion—“

“— I’ll gut you and fill you with your fucking lotion if you don’t get out.” He snarled, strained and deep and his look made it clear it was definitely not up for debate. 

‘Boo! Get the fuck out, Elliot!’ Maury added in the background, throwing a shampoo bottle at the man. 

All he did was chuckle at the threat— shrugging his shoulders. “Alright, Juddy, I respect your boundaries. It’s important to acknowledge such things,” He smiled and relented his search for lotion. He continued humming obnoxiously, however, as he left and softly closed the door behind him. 

Reason three (3)

You gasped, puffy lips parting to make way for the eager sound. Judd had roughly thrown you on the couch, slotting himself between your legs and ferociously attacked your neck as soon as you had walked in the door.

Finally, finally, the two of you were alone— in fact, you had the whole house to yourself. Leah was out, Mr and Mrs Birch had taken Nick out for dinner which left you and Judd the perfect opportunity to fuck on the living room couch. And you barely got a saying (not that you minded) before Judd was putting that plan into action. 

Scrambling to put your hands under his shirt, you clumsily felt him up— lightly scratching at his abs just how you knew he liked it. He growled, heavy and husky and bit hard on your neck in retaliation. 

A strangled whine escaped you and you pulled at his shirt— you needed it off. You felt him grin against your throat, just the slightest twist of his mouth as he scraped his teeth against you. 

“Use your words, baby,” He breathed, cruelly dragging his teeth so slowly against your sensitive neck and grinding into you— so you could properly feel him. 

It was so unfair, he knew you’d have no chance of responding when he started palming at your tits, squeezing one in each hand. 

You tugged harder, pulling Judd closer to you in the process. “Off.” Was the only thing you were able to whine.

He licked a long stripe up your neck— tasting you to the best of his ability before he obeyed you. He sat on his knees between your legs, and you watched him with a flushed face as he pulled his shirt over his head and discarded it on the floor somewhere. 

Connie, who previously had been banned to the floor where she sat and watched the two of you intensely, stood up— her mouth dropped cartoonishly, hanging on the floor as her tongue lolled out. 

‘Sweet mother of jeebus! Look at those strong, delicious abs..! Lick them— c’mon lick them, hurry! Lick them till he’s all you can taste, sugarplum!’ She cried, and it wasn’t a question, it was a demand. 

You couldn’t help but oblige. You sat up, the way your legs were placed allowing you to straddle him and push him backwards on the couch. To your utter bamboozlement he let you, allowing you control for just a moment as a self-satisfied eyebrow-raise came to his face. 

Half sitting up, he now had the perfect position to ground up into you and you immediately lost what little control you had. Two large hands enclosed around your hips in a lock tight hold—starting a rhythm in which he could press your hips down on his. 

He kissed you then, a tingling feeling erupting in your lower stomach as you tasted the Jack Daniel’s on his tongue. He licked into your mouth with newfound fever, swallowing your desperate yelps and moans— one hand wandering from your hip to your shoulder where he started to push the strap of your tank-top down.

You arched your back, pressing into him, and he took the opportunity to roughly squeeze your ass. In retaliation, you reached a hand down— roughly squeezing his cock through his jeans. 

He groaned, a throaty, baritone sound. “You bitch..!” He cursed and then he was pulling your hair— suddenly pulling you back from his mouth with a harsh tug so he could position you in a way that allowed him to abuse your neck some more. 

He bit you so hard it was sure to leave marks, red and swollen bite marks that would sit on your neck for weeks like an obnoxious neon sign. You sighed and started working his belt—fighting to get it off so you could get your price quicker.

However, just as you were done popping the button on his jeans, the front door clicked and swung open. 

“No, dad! You’re embarrassing me—“

“— You used to love your father’s hugs, Nick, what’s wrong?”

“Nothings wrong, mom, but I’m a man now. I don’t want hugs.”

“Awww, please, Nicky. Let me give my little man a hug,” 

“No, dad, leave me a— Judd?” Nick walked further into the room, in an attempt to escape being coddled by his dad— but came face to face with you on top of his older brother instead. 

Judd’s grip on your hair immediately loosened, Connie cursed and tried to close the front door before Elliot and Diane could enter— you sat up, mortified and corrected the strap of your top back to your shoulder. 

“Nick.” Judd stated, barely bothering lifting his head to look at his brother. You, however, stared the tween down wide-eyed. “Fuck off, we’re busy.” He grunted. The very same sentence he said whenever Nick would brother the two of you in his room.

You watched as Nick’s fists clenched, his face going through multiple shades of red till it landed on an angry glare directed at his brother. “Judd, you're such a slut!” He yelled, voice crack audible and was that.. tears in his eyes?  

“Are you going to cry, you little prick?” Judd cackled— sitting upright all the way so his chest was pressed to yours. 

“Now, Nicky, what are you slut-shaming your brother for?” Dr. Birch waltzed through the front door along with his wife— as if this moment couldn’t get any worse. You moved to get off Judd, but when he grunted and held your hips down, you noticed he was indeed still incredibly hard and you would need to sit still, so as to not expose his boner to his family. 

You felt hot, too clammy as red colour spread from your chest all the way to your ears— like a kettle heating. 

‘Yeah, fuck this. Sorry, sweetheart, but I cannot deal with this today! You’re on your own!’ Connie patted your head, slowly backing away and into a portal that would take her to god-knows-where and throwing you a ‘peace out’ sign. Wow. Such support. 

“Look at what he’s doing to Y/n!” Nick accused, waving his arms at the two of you. 

You didn’t know it was possible, but Dr. Birch frowned, looking down at his son. “Now, Nicky, it’s never okay to slut-shame someone, especially not when you’re witnessing such a beautiful moment! Judd is just sharing an intimate moment with Y/n, nothing to be ashamed off,” 

Judd stiffened under you, he was tense, you were tense, both of you embarrassed beyond belief. Your ears burned bright red, horrified. 

Your boyfriend let out a warning growl. “Shut the hell up, dad—“ 

“— Oh, Y/n! It’s so good to see you!” Then it was Diane talking, she walked towards the two of you on the couch with a warm smile. You couldn’t bear to look her in the eyes— not when you were literally sitting on Judd’s boner, so instead you buried your head in his shoulder.

“Good to see you, too, Mrs. Birch..” You muttered, feeling Judd’s hands tighten around you. 

Diane tutted. “Oh, Y/n, no need to be embarrassed. I’m glad you both feel comfortable having sex under our roof, and you are more than welcome to,” 

It was an attempt to soothe you, yet it sounded so warped coming from your boyfriend's mom’s mouth. 

Judd heaved a long sigh. “We have.. shit to do. Leave.” He said, sounding equally as mortified as you felt. 

Mrs. Birch chuckled lightly. “We’ll be upstairs, Juddy. You two just enjoy yourself, and Y/n, please stay for dinner!” She hummed— you wanted to cry. 

You kept your head burrowed into Judd, listening as Mr and Mrs. Birch’s footsteps resounded towards the stairs, yet one pair of feet remained. 

“Get the fuck out, shitface.” Judd deadpanned. 

“I’m allowed to be here, it’s my house too!” Nick was defiant, pouting at his brother.

Judd’s jaw clenched— Nick would definitely come to regret this later. “You have a second to leave before I come over there and rip your beady eyes out, you fucking creep.” His voice was low and carnal and it was clear he meant business— that was no empty threat. 

Nick paled slightly, but before he could even begin to find the right response, Diane called from upstairs; “Nicholas Birch! Go to your room and leave your brother alone, now!”

At that, Nick complied immediately, secretly relieved to get a free ticket out of the situation before Judd would beat him to a pulp as he flew up the stairs.

Reason four (4)

You were sprawled out on Judd’s bed, a raccoon curled on your lap and Connie laying on her back by your feet. She was watching Judd intensely as he worked out— occasionally commenting on his grunts or groans as he lifted the heavy weights. 

You didn’t bother entertaining her, gently stroking the raccoon while scrolling on your phone. The animal chatted to you, small hands wavering about as it chittered. You thoroughly enjoyed moments like this, when you and your boyfriend could co-exist quietly and in peace. Judd was lying on the floor somewhere, having moved on from the weights to instead practise his pushups. The two of you would probably go out later, after the rather excruciating last few interactions you had with Judd’s parents, the two of you decided to skip dinner with them for the time being.

Your phone was hooked to Judd’s speaker, as he had graciously allowed you to play music for him while he worked out. The raccoon in your lap seemed to enjoy your taste in music as well- tail swaying softly to the baseline.

Catching your hormone monster from the corner of your eye, you saw how she stiffened and suddenly sat up. Her hairs stood up, ears turning down as she surveyed the room— she turned to say something to you, but right before the sounds escaped her, three shy knocks came to the door. 

Judd, who was now doing crunches, sat up fully to fix you a blank stare. He gestured towards the door with his head and raised eyebrows, you pouted but got up. The raccoon in your lap protested as you softly shooed it off— it scurried off under the bed to hide from whoever came to disturb you. Connie followed closely behind you, slinking after you like a shadow as you approached the door. 

Opening the door, you were already quite ready to fight off Nick or Mr. Birch, but what you didn’t expect, however, was your sister standing there and wringing her hands with a nervous expression.

“Uh, Jessi?” You didn’t even know she was here, actually you hadn’t seen her since yesterday evening when Judd picked you up from your dad’s.

Connie raised a hand to her face and pinched the bridge of her nose. ‘Oh sweet child..’  She muttered, studying your sister from over your shoulder.

Jessi took a step back, startled, when instead of her crush she came face to face with you in pyjama shorts and one of Judd’s shirts. You bend over a little, to be more on level with her. “What are you doing here? Do you need a lift home, or something?” 

She gaped at you, clearly losing track of whatever she was going to say. You watched, a bit concerned, as gears turned in her head. Then, you felt something, someone, else at your side. You wrinkled your nose as Judd came up besides you— his sweaty palm enclosing around your waist as he pulled you to him. 

You wanted to comment on it— tell him to shower before he got his sweat all over you, but he beat you to it; “Hey Y/n’s sister Jessi.” He grumbled, granting the tween a downwards glance. 

Jessi looked positively constipated, and also a bit like she was going to puke. You freed yourself from Judd— dropping to your knees and gently holding Jessi’s shoulder. “Jessi-bear, are you sick?” 

Connie followed you closely again, this time appearing behind your sister, clutching her closely and spreading a palm over her forehead to feel her temperature. ‘She’s down with a baaad case of Judd fever!’ The monster exclaimed, slightly shaking Jessi, whose blush had now risen from her neck all the way to her ears— colouring her face completely red. 

You sighed as your sister seemed to boot up again from her temporary lockdown. She quickly stepped back from you, and you realised she was holding something behind her hands. Connie noticed it too; ‘Aw Jessi.. So cute, but sad. Very, very sad. Actually kinda pathetic, you better let her down easy, Y/n, sugar.’ 

“I am not Jessi-bear! And I’m not sick! Just.. Just regular, old, fun, Jessi..” She waved you off, and you stood back up— slightly surprised by her outburst.

You tried, and failed, to hide your grin. Apparently, Judd thought your sister's awkward demeanour was funny as well. “Okay, regular, old, fun Jessi. What do you want?” He said, raising a brow at the flustered tween. 

She swallowed thickly, and you fixed Judd a glance that meant ‘don’t be mean’. He retaliated by shrugging and wrapping his arm around you again. Jessi’s blush somehow grew more vivid— she looked a bit like a cat on edge as she dared a glance up at your boyfriend. 

“I was just, y’know, strolling by–” Connie clasped a large paw over her mouth, shaking her again. ‘–Stop talking, baby! Stop talking!’ She howled, though Jessi didn’t seem to hear or even feel her. 

“This hallway has such interesting architecture, did you notice that?” She finished off, fiddling with whatever she had behind her back and making a point of staring at the ceiling instead of Judd. Your boyfriend in question only grunted, keeping his intense glare on Jessi. 

Sighing, you said; “It doesn’t. It’s a hallway. Look, if you need a lift home I’ll be ready in fifteen minutes, but shouldn’t you hang out with your friends or something instead? I’m sure Nick is looking for you,” You hinted, but all you got from Jessi was a vivid glare. 

“Yeah. Actually, you’re right. I was just dropping by, but I’m actually really, really busy, so..” She shifted on her feet, turning to leave and accidentally exposing you to the thing she had been holding. 

Judd’s eyebrows drew closer together, in a full on scowl. “Is that my shirt?”

You snorted. “Oh my god!” You stared at your sister in bewilderment, trying to decide whether it was funny, gross or awkward beyond belief; You settled on a good mix of both.

Immediately, the garment slipped from Jessi’s hands and she paled. “I-I-I found it like this! I just wanted to return it!” She could have puked, breathing speeding up as she fought off the hyperventilation and stared at the two of you with a horrified look that meant you had definitely caught her red-handed. 

“Are you stealing Judd’s shirts? I knew I had a bunch of them, did you seriously take them?” You asked, now mortified. Judd let out a series of low, cackling laughs as you watched your sister tear up. She opened and closed her mouth, fighting to say something but ultimately gave up— running off down the hall as you watched her retreating form with bewilderment. 

You’ve reached the bottom🧍🏻‍♀️thank you for reading this far, haha, I hope you enjoyed it. The last one was heavily inspired by that scene in the new season were Jessie walk in on Judd and his girlfriend(?), I just saw that and needed to write something similar

I’m now on my winter break, and I’ve got a lots of idea for Judd content for y’all this week so look out for that!

With this story, I literally need to add this meme; reblogged to me by @raccoon66

Thank you so much lol, it’s literally the best thing ever 🙏🙏

Tags: @dlfvrr , @bxbyyyjocelyn

[slut4thebroken]

Promise

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

Pairing | Neil Lewis x reader

Summary | He’s a perv and lowkey a bad friend lol

Warnings | Smut, technically non con, masturbating, objectification, degradation, misogyny?, perv neil (again).

Words | 1.5 k

Notes | Ty to whoever sent the ask for this 🙌 Also this is barely proofread btw

Ao3 link | <3

Masterlist

“Give me a sec, I need to finish getting dressed.” You said, with only your head in the frame. Your hair was still wet so you must have just gotten out of the shower. He smiled and watched your head disappear, listening to the sound of clothes rustling until you were finally sitting down in front of your computer. “Hi.” You said through a breath of exertion from rushing to get dressed. 

“Hi.” He chuckled, but it trailed off when he noticed your top. You were wearing a very tight, very low cut tank top and no bra— He knew because he could just barely see your nipples poking through the fabric. 

“How was your day?” You asked and he had to force his gaze to move back to your face, finding a small smile on your lips. 

“Same as always. Went to work, came home. Nothing new.” He shrugged. “What about you? You were telling me about something earlier over text,”

“Right..” You groaned, already getting annoyed again at just the reminder of it. “You know that one coworker I hate?” 

“Yeah.” He chuckled quietly. 

“Well, she was there today.” You said bitterly, then started droning on about what happened. Honestly, he couldn’t listen to a word you were saying. He was watching your tits through the screen as his cock started fattening up in his pants— In his defense though… he hasn’t touched himself in like.. two days. So it’s only natural he’d get worked up so easily— especially because it’s you. He palmed his bulge beneath the camera, being careful not to move his arm too much. 

He waited as long as he could… Honestly, he did. 

“Hang on, I gotta turn my camera off really quick. I’m still listening though.”

“Okay.” You said, thinking nothing of it. He turned the camera off and you continued talking, gesturing with your hands, making your tits move in a way that had his mouth watering. Unable to wait any longer, he pushed his pants and underwear down just enough to free his cock and immediately started stroking it. His eyes fluttered shut and he bit his lip to stifle a moan as his head fell back. 

He was barely listening to your words, just wanting to hear your sweet voice and imagine you were saying something else instead… something far dirtier. Wanting to watch you again, he leaned his head back up and opened his eyes to study your face. Your lips looked so pink and pouty, and so fucking kissable— it drove him crazy. 

“Neil..” You called out, snapping him out of his trance. 

“Yeah?” He cleared his throat when he heard how raspy it already was. 

“I asked if you were listening.” You giggled— fucking giggled. 

“Sorry… I promise I am now.” It was so hard to talk with his cock in his hand, throbbing with need. 

“Why can’t you turn your camera on?” You suddenly asked, making him freeze. He never thought you’d actually confront him about it…

“I- Uh… I spilled soda all over myself and I’m still trying to clean it up, while being mostly nude… I can turn it back on if you want.” He said suggestively. 

“Okay okay, sorry.” You laughed, then continued talking. “Oh- I wanted to show you what I got the other day. It reminded me of you.” You smiled and then stood up, making his jaw drop. The tank top didn’t even reach your belly button and the shorts you were wearing rested low on your hips. 

When you turned around, he choked on a moan and squeezed the base of his cock, trying not to come right then and there. No wonder the shorts were so low… If you pulled them up any higher, they’d expose more than just the very bottom of your ass. You must not have heard him because you walked a few more steps to your bookcase, then started looking for the mystery object. His hand had a mind of its own and started stroking again as he watched your hips sway while you looked through different drawers and shelves. 

You bent down to look through the bottom half, sticking your ass out as if you were teasing him on purpose. He cursed under his breath when he could just barely see the outline of your pussy in the skin tight shorts. When you leaned back up, the fabric was even higher up on your ass now and when you turned around to walk back to the computer, he saw that your tank top shifted as well, exposing more of your cleavage and the swell of your breasts. They jiggled as you sat back down in the chair.  

“Are you sure you’re listening?” He suddenly heard through the trance he was in.  

“Mhm.. just keep talking. Promise I’m listening.” He tried not to say the words through a moan. 

“Okay…” You said skeptically, but continued anyway. He was enjoying the view of your tits, but he desperately wanted to see your ass again, so he bit his lip and tried to think of a way to get you out of the chair again. 

He waited until you were done talking before asking, “Is that thing up there new?” Your brows furrowed and you turned around to see what he was talking about. 

“The figurine thing? I guess yeah. You haven’t been over in a while.” 

“Can I see it?” You smiled and agreed and he watched you stand up and turn around, only letting you take two steps before stopping you. “Wait,” You froze and turned back around, leaning down into the frame so he could see your face. 

“What?” The way you were bent over exposed even more of your tits and he stifled a groan at the sight. 

“Nevermind, sorry.” He chuckled, playing it off. You seemed suspicious but eventually leaned back up and turned around to continue walking. You got up on your toes and reached up, making your tank top raise even more, now showing your entire lower back. He imagined seeing that when he had you bent over instead, squirming and moaning under him until he came on the cute little dimples you have. 

“I used a stool to get it up here.” You laughed, dropping your heels, making your ass bounce, and twisting around to face the computer. 

“It looks like you’re almost there.” 

“Really?” You turned back around and looked up, then started reaching again, making little groans of effort that had his cock throbbing. 

“Try jumping.” 

“Neil, do you have to see it?” You huffed, already getting tired of this. “Can’t you just wait until the next time you come over?” 

“But I want to see it now.” He made sure to make his pout show in his tone since you couldn’t see his face. You let out a loud, exaggerated groan in response, but kept trying. The first time you jumped, your fingers almost brushed it. He watched in awe and cursed under his breath at the way your ass moved when you landed. Is that how it would move when he plowed into you from behind? 

You jumped again, just barely touching it. When you landed, you pulled your top down, embarrassed by how much of your midriff was showing. Neil muted his computer for a moment, needing to let out the sounds while you couldn’t see that he turned his sound off. 

The tip of his cock was completely red now, pulsing and twitching in his hand as he neared his orgasm. He moaned loudly when you jumped again and his hips bucked up into his hand. 

“Fuuuck..” He groaned, tilting his head back, but not too far so that he could still see the screen. When you jumped again, you finally grabbed it and he turned the audio back on as you walked over. Just before sitting, you pulled your tank top down again when you noticed how much of your stomach was showing. You didn’t seem to mind that the added coverage on your stomach was at the expense of the coverage on your tits. Or you just didn’t know. 

You started talking about the figurine and where you got it, and he let out little uh huh’s or grunts in response. He genuinely had no idea what you were saying, but there wasn’t even a small part of him that cared. You put it down and suddenly stretched your arms up, leaning back in the chair to stretch your back with a low moan. 

He felt his balls tighten up instantly and he got to his feet, knowing exactly what he wanted to do. He rapidly fisted his cock as you leaned back up, your top even lower now. With a stifled groan, his orgasm finally crashed over him. Rope after rope of come painted the computer screen, right on your tits. 

“Neil?” You asked, but he couldn’t talk, not when his body was literally shaking from the intensity of the pleasure. “Are you okay?” He started panting quietly as he stroked the last bead of come out, then released his cock. 

“Yeah.” He said through a breath, flopping back down onto the chair. His cock was still twitching with the aftershocks of his orgasm, especially when he saw your come covered tits though the screen. 

“Are you sure?” You were so cute when you got all concerned like this. So cute, but so dumb. 

“Promise.” 

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[dnd-writes]

A Gift From Within

AO3

Tags: Non-con, yes, yet another non-con fic. Sex toy!Hyunjin, bondage, ruined orgasms, anal, cum in ass, anal, cum in ass, anal, cum in ass, you guessed it, anal, cum in ass, cockwarming, technically food play-ish, bowl, cum swallowing

A/N: Thanks to late night degen hours, Smite's fic idea that spawned that KIOF fic, and my inbox being flooded by you guys (@kaedespicelatte pinging for no reason at all) Happy birthday to Loossemble's commander, Hyunjin!!! For her birthday, I present to her... a non-con fic! Feeling very down bad lately so uhh, expect more of these short non-con quickies in the coming days. So I guess welcome to my new apparent series which we'll call... Non-con November (depending on how things go, likely it will continue into December, so the name is temporary (though not like it needs a name)) Also don't expect these to be logical or sensical, just lots of horny degen ramblings that I put together Also, this is admittedly 'sub-par' but I promise the next fics will be 'better'

You wake up next to Hyunjin’s drugged body, you get to your feet and grab the rope laying on the table beside you. You waste no time as you get to work. You start by taking her clothes off, just the prospect of seeing her naked body is getting you hard already. You grope Hyunjin’s chest for a bit before taking her shirt off, then you unclasp her yellow bra and all that’s left are her bare tits, not the biggest but they’re still cute little handfuls. They feel so soft as you touch them but you stop yourself before you get too carried away, you still have a plan to execute. All that’s left are her skirt and underwear but you take those off with ease, leaving Hyunjin fully nude on your bed. What Hyunjin lacks in the breasts department, she makes up for in ass and thighs, you give her asscheek a quick slap and watch as it ripples across her skin. You grab a whiff of her pussy, heavenly, you help yourself to a little meal but with Hyunjin drugged out, there’s not much for you to get, so you carry on with the next step, tying her up.

“There and there.” You tighten whatever knots still feel loose as you finish, you stand up to admire the work you’ve just spent about an hour doing, Hyunjin’s naked body tied up. Her body is bent in half, her ankles are tied behind her head while her hands are tied behind her back. It almost looks like a full nelson made even rougher than it already is, just without a cock spearing into her asshole from below, though you’re about to fix that soon enough. For now you caress Hyunjin’s delicate face, her sleeping look and the ropes tied around her body, each beauties in their own right.

It doesn’t take long until you hear Hyunjin groaning. “Ah, just in time.” You pick her up then put her down on the ground, you take your pants off then kneel down, raising her hips so that you’re at just the proper height for your cock to line up with Hyunjin’s asshole. You play around a bit as you wait for Hyunjin’s consciousness to fully recover. You graze your length along her slit, dry, as expected. But you can’t wait to have her squirt endlessly for hours on end. 

Hyunjin’s eyes flutter awake, she tries to stretch her body but she quickly realizes her limbs are stuck in place, she tries to struggle but finds her whole body tied up, only managing to move her head about her neck but nothing else. “W-Who are you?! Where the hell am I?! What the hell is this?!”

You simply close her mouth with your fingers, “Shh, shh, shh. Everything is going to be alright, Hyunjin. Just relax, it will be over before you know it.”

Even with your gentle instructions she still doesn’t listen, they never do, always wanting to do it the hard way. “No. No, no, no. Help! Someone HELPPPP!!!” she screams for help but you just sigh at her, you’ve sound-proofed the place long ago, yelling will just waste her angelic voice. You stand up and grab a pair of scissors, immediately Hyunjin shuts up but you just chuckle, the scissors aren’t for her, at least, not directly. In your other hand you hold a roll of duct tape, you close Hyunjin’s mouth and wrap about two rounds of tape around her head before cutting it off. “That should do it, now again, just relax, Hyunjin. It’s gonna be easier for both of us, I’m telling you.”

Now onto the next step. You take your cock and spit on it, jerking off a bit as you spread the saliva everywhere. Then you spit on Hyunjin’s asshole and immediately he begins to panic as she realizes what you’re about to do, thrashing with all her effort although her body barely even moves. She screams as best she can through her taped mouth while shaking her head but you remind her again. “Relax… or it’s gonna be painful.” 

You spread Hyunjin’s cheeks apart but her tense body is just clenching heavily causing her sphincter to blink at you. But you still carry on, you make one last attempt to spread her ass open but it barely seems to do anything. You spit on the tiny hole once again as you start to penetrate it, the saliva helps a little bit as you feel yourself ever so slightly sliding into Hyunjin’s asshole. Slowly but surely you push past the entrance and you find yourself sinking every inch deeper and deeper into her anal canal. Even with the gag, you can still hear Hyunjin’s cute little moans.

You finally hilt and you give Hyunjin some time to adjust to your size. In the meantime, you play with her pussy. You start simple, just the middle and pointer fingers, but as you make your way inside, Hyunjin reacts violently. “Sensitive, aren’t we?” It’s like she would much rather have a thick cock in her ass than two fingers in her pussy, though it’s not like you would care for that boundary, you’ve broken so many at this point, what’s another one?

You slowly curl your fingers inside of Hyunjin, prodding and exploring her vaginal walls as you maneuver your fingers in and out. You finally hit a spot that gets the most reaction out of her and you don’t hesitate to start attacking it. Hyunjin’s muffled moans fill the room as her breath gets more and more erratic.

Before Hyunjin can reach orgasm, you pull your fingers out, she looks extremely annoyed. Probably the only good thing she’ll ever be able to enjoy today and even that you stripped away from her. You make an audible sound of delight as you stick your soaked fingers in your mouth, you could have had more but you decided it’s been long enough since you penetrated Hyunjin’s ass.

You start to pull out then thrust deep inside again, your skin slaps hers and it causes her thighs to jiggle. You thrust again and again until you find a steady pace to fuck her ass at. Each slap onto her ass is accompanied by a mixture of hindered grunts and moans coming from Hyunjin. You lift Hyunjin’s ass into the air, bending her into an L-shape as you start slamming your hips into hers. You bend forward and meet her face, you could have kissed her but she was being too much of a loudmouth that you had to do something about it. Instead you attack her neck, sucking and biting on her exposed skin, repaying some of the pain you caused by giving her some hickeys.

You give one last slam as you feel your balls draining into Hyunjin’s ass. She expects you to be done, to do something else, but you don’t even pull out of her butt. “That’s one,” you say. You lift her off the ground while making sure your cock doesn’t leave the confines of her rear. As you press her up against the wall, Hyunjin realizes what your plan is, to fill her ass with cum. It’s simple, you fuck her ass and cum, then fuck her ass and cum, then fuck her ass and cum again, just that over and over until the day finishes.

You fuck her a couple more times in the bedroom, counting every load you dump deep into her. You fuck her against the wall, then you fuck her while holding her close and giving her more hickeys while sitting on your side of the bed, then you fuck her for the last time against a different wall. Now a total of four loads as you exit the bedroom.

You make your way to the kitchen. You fuck her on the table while waiting for your coffee, then you fuck her against the counter while waiting for your toast. You head back to the table where you start fucking her while sitting on a chair, after every orgasm you switch seats and take a bite of your toast, repeating it until you finish your meal. By now you’ve lost count of how much you’ve dumped and you couldn’t be bothered to recall it. 

You spent so much time that your coffee is now cold and it’s almost the afternoon. You head over to the living room and turn the TV on, with nothing to watch you just put Netflix on and play the next episode of your show. Though instead of focusing on the program, of course, you focus on Hyunjin’s ass. You fuck her missionary on the left side, then you fuck her cowgirl in the middle, then you fuck her while embracing her again on the right side, only except this time instead of biting her neck, you spray kisses along her face. After that you fuck her on the coffee table, then you fuck her on the floor, then you prone bone her along the length of the couch. You hear the TV stop making sound which is your signal to move elsewhere. 

You head upstairs and look for a new room to indulge in your depravity and your eyes set on your office. For once, you’re not here to work, but rather you’re here to stuff someone’s ass full of your cum. 

You barely make it inside and you’re already starting to fuck Hyunjin’s asshole again, you push her up against the door, you hold her in place as you piston your cock into her from below. You take this time as an opportunity to have a go at her chest. Due to her petite size, you’re able to almost swallow one whole breast into your mouth, it almost feels like jello the way it jiggles in your mouth. You latch onto her whole breast like a child and your tongue starts to play with her nipple, flicking it, licking around it, and just getting a taste of her whole boob. 

You move over to the other breast after lathering the other one in spit, only except now you become much rougher. You start sucking on the other tit but instead of playing and teasing, you start biting her skin and nibbling on her nipple. You can hear Hyunjin’s grunts of protest as you tug on her chest using just your teeth.

You pump another batch of cum into Hyunjin’s ass, you’ve lost count long ago but based on your rough estimate, you’re easily in the 20’s but it also feels like you’re in the 30’s already. 

You carry Hyunjin up to your desk and slam her down, she cries in discomfort as binder clips and pens dig into her skin. But instead of helping her out, you lean forward and press her further onto the table. You’ve never seen Hyunjin squirm so much before, you’ve been raping her ass all day long but only now has she complained the most. She cries even harder as the objects dig into her skin. If the table were any lower, you’d be able to get on top of Hyunjin easily. Though what’s stopping you from doing that anyway?

You carefully get on the table and kneel down, knocking away anything you might accidentally hit, can’t have that happen to you. You then press your entire weight onto Hyunjin and rejoice as you hear her cries through the tape. Every thrust paired with a pleading cry to get out. 

You cum in her ass and finally lift her off of the table, you hold Hyunjin in your arms as you look over her shoulder and assess the situation. You brush off the things sticking to her skin, only leaving behind the red marks of all those objects digging into her. You lean Hyunjin against your chair to put her somewhere comfortable after what you just put her through, but with the way her limbs are tied behind her and the way you angle her to fuck her ass, it’s not really much better.

After depositing another load of cum, you then fuck her under the desk, then you fuck her while you sit on your chair, then you fuck her one last time one the desk the same way you did earlier, using her cries as a driving force to keep going.

As your stomach grumbles, you head back down to the kitchen. You heat up some leftovers and while waiting, you fuck Hyunjin against the countertop again. Much like earlier, you spend the next couple of hours rotating around the table while fucking Hyunjin’s ass in various positions. Only except this time before you take a bite, you keep your chopsticks in Hyunjin’s pussy, just to give your food an extra little “flavor.”

Finally finished with your meal, you take the chopsticks out of her pussy and give it one final lick before tossing it into the sink. You head back to your bedroom, exhausted from a full day of doing nothing but cumming inside Hyunjin’s butt. You gently carry Hyunjin onto the bed and place her down on it. This being your last load of the night, you take it a little slow, some might say a little more passionate, though ultimately it doesn’t differ from the umpteenth other times you came in her ass. After delivering the final load of the night, you go to sleep on top of Hyunjin, your cock snug and warm in her asshole.

You wake up, still rock hard inside of Hyunjin’s ass, this is it, the final stretch. You shake yourself awake then lift Hyunjin up, still being careful to not accidentally pull out of her. You hold her by her ass, letting gravity do its thing, bouncing her along your length as you walk towards the kitchen. You take a bowl from the cupboard and set it down on the floor.

You set Hyunjin on the edge of the table, she grunts as she feels it dig into her back, you would have picked somewhere more comfortable for her but you’re in the final stretch, you can’t stop now. You hold onto Hyunjin’s hips as you thrust upwards into her, you can feel the stored cum sloshing against your dick with every thrust and it excites you, making you pound Hyunjin’s ass even harder.

Finally you dump your final load in her ass and now you know it’s time for the final step. You kneel down on the ground and for the first time in a whole day, you take your dick out of Hyunjin’s ass. Your cum leaks out like a waterfall and you hold Hyunjin’s cheeks apart to let everything flow out, you shake her body for good measure to really get every last drop out of there.

You prop Hyunjin against the wall to make sure she’s upright then you slowly peel the duck tape off of her face so as not to hurt her. The first thing she does as her mouth is freed is to spit on your face, “Fuck you, asshole.” You wipe the saliva into your hand. “When I g—” You slap the spit back on her face, which seems to be enough to get rid of her snarky attitude. “That’s not nice” Is all you have to say about what she just did.

“Here’s your present, Hyunjin. Happy birthday!!!” You grab the bowl off the floor and present it to her, a collection of all the cum that you dumped that lingered inside of her ass for a whole day. “Drink your gift, Hyunjin.” You press the bowl close to her lips and the first thing that hits her is the smell, she retches as she turns her head as far away as possible from it. “No, it’s fucking disgusting.”

You grip her chin and hold her steady, forcing her mouth open as you hold the bowl to her lips. “You have a choice: either you drink it, or I’ll make you drink it.” Hyunjin just nods her head as she chooses to go with the easier option, you can’t say that it doesn’t surprise you, all the others fought for the hard way, it puts a smile on your face seeing someone listen to you for a change.

You slowly tilt the bowl and the content slowly drips into Hyunjin’s waiting mouth, she immediately gags as it hits her tongue but regardless she forces herself to drink the cum. With the bowl now empty, you set it aside as you give Hyunjin a pat on the head. “For being so polite, here’s an extra gift, just for you.” You stand up and point your cock at Hyunjin’s face. “Open wide!”

[lazyneonrabbitt]

Domesticated

Daryl Dixon x reader

Request. Cuddling in bed, like mundane little moments in their relationship

🏠 🌳 🐺

You laid in bed, cuddling your big, fluffy beast of a man. Propped up on your elbows that rested on his chest so you could press sweet kisses to his snout while the rough pads of his paws ran over the soft fat of your thighs and butt. You had just gotten out of the shower while Daryl had offered to warm the bed for when you got back.

Even with the winter being as cold as it was, you were,you were perfectly comfortable being in the nude underneath only the large deer pelt Daryl had gifted you as his courting gift that you had ever so excitingly accepted when the days started getting shorter, and with accepting the pelt you also accepted his offer of marriage.

Which was something you hadn't entirely realised as it happened.

You had been invited to come over for dinner and you had stayed with him in his basement room overnight and only kisses and cuddles were shared after he gave you the pelt.

When you came back upstairs the next morning Carol had embraced and congratulated you, asking if the newlyweds would like some breakfast.

Your little sign of shock had Daryl almost regret not being more forward about it until Carol enthousiastically spoke up about it and Daryl only sensed happiness and love coming from you.

"So, the pelt is like my wedding ring?" You three shared breakfast and talked. Carol snooped about your first night together and got disappointingly boring answers, and Daryl explained how werewolf relationships worked and tried to adapt them to you being a human together.

So here you sat at your back porch. A large sheet covering the white painted floofing as you held the squirel carcass with your bare hands and cut away at the skin with a grimace on your face.

Next to you your loving husband laid on the floor, rolled over on his back and laughing.

Well, as far as laughing went in his shifted form.

The first time he had you do this was a nightmare.

Daryl came home with a couple of hunted squirels, throwing them at you and letting you know he caught dinner and you were preparing it.

Sitting on the porch you watched in horror as Daryl showed you how to skin the little creature and prepare it for cooking.

When he handed you one you took it reluctantly, being way out of your comfort zone while Daryl laughed.

"Yer the one who mentioned havin' kids. I'm the one teachin' ya how to be a good werewolf momma before I even think of puttin' a pup in ya."

You complained all the way through the job, and Daryl helped you a lot those first few times.

Now as you were at the squirel business again he had shifted so he couldn't help you. Not physically but also not even verbally as he couldn't talk. You almost didn't want to feed him the squirel after you finished it.

Not that you'd need to take it apart for him, he'd swallow it whole.

"It's for the babies." You kept telling yourself as you almost cried when you stuffed your hands into its chest cavity to pull the innards out. "Gods, I can't believe you shove your entire head between a deer's ribs to eat. So gross.."

While it wasn't technically a complaint, Daryl still decided to fake offense and dramatically turn away from you, plopping down with his tail almost in your squirrel and loudly grumbling like you hurt his feelings.

"Just know that if you ever feed them whole squirels you're the one bathing them." You swat his tail away from the dead animal and slump back as you continue to reluctantly carve it up.

At least you had dinner prep almost done now.

Together with the potatoes coming in from Hilltop and the locally grown greens you managed to put together a decent meal for the two of you.

Like you agreed on you ate dinner together at the table, even if you had been spending all day at home. Dinner was one constant at home to both be normal people for a moment.

As you ate you felt eyes on you, knowing full well what that look was but you ignored it to the best of your ability and continues to eat.

Untill Daryl decided ro mumble a question with his mouth full. One you didn't quite make out and had you look up.

Right into his big, sad puppy eyes that looked down at the meat on your plate and back at you, pleading to trade.

There was a lot people didn't know about Daryl. One of those being his hidden talent for giving puppydog eyes that rivaled even little Jude and RJ's.

One quick glance was all it took for you to give in and trade some of his potatoes for your portion of meat.

A sigh leaves your smiling lips as he happily chows down on his dinner.

After Daryl washed the dishes that you dried and put away after, you decided to go for a shower.

He loved it when you washed his hair, scratching the collected dirt off his scalp and massaging fhe soap through his hair. If you didn't need to preserve water he could stay in there like this with you for the whole night.

When you were done he'd always return fhe favor. Washing your hair with the same care as you did for him.

One thing you did without fail was make sure to be out of the shower before Daryl had the water shut off.

As you stood on the ratty old bathmat you watched Daryl's figure as he shook the water off him like a wet dog, his long hair slinging waterdrops everywhere.

Your little after shower ritual was nowhere near as thorough as it was in the old world, but whemever Daryl brought back sealed bottles of lotion you'd make sure to treat your skin nicely while your hair sat wrapped in a towel and Daryl watched you while he air-dried on the edge of the tub.

You loved to watch him through the mirror, staring lovingly at your butt while you lathered yourself in lotion, and caked moisturizer on your face. After massaging it all in you went to towel dry your hair as you let the rest of you continue to air-dry.

Once you had your hair dried and brushed you moved over to brush Daryl's as well. Carefully plucking at the tangles and being relieved when you didn't find any knots you couldn't save and had to cut out.

Living alone in the house was a blessing, being able to walk around the upper floor in nothing but a towel without having to worry anyone would see you as Daryl snatched the towel off you to hang over the edge of the tub before joining you in bed.

It might have been early, but as long as he got to cuddle you he'd be in bed any hour of the day.

~~☆☆☆~~

A/N: So much fluffy goodness! Do you enjoy the fluff? Or would you enjoy more smut?

[bloompompom]

HELLO I don’t know if you take requests but I LOVED that post you made today from the ask so if you do, I was thinking about what Eren would be like if reader called/texted him while he was at work and teased him over the phone by touching themselves? YOU ABSOLUTELY DONT HAVE TO DO THIS IF YOU DONT WANT I just love how you write Eren you are one of my favorite writers for him

hehe i wouldn't say i often take requests but i'll entertain if something tickles me. i'll always say yes to you though, especially because you asked so nicely🤍

content: ~1.5k word count. husband!eren x female!reader. nudes, phone sex, semi-public masturbation, light degradation, 18+ only.

eren didn't want to go to work, believe him. who actually wants to go to work, anyway? despite his convincing, you were still acting as if he wanted to leave your side, pouting in bed when he wouldn't spoon you for 'just one more minute' because he knew it would turn into ten.

as much as he wished he could stay home and spend the day with you, he couldn't. he couldn't even risk running behind this morning because his day was to start at nine o'clock sharp, stacked full with back-to-back meetings. but based on the look you shot him on his way out the door, eren had a feeling you were about to make his long day a whole lot longer.

he had only been at work for about an hour before you texted. enjoying your day without me? the message, though it made him roll his eyes, was innocent enough. but that didn't last long.

during his second meeting of the day, already dragging by slower than the first, eren felt his phone vibrate against his thigh. he didn't need to look to know it was another message from you, especially after it buzzed again, taunting him.

just a peek wouldn't hurt, he thought, i don't even have to reply right away. the meeting was being held over video call; no one would even know if he checked his phone.

face trained straight ahead, directly toward the monitor, he slipped his phone from his pocket. in short bursts, he flitted his eyes down to unlock his phone, then again to swipe to your messages. he tried his best to be subtle with it.

miss me yet?

below it, in a separate message, a photo of you.

yes, he tried to be subtle with it, but he failed. big time.

eyes widened in shock, eren darted a hand out to shut his camera off. he hastily blamed it on technical difficulties, all the while, he was responding to you in frenzy.

baby, you cannot be doing this to me right now. you know i’m in an important meeting!

he watched—more like gawked at the image—as you quickly typed out, call me after ♡

by the look of it, you were still lounged in bed, right where he had left you. the only thing that changed was that you now wore next to nothing. barely covered by your thin bedsheet, eren admired your form.

he had seen you like this, countless times. he had learned every curve beneath his fingertips so intimately that he could draw you off memory alone if he had the knack for it. but there was something different—perhaps something more special—about the sight when you had captured it on camera for him. knowing you settled back into your shared bed, the one he devotedly fucked you in near-nightly, spread your pretty pussy, and snapped a photo with no one but him clouding your thoughts.

eren couldn't help but stare for a minute, maybe longer. the meeting had fizzled into nothing more than white noise. if someone were to call his name right now, he doubted he'd hear it. he couldn't remember the last time he'd been so flustered, but even after all the years spent together, you still managed to have that effect on him whether he liked it or not.

it was obvious you were up to no good—practically asking for trouble, except he was the one who'd inevitably take the fall for it. he didn't have the time to call you unless he wished to have his boss chew him out. even so, he found himself stumbling into your trap. he was only human, after all; he wasn't above thinking with his dick from time to time. so he rang you between meetings, justifying it by calling with only a single earbud in, foolishly convinced he could multitask while on the phone with you.

after a few rings, you answered. at least, eren was pretty sure you answered. the line was silent. there was a split second where he thought the call had dropped. as he started to say your name, he was interrupted. he heard soft breaths on the other end of the phone. tiny noises, like hums and huffs through your nose. eren's mouth ran dry.

"ah—i need you," you breathed, gasped. "i couldn't wait for you to get home."

you feigned innocence as you said it, your voice sweetened up as if you were truly helpless. but your husband knew you better than that; he knew he didn't have a demure little wife waiting for him at home, but fuck, did he find it hot. so he'd always fall for the act anyway.

caught up in it, eren's fingertips ghosted over his keyboard with a slight tremble. his eyes were on his computer screen, but the documents were blurry and out of focus. everything was blurry and out of focus, except you of course.

he needed to know what you were doing to yourself. did you have your vibrator? if so, which one did you choose? or had you decided to use your fingers, circling the pads of them against your clit? maybe you were fingering yourself, knuckles deep but whining for more, growing wetter by the second as you dreamt of his fingers—how they could reach places yours couldn't.

before he could ask—discover if you were grinding against your hand or his pillow—the door to his office flew open.

“jaeger, i—"

eren jolted, almost to a comical degree, and his co-worker rightfully laughed, offhandedly commenting how he didn't seem the type to startle easily. eren spoke with him—well, tried to speak with him. it was a challenge because he still had you in his ear, moaning now, louder than before. you were asking where he had gone, begging for him to talk you through it—to tell you every dirty thing he wanted to do to you.

eren couldn't repeat a word his co-worker had said to him. he only waited for him to finish, cleared his throat, and told him to close the door on his way out. eren then marked out for lunch, hoping it would buy him some time.

whether it was his sense of decency or self-control that snapped first, eren wasn't sure. but when you cried out his name, he could no longer stop himself from reaching for his cock, throbbing to be touched by you. his hand would have to suffice for now.

cursing both you and himself, he tugged his slacks down to the middle of his thighs, just low enough that he could touch himself, too. eren thumbed over the leaky tip of his cock, hissing in a tangled mix of relief and utter humiliation. he couldn't believe you had brought him to his knees like this. succumbing to jerking himself at work had to be a new low, even for him.

"what a needy little thing you are," eren spoke into the phone. his voice was quiet but guttural and deeply authoritative. "thinking you can interrupt my workday just so i can help get you off."

he made it sound like a burden, but he only fisted his cock faster.

"yes," you moaned, drawing out the simple word as if it were longer than just the syllable. you were babbling now, talking to him exactly how he liked. "fuck, i'm your needy little thing—your needy little slut."

his brain short-circuited then and there, incapacitating him to the point where he could only mutter on about how fucking hot you were between breaths, squeezing his cock as if his hand could ever compare to you.

you were close; he could hear it when you whimpered, "eren—"

“that’s right," he cut in. he was right there with you. "only think about me when you come. think about coming all over my cock like a good girl."

with his free hand, eren pulled up the picture you sent him, staring at you while your moans became strained and choppy on the other end of the phone. such a perfect pussy, he thought, like it was made just for him.

your breath hitched in your throat, the final tell-tale sign that you were coming undone.

“that's it. come for me, baby." he needed to finish when you did. he stroked himself, not minding the squeak in his chair as he quickened his pace. "i wanna hear it—god, i need to hear you."

one last sob, ripped right from the pit of your lungs, and eren came with you. his stomach tightened, eyes screwing shut, as he toppled over the edge of his release. he pumped himself through it, even when it was nearly too much, until he knew you had stopped twitching and were blissfully lazed in bed.

only then did he come to his senses again, swearing under his breath when he realized his situation—the mess he made across his phone, not to mention on his slacks.

you were giggling into the phone now; eren could hear your breathless smile in it. there was no returning to work now, was there?

"fine. you win," he surrendered with a sigh. he logged out of his computer. "i'll be home in thirty minutes."

[viperwhispered]

I don't know about you, but I find shared baths deeply intimate. Mostly cause first you have to be very comfortable with the person you're bathing with and there's an intense feeling of safety that you boundaries will be respected.

Apply this to Jamil who is arguably the most paranoid man in all of TWST. Imagine he and his s/o are getting serious and Jamil is finally starting to really open up. It's also the stage where things are getting steamier, so to speak.

As both a sign of trust and a way to get used to each others naked bodies, the couple starts bathing together. The physical vulnerability of it since their both nude is further amplified since they have to wash/touch each other. That in itself requires a lot of trust.

Just imagine this: gently applying shampoo into Jamil's silky hair while he rants about his day, slowly revealing more about his past and insecurities. Then they switch and now the reader is the one opening up about their struggles while Jamil massages the soap onto their back. Kissing any scars they might have, talking about the most random things, playing with the water, and just enjoying this moment between Jamil and his beloved. Jamil is just so busy that he relishes being able to just enjoy their presence close to him.

There's also a strong desexualizing element. Jamil and the reader likely grew up with a notion that nudity is embarrassing and should only happen with a sexual partner. While this statement is technically true, they aren't in a sexual situation. They're trusting each other to respect their boundaries in such a way that the way they view each other goes from "potential sex object" to "a body that so happens to belong to my dearest".

Which further adds to my hot take of the "If evil why hot" route with OB!Jamil being pre-relationship.

Also, fun concept: washing away blot.

Imagine they're at the very end of the overblot Jamil boss fight. The phantom is defeated but there's still some blot left. So the reader pushes him into the river created by Kalim and holds him there as the water washes away the blot. When he starts calming down, they gently start rubing the blot off. Slowly trekking their fingers through his hair as the snakes dissappear. By the end they're left with an exhausted sulky wet Jamil. The reader then kisses his forehead as they wrap a towel around him.

Aww there definitely is a lot of potential for sweetness with stuff like this. I mean, having someone wash your hair, cleaning up together… It really can feel so intimate and vulnerable.

Now, I feel like I should add the caveat that I'm Finnish, so I'm fairly used to seeing other people's bodies in the sauna, for example, and the whole concept of nudity = sex is not quite so strong for me, personally. (Though personally I'm not likely to go to a mixed sauna, especially with strangers, but still.) So my perspective for the nudity aspect may be a little bit different, though I do definitely agree with these scenarios being intimate and potentially vulnerable. Like, you really do need to let your guard down to let someone see you bared like that, no hiding behind your clothes (or status) or anything else. Just, people, together.

Which definitely ties into that whole opening up for each other. We always tend to say that people are equal in the sauna, and it (perhaps surprisingly) is a good place for those deep, intimate conversations. So I can definitely see that same vibe for this bathing together, too.

Also just, the thought of squeezing into the tub together, trying to figure out how to adjust everyone's limbs and bodies so that you're both comfortable in there (and covered by water enough to actually get to enjoy it). One of you wrapping your arms around the other, holding them close, it's just… So sweet, and intimate, and also you kind of have to be “normal” about it to make it work (I don't really have the words for these vibes, just, yes it's intimate and vulnerable but at the same time you kinda just have to treat it as a normal thing if it's gonna work).

Just eugh I love this concept so much.

(Also now I'm definitely wondering how the twst guys would feel about sauna, perhaps even with the whole “run off naked to the lake to cool off a bit and then go enjoy some more heat” extra shebang.)

Oof that washing off blot, though… Oh it's going straight for my heart 😭 Just the whole I'm still here for you, I'm here taking care of you, let's wash away what happened (both literally and figuratively). Oh boy what a concept ripe for being picked apart.

(Also for some reason it's making me think of like washing off bodies for funerals, but in this particular case more in the sense of washing off the old self / what happened, something to allow rebirth or something. Or like, this could've destroyed him, but didn't. Idk, there's just so much one could do with this. Maybe it's just the talk of being washed in a river specifically that's making me think of like Lemminkäinen’s mother and all sorts of stuff.)

[synnamonroll666]

Make It Rain

Prompt 4: Showering Pairing: Syzoth X Fem!Reader Description: All you want to do when you get home from a stressful day at work is take a shower. When you finally get under the warm stream of water, your Zaterran boyfriend gets an idea... Warnings: Nudity, Light Sexual Innuendo, Fluff... Word Count: 1k A/N: I guess this technically isn't smut, but I just felt like taking a more softer approach with this one. I wanted to write something more peaceful and fluffy, with just a small pinch of spice. It doesn't have any sex in it or implied sex, just two lovers enjoying some skin-on-skin contact. So I hope you all enjoy it regardless! 💚 Main MasterList: 🖤 Kinktober MasterList: 🖤 Synny's Angels: @lorebite, @mornandil, @queenkhepri.

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After a long day of work, I craved nothing more than a nice hot shower and then a comfy bed to slumber deeply in afterwards. I barely even muttered two words to my boyfriend as I entered our shared home and stumbled past him on my way to the bathroom. That's how much I wanted this.

After gladly kicking my shoes off and quickly discarding my clothes, I turned the shower facet to hot and waited until it was nice and steamy before stepping in to encase myself in the soothing heat.

I didn't even bother lathering myself with soap right away, since I was too tired to do so. I just stood in the heavenly stream falling from above, letting all my tense muscles relax from the stressful day I had had.

But that moment of peace came to a quick end when I felt two arms snake around my nude frame to pull me tightly into a hard chest. A startled scream tore from my throat as I attempted to pull away, but the arms only locked tighter around my body. I screamed my boyfriend's name, and then a voice shushed me from behind.

"Shhhhhh; it is only me, my little sunflower." The familiar voice of Syzoth rang behind me, causing my chest to fill with a burning heat of anger.

"Syzoth!" I shrieked in rage and the man merely chuckled mischievously behind me, only making me even more mad. "You nearly gave me a damn heart attack!"

"I am sorry, but I could not resist." He said this as his chuckle faded into words. "Besides, you know how much I like things wet—especially you."

Despite the fact that my heart was beating rapidly due to his little practical joke, I was still relieved that it was him and not some creep sneaking in to get a feel of me. But I should have known because Syzoth would never let an intruder get past the front door. His predator instincts would kick in as soon as he would sense an unwelcomed presence nearby, and he would quickly tear them to shreds.

"How silly of me to forget." I countered in a semi-sarcastic yet seductive tone to tell him that I was no longer mad at his little antics. In fact, I now welcomed them. After all, how could I stay mad when I had a beautiful naked man pressed up against my back?

He lowered his head to press a few soft kisses against my neck and shoulder before resting his face in its crook, and I could feel his loving smile against my skin. My heart rate began to gradually decrease as a sudden feeling of relaxation fell over me once again. Between the soothing warm water showering over our bodies like rain and being trapped in his strong embrace, I truly did feel happy and at peace; he was the best kind of medicine to cure all my stresses and anxieties.

After awhile, I turned in his arms and rested my head against his chest to hear the beautiful song his heart produced for me. I pressed my lips against one of his tattoos on his shoulder and began leaving kisses down the design as he let out a happy and pleased sigh. His hand eventually tangled within my now-soaked hair to caress my head gently as he enjoyed our little moment; it truly was something beautiful that we shared.

After nuzzling my face into his left peck and leaving a few more kisses across his skin, I gazed up at him through my lashes with love. His lips stretched into an adoring smile as his eyes drank me in, causing heat to creep up in my cheeks once more. Then, his hands dropped from my wet locks so he could firmly wrap his arms around me to keep me as close to him as he possibly could.

"I love you," I whispered with love and appreciation filling my tone.

"I love you too, sunshine—more than you know." Syzoth murmured back before pressing a tender kiss to the top of my head.

"Thank you," I uttered breathlessly as I rested my head upon his broad chest, feeling as if everything in our happy little world was finally at peace once again. 

Syzoth then looked down at me with enough confusion painted on his face to cause a light chuckle to escape my throat. He was a smart man, but sometimes things really did fly over his head. But I wouldn't have that any other way; it was adorable. 

"For what?" He asked as he raised a questioning brow. "The kiss? Expressing my love back to you? Invading your shower?"

I couldn't stop myself from laughing at his tsunami of questions and shook my head in response as I tried to stifle my fit of giggles. He was always the cutest when confused, and it was one of the things I treasured the most about him.

"No, no—" I breathed as my laughter died down. "I meant, thank you for making my day better."

His features softened into an expression of adoration as soon as I elaborated. I think it was safe to say that he knew I had had a rough day, and he was happy that his attempts to relieve my stress were appreciated. But the truth was that he never had to do much to take my mind off of the struggles of everyday life. He was the perfect distraction from everything, and he made my world a whole lot better when he arrived in it. I couldn't have been more grateful to receive such a gift from above.

"Anytime, my little sunshine." He murmured in a tone so soft that I could have cried. He lowered his head to press another kiss against my forehead before resting his head atop mine.

So there we stood, bodies free of our fabricated prisons and tangled together tightly in a warm embrace, while water rained down on us like a soothing waterfall. It was exactly what I needed to end such a stressful day.

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[storiesofsvu]

Touch of Your Hand

Emily Prentiss x Alex Blake x reader warnings: language, smut, teasing, dirty talk, sexting, sending nudes, phone sex, masturbation, mommy kink, daddy kink, fingering, oral. Covers the "dirty talk/sexting" square for bingo! And yes... there are more of this collection coming. Technically a follow up to THIS piece, but can be read as a standalone.

Emily was so hellbent on getting out of work clothes and into bed she didn’t even hear the beep of the hotel lock as she tossed her pants in the direction of her go bag, letting out a happy groan when she finally took off her bra.

“Oh god!” Alex’s voice broke through the silence of the room, “I’m so sorry.” She shielded her eyes right before turning around and Emily let out a bark of a laugh.

“Would you relax.” She chuckled, picking up a tank top, “or did you forget we were naked in my bed less than twenty four hours ago?”

Alex’s cheeks tinged pink, a tingle running through her body at the memories that began to float through her brain. “I guess you’re right.” She laughed softly, turning back around to find Emily now in the tank top, the hem of it barely meeting the waistband of her panties as she dropped down onto her bed.

“I’m gonna call y/n quick.” She gestured with her phone as she leant back against the headboard and Alex stilled in her movement.

“Oh, I can… take a walk?”

“Not that kind of phone call Blake.” Emily laughed, “I’m just saying goodnight, it’ll be super quick.”

“Alright.” Alex chuckled, folding her blazer over the back of a chair before she quickly changed into pyjamas and ducked around the corner into the bathroom to brush her teeth and give Emily a bit of privacy for the phone call.

The phone rang against Emily’s ear only twice before you picked up, “Hi baby.”

“Hey. Just calling to check in, say goodnight.”

“But it’s early.” You practically whined back and she chuckled.

“It’s almost midnight in DC.” Emily replied while checking her watch.

“Yeah, I meant for you. Besides, I’m off tomorrow. I was kinda hoping for playtime.”

“Princess…” she warned, practically hearing your pouting through the phone, “didn’t you get enough last night?”

“I wanna hear you daddy.”

“I’m not alone angel...” She chuckled, her eyes following Alex as the other woman crossed through the room to the other bed.

“Fine.” You huffed, “guess I’ll just have to use my imagination.”

“You better behave…”

“I’ll try.” You giggled and Emily rolled her eyes, “I love you.”

“I love you too. Now get some rest.”

“I’ll think about it.” You giggled again and Emily let out a huff.

“Goodnight.”

“Night daddy.” You purred into the phone before hanging up and Emily was left to sigh, dropping the phone back onto the bedspread as Alex let out a small chuckle.

“Sounds like someone’s toeing the line?”

“You think she wouldn’t be so needy after being used like that.”

“Poor girl probably gets lonely when you’re gone.” Alex said with a shrug, “was awfully nice of you to leave your credit card.” Emily laughed at that,

“According to the email I got she’s already racked up quite the tab.”

“Hmm.” She casually picked up her book from the bedside table, fingers sliding through the pages until she found her spot, “must be nice. Wonder if she got anything pretty.”

Emily glanced up from her phone, a brow raised at the other woman whose eyes were directed toward the book in her lap, but the small smirk on her lips told another story.

*

The low warm glow of light in the bedroom was what you preferred for taking risqué photos, and after your shopping spree and a few glasses of wine, you’d decided that was going to be your plan for the night. Hearing Emily’s voice simply spurred you on even more, wishing that she would’ve stayed on the phone longer, maybe asked what you were wearing like she normally would on longer trips out of state. When she didn’t, you simply huffed, changing into the second set of lingerie to snap a handful of photos to torment her with later down the road. You’d just changed into the third, padding across the bedroom when your phone buzzed on the bed. You glanced towards it with a curious expression on your face, as Emily had stated, it was getting late, there weren’t very many options for who would be texting you at this hour. Scooping it up you swiped open the message, it was a group chat, Emily’s name and a number you didn’t have saved but the same area code, the only message so far from Emily.

‘How was your little shopping trip?’

‘I thought you weren’t alone?’

The next message came in from the unsaved number.

‘Relax darling, mommy just wanted to see if you got anything pretty in green.’

Ah. Alex.

A sly smile on your face as you glanced down at your body, of course you’d just changed into the green set, it was as if these women had some kind of psychic powers. You quickly saved Alex’s contact in your phone, the device buzzing in your hand as you did so.

Emily:

‘Convenient we happen to be sharing a room this week, isn’t it?’

Alex:

‘I’ll say.’ 

‘Now sweet girl, would you like to show off?’

‘Yes.’ You quickly typed back, ‘just one second.’

Scrambling back onto the bed you positioned yourself to show off the full set of lingerie, practically pouting toward the camera as you took a handful of shots before switching positions and repeating the process another couple of times. Scanning through them you picked your favourite, double checking you were sending it to the right recipients before hitting send.

Emily:

‘Naughty girl, you were already doing this before I called, weren’t you?’

‘Sorry daddy. Just wanted to look pretty for you’

Alex:

‘I do think she looks rather gorgeous.’

Emily:

‘She does. As long as she asks before touching…’

‘May I?’

Emily:

‘Go ahead princess. Just remember the rule. You’re only allowed to come around one of our cocks.’

Alex:

‘And you better show us what you’re doing sweet girl. Go on, play with those pretty tits.’

You pulled the cup of the bra down, revealing your exposed chest to the camera, hands cupping at the flesh, pinching at your nipple as you threw your head back, taking a few more pictures before sending one off. Taking the bra fully off you tossed it to the side, falling back onto the bed and angled yourself into another couple of positions before sharing those pictures as well.

Emily:

‘Well you were right, green certainly does look good.’

Alex:

‘Bet you wish we were there to suck on your gorgeous tits, don’t you? Imagine the feeling of both of our mouths on you at once, would drive you wild, wouldn’t it?’

Christ.

You let out a whine, hands continuing to grope at yourself, pinching your nipples harder than before, wishing there was some way to replicate the feeling of what Alex was suggesting.

‘I do mommy, I really, really do.’

Emily:

‘Patience princess. We’ll have our way with you when we get back, don’t you worry.’

Alex:

‘Don’t think I’ll be able to keep my hands off you darling girl. My mouth may be busy with your tit, sucking it into my lips, biting you hard enough to leave a nice mark so you’ll think of me every time you see it until it fades. But my fingers? They want to feel you, they’ll start to explore your skin, tickling down your body until they’re sneaking under those gorgeous green panties you’ve got on. I’ll rub at your clit softly, watching the way your mouth falls open, a breathy moan leaving you as I press just a little harder. It's no surprise you’re wet already sweet girl, I know how badly you want us, I’m sure you’ve started begging by now, that pretty pussy aching to be touched, for the feeling of my fingers slipping into you while Emily holds your legs spread nice and wide. Thankfully she can keep you pinned down while my hands bring you to your peak over and over until you’re begging me to stop. Go on darling, touch that dripping cunt, I know you want to.’

Alex could feel the other woman’s eyes on her from across the hotel room, glancing up to her, “what?”

“How the fuck are you sending shit like that with a fucking straight face?”

“Figured we were just here to torture the girl, right?” She shrugged.

“I guess.” Emily huffed out a laugh, “I just didn’t expect you of all people to be that good of a sexter.” Alex laughed, turning toward her with a teasing grin.

“I just have a way with words, what can I say?”

“As a linguist, I’m not that surprised, but.. I— er .. Jesus!” She laughed again and Alex cocked a brow in her direction, her head tilting in realization as she watched the pink beginning to creep up the back of the other woman’s neck.

“Is this turning you on Agent Prentiss?”

Emily had never been more happy to hear her phone buzz, letting out a groan at the sight of your hand slipping beneath the waistband of your panties. A moment later it buzzed again, a video clip of your hand moving beneath the fabric and a breathy whine coming from your lips, “please…” Naturally, Alex was much more composed, able to pick up her phone to type out a reply before Emily had even processed your begging fully.

Alex:

‘Oh sweet girl, tell us what you want. But don’t you dare stop playing with yourself, I want to be able to hear how soaked your pussy is, want to be able to see the mess you make all over those pitiful excuse for panties.’

‘Daddy didn’t get to come last night. Need to hear her.’

Alex glanced up from her phone to catch Emily eyeing her up and she laughed, a dark gleam taking over her eyes before she typed out another message.

‘Well if both of you are alright with it I’m sure I could help out with that.’

Emily:

‘Princess, you still okay with our sharing rule?’

‘Absolutely. Yes. Please.’

You couldn’t hear it, but both of the women let out a laugh at your eagerness, exchanging a glance, Alex waiting for a nod from the other woman before she stood from her bed, crossing the tiny space in between them and standing over her.

“Give me your phone?”

Emily immediately handed it over, watching as Alex flicked through a couple of screens.

*

Your phone began to buzz against the bedspread and you let out a frustrated whine at the interruption, your body already prickling with heat, pussy fluttering around nothing.

“Hello?” You hadn’t even bothered to check who it was, at this time was either Emily or work. One would be entertaining; one would be hell.

“Put it on speaker and leave it beside your ear.” Alex’s voice, smooth as silk, came through the speaker and you quickly did as she asked.

“Yes mommy.”

“Good girl.”

“Don’t you forget princess.” Emily’s voice broke through the speaker and you could tell she was already wound up, “you don’t dare come.”

“Yes daddy. I’ll be good. I promise. Swear.”

“For someone who’s not allowed to come you’re certainly eager.” Alex taunted before turning back to the other woman, “as for you… I do think you’re a little overdressed. What do you say sweet girl, should Emily get naked? That way I can see her gorgeous tits?”

“Y-yes. Please!”

Alex nudged Emily back on the bed, crawling between her spread legs as her fingers toyed with the hem of her tank top. There was a murmur of words between them that you couldn’t fully hear, your hand continuing to lazily play with yourself before Alex tugged off the fabric, letting it fall to the bed beside them.

“So fucking pretty.” She murmured, “bet you wish you could have your mouth on them, don’t you darling?”

“Always.” You replied with a whimper.

Alex chuckled softly, her hand wrapping around Emily’s jaw, tilting it to the side so she could have full access to her neck, her lips hitting the base of her jaw and trailing their way across the porcelain skin. Emily couldn’t help but let out a quiet moan at the feeling and the sound made you clench down around nothing. Alex’s lips formed a smirk, testing the waters with a light nip at her pulse point and Emily gasped, her hand shooting up to grab at Alex’s arm before the two fell backwards into the pillows.

“So pretty all laid out for me.” Alex murmured, her hand ghosting up Emily’s stomach before cupping her tit, groping at the flesh and Emily let out another moan, one that made your entire body tingle before she directed her words to the phone. “You’re such a lucky girl darling, having all this be yours? I bet you just can’t keep your hands off daddy, can you?”

“Fuck—” Emily mustered, back arching off the bed as Alex continued to toy with her nipple while her mouth wrapped around the other side, “she really can’t. Oh god… that feels so good.”

“Daddy…” You whined through the phone, earning a chuckle from Alex as she popped off Emily’s nipple.

“You said you wanted to hear her, didn’t you sweet girl?”

“Yes..”

“Well then how about you tell me what I should do?” Her fingers pinched at Emily’s nipple again, earning another gasp, “should I just play with these gorgeous tits or should I do something else, hmm? Should I get rid of her panties? Ah… how about…” Her fingers toyed with the hem of her underwear, “I get my hands on her gorgeous pussy I’ll tell you exactly what I’m doing to her and you… you do exactly that to yourself? Be like I’m fucking you too. Would you like that?”

“Yes!”

The reply was instant and in pure unison from both Emily and you, pulling a dark chuckle from Alex who leant down to bite into the curve of Emily’s tit once more before she sat up between her legs.

“Are you still wearing your panties?” She asked.

“Mmhmm.” You replied with a whine.

“Time to take them off.” She instructed, her fingers slipping into the waistband of Emily’s underwear, tugging them down her legs and tossing them aside. “And I want picture proof.”

There was a scuffling noise on the other side of the phone and they could both hear your strained breathing as you shifted around before Emily’s phone buzzed, a picture of your legs spread wide for both of them to see.

“Good girl princess.” Emily breathed out, her head dropping back to the bed as Alex’s hands ran up her thighs, spreading her legs open.

“Such pretty pussies, both of you.” Alex murmured and Emily let out a gasp when her hand glided up her cunt, fingers twisting around to fully spread her open. “Now darling, I want you to start to fuck yourself, nice and slow, one finger for now, understand?”

“Yes mommy.”

You settled into the pillows of your bed, your hand sliding down your body, brushing over your clit before you slid one finger into your drenched cunt, letting out a soft moan as you did so.

“Good girl.” Alex praised through the phone, shooting a wicked grin down to Emily who was nearly shivering in anticipation already. A finger sunk into Emily’s heat with ease, wrapped in warm wetness immediately and Emily groaned. Alex’s finger pumped a few times, a small chuckle leaving her lips, “you hear how wet she is darling? I think we should give her more.”

“Yes!” You cried out, knowing you weren’t going to get anywhere without Emily getting off. You quickly added a finger, thrusting them deep into your cunt in a desperate search for your g-spot. You whimpered as the heel of your hand brushed against your clit, hips rocking up off the bed to meet your hand. You needed more, craved more, your hands were almost never enough.

Emily let out a gasp when Alex slipped a second digit into her, curling them perfectly within two thrusts,

“Fuck! Oh god, right there.”

“Play with your tits sweetheart.” Alex directed the command toward the phone as she leant over Emily, sucking a nipple back between her lips while her fingers continued to fuck the other woman. Emily’s breath picked up, her body vibrating under the other woman. Heat was coursing through her, pussy fluttering around Alex’s fingers while her hand tangled into Alex’s hair, holding her to her, encouraging more.

“More.. please.” You whined, one hand pinching at your chest while the other continued to thrust into you.

Alex immediately bit into Emily’s tit, adding a third finger into her cunt, moving her hand faster, resulting in a loud moan from Emily, nothing but soaked sounds leaving her pussy.

“Get the toy.” She gasped out, “oh fuck Alex…” her hand clutched at the bedspread, feeling Alex’s lips form a smirk against her skin, “the pink one that you like so much.” Her words were scattered, split up by laboured breaths, her body thriving against the bed. The two women could hear you scrambling, the sound of a drawer opening before the whir of the clit vibrator started.

“Pretend mommy’s mouth is on you sweet girl.” Alex murmured, her mouth kissing down Emily’s body while her fingers continued their torture and Emily pulsed around her, hips rocking up.

“Oh god!” You gasped as the toy hit your swollen nub, “daddy…need.. need to hear you…”

“Shit!” Emily couldn’t help the outburst when Alex’s lips wrapped around her clit, sucking it into her mouth for her tongue to trace patterns on. “Oh god you’re good at that…”

Alex simply chuckled into her, her fingers curling quicker, pressing into the spongey spot inside her drenched walls while her mouth continued to torment her. Emily tasted divine and Alex almost wished she had more time to devour her, though she knew that there was a high chance something like this would happen again. Her tongue lapped out lower, smearing the other women’s juices across her cunt, truly getting a taste of her and Emily let out a whine at the stilling of her fingers.

“Patience.” She murmured into her pussy, “just want to make you feel good.”

“S— so good…” She moaned back, her hand clutching at the back of Alex’s head. Pleasure was shooting through her, building lower and lower in her gut as fire prickled right under her skin. She knew she was close and she knew Alex could tell. Alex moaned into her, the vibrations making Em’s thighs shake before she licked upwards, her fingers plunging back into her and Emily cried out, “please! Pl- don’t… don’t stop…”

“Daddy…”

Your whine came through the phone right by Emily’s ear and the sounds of you moaning were just the perfect amount to spur her on. Your little whines and whimpers that you made when you were so fucking needy and desperate to come, the ones usually swallowed by her lips, fingers or cock. The little sounds you made when you needed more, wanted it harder, faster, or to be stuffed so full you’d feel it for a week.

Your fingers moved faster, pumping harder with each thrust and you clicked up the speed on the vibrator held to your clit. Your body was trembling, coated in a sheen of sweat as you climbed higher and higher to your peak, pussy clenching down around your curling fingers. Through the phone you could hear Emily getting louder as she got closer, her vocabulary became more diminished, only broken swears and gasping moans escaping her lips as Alex fucked her with skill. Your eyes scrunched shut as you imagined her, picturing just how gorgeous she would look all spread out and needy for Alex, chest heaving as she attempts to catch her breath. You could scarcely make out Alex’s voice, knowing her mouth was likely rather occupied, urging Emily on, praising her gently, pulling more and more from the other woman with each pump of her fingers.

“I know you’re close.” She purred, “come for me…”

You let out a moan at Alex’s words, the sopping sounds echoing through the phone that you knew were coming from Emily’s pussy and your juices were suddenly dripping down your wrist as your body trembled.

Alex’s mouth latched back around Emily’s clit, sucking hard right as her fingers crooked into the spongey spot inside her and Emily shuddered, her hand shooting to her mouth to muffle her cries as her orgasm washed over her. Her hips jolted up off the bed, pleasure soared through her entire body, tingling down to the tips of her fingers. Alex softly kissed her throbbing clit, pulling a whine from the other woman before her fingers began to slow their pace, fucking Emily through her orgasm. When she was sure her cunt had stopped pulsing around her fingers she slipped them out, sitting up on her knees to suck them clean.

“Holy shit…” Emily muttered and Alex chuckled.

“Feeling better?”

“So fucking much.” She laughed, panting through her words, melting deeper into the bed at the feeling of Alex softly rubbing at her legs, pulling her back down to earth. Emily rolled her head toward the phone, “princess?”

“Yes daddy?” Came the quiet whine and she realized you’d turned the toy off, nothing but the sound of your breathing coming through the speaker.

“You alright?”

“Yes.”

“Alright. You did so good for us, you hear me?”

“Such a sweet girl.” Alex purred, “such pretty pictures.”

“I want you to go get a glass of water,” Emily started, slowly still catching her breath, “use that lavender sleep spray you like so much, you need to rest up, okay?”

“Mmhmm.” They could hear your slight groan as you moved from the bed, the sounds of you padding through the house before the sound of you crawling back into bed, stifling a yawn as you did so.

“You tired darling?”

“Yeah.” You yawned once again.

“Shouldn’t stay up so late then.” Alex chided.

“Worth it.” You replied with a small laugh, “thank you for taking care of daddy.”

“Of course sweetheart.”

“Now you get some sleep.” Emily instructed.

“G’night.” You mumbled, yawning once more, causing the other women to chuckle again before there was a click and you were burrowing into the pillows, asleep almost instantly.

“You alright?” Alex asked, her hand still stroking up and down Emily’s leg.

“This is the most relaxed I’ve been on a case in my life.” She laughed, thanking Alex when she shifted on the bed, tossing her the discarded tank top and panties before moving back to the other bed.

“You know she broke a rule, right?”

“Hmm?” She glanced up as she tugged the tank back on and Alex nodded toward the phone.

“You may have been a little…. distracted.” Alex smirked, “but she definitely came… and without even thinking about asking. Looks like you’ve got some punishments to dole out when you get home.”

“You’re the one who caught her, it’s only fair if you get to join in too.”

“Anything you’ve got in mind?” Alex asked, her eyes darkening already.

A sly grin overtook Emily’s lips as a dark chuckle broke free from the other woman, “Oh I’m sure I can think of a few…”

_____________________

@mickey-gomez @momlifebehard @melindawarnersgf @itisdoctortoyousir @emilyprentiss4life @somethingimaginative17 @temilyrights @alexxavicry @daddy-heather-dunbar @aliensaurusrex @rustyzebra @ilovemycrayons @mandy-asimp @thegrantwater @leftoverenvy @kades95 @dextur @m00nkn1ghts @supercriminalbean @daffodil-heart @msvenablesbitch @its-soph-xx @going-gray @just-a-torn-up-masterpiece @hopelesslyfallenninlove @peanutbutterprincess @kdaghay @emilyprentisssluvr @lex13cm @awolfcsworld @zizzlekwum @emobabeyy @riveramorylunar @s1ut4nat @midnight-sapphic @scorpsik @prentiss-theorem @unsubologyy @strongsassysexysloane @svushots @overtrred28 @happenstnces @sapphicprentiss @heidss @geekyandgay98 @pagetboobstarcomments @onmykneesformarvel @inlovewithemilyprentiss @aws-l @alexusonfire

[deadpool15]

A game of teasing

What's there to be sad about in life when you managed to bag a gorgeous, adorable, tall golden retriever as a girlfriend. Exactly I win bitches, Zamora wins again hoes. Laying in bed while thinking about my baby, Haechi. She is most likely stuck in practice right now. Wolf'lo has been training hard ever since then got invited to SWF2. It was kinda new to all of them, with them obviously being amazing in dance battles, though choreography was a whole other story that I won't get into right now.

So, after waking up this morning to those most amazing orgasm, might I add. I sat here contemplating, should I be a good girl or just add a little spice to her say. "I mean, she is probably so bored and missing me so much right now. Therefore she won't be anything but happy. Then again, she might come out home all mad and shit, but either way, I get what I want. So it doesn't matter. " Welp, there goes that good girl bullshit for the day.

So, I jump up running to my closet with a wicked smile on my face. She is gonna love this so much. I grab one of Haechi's shirts and take off everything else. Then, I ran back out of my room, getting everything in place. To those of you who are able to take good ass pictures with no effort, I hope you get sent to the deepest pit in hell. Literally fucking witchcraft. I grab my ringlight last to take a couple with it, then a couple without. Nudes are all about the detail, baby. Then, I sit directly in front of the mirror with my legs open, giving her a nice view if you know what I mean.

" I'm such a thoughtful girlfriend. I would kill to marry myself." I sit there adorning the photos and pick out which ones to share. "Got to make sure she gets a good show, not too much, though she can come home for the full thing." I send all the messages while saying, "I miss you so much baby", yea that's gonna get her. I lay back down, waiting for my evil plan to take effect and laugh.

While I was sitting in the studio, I got a message from my girlfriend. "Look at her all love struck," I hear Halo telling the entire dammm world. And try to cover up my blushing face while opening up my phone. It's barely been a few hours, and she already misses me, "Wow, she just can't get enough of me, huh? Maybe one day you guys will be able to experience these feelings, you know." I say all cocky while looking at my crew.

I go back to looking through my phone scrolling on Instagram. Oo right my baby sent me a message, I'm so forgetful it's literally sad. I open up my messages and see her text. Aww, she misses me. I knew it. Then I scroll up, and my fucking jaw drops. Omg. I log back out and log back in to make sure I'm not seeing anything. Then I see it again. "Why is she fucking doing this to me?" I sit there with my jaw clenched staring at the photo. How the fuck is she so wet? I almost forget I'm in a room full of people until I hear Halo tell everyone breaks over.

Haechi- You think that shit is fucking funny, huh? I'm gonna be back home in a couple of hours and your ass is mine.

I heard a notification pop up on my phone and stop reading the book that I had picked up while I was waiting on Haechi to reply. I quickly read the text messages and smirked just the reaction I wanted. Actually, what if she breaks me. "I didn't really think this through, did I?" Well, it's too late now. Now or never. I open up the camera and pose while lifting up my or her shirt technically to reveal my pierced nipples. Then reply back.

Zamora- I was just trying to give you some motivation, baby. Show you how much I love you. Can't wait for you to get home, that is if you can keep up.

I look at the message before I send it and just stare at the screen. Before I know it, my finger has already hit send. "Maybe I took it too far. She is totally gonna break my vagina." It's fine. I don't mind not walking. Ok, I take it back. I'm scared now.

Haechi- I'm on my way, had to leave work early since my girlfriend is such a fucking slut. It's never enough for you, is it. Eat you out this morning, and you still pull some shit like this. Call out from work tomorrow. You're gonna be busy. I'll make sure of it.

[666writingcafe]

Art Final (NSFW)

Partially inspired by this piece: 子猫 on Tumblr (For Your Eyes Only)

Introduction

Art class was never MC's strong suit. They passed the human world version of the class just fine, but they were never good enough to feature in any school art galleries. So, when they were allowed the opportunity to choose electives at RAD, they dismissed the idea of taking an art class immediately.

Imagine MC's surprise when the most experienced art teacher--the one that is a professional Devildom artist in his own right--reaches out to them to help him conduct his final exam. The request was simple: model for the student as they recreate their form on the canvas.

It wasn't until the first day of the two-week long exam period that MC realized that they would be posing nude and that all of the adults they've grown close to during their stay at the Devildom were in this particular class. At least it was a one-on-one session, and MC's all for trying new things.

"Each of you will have one day to create your masterpiece," the professor tells the class. "Your model is in the next room." He gestures at the closed door to the right of him. "Your time starts as soon as you enter the room, so I suggest you come up with your composition idea while you wait for your turn. With that in mind, first up is..."

____________________

Levi

It takes him about 20 minutes to come to terms with the fact that he has to paint a nude MC. He doesn't even enter the room at first; instead, he opens the door, peeks in, and slams it shut again. Eventually, however, he's able to compose himself long enough to be in the same room as MC.

The idea of the composition comes from MC. You see, there's several boxes of props in the room, along with lots of furniture. One of the many items is a very ornate version of a pirate captain's hat. So, MC suggests to Levi that they can pose on one of the couches while wearing the hat and pretending to eat grapes.

Levi gets a B for his efforts.

____________________

Barbatos

The only reason why the butler is even in this art class is so that he can keep an eye on Diavolo. Throughout the term, the professor has praised his technical skills, but notes that his pieces lack emotion.

Barbatos' final piece, however, has the opposite problem. One glimpse of his work reveals raw, unfiltered emotions, but the piece itself is quite messy and nearly incoherent. Some of that is because he just starts working the moment he gets settled in the room instead of directing MC to pose for him. In fact, he doesn't say a word to them at all, which is quite uncharacteristic of the butler.

The professor gives him an A.

____________________

Diavolo

The Demon Prince has a clear idea of what he wants to do with MC as soon as he sees them: imagine them as royalty. It takes some time to come up with everything he needs, but eventually he finds a throne chair, a crown, a staff, and an animal pelt.

Unfortunately for Diavolo, he keeps getting distracted by sexual daydreams, and he barely finishes the painting on time. If it weren't for the fact that MC had to hold their pose, they would have slapped Diavolo across the face to get him to focus on his project instead of their body.

Final grade: a C.

____________________

Belphie

The youngest demon brother thinks outside of the box. Instead of using a blank canvas to depict MC, he decides to use MC as the actual canvas itself. Thankfully, there's plenty of body paint in the art room, so Belphie is able to execute his idea.

Staying above the waistline, Belphie depicts the night sky on MC's body. He enjoys the process, since he's combining two of his favorite things into one product. There's a lot of blues and purples in the piece. As for his behavior, he's quite professional, asking MC if they are alright throughout the day.

Final grade: an A.

____________________

Mammon

The Avatar of Greed is one of the students that fails to turn in anything, so he automatically fails the final. His reaction is similar to Levi's, except that he never goes back in the room and instead walks out of the classroom. Even when the professor tells him that he'll fail the class if he doesn't complete this final, Mammon refuses to do it. Why? The world may never know.

____________________

Lucifer

Lucifer's work can get quite dark, and this particular piece is perhaps his most twisted. Of course, being the gentleman that he is, he discusses the idea to MC to make sure that they're comfortable with his vision, and MC is on board.

Essentially, in Lucifer's final piece for this class, MC is a bloodthirsty demon. Bodies are all around them, and MC laughs with glee, their body covered with blood. Don't worry, though: no one was harmed in the production of the painting. Once Lucifer is satisfied with MC's pose, he's able to create the rest of his piece entirely from his imagination.

Lucifer gets a B, but the professor tells him that he wants to display the piece at his next art showing.

____________________

Satan

To put it simply, Satan turns MC into a cat. Think Cats.

Does more need to be said? I don't think so.

Satan gets a C-.

____________________

Solomon

Surprisingly, Solomon's piece is the most straightforward out of everyone's. He doesn't try to turn MC into something else; he simply paints them as they are.

Everyone's a bit disappointed, for Solomon's work is usually pretty out there, and the professor was lowkey expecting something abstract from him.

Because of this, but also because there's technically nothing wrong with the piece, Solomon receives a B.

____________________

Beel

The Avatar of Gluttony is another student that fails to turn anything in. Believe him, he wants to complete the project. He's not trying to be insubordinate. He simply cannot think of anything. He could have gotten away with it if he had simply told the professor that he felt like MC was too beautiful to replicate on a canvas, because at least that would have gotten him a D, but the problem with Beel is that he's way too honest.

____________________

Simeon

Simeon depicts MC as an angel, which sounds sweet at first. However, Simeon doesn't go for the innocent version that everyone's used to. Instead, he goes the biblical route, and the final result is a bit disturbing (as biblically accurate angels tend to be).

He gets an A because this piece goes the opposite direction of all of his other work.

____________________

Asmo

The Avatar of Lust is the third student to not produce anything for the final. You see, Asmo has the opposite problem that Beel had: he has too many ideas, and he cannot decide which one to execute. MC tries to help him, but their words only seem to make Asmo more indecisive.

[nobedofroses]

December 5th

pairing: Pero Tovar x reader

warnings: fluff, some light smut (thigh grinding)

words: 1.2k

a/n: as always, a bit longer with Pero and it's also set in the vague past. inspo from the quote prompt "I totally definitely did not just watch you chop wood outside” from @toomanystoriessolittletime's winter writing challenge ❄️

Full List

🌨️🌨️🌨️

“If you drop one more egg, I’m going to make you muck out the stables instead of him,” your sister, Martha told you, looking pointedly between you and the hired hand that was currently outside chopping wood. 

You wrenched your attention away from the way his body moved to look at her, heat creeping up your neck. Still, you avoided, “Instead of who?” 

“Oh, do not try to deny it, I’ve been watching you watch him for the past half hour. And you’ve lost one egg and only barely managed to save another you’re so distracted,” she impugned. 

“You have two dozen chickens, it’s not as if we are hurting for eggs,” you muttered, sheepish at having been caught. 

“Regardless, I will not have needless waste in my house because you are staring at the hired hand.” 

“He has a name,” you reminded her, thinking that Pero deserved to be referred to as such. 

“Fine,” Martha acceded. “Stop trying to picture Pero’s nude body and get back to baking. 

Your mouth dropped open in shock that she would even say that aloud, but Martha just laughed loudly and ushered you away from the window. 

___

An hour later, with the cake in the oven and Martha keeping an eye on it, you had been sent to collect the eggs and skim the milk for cream. Skimming the cream was one of your favorite chores, quiet and meditative. The shed it was kept in had an open doorway that faced the house, but from where you were standing, all you could see was the stacked firewood. 

And then a couple minutes later, you could also see Pero, back again with the ax and a cord of wood over his shoulder. He made it look effortless, but you knew it must be ridiculously heavy. The thought of what else he could do with those strong arms made you shiver. 

You lost track of what you were doing for several seconds, just watching him starting to do… whatever it was he was doing. You weren’t paying much attention to the technicalities. 

So you also didn’t notice when Pero looked up and caught sight of you through the doorway. Which meant you just about jumped out of your skin when he spoke. “I hear you are making an almond cake.”

You gasped loud, hand coming to your heart and splashing some of the milk. Luckily it wasn’t the cream or else Martha would have your hide. 

Pero’s eyes got wide and he looked so sweet and sorry you couldn’t help but adore him, “I am sorry, I did not mean to scare you.” 

You stood, having actually finished the skimming while you were distracted, and you wanted to move on before you embarrassed yourself. 

“It’s fine, I was just woolgathering. Um, yes, almond cake, do you like it?” you asked, getting the subject back on track and moving out into the open air. Hopefully the chill would help you think straight. 

“Yes, it reminds me of home,” he told you softly and when you looked up, his warm brown eyes were deep, just asking you to fall into them. 

“What are you— I mean, you were cutting wood earlier, so why are you cutting more now? Do we really need that much?” you laughed awkwardly. 

“This morning I was chopping the logs into pieces and now I am splitting them so they are the right size for the hearth,” he explained, gesturing with his large hands and you got distracted again, wetting your lips as you looked at them. 

Pero noticed your stares, had noticed them for weeks but was waiting for you to decide what you wanted to do. After all, you were the sister of his employer and he was only planning to stay in the area for a few months longer, getting food and board on the way to his own brother. William had a farm with both of their names on it waiting just a mountain away from where you lived. 

In Pero’s distracted daytime fantasies, he pictured wedding you and taking you home with him, coming home to you everyday. 

And in his nighttime fantasies, he pictured what you would feel like under him, how sweet you would taste, the sounds you would make when he touched you. Like how he wanted to touch you now, with the hands you couldn’t stop staring at. 

The two of you were broken from your separate albeit related reveries by the loud squawk of a chicken. 

“I— I have to go collect eggs!” you said, unnecessarily loud and hurried away. 

“Yes, of course,” Pero replied, watching you practically run away from your desire. 

___

That night, long after Martha and your brother-in-law, John, were asleep, you snuck downstairs, avoiding the creaky steps, because you needed one more sliver of the spice cake. Martha had finished it with her famous orange marmalade icing and it might’ve been the best thing you ever tasted. 

The fire in the hearth had dwindled, leaving just coals, but you didn’t need the light to find your way, you were more than familiar with the layout of the house. What you weren’t expecting was to trip over a pair of boots as you walked past the chair closest to the fire. 

For the second time that day, your hand flew to your heart and Pero apologized for scaring you. 

“I must have fallen asleep reading. The fire is low, I should build it before I return to my quarters,” he said, referring to the loft that was on the far end of the house from the other bedrooms.

As he spoke, he relit the candle he must have been using to read, just about an inch of it left but enough that it became very clear that he was fully dressed and you were in your white cotton nightgown. It wasn’t revealing, but it was intimate enough that you felt heat creep up your chest and neck in embarrassment. 

“I don’t know, it feels pretty warm in here to me,” you don’t know what possessed you to say that, but his soft, sleepy eyes and the warmth of his face in the candlelight had your heart beating faster. 

“Well maybe you are feverish, because I am cold,” he said with a chuckle. 

“Maybe… maybe I can help you with that,” you told him and took a step forward. And then another. You leaned forward and then, with his help, climbed onto his lap. 

Your hands rested on his shoulders for balance, one knee between his and the other pressed into the side of the overstuffed chair. The skirt of your nightgown had to be rucked up by his rough hands, and you held your breath as you waited for a rip, but he was surprisingly gentle. His hands came to your hips when he was done and you settled your weight down, breathing in deeply when his thigh pressed against the most intimate part of you. 

“Pero,” you breathed, and then he was kissing you. 

His full lips pressed into yours, your arms wrapped around his neck, and he tugged you closer until your chest was flush with his. The thin fabric of your nightgown let him feel your warmth easily, and he moaned into your mouth when he felt your hips move against his thigh. 

He helped you along, moving you in a slow grind until you had to pull away to gasp a quiet whine of his name and your body shook in his arms.

After a couple shaky breaths of calming yourself down and trying to regain some semblance of dignity, you asked, “warmer yet?” 

Pero laughed lightly and kissed your cheek, “Almost, but I think I want more of your heat.”

🌨️🌨️🌨️

[jacksoldsideblog]

Thoughts on time loops and fight club

Time loops are often used as a narrative device to push a character into having a realization about what truly matters, or have them fall in love with someone (I suppose technically a derivative of the first). Suffering be thy teacher for as long as need be. And most writers will accept and lean into the fact that endlessly repeating your days and endlessly dying is a bit horrific, would probably fuck with the psyche, probably not leave someone very healthy. But always, the character toughs it out, they make the realization, they arrange events just right, and they get on with their life supposedly objectively better.

And I think. With so much potential to break someone, what would happen if someone never left? Or, when they left the loop, it wasn't because they improved in any way, but because some aspect of their continued suffering met the arbitrary condition that was placed down upon them in the first place.

And I think about fight club. I think, what if the narrator woke up back on that plane, back on that nude beach, after pulling the trigger.

I think he'd rage. I think he'd fight Tyler right then and there, thinking it was the mistaken impulses of his brain in a fit after his self inflicted massive head trauma. Who cares that Tyler punching back feels real — that Tyler says shit that alludes to everything they went through. The narrator beats Tyler — himself — to death, probably. Or gets restrained, on the plane, and wakes up in a hospital. If he dies that first time I'd imagine it repeats a few times, and he swiftly starts thinking, instead of catharsis, maybe this is hell, and he does not realize how right he is.

Eventually he gets restrained, or can't beat himself quite as badly, Tyler stops him, I don't know — he's in the hospital, tied up, drugged. Et cetera. He thinks he finally woke up. He wonders where the bullet hole is. He sees the date and wonders how much more insane he's become. Tyler is still there. No bullet through his brains. Looking as beat the fuck up as the narrator made him. Saying, for fucks sake, realize already.

The narrator probably kills himself on purpose in that hospital.

And then he is on the plane, beach, whatever again. And Tyler looks at him, says, eternal punishment, for you or me? And laughs.

I think he'd go pretty swift into denial. Doesn't acknowledge Tyler. Knows Tyler is probably running around at night, but if he pretends, maybe he's not. Time passes. Enough time, and then it is the anniversary of him blowing his brains out, and a car hits him full throttle on the street.

He's back at the start. So is Tyler. And maybe, this takes a few times for the lesson to sink in. A few, terribly long times. Because there's a good long while between meeting Tyler and the bomb the building plans. And perhaps, Tyler starts talking to him, always unacknowledged, but less mad. Less upset with being chained in his body. Because damn if he's barely using it. Pathetic, nothing Tyler ever wanted for him, but Tyler knows he's got time now, so fine. The narrator can wait through his silly little tests. Tyler, who says he is the narrator deep down and so the narrator knows this too — Tyler says they're going to die that day that hour that minute no matter what.

And they do. He avoids cars by staying indoors, and chokes on his coffee. He sits in his room, he gets a blood clot. He lets Tyler arrange a team of space monkey doctors that he cannot think too hard about, one of them turncoats and injects air into his jugular. Another time, one stabs him. No number of guards fixes it; he gets caught in the crossfire. The one time he gets everything right, he dies in a second of increased warmth and then sheer nothingness, and wonders if it was a meteor or a nuke.

So. He can't wait it out. Tyler says, I told you so.

Tyler has been cooperative, the past few loops. Friendly. A lot like how he was when the narrator first lived at Tyler's house.

Tyler is the only other person in the loop.

So what if he's not physically real — he's the only other damn person in the loop. That makes him more real than anything else. That makes him more real than the entire repeating pointless universe.

The narrator wonders how many loops it would take for him to forget Tyler isn't real.

A smaller number, if he starts acting that way now.

He lets Tyler draw him in again. They live at Paper Street. They shoot the shit. They do stupid things, develop a fondness for graffiti, become actually good at spraypainting various presidents with their guts hanging out their asses. They go to bathhouses and have a sexual epiphany. They host fight club as an orgy. They hit so many golfballs through the windows of the factory that the owners actually bother to show up.

He goes along with Project Mayhem, aware, knowledgeable this time. They blow up the Parker Morris building and destroy the national museum. Destroy a history that is increasingly becoming nothing more than stage dressing. They bomb the credit card buildings and see that the infrastructure had back ups. Tyler says, shit. The next loop, they bomb the back ups too.

They fight, again, sometimes. It feels real. More real than when he fights other people. His body feels it all new but his mind doesn't.

Tyler kills the president. They start world war three. The narrator sleeps and dies for five cycles straight. He's on Oprah. He incorporates women into Project Mayhem and creates a nascent military state. Tyler trains his body into being able to suck its own cock. He goes entire loops without being himself, only waking up from Tyler's control because Tyler never wants to feel the murder du jour.

He loses track of time. It starts being a surprise when he dies and is back at the start. It's surprising Tyler, too. They start waking up in the psych ward, having gone to the wrong ally too soon, having burned their bridges before they had all their cards.

His brain can't handle this. It was a miracle it could handle Tyler.

He's free from history. Free from time. Free from consequences. He has chaos unimagineable locked into a tight, neat, orderly package.

He's forgetting life outside the loop. He wonders why he's even here. He dies on the streets. He freezes to death.

He kills himself in the first few minutes of 20, 30 loops in a row.

Everything is a stageplay. He feels like he's wearing squibs when he's gunned down by cops. Tyler's fists feel like the barest daydream of before. He doesn't remember before.

Tyler says, I'm not sticking around for this. And that's worse. Because then the narrator is the only one aware. He watches for signs of Tyler puppeting his body as he sleeps, vaguely remembering that being a worry sometimes. He sees nothing. Tyler is not there at the start, not there at the end.

Time blurs. The loops blur. He goes catatonic, for a while.

He's back on the beach. On the plane. Tyler is there. Tyler says, can't I be done? Isn't my purpose done? Don't you get it, I shouldn't exist. The universe can't handle it. Let me go. Please.

Tyler doesn't beg.

Please.

The time loop hasn't only worn on him.

Mayhem and freedom mean nothing. Not in a vaccuum, a scripted world he's steadily playing out all the options of. Tyler toured the world, it meant nothing.

Let me be done.

Turns out, Tyler can kill himself and it'll stick. Maybe it's because he waited long enough that the narrator doesn't remember what connects them. Maybe not. Either way, the narrator has long given up hope of that working for him.

He wakes up in the psych ward. He knows he'll be leaving soon. Back to the beach, back to the plane. He doesn't look at clocks, he doesn't let people tell him the time. He doesn't remember when. He'll be going soon. Whenever that is.

[oonajaeadira]

I'll Never Fall In Love Again: Scene 7: The Sex Scene

Fandom: The Bubble

Pairing: Dieter Bravo x f!reader

Warnings: story jumps back and forth in time, playing fast and loose with "how things are done" in the film industry, consensual troublemaking with just a little boundary testing, frottage and thigh-riding (nothing super explicit but still very much a focus of action), messy feelings, indulgent yearning, angst, performance anxiety.

A/N: Thanks for your patience on this. It's nice to get back to these two idiots. I went light on sex and heavy on feelings and I hope that's okay with y'all because you know my kind of porn is feeling porns, right? Right. Okay. Let the disaster continue.

On film, kissing can’t be faked. Sex most certainly can.

When you enter the dim studio, Natalie and Nate, your stand-ins, lay artfully folded around each other in the back seat of a sedan, bared to the world in nothing but nude underwear as the crew work to set proper lighting levels and the DP makes sure this tight shot’s gonna work.

Unlike Natalie, you’re in a skirt and blouse, but only for the time being–it will be Dieter’s task to open that blouse and get that skirt rucked up around your hips soon enough.

Shit. You really should have taken some time to mentally prepare yourself for this. Taken a page out of Dieter’s book and, what? Had a stiff drink? (Heh. Stiff.) The butterflies that are escaping the cage of your stomach and eating at the supports in your knees should have been tended to prior to this shoot–

But then Dieter comes and takes a stand next to you and those nerves just…go away.

Yes, you both had your feelings out the other night, it should be awkward now, but it isn’t. There’s understanding now. Healing is coming. Has started already. And there’s never been anyone you’ve trusted more on set than Dieter fucking Bravo. You know he’s a pro. He’s a mess and a menace. But he’ll take care of you. Still.

“Hey,” he bumps a shoulder into yours. “You wanna have sex with me?”

Smiling down at your feet, you nod. “Yeah, let’s get this over with.”

Maybe not the best choice of words, even jokingly. You can feel his energy droop beside you, almost hear the wattage of his good mood bawooing out. “We okay, Cakes?”

Reaching for his hand, your fingers weaving into his own, you serve him a confident smile. “Of course. I’m glad you’re here.”

Like you have been for so many of my major career firsts.

The frantic kissing and the tussle in the rear car seat goes well; it’s okay to let your character get lost in his, to lean in and borrow from the way you and Dieter claw at each other. He kisses you hungrily, hands grasping your jaw, sucking in any breath you’ll give him, taking control of the kiss so you can concentrate on stripping him of his shirt and pants in the confines of the car seat as parsed out with Annie and the intimacy coordinator. But it's work and it's professional. Mostly.

You’d fall in love with his talent if you actually thought he was acting.

A few takes with resets of hair and makeup, a few different angles and a few shared giggles, and a few hours later you’re moving into the full shot, from the moment of first contact all the way through the deed.

And the kissing continues to go well–easy, pleasing, second nature. You’ve done enough takes to be able to get his clothes peeled away with ease.

But it’s when it comes to exposing you–to his big fingers somehow making short work of your dainty blouse buttons, to his palms sweeping up the sides of your thighs to push your flounces up and away–something yips in you, steps over a line into an unknowing void and you fixate.

It would be the same with any other actor, but it seems so strange here with Dieter–technically your husband–that you’ve never been in this state of undress with each other. With your breasts out, him slotted between your legs in nothing but a genital sock thrusting without actually making contact other then his hot breath in your neck and hands curling under your back and would it be better if he was making contact and you think about that night on the couch and what came after and your head’s not in the game here and Annie makes you take one shot, two, five–

“Cut, please,” Annie begs after take eight. “Take a break you two. Reset. We’re gonna try another angle.”

This isn’t good. Dieter peels himself from you, and you look anywhere but his face–although you have to avoid staring at the cock sock, at his whole bronzy naked body, really.

Something’s not working here.

And you both know it’s you.

A PA approaches Dieter with a robe open to receive him, but before you can ask him for reassurance, he simply snatches the robe as he passes the poor assistant, lazily throwing it on and padding off the set into the darkness of the crew area, covering his naked ass in his own time. “Hey. Annie, can I talk to you?”

Shit. FUCK.

It’s very telling that neither of them are turning to you immediately. Annie giving up on offering direction and Dieter has no encouragement in him anymore. Like they’re gonna huddle up and decide what to do with you. The thought of disappointing not just one but both of them–a director you admire and a friend and fellow actor who you had looked up to not so long ago–is heartbreaking and ego-shattering in so many ways and imposter syndrome shrinkwraps itself around your heart, preserving it in a marinade of cringe.

Why? Why can’t you just portray sexual pleasure? Sex can be faked! Tap into the arc of your character using this man who’s crazy about her to get off? You’ve got real life experience to draw on, and–if you're sly about it–you can play a little of life imitating art here….no. You don't need that. This shouldn’t be hard.

But it is. And you know full well why.

You can just make out Annie’s serious face and Dieter’s waving arms over by the craft table.

Shit. Well, union rules are union rules, and you might as well take advantage of the break. If you make it quick, you can get all the tears out and still swing by makeup to cover it up before anyone misses you.

____________

That summer after Cannes and Seattle was a whirlwind. Fall of Timon had its major release and there were regional premieres and panels, talk shows and interviews, everyone fawning over the director and Davey and Dieter; those few who paid attention to your involvement mainly asking about your experience with those two and then of course your marriage to the latter.

Auditions came hot and heavy. Dieter had some last minute ADR work for Hunger Strike and then took on a voice acting gig for a major video game company, so he rarely allowed himself to speak much after hours in an effort to manage his instrument.

But there were a few nights that hot summer, balcony windows open, curtains billowing and blowing through your room out into the lounge where you and Dieter sweated against the couch, taking turns getting up for cold beer and ice cream, laughing through a classic 80’s romcom. Those were good nights. Happy nights. You-and-your-best-friend nights.

By the end of August he was gone. Venice’s Film Fest first, then Toronto’s to promote Hunger Strike. Straight from there back over the ocean to Jordan for filming a season on a sci-fi series.

He called almost every night. Not long. Just a harried recap of his day–your morning–the shoot, his victories, his irritations, outings with the cast, hot goss. And you fought so hard against your jealousy–of him for his adventure, and of the cast for getting his presence. You found any and every excuse to be out at night with friends rather than streaming tv by yourself in a big, empty house.

But more and more he’d tire of talking and beg you to tell him about your day. Well. Your yesterday. If you didn’t have much to tell, he’d push you for details of a meal you ate or what you wore or even what the weather was like. It became clear that he was growing weary of being away from home and just wanted to hear you chatter, that your voice was his bedtime routine, that he would sleep better just hearing you complain about traffic.

And more and more, you realized your day was better when you could speak to him at the beginning of it.

And soon enough it was Thanksgiving week, Hunger Strike’s Stateside premiere, and Dieter was coming home. His schedule was tight–a mere five days to hit the premiere, the afterparty, the talk shows, a few auditions, and a recording session–and yet, he took you by surprise and reserved an evening just for the two of you.

Dieter new people, like any celebrity might. And one of the people he knew–an old college friend–happened to be working an install at Geffen Contemporary, able to open the gallery after hours for a private walkthrough on the weekend before the exhibit was set to open.

Takashi Murakami–one of your mutual favorites. A surprise for you. And as much as he was happy to get the chance to see the exhibit before he flew back to Jordan, he spent most of the time there just enjoying your delight at all of the bright colors, the insipid smiling flowers, the crazed and euphoric animals, the fountains of anime jizz.

Standing in front of a floor-to-ceiling mural of repeating cartoon faces, you’d turned to him, grinning like an idiot, only to find him regarding you with the same expression.

“This is a nice treat. Thank you, Deets.”

“Happy birthday,” he beamed, severely proud of himself.

You laughed, your nose wrinkling in confusion. “It’s not my birthday.”

“I know,” his smile faded a bit, “but we didn’t do yours properly. So since we’re done here, we’re going to the weiner stand.”

“Is that a metaphor?”

He quirked an eyebrow. “Do you want it to be?” But your pseudo-husband granted you mercy, turning to go before your face betrayed the whammy he’d just dealt you, leading the way out of the gallery and into a silent Uber. The trip ended up with the two of you sharing a messy order of Holee Molee Fries with your hands, standing on the sidewalk in front of the hot-dog shaped walk-up eatery under the husky rose and umber L.A. sunset.

He always looked so content and warm and beautiful in the twilight hour.

You weren’t prepared for Hunger Strike. Or rather, how it would make you feel.

The premiere was grand, fun. Davey and half the cast of Timon were there making the occasion a mini-reunion, and Dieter’s stylist had struck up a deal with de la Renta, so you were matched in a tasteful floral cocktail gown from the same series as Dieter’s suit. Which meant plenty of couple photos on the carpet. It wouldn’t have been wrong to slip off and let him take the spotlight alone, except he simply wouldn’t let you, holding tight to your arm and joking that you were his fanciest and most slimming accessory–nobody would notice that he’d gained weight since the filming if they were all drooling over you.

But you weren’t fooled. And he wasn’t trying to fool you. Just trying to keep you beside him because he wanted you there. Simple.

It wasn’t until he found you in a quiet corner of the afterparty that he was able to seek your opinion, your mind whirring with the premiere you’d just witnessed, Dieter’s performance brilliant, unnerving, inspired, breathtaking–leagues more surprising and career-making than his work in Fall of Timon.

“Hey, I wondered where you’d gone,” he breathed, relieved to be away from the crowd for a hot second. “You okay?”

He was quiet while you gathered your thoughts, while you tried to articulate the swirl of emotions after watching your best friend–your mentor, your damned fake husband–fucking kill it on that screen. Finally, all you could manage was to pull him into an embrace that he eagerly returned, to press a kiss into his cheek and tell him, “That was astounding, D. I’m so, so proud of you.”

In those scant seconds after you let him go, he was transformed–haloed in pride, drunk on your praise, even though he’d had more thorough words from the mouths of a hundred guests–you watched the world begin to fall away from him as his eyes held yours, yearned after more. There was something he wanted to say, something that started with, “Yeah? You really think so,” and might have ended in god knows what if he’d been allowed to finish, but a couple of VIP guests had noticed the lack of crowd around you and paid no respect for the private moment, swooping in to take the opportunity to have you both to themselves.

As it was, all you got out of the night were some blisters from your designer heels and a press photo someone had snapped behind your back--your arms around him and your lips to his cheek, his fingers gripping the back of your dress and his face buried against your shoulder, eyes squeezed tight in agonized bliss as if your approval had meant more to him than the whole theater combined.

You refused to entertain the possibility of that being the truth.

You found a printout of the photo hung on the refrigerator after he flew back out to Jordan the next morning. Like a toddler that did a good job on his spelling test and wanted you to remember the best of himself.

You had a suspicion that a twin printout was in a bag on its way to Jordan.

____________

“What’s going on?”

The crew is in a flurry, doing final light checks and adjusting the car set when you’re called back into the soundstage after being redressed and reset again.

Dieter’s back in his full costume as well. Looks like it’s another full take again.

“They’re doing a slight adjustment on the lighting,” he says, watching them. “Talked to Annie. We’re gonna try something different.”

“Uh…what?” You’d just gotten used to the fact that this scene was happening and now they’re changing it? “Does the I.C. know?”

He shrugs. “She’s not here. What she doesn’t know won’t get her buttplug all twisted ‘round.”

“And were you two going to clue me into these changes or…..?”

Here’s where he finally turns to you, but can’t seem to meet your warning gaze for long, chewing on the inside of his cheek. God, he’s pretty when he drops all his swagger. If only Dieter knew how good vulnerability looked on him….“You trust me, ‘Cakes, yeah?”

An old warmth returns, melting you like the earth turning back towards the sun in spring. It’s an instant recognition that whatever he said to Annie was about you–and in your best interest–and just like he did during Timon, he wants to help you again.

“‘Course I do.”

One of the assistants calls over to the two of you, ready for you to return to the set, and you follow close to Dieter as he whispers, “Listen. You’re just wearing a snatch patch, right?”

“W-what? Yes?”

“Good. A full genital guard would have been rough."

The assistant dressers crowd you, doing a last minute swat for lint, trapping fly-aways, fixing your waistline. “Um, okay, why–”

“Alright, you two,” Annie appears beside you, all smiles, her tiny frame belying the big sass that you know lurks underneath. “So Dieter and I talked and he made me see the very rare error of my ways and here’s the deal.”

Your director goes on to explain that Dieter alerted her to the fact that this is an escalation point for your character, that little by little you’ve been taking control of your situation and this is the moment you take control of Dieter’s character. Trapping you under him was cutting you off from options to express that.

“We’re putting you on top,” Annie says to you, continuing when she sees your dropped jaw. “You let Dieter guide. This isn’t about you seducing him or dominating him. It’s about you learning to let go and enjoy him, to own your own sexual freedom. So we’ll start with the buildup as is, disrobing as is, but then let him pull you on top. It’ll give you more opportunity to play.” Pinching your chin and giving it a sisterly shake, she growls, “You got this, kid. Feel free to really give into her wildness. And remember it’s your call if you need to stop at any time. Dieter leads, but you’re in control here? Okay? Now. If you want to rehearse a take, that’s your right, but I’d like to roll for spontaneity’s sake.”

Looking away from her glittering, black eyes, to Dieter–standing there like a taught rubber band, his arms hanging but his twitchy fingers betraying his trapped kinetics–and back to Annie, you give her a nod. “Let’s do it.”

A shake of the shoulders, a fist bump with your scene partner. A silent commitment to do better for both of them.

And while Annie gets situated behind the monitor and the DP synchs, you keep Dieter’s focus, allowing yourself just for the moment–for the hour, the day–to fall back in love with him.

You wonder if he senses this change. You’re certainly sensing one in him, his fidgets melting, his jaw unclenching.

You both know what to do.

His kissing has improved since……well. Perhaps he’s more confident when he’s acting rather than being drunk or jet-lagged. But right now…now he’s intoxicating. Traces your jaw and ears with the soft bend of his nose and plush of his lips, taking care not to let his scruff tear you up too much. But that doesn’t mean he doesn’t know how to devour your breath, keep your tongue dancing tempo with his, put his big hands in all the right places to press out all your tension.

It’s not even whispered, just mouthed against your lips: “That’s good.”

His shirt comes off first, and you take the lead in stripping away his jeans, but then the choreography changes as he slows you, brings your focus to him, pushing up your skirt in order to hold your hips and guide you to his lap, pulling you into a straddle, watching your expression as you land.

Only the thin fabrics of his genital sock and your modesty patch separate your softer sections from his harder ones.

And he drags you against him.

And you gasp.

There’s a moment where you pause with your eyes and mouth wide in surprise, his air trapped within him as he waits to make sure he hasn’t crossed the line.

He has.

But your skirt covers things. And what Annie and the crew don’t know can’t hurt them.

Suddenly you’re in the mood to match his trouble.

And you begin to slowly ride.

And in his escaping breath, there’s a “Yeah.”

His hands give you a gentle pull and leave you with the subtle direction to keep rocking while he takes his time working his way through your blouse buttons, pushing the fabric down over your shoulders but not your arms, leaving it to drape artfully from elbow to elbow across your back, giving you a little more cover, a little more security, allowing his naked character to be the vulnerable one.

And as you roll against him, wetting your breath-dried lips, he watches you, checks in with you.

You okay with this?

Yeah.

A rise of his hips. I’m gonna pick it up.

Please.

That’s good, Babycakes. Just like this.

And all of a sudden, it clicks. It doesn’t matter that the set is full of people, doesn’t matter that Annie is hoping for a saving take, doesn’t matter that millions of people will watch this intimate moment between the two of you.

All that matters is that you get to have it with him.

As he rocks you closer to breaking, your lips part, your eyes close, and your forehead lands upon his.

“That’s it, Baby,” he breathes, his words just hurried shapes and pops, “I want you to feel it this time. I want you to have this. I’m here. Use it. I want you to have it.”

Later, Annie will tell you what a perfect arch your back makes when your character finally lets go.

____________

After the Hunger Strike premiere, he called less often. He was bouncing around Europe, shooting a commercial, visiting friends, auditioning a few treatments, and when he was back in Jordan, he was far enough off the grid that he’d have to use the production’s satellite phone to call and that was getting governmental aerospace involved, so communication slowed to a crawl.

You’d had an unsent message sitting in your drafts for weeks and was just about to delete it one dreary January morning as you lazed in bed. Alone. In a big, empty house.

But then the phone rang in your hands and you dropped it on your face with a loud curse, fumbling and snatching it back with the hope that the call was coming from the person your message was addressed to so you wouldn’t have to say it–

“SWEETHEART!”

No such luck. “Heyyy Morgan.”

“Well, you did it, kitten,” your agent’s bangles rang over the phone as you imagined her clutching her fists and doing a little shimmy, “congratulations!!!”

“Huh?”

“Wait. Are you kidding me? The nominations dropped today. Don’t tell me you slept in.”

And all of a sudden you were a windmill of arms and legs and flying sheets, a shrieking and thudding mess across the carpet as you ran to the desk to open a laptop. “Shit! Tell me!!!”

“Supporting actress, hon. I TOLD YOU.” Morgan knew you’d be sitting there in a permanent gasp, so she took the opportunity to spill. “Fall of Timon is one of the big takers; film, director, special effects, supporting actress, lead actor–”

“Dieter?” you squealed. “Oh shit, he’s going to be so excited–!”

“Ah, no. I mean, yes, but Davey’s been nominated for Timon. Dieter did receive a lead nom, but it’s for Hunger Strike.” As if she could feel the turmoil in your silence, Morgan laced her voice with a smile pushed forward. “And this is marvelous; the press will be all over you two, the power couple who have to war with rooting for their spouse or their project. Good visibility.”

“Well,” you force a chuckle, “I mean, yeah. Davey’s my costar. But of course I’ll pull for Dieter because I know he’ll be pulling for me.”

“Yes. Although. He’s going to have to support Chelsea as well.”

“Chelsea? What? …Oh.” Chelsea Seagate. His nemesis in Hunger Strike. “But…that’s easy, right? She would be up for leading actress, so–”

“The studio thought she’d have a better chance at taking supporting, so that’s where they championed her.”

“Oh.” Direct competition.

Somehow you’d made it through the rest of the conversation. Somehow you’d managed to fake full enthusiasm for Morgan’s sake while you were sitting stunned on the edge of your bed. Somehow you’d let her congratulations sink in.

But you’d also fallen back onto the mattress, all fetal position and stunned silence.

It wasn’t anything to cry over. But your adrenaline was running high off your own nomination and you were stupidly excited for Dieter of course.

If he had been there, it wouldn’t have been an issue. You would have hugged and jumped up and down and called in a mess of takeout and downed some edibles and just been happy for each other.

But he wasn’t there. And you felt it. Had been feeling it for weeks and living in denial that it meant anything. The year was close to being over and there was no need to complicate things. Catching feelings wasn’t part of the deal and the logistics of being tied to Dieter Bravo for a long haul just weren’t built on solid enough ground.

Especially since he’d been calling less. Being out of country meant he could probably mess around easier without anyone finding out. He was doing his best, keeping his promise, slowly repairing his image and not making you look foolish for marrying a–well, a bit of a slut, really, if reputation served. And if he was getting his dick on, well, he’d been discreet and you could appreciate that.

You told yourself he was having his fun but being discreet for you. There was no way you’d believe he was denying himself for your sake. Not Dieter. Entertaining that thought would be like admitting that…

That you didn’t want him to.

Shit.

Laying with your cheek to the sheets, squinting in the cold January sun, a thumb-drag across your phone opened it to your messages. It was easy enough at first to avoid the unsent one.

--Congratulations, D!

Still skipping past the unsent text.

--I’m so proud of you!

You should have closed the phone, but your heart teetered on the edge of a gulf, hovering over the send icon.

There had to be a different way to say it.

--If you were here, I’d take you out to celebrate.

It was the wrong thing to say, because it was true.

And it hurt. And the realization of what you were then admitting to yourself pulled the tears out even faster. All the times you almost told him out of some nagging need, and then, as if he knew you needed to hear from him he’d call and then it just lived there in your drafts, but oh god, this was a big twist of the knife, and it hurt, and you just thought, fuck it, and hit send.

--I miss you so much, Dieter.

____________

Silence.

Stupid. For the next week you tried to push the mental groan of anguish out of your head. This is why you should never text when you’re emotional, you big dummy. He might have been too far out on location. Or trying to text and it didn’t come through. There was no reason to believe he was ignoring you or you’d overstepped. After all, it was text and didn’t have intonation behind it. You could still be his best friend and miss him. That was allowed.

No need to fret.

Anything would be preferable to silence though.

What was going to buoy you was a celebratory get together at Davey’s place that weekend. An invite went out to cast and crew of Timon, and Saturday night saw old friends converging in Beverly Hills, Davey and his partner Mark’s mid-century home still lit up from Christmas.

It was exactly what you needed to relax and find your smile, to be among friends, and, of course, proceed to get just a bit more than tipsy thanks to the catered bartender.

Davey mentioned that he’d gotten into pinball lately and at one point in the evening a friend asked to see his collection, so the whole party took a detour to the outbuilding that he’d turned into a throwback dive-bar setup with nine vintage pinball machines.

Everyone was crowded around Mark, watching him play for the high score on the very suggestive cowboy machine that would trip the bucking bronco. He’d just missed, and there was a loud, raucous groan, that ended in Davey cheering, “Well fuck you, you son-of-a-bitch Oscar-traitor! Aren’t you supposed to be in Egypt or some such shit?”

The group spun as a messy whole to find Dieter standing in the doorway, offering up a dumb grin and a wave, causing everyone to whoop.

You were too drunk to feel anything but delight and shock, and it must have shown, because once he saw you in the crowd–saw you gasping smile and brimming eyes–he came straight at you, bowling you backward in a sloppy embrace, growling contentment as everyone else slapped and patted his back in welcome.

“I missed you too,” he mumbled against your shoulder. “Surprise!”

And everything that felt broken in you found its way back into place.

He made the rounds at the party, said his hellos to friends, but kept you close by until it was just the two of you creating your own little bubble, both leaning head and shoulder against a wall in the hallway–you a little overwhelmed with drink and him jet-lagged–explaining that he’d hoped to be here a day or two sooner, but there were re-routes and delays and he’d be flying back as soon as he could guarantee a stand-by. He’d literally been traveling over 24 hours just to surprise everyone and come celebrate.

And you’d stood there, asking him questions about the location and the shoot, listening, laughing a little too hard, hanging on every word, holding his hand as if he’d fly away the second you weren’t tying him to you. But he wasn’t going anywhere at that moment. He was as grounded to the moment as you were.

Maybe an hour? Two? Another drink? An Uber ride home. Laughter. You almost dropped your keys on the doorstop trying to unlock the door.

“You wanna see my house? It’s really big and I live here all alone,” you joked, chuckling as you kicked off your shoes and stumbled into the dark living room, your oncoming headache keeping you from turning on the light.

Dieter followed, but didn’t join you in the merriment.

“I’m sorry for not calling more, Cakes. We’re literally staying with the Bedouins, there’s nothing out there–”

“Hey. You don’t have to apologize to me. If I need company I know where to find it.”

That made him smirk. “Yeah? You’d cuck me in my own house?”

“Ah–” stammering, you tried to make light of what you assumed was a joke. “That’s not the kind of company I meant. Besides, you’re the one out there away from prying eyes with the desert roses, Mr. Bravo. So. No pointing fingers at me.”

“That’s what you think?” You couldn’t see his face in the dim light, but his voice told a story of quiet disappointment. Oh. So not a joke then. “I flew back here to surprise you.”

You had to put some mental distance between what he was saying and what you hoped it meant. “And to go to the party.”

“Because I knew you’d be there. I wanted to get home earlier so we could go together. Like we're meant to.”

You wished a lot of things in that moment, the main one being that you were more sober.

You didn’t get that wish. But you did get another one.

Because he didn’t pull back when you crashed your mouth into his. He didn’t push you away when you wrapped your arms around him. And even when the momentum of a few kisses pushed his calves against the couch and he lost balance and fell onto it, he was the one who reached up and pulled you onto his lap and kept begging you silently not to stop.

Delirium. Bliss. You were both sloppy, but equally present and willing. “Holy shit your lips are soft. Like pillows or some shit,” he mumbled, unable to help himself.

At one point you felt the evening dragging you down and you could sense yourself slipping into fatigue, threatening to steal precious hours with him away from you, but you fought it, trying to crank it back up by reaching for his belt.

He laughed softly against your lips as he gently moved your hand away. “Mmmmnnnope. You’re drunk, ladybug.”

“All the easier for you to take advantage.”

“I know,” he groaned, just a shadow of regret coloring it. “Another time maybe.”

“But you came all this way,” you whined, reaching again for his buckle and then switching to a purr. “Don’t you want to sleep with your wife?”

That made him stop. “Fuck, you’re making this hard on me.” He pulled your hand away again, this time guiding it up to receive a kiss to the knuckle. “No means no, missus.”

Oh shit. Thinking you’d really gone too far, misread the situation–how?--you shifted backward, moving to get up.

“No, no. Wait. C’mere.” Hands on your hips guided you back and he put a thigh between yours. Urging you to sit, he pulled you back to his mouth as he whispered, “Just. I can’t… Not me. Let me help you.”

And he did. Although he denied you any payback. He simply held you, gave you his kisses and his thigh, and your head swam and your desire glowed. But each sigh got longer, longer, longer…

Until you woke up the next morning on the couch, covered with a blanket, a glass of water on the coffee table in front of you twinkling in the cold wintry morning sun, the spike of pain in your head matching the one of complete mortification in your heart.

____________

I want you to feel it this time. I want you to have this. I’m here. Use it. I want you to have it.

Standing in the trailer at the end of the day, you flip through the divorce papers absently, unfocused, not really seeing anything but a word here and there; “differences,” “lack,” “unable,” “resolve.” Yours is the only signature. It’s inelegant–either your pen didn’t have enough ink at first or you hesitated–

“Hey.” Dieter stands in the doorway, confused, not expecting to find you in his trailer. As you turn toward him, he notices the papers in your hand and cringes in recognition, sucking in a rallying breath as he enters and pulls the door closed behind him. “That mad, huh. Listen, Cakes–”

But his jaw drops as you grip the top of the small packet….

…and give it all a neat tear down the middle.

Dropping each half to your sides, it signals an end to something between you that isn’t your marriage.

He waits for you. A little bit anxious. A little bit hopeful. Expectant and quiet.

And you make him wait.

Then you simply place what’s now garbage in the bin.

“I see you’re still in your robe.”

“I see you’re still in yours.”

“That was some trick you pulled, Mr. Bravo.”

“I can’t tell if you’re mad.”

“I’m not.”

He’s still not sure where this is going, keeps watching you with those same puppy eyes, Fight sitting on one shoulder, Flight on the other, waiting for a million shoes to drop.

“You didn’t finish during the scene.” You say, pointing to a shape that’s hiding under his robe. “How very professional of you. I suppose you came in here to take care of it.”

He swallows, nods eagerly, his hope utterly, adorably transparent.

You take a step toward the back where the crash bed is. Jerk a thumb back over your shoulder in its direction. Cock an eyebrow. “Well? I’m sober this time. You wanna consummate this thing or not?”

It’s not his birthday, but you might as well have just told Dieter you were taking him out to the wiener stand.

And this time, it would most definitely be a metaphor.

____________

NEXT

SERIES MASTERLIST

MASTERLIST

[abitohoney]

All I Want for Christmas Is You

Chapter 4 of 6 - Twas the Night Before Christmas AO3 link

CH1 || CH2 || CH3 || CH4 || CH5 || CH6

Sevika x female reader

Rating: Explicit, MDNI, 18+, NSFW

Tags: Sevika/Reader, AU - Modern Setting, Established Relationship, Fluff and Smut, Lesbian Sex, Cunnilingus, Teasing, Humor, Vaginal Fingering, Orgasm Delay (nothing extreme), Begging, Strap-Ons, Face-Sitting, Corny & Cheesy Dialogue, kinda sappy

Word Count: 5.6k

Fic Summary: It’s your first year spending the holidays with Sevika, and though the two of you couldn’t be any different in your level of holiday spirit or view of the traditions that come with it, your shared adoration (and sexual attraction) for each other is more than enough to get both of you through it together.

A collection of little holiday-inspired scenes, technically chronological, but really could be read in any order or as stand-alone oneshots. Includes a nice blend of sugar (fluff) and spice (smut).

Chapter Summary: Twas the night before Christmas, and you had some devious, fun, sexy plans for your girlfriend. An early gift, so to speak. (More smutty good times)

AN: Another fic already complete on AO3 that I'm bringing to Tumblr. Guess it's Xmas in April. 🤷‍♀️

Twas the night before Christmas, and you had some devious, fun, sexy plans for your girlfriend. An early gift, so to speak.

While she’s changing into her pajamas in your shared bedroom, you hide in the bathroom, carefully wrapping said gift.

Standing naked as the day you were born, you take one of two wide, red satin ribbons and wrap it loosely around your waist several times before fashioning a large bow at the front. Turning before the floor length mirror leaning against the wall, you adjust the ribbon until just the top of your ass was covered, and the bow sits perfectly aligned above the apex of your thighs, covering one half of Sevika’s gift . Taking the other ribbon, you slip it around your upper back one time, bringing the ends together across your breasts before tying another neat bow just over the center of your cleavage, the other half of her gift . Spinning around to take one final glance at your handiwork, your lips pull into a confident smile before you quietly pad towards the door that leads to your bedroom.

Slowly pushing the door open just a crack, careful not to let Sevika hear you coming, you peer into the room through the opening.

Sevika stands at the side of the bed furthest from you, her back to you. She's in just her baggy shorts she wears to bed, and starting to push her arms through the sleeves of her oversized t-shirt.

You watch for a moment, transfixed by the muscles along her shoulders and back. Watching as they move and flex as she slips the shirt up over her head and finally down over the view you were admiring.

Afraid she would turn and catch you before you could present yourself properly, you scurry into the middle of the room. Thankfully, she seems to be preoccupied, fiddling with something in her shorts.

That's… odd.

Brushing that thought off, you call to her quietly in a sing-song voice, "Sevika! I have an early present for you!" Fingers entwined between one hand and the other behind your back, you sway back and forth with a coy smile on your face as she turns to face you. "That is, if you're interested," you add.

Sevika's stoic expression fades almost instantly as she takes in the sight of your nearly nude body, only covered by two small ribbons. Those lovely dark lips of her curl into an amused smirk. " If I'm interested?" She scoffs. "Sweetheart, you know damn well I want to unwrap that gift right now."

"I don't know about that," you reply in mock disappointment, "I mean you're just standing there staring. You don't seem too excited to me." You put on your best pout, pushing your bottom lip out and looking down at the floor near the side of your feet.

Bad idea.

You barely have a chance to look back up when you realize she's stalking towards you, her heavy footfalls catching your attention. She's halfway to you when you find her eyes focused on you, and she looks… ravenous . When she reaches out to grab you, you let out a startled squeal and duck beneath her hands. Booking it for the door that leads to the kitchen, you can hear her hot on your trail and you giggle delightedly.

“I don’t think I like having to chase my gift,” Sevika taunts from behind you as you round the kitchen island. “Perhaps you need to be taught a lesson.”

You can tell by the tone in her voice she’s just playing along, not truly upset. And judging by the playfully wicked smile on her face as she approaches the island, she’s enjoying this little game as much as you are. The two of you stand at opposite ends in an impasse. Each waits for the other to make a move. Biting your bottom lip to hide your smile, you watch her carefully, trying to anticipate which way she’ll go.

Sevika arches a single brow, challenging you to move first. When you remain frozen to your spot, she slowly leans forward, then slams her palms down on the counter. The slap of flesh and bang of metal against the hard surface echoes through the otherwise silent room.

Startled, you release another squeal and take off towards the bedroom again with her not far behind you. It was a dumb move though, you realize as you sprint into the bedroom and towards the bathroom. There’s nowhere to go now. You can hear her deep, mocking chuckle behind you. Then the sound of her steady, measured strides.

Past the threshold to the bathroom, you spin to attempt to close the door. You’re too slow. Her large palm reaches out, catching the door before you can close it even half way. And she’s far stronger than you, easily pushing the door back open and sending you stumbling backwards.

“Bad move, sweetheart,” she sneers, her wicked grin revealing a sliver of teeth.

Without taking your eyes off her, you step backwards as quickly as you can, nearly tripping over a laundry hamper in the process. She stalks towards you, unhurried, with her lips curled in the most hungry , sinful smirk. Your lip is still caught between your teeth, but no longer to hold back your playful smile. Now you’re simply nervous, anxious, excited . You know she's got something in store for you, you just don't know what. You continue to back away until your back collides with something solid and unmoving. The palms of your hands press flat against the wall you've just backed yourself into. There’s nowhere to go. You’re trapped. Heart hammering in your chest, you watch with wide eyes as she closes the remaining distance in two long strides.

Sevika stands mere inches from you. Close enough for you to feel the heat emanating from her body. She towers over you, forcing you to have to crane your neck to keep your eyes on her face. “Silly little mouse,” she taunts, placing her palms against the wall on either side of your shoulders. “Teasing a lion?” Her upper lip curls up at the corner as she releases a snarl.

You jump, a pathetic little squeak escaping your throat. And you can tell by the glint in her eyes that she rather enjoyed your reaction.

“And only to get yourself cornered,” she continues to tease. “You know, I actually had an early gift for you as well, but now I'm not so sure you deserve it."

The barely contained mix of excitement and anticipation drains from your face, turning to confusion. "What?" You ask, dumbfounded that she had planned an early gift for you as well. Your mind races over the possibilities.

"It's a shame too," she replies, shaking her head in mock disappointment, "it would have fit perfectly with my gift."

"You- you're not really going to deny me are you?" You whimper, knowing now that the gift is most certainly something geared towards your pleasure.

Her gaze drops from your pleading eyes to your pushed out bottom lip, then further down to your barely covered breasts. "I'll tell you what..." she drawls as she removes her human hand from the wall to run the back of a finger down your exposed cleavage. She grins as you tremble beneath her touch. Eyes back on your face, she offers a proposition, "I'm going to unwrap my present, and if I like what I see, I'll consider letting you unwrap yours."

That brings a small smile to your face. You're certain she'll be pleased. You nod your head, letting her know you understand and agree to the conditions.

Attention back on your chest, she takes one end of the ribbon and slowly, every so slowly, pulls.

Your eyes remain focused on her expression as she pulls one loop of the bow until it pops loose. Her smirk curls higher as she grabs the other end, repeating the process at the same torturous speed. 

As that second loop breaks free, you suck in a deep breath and hold it. That rise of your chest, paired with the slick material of the ribbon, is enough to loosen the knot and send the ribbon slipping down your body to your feet.

Removing her prosthetic hand from the wall, Sevika gently cups both of your naked breasts in each of her hands. Her cold, sharp metal fingers leave goosebumps across the skin of one. While her hot, calloused flesh fingers warm the skin of the other. Both thumbs rub simultaneously over each of your nipples, sending ripples of pressure straight to your core. You release your breath in a shaky whimper.

Sevika's low, taunting chuckle warms your insides, and you anxiously wait for her to say something, anything. Her eyes flit to yours.

"I certainly like the first half…" she husks, and before a smile can even fully form on your flushed face, she gives both hardening peaks a quick, sharp pinch. A startled cry of pleasure escapes your throat, but she continues on as if nothing happened, "...but let's see if I can say the same for the second half."

Those wild eyes of hers lower to the bow sitting just over the apex of your thighs and you pray she won't make this one so excruciatingly slow. She does take both ends- one in each hand- at least, but you swear she takes even more time loosening them.

"Sevika," you whine, "please go faster."

That was apparently the wrong thing to say.

Both her hands pause, the loops not even half removed. Her amused gaze rises to your desperate one. "Tsk. So impatient," she replies.

You know she's not truly disappointed in you. This is all part of her game. And in all honesty, it's your game too. You enjoy her teasing, even if in the moment it feels like pure torture. "I- I just want you so bad Sev," you mewl.

"I know, babygirl. You'll get me, if you're a good girl," she replies and ghosts her lips across your temple.

"Okay," you relent quietly, and thankfully that appeases her enough to return to removing that damn bow.

Both loops release at the exact same time, and just like the one that covered your chest, this one slips loose and falls to the floor at your feet. Your fingers curl, scraping against the wall beneath them as you watch her eyes rake hungrily over your now completely nude form.

She hums her approval and brings her mouth to your ear. "Such a sweet, pretty little mouse," she purrs. Your body trembles, and she definitely notices as she releases another one of those sexy, deep chuckles of hers. She straightens back up, lips pulled into a cocky smirk. "You know, I think I like my gift so much, not only can you unwrap yours, I think I'll let you use it tonight."

Your eyes blow wide. "Really?" You ask with barely contained enthusiasm. She nods, and now you're filled with an entirely new anticipation.

What did she get you?

"What is it?" You ask, bringing your hands together in front of you excitedly.

She simply grins at your beaming face for a moment before finally replying, "Give me a hand."

Your brows furrow in confusion, but you obey and reach out a hand. She takes it into her own and runs your palm against where her baggy T-shirt hangs over the front of her shorts. Somehow, your eyes manage to widen even further as you feel the large bulge beneath her clothing. She’s packing. How hadn’t you noticed? You slowly lift your eyes to hers, grinning as you wait for her to give you the okay to proceed.

“Go on. Open your gift.”

That’s all you need to hear before you slowly sink to your knees in the small space between her large body and the wall behind you. Peering up at her through your lashes, you feel impossibly small beneath her towering frame, but the pleased smirk she gives you provides you with the confidence to keep going.

She takes a small step back, giving you more room to work as you slip your fingers beneath the waistband of her shorts. Attention back on the site before you, you quickly drag her shorts down, mouth nearly salivating as you reveal the… neon purple toy? It bobs in front of your face as it’s finally freed from the elastic waistband of her shorts. Letting them fall to the floor, your eyes flit up to hers inquisitively. That is certainly not the color you expected. She had acquired a decent variety of strap-ons in your time together. Several shades even, but never something so colorful. Usually dark shades of brown or just plain black. She mostly went wild with shape and size, not color.

“Thought it might be easier to see that pretty pussy of yours take something a little… brighter in color,” she explains. “Don’t you agree?”

Oh. Oh that is so hot.

You nod. That color will definitely stand out.

Sevika steps out of her shorts, kicking them off to the side before gently brushing the back of her metal thumb down the side of your face. “Now be a good girl for me, and get that nice and wet.”

More than willing to oblige- to do anything to please Sevika- you place a hand on one of her powerful thighs, your other hand taking hold of the strap at the base. Watching Sevika’s expression, you lean forward and languidly drag your tongue along the bottom, from base to tip. Your chest swells with pride when that earns you a pleased smirk and another gentle stroke of smooth metal digits along your warming cheek. Still keeping your eyes focused on her reactions, you lean forward, slowly taking the length into your mouth up until you reach your hand. It nearly reaches the back of your throat. This one is definitely one of her longer ones. Without your hand in the way, it would easily have you gagging on its length.

Sevika watches you in blatant satisfaction while your wet, swollen lips slide back and forth over the silicone toy. “Such a good girl,” she purrs. She cards her metal fingers through your hair, the sharp tips scraping along your scalp causing your eyes to flutter shut in bliss. Those fingers grip the back of your head, and you almost miss her voice even as it reaches your ears, too lost in the pleasure of her touch and praise. “Babygirl, I want to fuck your pretty face.”

Gazing up at her through hooded eyes, you hum your approval around the slick toy.

“Just a few quick thrusts. Would you like that?”

Her words start to truly sink in and you realize what she wants to do, and that she’s looking for you to give her permission. Janna does that- both the act itself and her ever present need for consent, make your legs ache with arousal. It’s enough to have you whimpering wantonly and losing your rhythm as your head bobs along the slick shaft. You lock eyes with her, making sure she sees the sincerity in yours, and you nod several times.

The way her lips curl into a devilish grin makes your cunt throb. And then she’s moving her hips back, slowly slipping the toy out from between your lips until just the tip remains in your mouth. She pauses, giving you a moment to relax your jaw and grip her thigh in preparation. Metal fingers press against the back of your head and that’s all the warning you need before she snaps her hips, burying the strap all the way to your hand.

This time, with how powerful she thrusts into you, the tip manages to hit the back of your throat despite your hand remaining at the base. You squeeze your eyes shut and dig your nails into her thigh, trying to repress the instinct to gag. And there’s no denying how much this turns either of you on, not when you can feel the wetness collecting between your trembling thighs, or smell hers.

She quickly pulls back out, allowing you to catch your breath and prepare for another. “You okay, sweetheart?” she asks, brushing her thumb along the edge of your mouth to wipe away the saliva that had gathered there.

Her low, deep voice- and the soft touch- ground you, keep you from falling victim to nerves as you await her next thrust. Taking a deep breath through your nose, you nod. You feel her fingers issue another silent warning as they press against your head, and then she’s hitting the back of your throat again. Your body lurches. Tears form at the corners of your shut eyes, and you’re not sure you can take another. Terrified to disappoint her, you say nothing, but she must sense your distress.

Sevika immediately pulls back, this time removing the toy entirely. “You did so good for me,” she coos when your glazed over eyes meet hers. “I think it’s time you get your reward.” She removes her hand from the back of your head, and you release the now saliva coated strap.

You attempt to stand, but your knees- both sore from kneeling on the hard tile floor and weak with arousal- threaten to give way. She must take notice of this as well, as she bends down and slips her arms beneath yours, carefully helping you to your feet. Leaning against the wall for stability, you turn away from her, embarrassed at your current, pathetic state. She grasps your chin with flesh fingers, gently turning your head so you’re forced to look up at her.

“Don’t ever be ashamed around me, sweetheart,” she warns, but her voice is thick and sweet like honey, and it warms you to the core. She leans down, pressing her lips to yours. You can feel traces of your own saliva transfer to her mouth as it slides over yours, but she’s smiling against you. She’s very pleased.

When she straightens back up, you gaze up at her adoringly. Janna, what you’d give to be hers forever.

She steps closer, the tip of the toy pressing into your abdomen. Her prosthetic hand slips beneath one of your thighs, lifting it up and to the side. Watching your expression closely, she slips her human hand between your legs, dragging two fingers between your very wet folds. She grins as you softly moan her name.

“Looks like you’re ready to go,” she teases, bringing her fingers up to your face so you can see just how much of your slick she collected with a single swipe. She starts to bring them to her mouth, but your hand shoots up and grasps her wrist. Both your eyes and hers go wide for a moment, neither of you expecting you to try to take charge. She raises a single brow, watching as you bring her fingers to your mouth.

Wrapping your lips around her digits, you close your eyes and moan as you suck and lick them clean, tasting your own arousal.

“Naughty girl. That was mine,” Sevika husks when you open your eyes. She pulls her fingers from your mouth with a pop and grabs the back of your neck. Your mouth opens to protest the sudden and harsh motion, but your words are cut short, muffled by her shoving her tongue inside. She hums in approval as she runs her tongue over yours, tasting the remnants of your arousal.

Clutching at her shoulders, you moan into her mouth as a fresh wave of arousal courses through your body.

“You ready?” she asks after breaking the kiss.

Janna, yes!

You nod and take your bottom lip between your teeth again as she takes the dildo in her human hand and lines it up with your entrance. She eases it in, drawing a soft moan from you, but pauses once it’s seated just deep enough to keep it inside. She moves her human hand to grasp the back of your other thigh. Carefully- and with an amazing lack of effort- she lifts your thighs, forcing them to spread as she lifts your entire body higher to better align your entrance with her strap.

The skin at your back prickles as it scrapes along the wall, but it only serves to heighten your arousal. Her sheer strength- the fact that she can just simply put you where she needs you- it’s utterly mind blowing. And she’s aware of the effect it has on you- that arrogant smirk of hers curling higher when she notices how you suck in a breath through your parted lips. “You’re amazing,” you whisper, delighted to know it will further fuel her ego. Who are you to pretend that unyielding confidence of hers is such a turn on?

“Watch with me,” she husks.

Too high on the anticipation of finally getting what you’ve been waiting for all damn night, her words don’t immediately register. Your eyes search hers for an explanation, and as her gaze drops lower, between your bodies, then back up, you realize what she’s asking you to do.

“Sevika,” you whimper in protest, too embarrassed to watch such an act. But, when she arches a brow, questioning your obedience, you immediately relent. Your attention drops to the bright purple toy currently only tip deep in your aching cunt. And shit, if that isn’t already so arousing- but then she starts to push it in deeper, and at an excruciatingly slow, but heavenly speed.

“Look at those wet, wanting lips just swallow my cock,” she husks, and you’re not sure if she’s talking to you, or merely speaking her mind aloud. It doesn’t matter though, because those dirty words combined with the sight of her strap sinking between your folds has got to be one of the hottest things you’ve ever experienced.

The pleasure of her filling you threatens to break your resolve- to go back on her order to watch. Nails digging into Sevika’s shoulders, you bite down harder on your lip to fight the urge to give into that natural response to overwhelming pleasure, to close your eyes. But the moment the toy completely disappears inside your cunt- the tip reaching impossibly deep- you lose it. Your head falls back against the wall with a thud as you release the breath you hadn't even known you were holding, a string of broken moans falling with it.

Giving you time to adjust, Sevika keeps the strap motionless inside you. Her thumbs rub soothing circles against the sides of your thighs. And as you start to come to- lifting your head and opening your eyes- you find her eyes admiring your expression. Your cheeks flush under her gaze, but you smile up at her coyly.

“My pretty girl,” she coos.

Your heart soars and you immediately wrap your arms around her neck, pulling her closer. “You’re so good to me, Sevika,” you whisper into her ear and she chuckles against yours. Her breath tickles the short hairs on your neck. You giggle and squirm against her. Though that ends rather abruptly the moment that results in her harness rubbing against your clit. “Sevika,” you whine, “I want you.”

She pulls her head back until the tips of your noses touch. Lips curling into a knowing smirk, she asks, “What do you want me to do?”

You know she’s just trying to get you to tell her what she already knows. It’s just another attempt to inflate that ego- to give her a power trip. She gets off on making you clearly state what you want from her, and beg for it. Lucky for her, you’re more than eager to please her in any way she desires.

“I want you to fuck me. Slow and deep. Please.” you moan, but as she’s about to pull out, you quickly stop her. “Wait!” you call out a little louder than intended. You smile up at her sheepishly when she arches a brow. “Can you take your shirt off first?” you ask, wanting to feel her skin against yours.

“Anything for you, babygirl,” she purrs. “You’re gonna have to hold on to me though.”

Wrapping your legs around her slim waist, you hook your ankles together at her back and squeeze as tight as you can manage in your aroused state.

Pressing her lower half further against yours to help prop you up against the wall, she inadvertently sinks deeper inside you. The gasp that withdraws from your throat, and the way your legs squeeze tighter around her waist has her chuckling. “You alright?” she teases. When you don’t provide her an answer, she carefully releases your thighs before ripping her shirt off and discarding it behind her. When her hands return to grip your thighs, you immediately wrap your arms around her neck and pull her chest flush to yours.

Her skin is impossibly hot. It always is. She’s like a damn furnace with the amount of heat her body produces, but it’s calming- grounding. And that’s exactly what you need as you feel her start to slide out. That slow, drag of thick silicone against your walls is both torture and bliss rolled into one intense feeling. And as she leaves just the tip inside, you cling tightly to her in preparation for the impending pleasure. You can feel the way her lips curl into a devious smile from where she presses them against your cheek.

The dig of her fingers into your flesh is all the warning you get before she slams back inside you. Even that is not enough to prepare you for the pleasure that rattles your body. You whimper her name, and squeeze your eyes shut. Then she’s repeating the process, pulling back out again. But this time she lifts you higher, changing the angle before ramming inside hard enough to rattle the picture hanging on the wall above your head.

White flashes behind your closed eyes as the tip of the toy presses hard against just the right spot. “Oh fuck!” you moan. And Sevika must know she’s found the right angle, as she holds you nice and steady at that height.

She starts with an almost brutally unhurried pace, but she makes sure to hit that sweet spot with every powerful snap of her hips. And each time you have to fight not to vocalize how fucking good it feels. But despite that, it doesn’t take long before you realize you need her to pick up the speed.

“Sevika,” you whisper breathlessly before she buries her strap to the hilt and withdraws a sweet mewl from your parted lips.

She hums against your sweat-slick skin as she sucks along the side of your neck.

“I- I need- you to go faster,” you stammer as she slides back out with almost no resistance now. You’re so wet with arousal you can feel it start to slide down one of your ass cheeks.

“I thought you said slow and deep, sweetheart,” she taunts. Not giving you a moment to reply, she times sinking her teeth into your neck with a strong rock of her hips that leaves you biting back a cry of pleasure.

“Sevika, please,” you beg and hug her closer to your body. “Please go fas-”

Your pleading is cut short- replaced with that sharp cry of pleasure you’d been fighting- as she thrusts back inside you. She takes mercy on you though, Gradually, she picks of her pace until she’s fucking you fast enough to leave you feeling light headed. And soon you can feel the coil of your building climax form low in your belly.

The room echoes with a symphony of sounds. The rattling of the picture frame hanging precariously above your head. The rhythmic slap of wet skin against wet skin. Your broken mewls, moans and whines. Sevika’s low grunts and huffs. And the squelching of her strap ramming inside your soaked cunt.

None of it registers though- for either of you. Sevika’s too hyper-focused on fucking that sweet spot while keeping the perfect rhythm. And you’re too lost in your own pleasure to hear anything other than the blood roaring in your ears. That is until Sevika whispers in your ear.

“Babygirl, are you close?” she rasps.

You are. You are so close. But you need something else. Something more. Just a little added friction in the right spot. “I- need- more,” you moan between her thrusts.

“I’m already- giving you- the entire- length,” she grunts, thrusting harder and faster. And you swear you can hear the teasing smirk on her face despite her struggling to speak just as much as you are.

Burying your face into her right shoulder, you try once more, “My- my clit.”

“Can’t.”

Your brows pinch together in frustration, but before you can reprimand her for denying your request, realization dawns on you. Both her hands are preoccupied with holding you up. She can’t help you. Reluctantly, you release her from your death grip of a hug, separating the upper half of your body from hers.

Leaning forward, she rests her forehead against yours, unabashed with how lecherous her gaze is as it focuses on the slick covered strap slipping in and out of your cunt. You gaze down as well, vision blurry and clouded by lust, but you can see how your bodies are both covered in a wet sheen. Both your heaving chests glisten with sweat, and your arousal coats not only her strap, but the harness itself. And Janna, it’s even dripping down one of her thighs.

“Beautiful,” Sevika husks, completely enraptured by the sight of her ruining your body in the most wonderful way. But even as she seems lost in her perverse pleasure, she never loses that perfect rhythm.

Slipping a hand down between your bodies, you find your throbbing clit. You work quickly circles around it, drawing up the wetness that collected just below. It only takes a few well timed thrusts from Sevika and your precisely placed fingers before you reach that crest.

Earth shattering pleasure takes over your body, leaving you crying Sevika’s name in ecstasy. You throw your head back against the wall and that white light you kept seeing fades to almost pure black. Your toes curl and muscles spasm during that brief moment of bliss, before your body shudders and you fall limp against Sevika.

She ceases her motions the moment you collapse forward. When your hand slips out from between your bodies to rest at your side, she presses her chest to yours again while the two of you attempt to catch your breath.

Resting your head on her shoulder, you focus on her scent- sweat, musk and smoke- and the feeling of her chest rising and falling in time with your own.

Sevika, who- as usual- recovers long before you can, runs her nose along your hairline soothingly. “How do you feel?” she asks, as if she didn’t already know you were on another plane with how high you felt.

“Good. Really good,” you reply breathlessly, and you can feel her chest shake as she chuckles.

“Good.”

“No. Really good,” you manage to tease. That earns you another deep chuckle that leaves you feeling overcome with adoration. You lift your head, only to rest the back of it against the wall, but at least now you can see Sevika’s beautiful face. Smiling up at her weakly, you feel as if you’d just used your entire body, despite Sevika having done all the work. “I’m really tired,” you sigh.

“Well sleep is going to have to wait, babygirl. You’ve made quite the mess. Literally dripping down my leg right now.” She smirks down at you and if you weren’t so spent, you’d kiss that cocky grin right off her face.

“There’s no way I can clean anyone up right now, let alone walk to the shower,” you laugh weakly.

“Just hold on. I’ll take care of you.”

As instructed, you wrap your arms around her neck and hold on with what little strength remains.

She carries you to the shower and carefully sets you down on the small bench in the corner. You struggle to stay conscious. Your head rolls against the cold, wet shower wall while you fade in and out. You only catch little glimpses, like small snapshots, as she cleans both of you up. Your muscles sing with a pleasant ache that begs you to just lie in your soft bed snuggled up to your wonderful girlfriend.

After drying you off the best she can with you basically flopping around like a damn ragdoll, Sevika scoops you up into her arms and carries you back to the bedroom. She gently lays you down on the bed, aligning your head with a pillow before crawling into bed herself. You’re nearly asleep, but as the bed shifts and your body rolls back to rest against her chest, you wake just enough to hear her whisper against your ear.

“Whatever gift you have for me tomorrow can’t possibly top what you gave me tonight.”

You smile blissfully and scoot back against her warm, solid body as she drapes her augmented arm over your waist and holds you close. “I could say the same to you,” you reply quietly, and you can feel her smile from where she presses a kiss to the back of your head.

As sleep takes over, you swear you catch her say one last thing before you’re out completely.

“We’ll see about that.”

next chapter >

[superman86to99]

Worlds Collide: The Milestone Side, Month 1 (July 1994)

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"Worlds Collide" was pretty unusual for a Superman-related crossover event: it only included one of the four main Superman titles (plus two spin-offs), it happened right in the middle of another Super-storyline ("The Fall of Metropolis"), and it came out right before another crossover event involving alternate worl-- sorry, "timelines" (Zero Hour) but had absolutely no connection to it.

The basic idea is that Superman, Superboy, and Steel meet the characters of Milestone Comics' Dakotaverse thanks to a mailman who switches universes whenever he goes to sleep. However, at least in this first month, the Milestone side seems way more into the crossover than the DC one -- their issues are completely devoted to the event, while the Super Titles have a ton of other plotlines going on. (Then again, they always had a ton of other plotlines going on in this era.) In an effort to help our readers understand what the hell's going in the Superman issues when we cover them, here's what happened in the Milestone ones:

Static #13

This issue isn't technically part of the crossover (it's from the month before it started) but it does show the other side of the scene from Man of Steel #35 when Fred Bentson, the aforementioned superpowered mailman, unwittingly switches universes in the nude and runs into the Dakotaverse's most famous inhabitant, Static.

Fred tries to steal Static's flying disk (or "Static Saucer," as they called it in the Static Shock cartoon) to take it back to Metropolis as proof that he isn't just dreaming the Dakotaverse. He doesn't succeed and runs off, leaving Static like "eh, probably just some nut and not something that will end up putting the existence of multiple universes in jeopardy..."

Hardware #17

This issue reveals Fred's other superpower: picking the worst possible sleep clinic in every reality. We already saw him going into a super shady Metropolis-based one in Man of Steel, and this issue shows that he also went into one owned by Edwin Alva, Milestone Comics' foremost unscrupulous businessman (and the boss of this comic's titular character). Alva wants to exploit Fred's reality-hopping powers, so he orders Hardware to go into the DC Universe with him in order to find out how they work.

Hardware obeys and finds himself teleported into the middle of Metropolis, which is in such poor shape after the events of Action #700 that he initially mistakes it for Detroit.

After saving a woman from some bizarre would-be rapists (that you'd never see in a Superman comic), Hardware suddenly sees Superman's Pal, Steel, looking at him from the other side of a mirror. Both are big black dudes who used their super-smarts to build themselves badass robotic armors, so I can't blame the universe(s) for getting them mixed up. Steel breaks the mirror from the other side with his hammer, causing Hardware to fall into a nightmare where people from his life call him a sellout and a terrible person.

Hardware wakes up back in the city of Dakota, and it turns out the only thing he managed to bring from the other universe is an issue of the Daily Planet... which is still enough to convince Alva that he can use Fred to conquer two worlds.

Icon #11

Superboy #6 (which we'll cover in the usual Super Titles Round-Up post) ends with Fred accidentally taking Superboy into Dakota. Icon himself, who is pretty much the Dakotaverse's Superman, barely appears in this issue, but that's fine with Superboy because he gets to meet, and be a perv towards, his sidekick Rocket.

This is the issue where Fred realizes he can create beings with the power of his imagination, which is bad news for everyone around him because he's an anxious little fella. Fred starts bringing his biggest fears to life: first, an army of IRS auditors who look like Superman's enemy the Parasite (who attacked him in Superboy #6)...

...and then, a building-sized version of his Fifth Grade bully. The young heroes put aside their differences to defeat the big bully in the most appropriate way they can think of: Superboy uses his tactile telekinesis to drop his pants, and then Rocket pushes him down while he's distracted.

Superboy, Rocket, and Icon (who finally decides to show up for his own comic) take Fred back to Alva's sleep clinic for further study. At Alva's, Superboy tries to hit on Rocket again, but she freaks him out by simply being a pregnant teenage superheroine, something that can't exist in the DCU.

Oh yeah, and this leads to an important event in Superboy's life that I'm surprised didn't happen in his own comic: the moment he realizes he has no bully button.

Anyway, Alva gets Fred to teleport himself and Superboy back to Metropolis by asking him to imagine himself "as a bridge between worlds." This works a little too well, since not only does Fred jump universes again, but he also creates a literal bridge between them...

Blood Syndicate #16

The bridge scene is repeated from different perspectives in Steel #6 and in this series, which follows a bunch of gang members who get superpowers after the police throw radioactive tear gas at them. As a result of that incident, known as the "Big Bang," half of the bridge connecting Dakota with the gang-ridden Paris Island was blown off -- which is pretty convenient for this crossover, because Metropolis also has a half-blown-off bridge, courtesy of a fight between Superboy and Spider-Man But Evil during "Reign of the Supermen."

Now Fred has merged both half-bridges into one interdimensional bridge connecting both universes, which is very confusing to the Blood Syndicate gang (for once, when I call a group of superheroes a "gang" I mean that literally). It gets even more confusing once they cross the bridge, thinking the bombed-out Metropolis is Dakota, and hear people talking about Superman. You know, from TV! Wait, does this mean the Blood Syndicate watches Lois & Clark?

Then they run into Superman and assume he must be some insane "Bang Baby" doing cosplay, while he assumes they must be working for Luthor. It doesn't help that they're quite rude towards him and drop swear words no one in the DCU has probably heard before. The issue ends with the whole gang about to attack Superman while one of them, a talking dog called Dogg, says "Yo, Superman, where's Krypto?" (SPOILERS: In Superboy #6, with Bibbo.)

Worlds Collide #1

This one-shot brings all the characters together as we transition from the "meet and fight" to the "team up to face the greater threat" part of the story. Fred finds himself back in Dakota and runs into a bunch of high school kids who are working on their own comic book. When Fred looks at one of the pages of the comic without meaning to, he summons its equally destructive hero and villain into existence.

One of those comic nerds happens to be Static in his secret identity, so he gets to work on stopping the runaway characters and soon bumps heads with Superboy as he's trying to do the same thing.

At this point, Fred starts enjoying his powers a little too much and adds his own childhood comic book creations to the mix, all of whom look like him but with way more muscles. Things get really chaotic, and this is when we learn that Static actually reads Superboy's comic -- though I'm confused by his mention of the "no belly button" thing. Does this mean Static read Icon #11 up there? My head hurts.

Rocket also drops by to help, and there's a bit about Superboy panicking when he realizes that she, a jacket-wearing teenager with "kinetic energy" powers who works with an iconic superhero, is his Dakotaverse counterpart. This reminded me of Magdalene Visaggio and Darick Robertson's Superboy pitch in which Conner Kent transitions into Connie Kent and becomes a superheroine called Skyrocket -- if DC hadn't rejected the idea, they could have used this scene as foreshadowing. (I asked Visaggio on BlueSky if she knew about the Superboy/Rocket thing when she picked the name Skyrocket and she said "Nope!")

At one point, Fred merges with all of his creations and becomes a super-jacked gunslinger with wheels for feet. When Superboy makes the mistake of criticizing his fashion sense, we learn the ultimate source of Fred's trauma: Adam West's Batman.

Meanwhile, Fred's body is also at the sleep clinic in Metropolis and somehow at Alva's lab at the same time, and both places are trying to pull him to their side in order to exploit his powers. The process tears Fred apart, both physically and psychologically -- leaving in his place a giant, all-powerful, scary-looking being calling himself RIFT. He even does the "Fred Bentson is no more!" thing, so you know shit's getting real.

As for Superman, he's losing his patience with the Blood Syndicate, especially after they dare to mess with the hair.

After some more fighting, Superman finally convinces them that this isn't Dakota, it really is Metropolis from the comics. They're like "ah, okay, not our problem then" and head back to Paris Island... just as Rift grows so large that he's able to pick up the entire island and throw it in the ocean, creating a massive tsunami wave that seems to be about to wipe out what's left of Metropolis.

NEXT IN "WORLDS COLLIDE": Shit gets even more real! (But not real enough to impact the other Superman titles.)