#livewire x reader

[marcyvamp1re-blog]

Would you be willing to write Livewire (from Superman The Animated Series) x male reader smut?

Content: Bratty Livewire. Kissing. Biting. Oral sex (Livewire receiving). Thick thighs. Thigh worship. Thighjob (reader receiving). Rough sex. Aftercare.

VOICENOTE.

Synopsis. Leslie has always used others for her own gain, manipulating emotions to control those around her. But that day, something shifted. In a rare moment of vulnerability, she reveals her struggles, and for the first time, the connection between her and the other person feels genuine—something deeper, unspoken, yet real.

pairing ── Leslie Willis (Livewire!) x Male! Reader

Content. MDNI ── Angst, friends with benefits, Bratty Livewire, Kissing, Biting, Oral sex (Livewire receiving).,Thick thighs, Thigh worship, Thighjob (reader receiving), Rough sex, Aftercare.

A/N ── English is not my first language—Spanish — Sorry for the delay in uploading it. I had to do some research on the given information, and I also had some personal issues to deal with. Thank you for your patience!

You were only supposed to be her refuge, her safe place when the weight of the world overwhelmed her or when she felt playful. Leslie loved sending you voice messages loaded with a warmth you knew wasn’t entirely hers. “I love you,” she would say, in a syrupy tone that disarmed even the most guarded, though that phrase, repeated so confidently, was nothing more than a lie. A vile lie that she wielded with the same skill she used to control electricity. 

Leslie—or now Livewire—had always been that way: bold, straightforward, and almost supernaturally skilled at using people to her advantage. With you, her advantage came wrapped in skin and caresses, a tacit contract that allowed no negotiations. Her sparking eyes, always sharp, looked at you with a mix of interest and control, as if calculating your every move. Every time you crossed that line with her, you couldn’t shake the feeling of being a pawn in a game whose rules you didn’t understand. 

So, what changed? 

It wasn’t just desire that shone lately in Leslie’s gaze but something deeper, something even she didn’t know how to name. She had started staying longer after your encounters, her usual sarcasm giving way to half-confessions, her sharp words turning into whispers when she thought you weren’t paying attention. At times, her façade would crack, revealing nervous gestures, words laden with insecurity that didn’t match her explosive personality. 

It was as if the storm had taken on her form. Her lips were bursts of heat and humidity, leaving a trail of chaos behind. She bit with the precision of someone who knows pain can be just as addictive as pleasure. There was no tenderness in her kiss, only an intensity that allowed no truce. 

"Don't stay still," she ordered with a crooked smile. Her tone was mocking, but her gaze pierced you like lightning. Her tongue traced lines over your skin, and each caress was accompanied by her low, dangerous laughter. She pushed you onto the couch with insulting ease—or maybe you surrendered without resistance. With Leslie, it was hard to tell who gave in first. 

Her teeth sank into your shoulder, skirting that line between pain and pleasure. For a moment, you didn’t know whether to pull away or let yourself be consumed by the magnetic chaos Leslie unleashed with every move. 

"Does it hurt?" she teased, as her lips descended, leaving a trail of kisses that weren’t really kisses but small, controlled explosions. 

You didn’t answer. You couldn’t. The electricity radiating from her body—both literal and metaphorical—kept you in a feverish state. Her hands, rough yet magnetic, explored you with a confidence that left no room for doubt. 

"You're so easy to read," she continued, biting your neck this time. The moan that escaped your lips became Leslie’s trophy, and she looked at you with those eyes that never asked for permission. 

Leslie loved starting with her own pleasure. It was her unspoken rule, her unbreakable law. Her body dictated the rhythm and direction, and all you could do was surrender. With a confident motion, she straddled you, her thick thighs trapping you with an intensity that made you feel both captive and desired. 

"Don’t get sentimental, alright?" she said, her smile itself a challenge. Her platinum hair fell messily, as if the storm within her shaped it too. 

When your hands dared to slide over her thighs, she let out a brief laugh, almost a purr. 

"What are you waiting for, applause?" she joked, though the gleam in her eyes hinted at something more. 

Without needing words, Leslie leaned toward you, pressing her lips against yours with the intensity of someone who knows they’re in complete control. Her teeth, sharp and mischievous, bit your lower lip, pulling it with a mix of violence and playfulness. Her body moved with a confidence that was almost offensive, a rhythm that hypnotized you. 

—Do you know what I like most about you? —Leslie asked, without stopping. —That you are always ready. Like a good boy.  His laughter echoed like thunder as he settled on top of you, his skin exposed, glistening in the dim light of the storm raging outside. Leslie leaned back on the end of the couch with an almost arrogant majesty. Her breasts, firm and perfect as if they were the work of a Renaissance artist, rose with each breath. He bit his lip, his electrifying eyes searching yours.  There were no words. Only the inevitable attraction that made you lean towards her, sinking your lips into the heat of her intimacy, which greeted you with a searing intensity. "Ngh...oh...good doggy...such a good doggy" She whispered placing her hand on your head, sinking you further into her dripping womanhood. A raw, animalistic growl leaves your mouth as she tightens around your pink tongue as you slide again and again inside her, your fingers coming up to make little figure eights on her clit, which was becoming increasingly swollen and hotter.

Leslie's bluish skin was now with reddish undertones due to the heat around you, and her lips were about to bleed from the pressure of her teeth on them. Leslie's lewd sounds and fluids seeped into you. Its juices were a sweet and spicy mixture that wrapped in your mouth as if it were a dessert. Although you will deny it, you loved to adore Leslie, after all, she was your muse. The electric tension in the air seemed to come not just from her, but from everything Leslie represented. Every movement of his was thunder, every moan a lightning that crossed your skin. His hand tightened on your hair, guiding you with almost painful precision, as if the climax was not his alone, but a shared storm.

It was not worship that led you to obey it; It was something more primal, a desire to be consumed by that energy that only Leslie could generate. You felt how his muscles began to tense under your fingers, how his previously controlled breathing became erratic, a melody that only you could hear up close.  "There, right there..." he murmured, with a voice that no longer had traces of mockery. Now she was the one teetering on the edge, struggling to stay in control as the electricity threatened to explode from the depths of her being.  And then it happened. His body arched as if he had been struck by lightning. His hand trembled tangled in your hair, and a low moan, charged with heartbreaking pleasure, echoed through the room. You felt how your body completely enveloped you, its heat, its humidity, its essence. For a moment, Leslie wasn't Livewire, she wasn't the storm. It was just Leslie, vulnerable, pure energy overflowing, and you, her only witness.  The storm subsided little by little, leaving her panting, her skin glowing as if it were made of liquid light. His eyes looked at you, half tired, half filled with a challenge that never quite died away.  "Not bad, little dog," he finally said, letting out a hoarse laugh that carried with it an echo of his previous arrogance. But there was something else in his gaze now, a spark of gratitude, or perhaps simple acceptance.

You stayed there, leaning against his still trembling thighs, feeling the weight of the storm you had helped release. You didn't need words. Words, at that moment, could not capture the electric and visceral language that existed between them.  When he finally laid back down, his hand slid to your cheek, a gesture that was both possessive and indulgent.  "You've been a good little dog...you deserve a prize for your work," she whispered, more to herself than to you, as her breathing began to stabilize.  It didn't take long for her to pin you down and put her thick thighs around your erect penis. He began to masturbate you slowly and tortuously. You didn't want him to get angry, but you knew that more than a reward, it was a punishment, a cruel one. You felt the pressure of his thighs, the heat they radiated, like a constant reminder of who was in control. His gaze sparked with a mix of malice and something else you couldn't quite decipher, and the slow pace of his hand was calculated, as if each movement was designed to keep you on the edge without letting you fall. —Do you like this? —he asked with that honeyed voice that always carried a hidden edge. It wasn't a real question, but a disguised statement, a game in which she already knew the answer. His laugh, low and vibrant, slipped between the silences, while his hand maintained that rhythm that bordered on the unbearable.

You tried to move, to search for something else, but his thighs clenched with a force that reminded you there was no escape. Her other arm rested lazily on the back of the couch, as if this were casual entertainment, a game she could continue indefinitely. “You're so predictable,” he continued, leaning towards you a little, enough for his swollen blue lips to touch yours. The electricity in the air seemed to intensify, as if his every movement charged the space with an energy that threatened to consume everything.

The weather became strange. The seconds seemed to stretch, each one charged with tension as his thighs guided you in that hypnotic swing. The heat in your body was building, and you felt like you were on the edge of a cliff that she refused to let you cross. “Don't you dare finish until I say so,” he warned, his words like thunder that resonated deep within you. There was something in her tone, a mix of authority and temptation, that made it impossible to disobey her. His crooked smile returned, the one that always made you question how much of this was a punishment and how much a reward in disguise. And then he changed the pace, barely noticeably at first, but enough for every fiber in your body to react. His gaze did not leave yours, as if he were studying your every reaction, enjoying the absolute power he had over you.

—Tell me, how far are you willing to go for me? —he whispered, leaning close enough for his lips to brush yours, but not kiss you completely. The heat of his breath was another form of torture, a reminder of how close he was and how unreachable he still was. Your lips parted, but you couldn't get any words out. It wasn't necessary. She already knew the answer, and the spark in her eyes confirmed it to you: this was her game, and you were caught up in it. Your eyes widened as you felt her slide her dripping womanhood onto your cock. You grabbed her hips as you felt the depths of her interior, rubbing against her uterus. She went gentle at first, trying to make you feel each of her fleshy rings on your length. But it was only a few seconds, in the blink of an eye she was holding on to your shoulders, jumping on you while grabbing her hips. It was fast and hard, there was no time to think.

She felt so full, so drunk from the delicious burning of her pussy on your cock. And it seems like you were drunk on her too, because as soon as her hips brush against yours at a fast and deliciously hard pace, the words escape her. They were whispers, soft whispers that made his saliva drip out of his mouth. “Oh...how I love you.”

oh...Oh...OH! That was new.

His words hung heavy in the heady air. You almost put everything aside to ask if it weren't because he caged you in his arms, preventing you from stopping. Your voice shakes a little as you let out a humorless laugh as you moaned at the feeling of his core engulfing your cock. Soft lips rest on your forehead and breathe in your aroma. Absolutely scorching, so sensual, all while quietly murmuring, "I love you, my good boy."

. . . Rage

You took her regardless of her protests and pulled her under you, thrusting, trying to forget what she said. But when you looked into her eyes...those electrifying eyes that trapped you in their net, and you saw it there, in her eyes, which for the first time denoted a hint of affection. "I love you" God, I wasn't lying. You held on to her like the world depended on it, and with force, before you came inside her, you came out and ended up on her chest, while she squirted beneath you, staining you with her juices. They stood together on the couch, the room lit only by the distant flicker of rays outside the window. The electricity from earlier had dissipated, leaving them enveloped in a dense silence, like the heavy air before rain. Livewire rested on your chest, her breathing still rapid, but calmer, almost vulnerable in the stillness around them.

Leslie’s skin glowed faintly under the dim light, but it wasn’t just from sweat—it was something deeper: a haunting shimmer, as if the storm she had unleashed within her body still left a mark on her soul. Yet there was something different about her now—a serenity blended with her usual disdain. 

“I said a lot of things to you…” she whispered, breaking the silence like a stifled sigh. Her voice was softer, less sharp, and though she tried to hide it, there was an undercurrent of fragility in her words. 

You tensed slightly, a faint fear of what she might say rising within you, but something about her—something in her tone—kept you still, your fingers brushing through her hair in an almost automatic gesture of comfort. 

“Don’t believe everything I say,” she continued, pulling back slightly to meet your gaze. The electric brilliance from before had faded, leaving behind the Leslie she rarely allowed anyone to see. Her eyes, usually full of control and defiance, now seemed vulnerable, almost lost. 

“It’s not that I don’t believe you,” you replied calmly. You knew there was more behind her words, but the truth didn’t seem to matter as much in that moment. Just being there with her, listening to her, was enough. 

She let out a small sigh, as though releasing an invisible weight. 

“What I said… ‘I love you’…” she repeated softly, her gaze drifting forward, as if the mere thought of those words unsettled her. “It wasn’t true. I can’t love like that; I don’t know how… I never have.” 

At first, the air felt heavy. An echo of what she had said lingered between you, but you just looked at her—without judgment, without the need to force a response. You knew there was more to her world than her words let on, and this was one of the rare moments she allowed herself to be vulnerable. 

“You don’t have to say it if you don’t feel it,” you said, a bit surprised by your own calmness. Despite everything that had happened, your desire to care for her, to protect her even from her internal storm, seemed stronger than any doubt. 

Leslie looked at you, her eyes slightly wide, as though she hadn’t expected such a steady, understanding response. For a moment, her lips parted as if she wanted to say something, but nothing came out. Finally, she simply nodded, her breathing calmer now, though it still wavered occasionally. 

You moved closer, unhurriedly wrapping your arms around her, as if to shelter her in a warmth so deep that, even if only for a brief moment, the storm would feel like a distant memory. 

“I’ve got you,” you murmured softly, almost without thinking. The words were so simple, yet the way they left your lips felt like a promise that needed no further explanation. 

Leslie, in her silence, leaned into you, resting her head on your chest, seeking that warmth she had always evaded on her own terms. And though no words were spoken, something deeper seemed to bind the two of you in that moment. 

Perhaps it wasn’t love—not the kind you could name—but it was something far more real between you: a quiet understanding, an acceptance. Leslie didn’t know how to love in the conventional way, but you understood that, in her own way, she did—though in a form so complex that only time and patience could unravel it. 

She said nothing more, and she didn’t need to. It was in the way her body relaxed against yours, in how her breathing aligned with yours, in that shimmer in her eyes that now resembled water after a storm—clear but still unsettled. 

And you, without moving, understood her. Not with certainty—because there was never certainty with Leslie—but with an intuition that settled in your chest as gently as her weight did. 

She closed her eyes and leaned into you, a surrender without words that spoke volumes. Outside, lightning still traced fleeting patterns across the sky, but inside, in that moment, there was a silence so profound it almost carried the echo of what she dared not say. 

Maybe it wasn’t love—not yet—but it was something that, in its ambiguity, held everything

A/N ─── Yay, it's done! And... I guess you could say it's a PWP? I'm not sure. It was hard to find the necessary information, but I hope I’ve provided something you’ll like. I’ve been really busy, and right now as I’m writing this, I’m extremely stressed, so I’m not sure if it turned out well or if I have any spelling mistakes. Please correct me if so.

Feel free to ask me anything

Take a bath!

[onegayastronaut]

Can you do a ship for me. My fandom is supergirl. I’m 5’4. Short brown hair. Hazel eyes. I’m a little on the chubby side. I love doing random acts of kindness. I love writing and playing music. I look for the good in people and I’m incredibly stubborn

Leslie loved being the most stubborn person in the room, but she came to realize that she was no match for you when it came to stubbornness. She was not prepared for how nice you were to her, and she would often act like she didn’t miss you when you were out on a mission. After the DEO cleared her for more freedom and access around the facility, Leslie made a point to ask you out on a date at the diner across the street. Aside from Kara, you were the only other person who thought that Leslie could really change for the better. Leslie is extremely grateful for that even though she’s too stubborn to admit that, but she makes sure to let you know how much she cares about you.

[syrecjh]

(A request: Project Partner Katsuki x reader)

You never meant to assume anything. Truly. You were the type to keep your head down, finish your notes, follow the rules (well, most of them), and definitely not fall into the trap of thinking a boy like Katsuki Bakugo could be watching you from across the classroom like you were some kind of puzzle he couldn’t solve.

But it was hard not to notice.

Like how he always managed to snag the seat next to you during lectures — even when Kaminari pouted and Kirishima tried to tug him into their usual row. Or the way he passed you the last pen when Aizawa asked for note-taking volunteers, his fingers brushing yours too slowly for it to be by accident.

And those eyes — sharp, crimson, relentless — you’d caught them on you more than once. Not just glancing. Watching. Like you were a question on the board he was quietly solving.

So when group pairings were assigned for the final project and your name was read aloud alongside his, your stomach did that traitorous flip — the one it did every time he said your name without looking at anyone else.

And now here you were. In your dorm room. At midnight. With him.

You told yourself it was because the common areas were packed — people sprawled across the couches and kitchen tables, yelling over each other and chugging instant coffee like it was oxygen. You told yourself it was strictly academic, strictly business. And yet.

Bakugo sat on your floor, elbows resting on his knees, leaning back just enough that his shirt tugged up at the hem. His notes were neat. His answers quick. But he wasn’t reading the textbook.

He was staring at you again.

You tried to ignore it. You really did. But the tension between you was a livewire — flickering at the edges of every silence, every time you passed him a book or clicked your pens in unison.

“Did you write down the—” you began, and that’s when you felt it.

His gaze.

Heavy. Hot. Real.

“What?” you blinked, meeting his eyes.

He was already looking at you like he was deciding something dangerous.

And then he muttered it — almost absent, like a thought that slipped past his guard.

“You’re pretty when you’re focused.”

Your heart thudded. “What?”

He didn’t flinch. If anything, he leaned in, elbows on his knees now, closer. The quiet hum of your desk lamp caught on the scar at the corner of his mouth.

“I said you’re pretty.” His voice was low, gravel dipped in certainty. “And it’s distracting.”

You froze. “Bakugo—”

“I’ve been tryin’ to study,” he cut you off, now crawling just a bit closer, voice going lower, “but all I’m thinking about is how close I am to kissin’ you.”

You blinked. “W-what?”

And before you could breathe, he was there — hands on either side of your chair, eyes locked on yours. He didn’t touch you, not yet, just hovered like a storm on the verge of breaking.

“Can I?” he asked.

You didn’t know what possessed you, whether it was his voice or the way your heart felt like it was cracking open — but you nodded.

So he kissed you.

And it was every bit the explosion he kept caged behind his scowl. Fierce, warm, tender in the way only Katsuki Bakugo could be when the whole world wasn’t watching.

When he pulled away, his breath was still on your lips.

“Be my girlfriend,” he said, like he was stating a fact. Not asking. Just finally saying it.

You blinked again, dazed. “What the hell?”

“I’ve been waitin’,” he muttered. “You knew. You always knew.”

Your cheeks were burning. “You could’ve—I don’t know—said something?”

He grunted. “I’m sayin’ it now.”

And in that moment — half your textbooks forgotten, your cheeks warm, your heartbeat sprinting — you could only laugh, breathless.

“You’re gonna have to work for it, Katsuki.”

He smirked, leaning in again. “Then I guess I’ll start now.”

And he kissed you again — softer this time, slower, like a promise.

Outside, someone knocked on the door. Probably Iida yelling about curfew. But for once, you didn’t care.

Because Bakugo had finally said it.

And you?

You’d been waiting too.

[gianna-z-xdx]

NSFW | Mature themes | Reader x Simon "Ghost" Riley

The air between you felt like a fuse—short, sparking, seconds from detonation.

"I want you," Simon whispered, rough and barely held together. "Not just your body. All of you."

You didn’t hesitate. Didn’t flinch. You just met his gaze and said, “Then have me.”

And everything snapped.

Simon moved fast—urgent, primal—his hands on you like he’d been dying of thirst and finally reached water. He kissed you like he was punishing himself for waiting this long, his teeth grazing your lip as he pressed you down into the mattress with the weight of his body. You gasped into his mouth, fingers threading into the hair at the nape of his neck as he pressed his hips to yours.

"Been good for too long," he rasped, voice already gone rough with want. "Tried to ignore it. Couldn’t."

His hand slid under your shirt—then up—palm dragging up your bare torso until it found your chest. He cupped it roughly, groaning into your neck. "You’re killing me, love."

"Then let me save you," you whispered, breath hitching as his fingers teased your nipple. "Take it."

He pulled back just enough to strip your shirt off, eyes devouring you like you were the first light after years of darkness. He kissed down your chest, slow, wet kisses between quick grazes of teeth, leaving marks he didn’t care if anyone saw. His hands slid under your waistband and pulled your pants down in one smooth motion, tossing them aside with purpose.

"Look at you," he muttered, almost reverently, calloused fingers dragging between your thighs. "So wet already. Did I do this to you?"

"Yes," you breathed, hips arching up. "You did."

That cocky little grin touched his lips—just for a second—before he leaned in and licked a slow stripe between your legs, dragging a moan from deep inside your chest. His hands gripped your thighs, holding you in place as he sucked, licked, fucked you with his tongue until your eyes rolled back and your thighs trembled around his head.

"Simon—fuck—I’m gonna—"

"Do it," he growled. "Want to taste you. Every part of you."

You came hard—gasping, legs clenching around his shoulders—and he didn’t stop until you were whimpering, sensitive and shaking.

Then he was crawling up your body, kissing you through it, letting you taste yourself on his tongue. “You’re perfect,” he murmured against your lips. “Fucking perfect.”

You reached for his waistband, undoing his pants with trembling fingers. “Need you. Now.”

He groaned—deep and raw—pulling them off and kicking them aside. And when he finally pressed against you, thick and heavy, you gasped.

“Jesus, Simon,” you whispered, blinking up at him.

He leaned down, lips brushing your ear. “Still want it?”

You met his eyes—full of heat, need, trust.

“I need it.”

He slid in slowly—inch by inch—gritting his teeth like he was trying not to lose control too fast. The stretch burned just right, your back arching into him as your hands gripped his arms, his chest, anything to ground yourself.

Once he was buried to the hilt, he stilled. Forehead pressed to yours. Both of you just breathing.

“God, you feel…” he shook his head, like he couldn’t find the word. “You were made for me.”

He began to move. Slow, deep strokes that made your whole body hum, hips rolling into yours with purpose. His hand slid under your thigh, hitching it higher to angle deeper—and when he hit that spot inside you, your mouth fell open in a silent cry.

“That’s it,” he grunted, picking up the pace, every thrust harder, hungrier. “You feel that? That’s mine. You’re mine now.”

"Simon—" You were already close again, body tightening like a livewire.

"You gonna come for me again, sweetheart?" he murmured, lips brushing your jaw. "Come on my cock this time? Want to feel you fall apart."

You couldn’t even answer. Just nodding—moaning—gripping him as the second orgasm hit you like a freight train. He cursed, hips stuttering as your walls clenched around him, and then his control finally snapped.

He drove into you hard, fast, desperate now—nothing held back—and then he was groaning your name into your neck as he came, hot and deep inside you.

You stayed like that for a long moment. Tangled, sweaty, hearts hammering.

When he finally moved, he didn’t go far. He lay beside you and pulled you back into his chest, still catching his breath, his hand running lazy circles over your hip.

“This wasn’t just sex for me,” he murmured, voice rough with exhaustion but laced with something softer. “Don’t want this to be a one-time thing.”

You rolled to face him, cheeks flushed, body still thrumming.

“Then don’t let it be.”

His eyes locked with yours. That sharp, haunted look softened for once—honest, unguarded.

“You don’t get it,” he said quietly. “You’re not just in my bed. You’re under my skin. Been there for a while.”

You swallowed, heart racing in a whole new way now.

“You’re under mine too.”

He pulled you closer, arm heavy around your waist, lips brushing your forehead.

And for the first time in a long time… you both slept without nightmares.

last one for awhile

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[daylighted]

LIVEWIRE — jj maybank x reader.

livewire (n) — an energetic or unpredictable person; a force of nature. ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤthat boy is a livewire; he'll ruin you, or die trying.

. . . or, jj's crashout — featuring you.

includes, SEXUAL CONTENT! MDNI. kinda pwp. crashout!jj. best friend!fem!reader. forced proximity. high stakes. dirty talk. jj is vocal. p in v. unprotected sex ( do not do this they r just so ridiculous & horny ). ( semi ) public. he has absolutely no pullout game but he's forgiven for it </3

NOTES. if the door logic doesn't make any sense realistically ... that's not my business. i'm not writing for realism i'm writing for the JJ GIRLS who want 2 fuck CRASHOUT JJ. also my apology for the quote in the tagline ik its too soon still but i joke 2 cope.

Red and blue littered the autumnal afternoon sky, sirens overshadowing the lyrical chirps of the birds, the scattered winds blowing red and orange leaves down the Kildare streets. 

JJ Maybank is a fucking force to be reckoned with. In his wake, town hall’s alarms reared their deafening screeches, the aforementioned chilly winds blowing in handfuls of leaves to scatter the podiums and the foldout chairs. There’s a lone chair on its side in the middle of the well-kept grassy front courtyard. There’s glass burrowing itself in the dirt, reflecting the golden sun’s light at every which way when you turn your head. 

The other pogues are screaming at him to go, to run, and he’s shocked for a moment. Stood like a deer in headlights at the actions that he took. Who knew how much one boy was capable? All of the destruction that two hands could elicit? 

Oh, and what an empowering thought it is, too: realizing what you are capable of doing when you are pushed to the brink. 

There’s that look in his eyes, before he turns on his heels and takes off into the wood, disappearing like a speck in the small bit of forestry separating town hall from the rest of the downtown area. 

You know what that look means. This is merely the first in his rampage. Fire burns blue in the thin line of his irises, everything else overtaken by adrenaline and fucking rage. 

“Someone has to—” Kie starts, and you realize that you’ve been staring straight ahead at the trees he vanished into, eyes locked on the exact path he took. “Someone has to go, go make sure he’s okay—” 

Sarah’s eyes lock on yours. John B grimaces for a second, like he’s considering it, before he looks at you, too. Kie’s words, albeit vague, had never sounded so directed before. Pope—

Pope is getting tossed against the hood of a cop car, and suddenly, the pogues aren’t looking at you anymore. Their gazes break and shatter away from you like the shards of the window surrounding your feet. 

Your heart is racing. You. Chase him down. And what did they expect you to do? To tell him that this wasn’t him, and to stop while he’s ahead, and to hold his hand and guide him back to safety away from the cops’ sirens and cars that had already broken away from the crowd to hunt for him? 

No. This was JJ, and he wouldn’t stop while he was ahead, and he was going to take the cops on his tail like a challenge to keep going until he cracked — or they did. 

You were the only one that ever understood him, really. That was why their eyes immediately shifted to you when the topic came up that someone had to find him, because even while they wanted to help, they would only drive him further away. Not you. Never you. 

You’re turning on your heel and sprinting before anyone can realize what you’re doing. Not the screaming kooks, demanding lawyers and justice to the unlistening winds. Not the pogues, banging on the remaining cop cars to free him, free Pope, stop this fucking madness— 

It’s like a thin line is painted on the ground between you and JJ. An invisible rope, loose but growing more taut the closer you follow on his tail. 

You follow it. Follow that red string into the trees, letting it tug you along until you break out of the shadowy wood and onto main street. 

A car alarm blares. Glass shards on the trunk of it, surrounding the asphalt around it. You slow to a stop to avoid catching any of those sharp, loose pieces in your shoes. Even now that the imaginary red line has faded, you can see traces of where he went in the path of destruction he made. 

A shop’s window busted a few feet away from the car. A street pole sparking and buzzing lowly, electricity humming through the air like a siren’s song, tempting anyone it came across to touch it. Touch the livewire. 

Just a few feet away, there he is. JJ has an outdoor seating chair in his two hands, and he’s seconds from tossing it through the glass window of the cafe it was in front of. 

“JJ!” You shout, your voice faint beneath the sound of the car alarm, the sparking of the electrical fire, the hum of electricity buzzing all around you. 

His head swivels to look back at you, and he looks fucking vicious. He looks like no matter what you say, he’s not going to stop. Not here. The electricity coming from the dented-in box on the street pole is feeding directly into his veins. 

“Not supposed t’be here,” he calls back, and now that fury is directed at you. As if he ever could have stopped you from following the breadcrumbs he only ever left for you. “Can’t fuckin’ stop me.” 

You crunch glass beneath your feet as you run toward him. It’s too late to do anything about the cafe window; its pieces spill onto the glossy wood floor, some splayed onto the sidewalk. 

“Who said I’d try and stop you?” You ask him once you’re close enough. His hand runs through his mussed blonde hair, tugging the strands straight up. 

His eyes flit to you, eyebrows raised behind the loose strands falling back down over them. “M’not letting you get into this shit, too,” he says just as sternly. “It’s my fuckin’ life I’m ruining.” 

“Why?” you ask him, and it is a genuine question, even though you don’t think he’s going to answer. So you start to spit out your own theories. “Because of your dad? Because of what Luke did?” 

His eyes drop to the ground, squinting like he’s looking for something through the shards surrounding his feet. The bat. The end of it sticks out in front of your shoes. 

You bend down to grab it, holding the hitting end out toward him. His eyes are so dark when they glance at it, and then back up to you. His eyes were always oceanic, but now they seemed to be drowned out by the stormy black clouds that were his pupils. 

JJ’s eyes linger on yours. He’s never really made an effort to read you before, more of a take it on the chin sort of guy when it came to how people were, and what they meant to him. But he studied you now, and it was almost unnerving, trying to guess what exactly he saw reflected back to him. 

His fingers close around the hitting end of the bat in a tight grip, using it to pull you closer to him. He’s holding it out to the side, just so that it can’t go taut and rigid between the two of you, allowing you to be tugged closer than you would have been able to be. 

His breaths come in furious pants, audible once you were close to him. He was a livewire. He was sparking, burning everything he touched, trying to take it all to the ground. 

Destruction was always so pretty when it was at his hands. He did everything with purpose, whether it was for the good of who he cared about, or for his own grievances. 

And this sort of destruction, the kind you saw his eyes fall into once you were close enough to share breaths? It was golden and fiery, and full of promise that would break the thin line between your friendship and something else. 

You knew it in the same way that you knew how to follow that red, invisible line to him. Red because it was a bad idea, a waving red flag, telling you to stop, stop, stop. But it connected the both of you, regardless of its color; so how were you expected to?

“Feelin’ hungry?” JJ asks, voice low and almost sinful with the way that it rasped. 

You don’t mean to balk, but you do. It wasn’t a question you expected him to ask, but the double meaning in it, the innuendo laced words, had you stifling on your own words. “For what?” 

The bat slips from his grip, and it falls to hang loosely at your side. “We broke it, we buy it,” he says with a nod toward the shattered gap in the cafe’s window. “Or… not buy it.” His eyebrows bounce when he looks at you, and he leans in, his lips grazing the shell of your ear. “Did you think I was talkin’ about something else?” 

Your face flushes. Then, you drop the bat to shove at his chest with both hands. “Shut up.” 

“What, you feelin’ all hot and bothered, sweetheart?” he asks, a teasing lilt to his voice. “Tryna get some fugitive dick before it’s tossed in the slammer?” 

Your face is hot, the trail of heat from your reddened cheeks traveling like a river stream to your lower stomach. “Shut up, JJ,” you seethe, though it has none of the fire you wish it did. You didn’t know why; you had so much of it running through your blood then that it should have made you sound more fiery than you did. 

“Uh huh,” JJ cackles, his hand lifting to the back of your shoulder, pushing you toward the broken window. Once you’re a few steps ahead of him, his hand claps on your ass. “Andele, andele! Cops on the horizon.” 

It takes every bit of your willpower to not whirl around and smack him back. You don’t, because unfortunately for you, the sting only adds to your stomach becoming molten liquid, and for the other, more pressing matter, of the cops’ lights glowing red and blue at the very end of the street. 

You duck into the hole in the glass, feet crunching down on pieces of glass and debris. He follows immediately after, though when he slips into the building, it’s more stumbling than anything graceful. 

“Head t’the back,” he huffs, nodding toward the push-to-open door behind the front counter. “M’not gettin’ fucking caught before I fuck up that goddamn realtor’s house.” 

Arguing with him is a bit useless. JJ’s never been one to listen to anyone when his mind is set on something. You knew this from the moment that you took off in his direction to find him. Still, you almost open your mouth to make the effort to stop him, so at least you could say you did try. 

He cuts in front of you, stepping around the chair he tossed through the window, hopping over the countertop. He stops when he’s leaned against the door, holding it propped for you. 

“I’d say ladies first, but someone’s takin’ their sweet ass time,” he prods, nodding in gesture to the kitchen. 

You scoff, shaking your head, as you circle around the counter, shoving your shoulder into him when you duck underneath his arm. “Some of us aren’t so akin with vandalism.” 

“Some of us,” JJ mocks, his fingers digging into your ribcage as he falls into step behind you, “need t’lighten the hell up.” 

“I’m sorry, but are the cops not literally outside? End of the road?” It’s useless to humor him and his pestering, but it makes your heart beat a little bit faster, so who are you to make it easier for him and just go along with his ploys? 

He tsks. “Semantics.” His head spins around as he takes in the room surrounding them; typical bakery style kitchen, mixers and cutting boards and ovens, sinks lined up on the back wall. There’s tall fridges and deep freezes on one side of the wall, and parallel to it was— “Aha, there we go.” 

JJ cuts in front of you again, doing a little hop and a skip as he bumps his hip into this new door, tugging the handle down as he opens it. “Pantry, or whatever,” he scoffs, his face twisting up, “doesn’t matter to me what the hell it is. Gonna have to camp out in here, you and I.” 

Of course you were. You’d signed up for this, getting involved in this round of his criminalistic habits, but that didn’t mean you didn’t have the right to be annoyed. Weren’t you lot chased by the police enough as is? 

Still, you step into the pantry, the smell of chocolate chips and something else sugary hitting your nostrils the moment you’re inside. Boxes of ingredients line the shelves, including the ziploc bag of chocolate chips. 

JJ’s snatching it up before you can even process it, diving his hand into it and popping the handful between his plush lips. “Told you. Break it, we bought it.” 

Your eyes roll. Vandalism and theft. Probably a hefty sentence, nothing that either of you could afford with Poguelandia on the brink of destruction and your debts already piled high. 

He zips the bag back up and tosses it back on the shelf. “Walkin’ around like you got a stick up your ass, sweetheart,” JJ muses, his fingers closing around your elbow. “Told y’to relax, didn’t I?”

“No,” you say slowly in response. “You told me to lighten the hell up.” 

One side of his mouth quirks in a half smile, dimple gracing his cheek in the process. “Semantics,” he repeats, and he uses the grip he has on your arm to tug you back into his chest. “I could help you lighten the hell up.” 

“I sincerely doubt it, JJ,” you huff, your expression as unimpressed as one’s could be. “You’re the entire reason—” 

His mouth crashes against yours before you can finish that sentence. His mouth is as soft as it looks, the inner shell of his lips chapped. He tastes like weed, like the taste of it is so familiar in his mouth that it embedded itself into his taste. 

You almost don’t kiss back. It’s one of those things that feels like a bad idea because it is. That pointless rule about no kissing on other pogues went out the window the moment Kie and Pope got their hands on each other, but it still felt wrong, to break one of the rules that cemented the glue that held this group together. 

You kiss him back anyways. The moment that you start to respond to his advances, his tongue sweeps across the seam of your lips, pushing his way in. He starts walking the both of you backwards, deeper into the pantry, until your back hits the wall. 

JJ’s hands drop to your thighs, lifting you up effortlessly to wrap your legs around his waist. Your fingers curl into his shirt, tugging him further in until his chest presses against yours. 

His hands let go of you, the press of his body against yours on the wall and your legs tight around his waist keep you held up. His fingers close around the hem of your dress’s skirt, tugging it up. 

Your eyes pop open, falling down to your exposed panties pressed against his denim jeans. When you glance back up at him, lips still lightly pressed to his, they’re blue again, and glimmery. 

“Tell me to stop if you want me to stop,” he murmurs against your lips, stealing another kiss in the process. “Just… tryna get your mind off of—” 

“The manhunt?” You finish for him, and he laughs breathlessly against your mouth. 

“Mm, m’not doing a great job at distracting you, then,” he teases, one of his hands letting go of your dress, the other fisting the fabric as he holds it up. The free hand’s fingers slide down, down, down, until their tips are pressed on the edge of your panties. So close he could probably feel the slickness leaking through the fabric. 

“This all for me, baby?” he asks with that infuriating amusement curled around his words. “Or is it the danger of all this, too? Like bein’ an outlaw with little ol’ me?”

You aren’t even going to dignify him with an answer. Your bottom lip wedges itself between your teeth, your hands curling into fists against the fabric of his shirt. 

His middle finger starts to rub slow, lazy circles over your swollen clit through the damp fabric of your panties, his lips parted like he’s going to say something stupid about the whine that falls from your mouth—

When the sirens get so loud that it echoes around the small pantry. They don’t dissipate, either, which means…

“The door,” you choke out, nodding behind JJ to the pantry door. He’d shut it behind the both of you, but there’s a lock by the top of it, one of those chain link ones. “The lock—” You try to clarify, your brain a bit muddled. 

JJ’s head turns to glance behind him, and you watch his eyes dance up to the chain, too. He lets out a heavy sigh. “Such a damn worrier.” 

“I’m not—” 

Always useless arguing with him. He cuts you off by gripping at your thighs again with his lithe fingers, lifting you off of the wall and tugging you into his chest. 

You grab fistfuls of his shirt so you don’t fall backwards at the sudden movement, your lips curled into a scowl. 

He doesn’t seem to notice. He holds you in his arms as he walks to the door, pressing your back against this one so he can remove one hand from your leg, and lifts it to chain the lock. 

“Better?” he teases, and you’re about to scowl at him again when you watch the smile drop from his lips. 

Just as suddenly as he’d yanked you from the wall, he’s dropping to the ground, your body falling right along with him, knees crashing into the hardwood floors as you land into straddling him. Your mouth opens to gasp, or swear, or gasp and swear, when his fingers close over your lips. 

The cops. You hear them, then, the muffled voices and muddled words. Through the crack beneath the door behind JJ’s planted ass, you see their flashlights, too. 

His eyes meet yours, and he nods once, his expression grim. You blink, and his eyes are again filled with that glimmering mischief that never, in his life, has meant something good. 

And it was truly delinquent of him this time, as his hands drop to the button and fly of his jeans. Your mouth opens and closes in protest, because there’s no way he’s thinking that you two are going to fuck on some cafe’s pantry’s floor with cops right there—

“Oh, get that look offa your face,” he whispers, nosing your chin up and stealing a kiss when you’ve met his eyes again. “As long as you be quiet, what’s the big deal?” 

“You have nothing but awful ideas in that head of yours,” you snap in a low whisper, through your gritted teeth. “I’m not having sex with you right now—” 

JJ’s eyebrows raise. His eyes fall down to your slickened thighs, to the panties beneath the dress pooling his waist that he knows are wet with your arousal. 

“Fuck you.” It’s so pathetic to say, such a weak argument, but it’s the only thing that you can even think right now. Your heart is pounding in your chest with adrenaline and need and the fact that you can feel his hard dick straining in his jeans against your pussy.

JJ tips his head in a nod, his lips still quirked. “Aye aye, captain.” 

He undoes the restraints on his jeans, and his fingers disappear into the flyguard. Your eyes bounce between his face and his hands, his expression contorted in pure concentration that would be adorable if it wasn’t so seriously not. His tongue’s poking between his teeth, panting like an excited puppy, and you just want to—

“Hop on, baby,” he says triumphantly, and those stupid lips curl into an even more stupid grin. His hands pat his thighs to draw your attention downward. 

Fuck.

Your eyes must darken at the sight of him, hard and leaking precum, because he starts cackling like there aren’t police on the other side of the door, trying to cuff him and throw him in the backseat of a police car. “C’mon. Don’t be stingy now, baby, I see how bad you want it.” 

There are rare moments that JJ is right. Broken clocks right twice a day, or something like that. When he’s right, he’s always dead on, and it’s infuriating. 

You glance up at the little window in the door, and for then, at least, it’s clear. No shining flashlights beaming into the pantry you’re both camping in… 

You make bad decisions far less than JJ does. Still, like broken clocks, you both align sometimes. 

Lifting your hips off of his lap, his hands grasp at the backs of your thighs, guiding you onto his waiting cock, slapping it lightly against your pussy a couple of times before he lines himself up and drags the swollen head of it down your folds beneath your panties. He doesn’t give any warning before he pushes himself into you, a hard thrust that brings him all the way to the hilt at once.

Your lips fall open in a sharp gasp, and just barely does his hand make it over your mouth before the moan falls out of your mouth. One hand over your mouth, the other on your ass, guiding you into moving.

“As much as I love that mouth of yours,” JJ groans into your ear, low and rough like the words are being pried out of his lungs and torn through his ribs, “gonna have to keep it down this time.” 

He’s such a fucking hypocrite, though — the moment you adjust to the size of him filling you completely, stretching your inner walls to accommodate to him, and you start to move on your own? His head tips back against the door, guttural moans underneath his breath. 

“Fuck, baby, just like that,” he manages, and you slam down on him again, his hand dragging your hips forward to grind your aching pussy against his pelvis in slow circles. “Oh, fuck, baby—” 

“Shut up,” you muffle through his hand, even though it’s getting to you too, his palm stifling every gasp and breathy whimper before it leaves your parted lips. 

His hand clasps tighter around your mouth, his heavy, half-lidded eyes boring into yours. “You’re not the one in control here, baby.” 

It’s easy to forget, with him stretching you out and being relatively gentle right now, that he’s higher than he’s ever been. Adrenaline turns people into carcasses of themselves; wearing them down to the bone, using every scrap of energy available. 

His blown pupils are glimmering with it. He’s daring you with nothing but a look to see what happens when you keep running your mouth. His hand relents its hold on your mouth, and the other stills your hips as you stay suspended halfway down his cock.

The whine you let out is something you’ll deny later. The gravelly laugh he lets out is something that indicates he won’t let you. 

JJ smears his hand across your mouth, taking the saliva from the corner of your lips and spreading it across them, your cheek, before his two fingers slide into your mouth. “Not so bossy now, are you, baby?” he asks under his breath, as he thrusts his fingers in and out, as he slams his hips up in that same relentless pace as them. “Not so bossy when I’m fucking that mouth and that pretty little pussy.” 

His words burn from your lower stomach to up your spine, electric everywhere they reach. You can do nothing but take it, your hands on his shoulders for some sense of stability. 

Each thrust has the tip of his cock against your cervix, has his fingers clawing along your tongue as he presses them down on it just enough to pry your jaw open. 

“Lemme see that smile, sweetheart,” he murmurs, those two fingers spreading out into a V, forcing the corners of your lips up and into a wide grin. You sneer, and all that does is make him pound into you harder. “Don’t act so fuckin’ fussy, you’re gettin’ what you wanted, aren’t ya?” 

His fingers press on your tongue again, and your lips close around them again. It’s a good distraction from the way you want to scream. Not like you’d ever put that thought in his head with his ego. 

JJ slows his pace, but each thrust is just as hard, so deep in you that you can feel each of them, each minute detail; the thick head of his cock against your cervix, every inch that stretches you further with each of those thrusts, the obscene sound in the silent room of skin slapping against skin. 

“Baby, m’not gonna last much longer,” JJ pants into your ear, his voice still as rough but with an air of desperation. “Not like this, not with how fuckin’ good you’re bein’ for me, nice and quiet while I fuck your juicy pussy— fuck, baby.” 

He drags his fingers over your lips again, this time down, down the valley between your breasts, your stomach, your navel, until they’re planted right in the hot wetness of your folds. They find your clit and begin to rub the swollen nub, slow and gentle and completely at odds with the brutal fucking. 

You’re good, though, even without his hand covering your mouth. Even with—

A flashlight beams through the glass window above the both of you. Your eyes glance up to see it, and JJ’s staring at the spotlight of gold in the center of the room, just inches from his extended legs.

It flicks left, right, and you see the glimmer in the eyes of the officer right there, face pressed to the glass, hear the doorknob jangle against the chained lock—

JJ doesn’t stop. His pace becomes quicker, more erratic, more desperate. Your jaw trembles with the effort to keep your parted lips from making any sound at all, the precipice so close that you’re terrified of whatever noise is going to come out of your mouth when you cum. 

The beam from the light swings away, disappearing as the officer walks away, muffled words through the walls separating you and JJ from them. 

It’s just in time, too, because you cum with a soft and breathless gasp, your walls pulsing around his cock, your head falling forward to bury into his collar. His moans begin to shudder in your ear, and you know that he, too, is cumming. Feel it seconds later, when your head starts to clear from the haze of ecstasy, as the warmth of his cum fills you, his cock twitching inside of you. 

JJ lifts his fingers from between your legs and pops them into his mouth, the sound of him sucking the essence of you off of them making your legs tremble around him. “Like fuckin’ sin,” he whispers reverently. 

He’s so pretty like this. All spent and molten, softening cock inside of you like an extension of you now. His hand lifts to cup your cheek, thumb brushing stray hairs off of your face in the process. 

“You’re so beautiful,” he says, just as reverently as before, voicing the same thoughts you’d been having about him. 

“You’re so stupid,” you say in response, not capable of telling him how much you love him, feeling it to be the wrong time, too cheesy, another thing he’ll tease you about later. 

It’s there, though, on the tip of your tongue. I love you. And you do, so much that it aches. This man that’d been your best friend since you could remember anything. This man who sacrificed everything constantly for everyone. 

He wouldn’t have to sacrifice anything anymore, you wanna say. He could rest now, you wanted to say, too. 

But it feels wrong. And there’s always another time to tell him when it doesn’t just seem like bliss-driven thoughts. There’s always another day.

notes, thoguht my grief was over but the ending made me cry for some reason that's how u know this death hit deep bc why am i crying over like four lines in a Smut pls

[asxgard]

Semper Fi | [4/8]

Dr. Jack Abbot x f!doctor!reader

Previous | Next

Summary: Jack finally pulls you in. You try not to fall too quickly.

[ Series Masterlist ]

Note: trying to combine my initial thoughts of Abbot and all the things we learned in the finale lol (plus the comment that he’s a widower), it took a hot minute

I had such an urge to go back and edit the three previous parts so I did lol I really like how they’ve turned out.

Word Count: 3.8k

Warnings: age gap, afab!reader, SMUT (MINORS DNI), p in v, pet name (sweetheart), jealous!Jack, unwanted advances (not from Jack), hospital setting, medical inaccuracies, Jack is a widow, alcohol

not beta read

Jack arrived at your door promptly at 7:30 in the morning, and you were thankful you had the day off. You weren’t sure how you would have found a private moment otherwise in the hallways of the hospital.

He came with breakfast and coffee, with that look you were slowly learning to read: longing.

When he placed the bag of food on the counter, along with the two cups of coffee — one shockingly sweet and the other unfathomably bitter — his hands found you immediately after. His fingers dug into your hips and pulled you flush against him.

Staring into your eyes, you felt like his body was coiled tightly in restraint, stuck between bracing for a hit and holding himself back. You held your hand to his chest and waited, hoping he might find the words.

“I don’t want you to look back on this in ten years and—”

“I won’t.” You said, so definitively, watching him with wide doe eyes.

His eyebrows furrowed and he struggled, “You’re young, and I’ve got a fuckin’ mess of skeletons in my closet—”

“And if I wanted you anyway?”

His eyes snapped to yours, his grip tightening. The air was thick, and at the sight of his darkening eyes, it seemed like he had struck a match in your stomach. His silence lingered.

“I like this.” You said, like it was a secret. Perhaps it still was, but now you had a craving for it to be real. To be revealed.

His grip on your tightened, eyes flicking between yours, studying you. All sharp edges and vice; you wanted him to devour you.

“I want you, Jack.” You whispered, your fingers tightening on the hem of his scrubs, looking down at your hands. “I’m just waiting for you to want me back.”

He curled a finger under your chin and forced you to look him in the eyes. “That’s what you think? That I don’t want you?”

You nodded absently, holding his gaze, heart thumping wildly inside your chest. You hoped your ribcage would contain it. His eye contact was sending a buzz throughout your system — heavy and close and so scarily intimate — like an exposed livewire thrumming just beneath your skin.

“You keep pushing me away whenever I get close.”

“I’ve been trying to spare you. I don’t even know what the fuck I’m doing. I don’t want this to be some big mistake for you. I don’t want you to look back and think you fucked up, giving your attention to some guy nearly twice your age, and I think you might.” He paused, though never broke eye contact, “It’s not a lack of want, sweetheart, it’s the overwhelming urge of it. I just don’t want to dive into the deep end before you know what you’re doing.”

His words, whispered huskily to you, went straight to your core and all your desire for him bubbled over, like a pot of water left boiling too long.

“I know what I’m doing. I have since we started…whatever this is.” You said, eyes looking over his face. “I don’t want to live in fear of what could be, or what I could think in ten, twenty years. I’m an adult and I trust myself to know what I want. Right here. Right now.”

“Then say it again. Mean it. Say it again and I’m yours.”

You were glad you were flush against his chest, back against the kitchen counter, otherwise your knees might have buckled. It was a new feeling — a rush of emotion flooding through you to be wanted so completely, so carnally.

You knew what the words would mean. It was more than a simple string of words, it would be a declaration of a promise. A promise you had every intention of keeping.

“Jack, I want you.” You breathed out, hoping the intensity of your gaze would give away how serious you were about those words.

His lips were on yours, rough and hungry, hand on your jaw moving to the back of your head to hold you close. A small noise of surprise echoed in the back of your throat, and you had to remind yourself to breathe. He was not gentle and you did not want him to be, finally letting go of all the restraint you had tried to hold onto waiting for this…waiting for him.

Your top rode up just enough to where Jack’s hands met the skin on your hip, and it sent your heart into a race. You gripped his shirt and held him to you, needing something to steady you, your thoughts in a frenzy.

Jack’s hands were everywhere, clouding your mind with the feeling of his skin on yours. Tight on your hips, lingering over your thighs before gripping them hard, kneading at your ass before moving up to caress over your stomach. The smell of him — something warm and woodsy — mixed with the feel of him made you dizzy. The moment was quickly barrelling further than you had gone with him in the past, and it felt like something finally clicked into place.

You unraveled, attempting to mold yourself to him, clinging tightly so he couldn’t slip away. Tongues met and he tasted like desire made flesh, moving in a synchronized dance you had never learned, but with him, did not need to. It felt effortless, swallowing his breath and heat, and you begged for it to consume you.

“Bedroom.” You murmured, soft and urgent.

He hummed, low and irresistible, rumbling equally through your chest.

You stayed tangled while you made your way to your bedroom, Jack’s hands never leaving your skin. You pulled at his top and he quickly discarded it to the floor of your room, your hands eagerly taking in the new canvas of skin. Hard muscle dappled with freckles, a soft pink scar just below his collarbone and another near his navel met your gaze. He only let you marvel for a moment before his lips were back on you.

Once on your bed, you pulled off your shirt and did not watch where it landed, while Jack helped you with your pants. Deliberate and rushed, but no less caring. He hovered over you, attaching his mouth to your throat, his tongue licking at your pulse point. His scruff scratched at your skin as he moved, making you moan.

“We can stop here—”

“No.” You protested, “Please.”

He smirked, all knowing and eyes all heat. A shiver ran down your spine, pooling in your abdomen. You pulled him back down to meet your lips in a searing kiss and unfiltered lust invaded your senses.

Jack was quick to remove his pants before crawling on top of you, kissing up your body. You moved your hips up in search of friction, hoping he might have mercy on you. One hand gripped your hip and held it down while his lips kept exploring your skin.

You let out a tiny whine, “Jack.”

“You say my name like that again, and I won’t be able to control myself.” He said, wolfish and raw.

You met his gaze, clouded with the hazy desire running wild through your system, “Then don’t.”

He was only you again, pulling at your underwear until they were off. His fingers met the wet heat between your legs and he cursed, low and devine, before moving them through your folds. He paused long enough for you to know why.

You reached for your end table, and Jack moved over you to pull a condom from the drawer. He sat back long enough to put it on, quick and precise and not leaving you to want long.

His mouth met your breast, sucking on the nipple until you let out a breathless moan. You gripped his shoulders, knowing you would likely leave behind crescent shaped indents of your nails, but you had no room to care. Your hips moved back up, and you felt the heavy weight of his cock, eliciting a whimper.

He gripped your waist again and pushed your hips back down. You whined again, needing to know what he would feel like inside you. You felt him smirk against your skin.

You tugged at his curls, and it seemed his resolve finally snapped, finding your mouth again. He braced an arm next to your head, bringing the other to help guide himself inside you, but not before rubbing a few circles on your clit. It drove you mad.

His eyes were on yours, steady, consuming and intense.

“Please, Jack,” you said breathlessly, “Need to feel you.”

He indulged you, pushing his hips forward and allowing you to feel the stretch of him. Your eyes rolled into the back of your head as you tried to find purchase, gripping his shoulders, the sheets, his back. He pushed in until he was at the hilt, nestled perfectly in your tight heat, and he let out a low groan.

“Fucking Christ.”

The coil in your lower abdomen tightened and you unintentionally clenched around him. He hissed at the sensation, bringing his hips back enough to snap back to yours. The pace he set was brutal, rough without being too much, and the drag of his hips made your eyes glossy as the feeling steadily got overwhelming.

He brought the pad of his thumb between you, circling your clit until you were a moaning mess beneath him. The heat coiled through your belly, twisting impossibly tight, and you brought your legs around his hips to hold him to you. Your eyes closed tightly, trying to focus on the feeling — so full, so complete, so wrecked.

He tsked lowly, voice like velvet, “Nuh uh, eyes on me, sweetheart.”

You met his hazel eyes, eyebrows drawn in, “Feels so good, oh my god.”

He kissed you, sucking on your bottom lip before dragging his teeth across it, like he was trying to commit your taste to memory. He moved his head back to look at you, taking in your wide-eyed gaze, and you wrapped your arms around his neck.

The rhythm that he fell into was steady, hard and precise. Each thrust winding that coil tighter, making you feel like you might explode, as he brushed something inside that you had never felt before. Deep and unexplored. The burning expanded through your system, licking up your insides and scorching you.

“Please…please.” You begged, eyes screwing shut again. “Jack…”

Jack bit down on the skin of your neck, sucking, before working his way up your throat and across your jaw. Each snap of his hips feeling more exhilarating than the last.

“Let me see those pretty eyes, come on, let me see.”

You moaned, trying to open your eyes so you could look at him, but the precipice of heat was growing far too strong, coiled and blistering.

“Let go for me, sweetheart, come on. I can feel how close you are.” He told you, face above you, nose nearly touching your own. “Give it to me.”

That white-hot euphoria overwhelmed your senses and sent you hurtling over the edge. You could not contain the sounds that left your mouth, delectably sinful, while you opened your eyes to look up at him. Eyebrows pulled tight, you did everything to focus on his eyes. You felt yourself clench tightly around him as he fucked you through it, the burning pulsing orgasm, and you fully surrendered under the waves of it.

His thrusts steadily grew sloppy, his breath ragged against your throat and you squeezed your legs around his hips. His features contorted with pleasure with his own climax approaching, saying soft praises in your ear.

“So good f’me, fuck.” He breathed.

You grabbed his face to pull him into a kiss, hands in his hair as you held onto him, aftershocks making you drunk on him. His kiss was wet and messy, equal parts hot and languid, before his hips stuttered and you were swallowing his low groan. The sound alone made you tighten around him again, making a stream of curses exit his mouth.

The next kiss he gave you was passionate. Like a confession translated by tongue.

You tried to control your breathing when you met his eyes, and something seized in your heart. You tried not to whine when he removed himself, laying on his back and pulling you close.

Nothing needed to be said as you laid there together. You listened to his pounding heart as his chest moved up and down with his breathing. You splayed a hand on his chest and savored him. Neither of you moved to get up.

“You’re gonna be the death of me.”

Your smile came easily, “You can’t be rid of me that easily.”

He kissed the crown of your head, something so simple feeling scarily intimate.

You hummed, tracing a finger over his chest lazily, trying to memorize each contour, each scar to memory. You shifted, attempting to get closer, but his grip tightened.

“Not yet. I don’t want this to be over yet.”

“It’s only just begun.” You smiled, leaning up to kiss him softly on the mouth, but you stayed put. Settling your head back onto his chest, you relished in the moment, in the aftermath, in the afterglow.

With one arm wrapped around you, he drew circles onto your skin. The quiet was warm and comforting, but as your senses returned, you began to wonder what this all was. You wanted to give it a name.

“My therapist says I find comfort in the dark.”

Your breath caught, not trying to startle the moment — fearing it might flee. You waited.

“That’s why I only work nights, I think.” He swallowed, “And then you came along and made me think the daylight might not be so bad.”

You found it incredibly endearing and your cheeks heated, “And you make me think that nights can be just as good.”

He smiled.

—

After spending the majority of the weekend curled up in each other, you knew something was blooming. But you didn’t want to overwhelm it, or smother it, so you let it grow in the moments you shared. Unhurried, but not wholly uncomplicated.

You found you were glad to be back on nights, for despite how hectic they were, it had your grumpy old man. ‘Your’ sent tingles down your spine, fuzzy and electrifying.

If anyone at work noticed the shift, they didn’t say anything. How you fell into pace with each other with an effortless ease, handing him an instrument before he even asked. Or how he anticipated your needs without any words, placing a coffee in front of you midway through your shift or pulling over the crash cart before you called for it.

It was Ellis who picked up on it first, after you had coded a patient and brought them back without needing to say more than two words to Jack.

She raised an eyebrow at you, “So, you and Abbot?”

You sipped your coffee and tried to act nonchalant, typing away on your keyboard. “What are you talking about?”

“You know exactly what I’m talking about.”

“I really don’t.” You lied, trying to ignore the heat creeping in.

You and Jack had not really discussed what you were, not with titles at least, but neither of you were seeing anyone else. It was serious between you, with an officiality that did not need words. You both also just did not want HR sniffing around, so it went unsaid to keep it to yourselves.

Ellis huffed out a laugh, “Don’t look now, but he’s coming this way.”

You immediately turned to look behind you, but Jack was nowhere to be found.

Ellis chuckled, “Yeah, you definitely don’t know what I’m talking about.”

You scowled, but it was light, “There’s a bowel obstruction in South-10, you should go check on that.”

She frowned, “Now that’s just cruel.”

You raised an eyebrow, shooing her.

Jack walked out of one of the rooms to your right, watching Ellis walk away and stopping next to you.

“What was that about?”

You gave a shrug and you barely concealed your smirk, “Ellis seems to think there’s something going on between us.”

His eyebrows raised, but there was that crack of a smile. Your chest warmed at the sight of it.

“I wonder what gave her that impression.” But his smile was knowing.

You got back to your charting, eyes lingering on Jack’s retreating form, watching as he disappeared into Central-8.

Shen rolled over on the stool, sipping his iced coffee, “So, is there? I’ve got a Benjamin riding on it.”

—

Jack felt like there was something to say about what your relationship was — his therapist always suggested naming a feeling to take away its power. But did he want to take the power away from the feeling in his chest?

He supposed the advice was more partial to the negative feelings, but he still felt like he was failing at navigating the good ones. Frankly, it had begun to scare him — to feel something so real and raw. It had been years since his wife passed, and it had carved out a part of himself. A piece he had long forgone, never fully believing therapy would help him find it again. He was okay with that, until your light hit his face and warmed his skin. He had tried to shy away from it at first, close the curtains and shut it out.

There was a gratitude in himself for allowing it in.

Once he had a taste, it was all he craved. From pecks and longing kisses to soul-devouring make-outs and feeling you wrapped around him, he had found the thrill in finally giving in to the tide. In allowing himself to be wanted so wholly, but he still wanted to take small steps in — even though he knew he was falling in deep.

The way he desired you was bordering on primal. It messed with his head and any logical thought that told him to push you away. He didn’t want you to get cut on any of his edges, or realize your mistake when you both fell too deep. It pained him to think you could ever regret him. He really was trying to allow you in, fully, but there was the fear it would swallow up your light until there was nothing left.

On a rare night out with several other attendings, accompanied by a few residents, he watched you. The bar was not quite overpacked, but certainly lively. It was nothing fancy, simple bar stools and booths, with a pool table and dart board.

Despite being engaged in the conversation with Robby, his eyes found you, laughing with Ellis. Protective without being possessive, and certainly not just a gaze reserved for friends. Robby picked up on it immediately.

Robby sipped his beer, eyes flickering between you and Jack. “You wanna tell me about that?”

Jack looked back at him, hiding his surprise well. He schooled his expression and scoffed, “That’s not vague at all.”

“Right,” he breathed out a small laugh, raising a challenging eyebrow, “so you wouldn’t mind if I go and buy her a drink?”

Jack’s eyes narrowed into slits, taking a sip of his beer. There was a heaviness in his gaze, a challenge all their own as he grit out, “Go for it.”

Robby seemed to find what he had been looking for and grinned. “Good for you, brother. Really. You deserve to be happy.”

“Not gonna chastise me? I’m half expecting someone to call out the elephant in the room eventually.” Jack said, looking away from the man and finding you again. His age. Your age. He frowned.

“I’m sure you’ve done that to yourself already and come out on the other side. Plus, you’re both adults.” Robby shrugged.

Jack took a long swig of his drink, watching as you approached the bartender, empty drink in hand.

He watched the man come up behind you, leaning close to you, placing his own drink on the bartop. No warning and a heat collected in his chest, hot and angry, swirling together until there was a storm. He could barely blame the man, you were gorgeous — and the man seemed much closer in age to you, and a tight feeling seized his stomach, like a cold seeping in.

You weren’t looking at him, but then your face contorted in disgust when the stranger’s hands lingered and Jack was out of his seat before he knew what he was doing.

When you looked to see him approached, he treasured the way relief washed over your face at the sight of him. Jack’s hand was on the man’s shoulder and pulled him back.

“Hands to yourself.” Jack said, tone like a knife’s edge — all danger and ice.

“Whoa buddy, we’re just chatting here—” the stranger scoffed, looking back to you in disbelief. But the way you were looking at Jack had the man look back to him with eyebrows raised. “Wait, you her boyfriend or something?”

“Or something.” Jack’s anger was controlled, the quiet kind, coiled up and ready to strike when necessary.

The stranger scoffed, looking between you, “Whatever, man,”

Jack released him and set his intense gaze on him until he backed off, walking back to the table with his friends.

You had a look on your face that took Jack a second to read: eyes half lidded with a wicked grin spreading across your lips, half desire, half teasing.

“I could’ve handled that.” You told him lowly,

“Yeah, well, I did already.”

The teasing smile remained, “You jealous, Jack?”

He narrowed his eyes at you, and your eyes flickered across his face.

“You really have no reason to be.” You said earnestly, “There’s only one man here I’ve had my eye on.”

There was that feeling again, curling around his heart and squeezing, warm and comfortable.

“Can’t blame a guy for not suspecting you to be with a guy like me.”

You saw right through it, “Ruggedly handsome? Devilishly charming?”

One side of his mouth lifted a touch at the compliment. The word sat on his tongue, but he couldn’t bring himself to say it.

“I’d appreciate it if you respected my choice enough not to doubt it at every turn.” You told him, suddenly serious. “I think I’ve made it pretty clear I don’t care for the age thing, or the skeletons in your closet. Some random at a bar doesn’t change anything.”

He cleared his throat, “You’re right.”

A smile quickly turned into a smirk, “I know.”

“Can I get you a drink?”

You hummed, “Please.”

You ordered another drink, brushing your hand along his arm.

“You know, despite it all, I still found that kinda hot.” You whispered, leaning towards him, edging far too close for sultry in front of all your co-workers.

Though, if his open display just a few minutes prior had not clued them in on the budding relationship, your bedroom eyes would surely not faze them. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Shen and Ellis exchange a few bills.

He sipped his new beer, raising an eyebrow, “That right?”

The smile you gave him should have been a sin.

[ Next ]

Semper Fi taglist: @rosiepoise88 @stelliferousphoenix @fancyvoidtragedy

Dr. Abbot taglist: @flyinglama @valhallavalkyrie9 @melancholyy-hill @travelingmypassion @yournerdmodziata @dark-twisted-and-mechanical-mind @sarah-the-bird-nerd @artsymaddie @partofthelouniverse @woodxtock @rachel2494

The Pitt taglist: @cannonindeez @spoiledflor @kittenhawkk @nessamc @thatchickwiththecamera @sharkluver @loud-mouph @ksyn-faith @sunfairyy @dragonsondragons @mischiefsemimanaged @pastelbunnelby @jetjuliette @that-one-fangirl69

All content taglist: @nixandtonic

I still feel like I’m not getting his characterization right. But maybe that’s just me being too hard on myself lol

[spearofheaven]

GARDEN KISSES— featuring NANAMI, KENTO

CONTAINS. 18+ content, MDNI. college! kento nanami x botanist major! fem reader (pretty basic take on botany sorry), cunnilingus, unprotected sex, breeding kink go brr, pet names (sweetheart, my love, etc.)

a part two of sorts to this :p

saturday night. 11:30 pm.

most people your age would be surrounded by blinding club lights and sweat ridden bodies rubbing up against them (along with a questionable stench lingering in the air), but instead you were surrounded by an array of biology and plant anatomy textbooks scattered all over your work desk.

the front door unlocked with a click, the sound of footsteps following soon after. "hey honey, i'm back," nanami announced, sliding his shoes off at the door before making his way over to your desk.

"hey," a noncommittal murmur left your lips, your attention on the book in front of you. trying and willing yourself to commit every single term on the diagrams to memory.

nanami didn't take any offense-he knew you were engrossed in your work. he simply slid behind your chair, gently working his fingers through your slouched back. he worked at the knots in your back diligently, doing anything in his power to help you be more comfortable.

a low sigh left your lips, rolling your shoulders back as the exhaustion from the day started to weigh in. you weren't sure when was the last time you'd gotten up from this chair, unsure of when you looked at anything that wasn't the words on the page in front of you.

"let me be the one to help you relax, please." when you nodded, kento slid in between your legs just right under the desk. almost like he belonged there. his fingertips barely grazed against your legs, a goosebump running up your spine at how gentle the touch was.

"you've been working so hard, honey," he murmured, leaning in to press a reverent kiss onto your inner thigh, "you deserve to relax a bit." the material of his your shirt was bunched up, exposing your panties to him.

he lightly pressed a kiss onto the front of your clothed cunt, a damp spot already forming. your thighs immediately went to clench together, trying to seek out any form of friction before nanami pulled them apart. "patience, my love. i'll give you what you want."

he hooked two fingers onto the waistband of your panties, sliding them down to your ankles with relative ease. "so pretty, so wet." nanami's lips moved upwards, leaving behind a soft peck in his wake before he made himself comfortable in between your thighs.

while kento was organized in most aspects of his life, eating pussy was not one of them. he spat (as politely as he could) into your cunt, rubbing it in with his fingers to mix with your slick only to slurp it back up. your fingers ran down his hair, gently tugging at the golden roots.

"that's it, use me. i'm here to help you," kento let out a muffled moan when you bucked your hips against his face, the tip of his nose rubbing against your engorged clit. drop after drop of your slick landed on the lens of his glasses and yet, he didn't seem to care. he only noticed when you took them off, wiping them off on your shirt.

"f-fuck kento," a breathy moan left you, back arching into the backrest of your office chair. all the words on the textbook were starting to become a blur in your state of bliss. his fingers prodded at your entrance, pushing two inside while he sucked on your clit.

his tongue rolled around in figure eights, fingers curled to hit that spot inside of you with every. thrust. "ken, ken, make me cum, please," you babbled, feeling yourself grow closer to the edge. your fingers dug into his scalp, trying to keep yourself as grounded as possible.

"i said i'd take care of you, sweetheart," kento mumbled against your clit, each word a vibration that shot up your spine like livewire, "so trust me. just come for me."

that coil inside of you tightened, tightened, and kept tightening until SNAP. your walls spasmed around his fingers before your orgasm washed over you like a wave, soaking the glasses you'd tried so hard to keep clean.

"there we go, that's it, so good," jumbled praises left his lips, his fingers slowing their pace to work you through the aftershocks of your orgasm. nanami pulled them away, tapping the two digits against the plush of your lips.

your lips parted, tongue darting out to taste the slightly bitter essence on his finger. your lips enclosed around his fingers, sucking them clean. "let me." kento leaned in, pressing his lips against your own. it turned messy quick-he sucked on your tongue, eager to taste as much as he could of you-before you reluctantly pulled away to catch your breath.

"are you almost done with your review?" nanami asked, wiping his glistening lips with the back of his hand and looking over at the clock on the wall. 11:59. you'd be up until sunrise, at this rate.

you nibbled down on your bottom lip, going through the several pages that you were still determined to go over one last time. "almost." a lie. both you and nanami knew the moment that it left your lips.

"how about i help you review then?" once he got up, he reached over to take your book off the desk. reading over through some of the sections you'd highlighted and marked notes on to see just what he could quiz you on.

"and how are you gonna help me do that? flash cards?"

"no. with all due respect, bend over."

you found yourself bent over as soon as the words left his lips, papers scattering all over the floor when you reached to take hold of the edge of the table. he'd pick them up later. you heard him unzip his pants, shuffling them down before his cockhead rubbed against your puffy wet folds. not putting it in just yet.

"first question. vegetative shoots are responsible for producing new leaves and stem cells. but what tissue do vegetative shoots develop from?"

and just like that, every ounce of material you'd been going through throughout the day suddenly left your brain. "can i get a hint?"

"come on, my love. you've been going over this material all day," nanami cooed from behind you, sliding his reddened tip in between your slick folds, "i know you know this. surely you can tell me what tissue vegetative shoots develop from."

as determined as you'd once been to studying, the only thing you had in mind was him shooting his load into you.

"kennn," you let out a whine, trying to push your hips back onto him. with a click of his tongue, nanami firmly placed a hand on your hip to stop your motions.

"i know, i know. i'm being so mean to you, huh?" you could only nod your head, a low chuckle leaving his lips, "but we need for it to stick. you know this, i know you do."

so you began to rack your brain for the page on vegetative shoots. intercalary? no, that's longitudinal growth. think. "vegetative shoots develop from meristematic tissue?"

kento let out a hum. you weren't completely sure if you were right or wrong. "are you asking me or are you telling me, sweetheart?"

a huff left your lips, turning around to look at him with what you could only hope was a glare. it wasn't. you looked like an adorable, angry chihuahua. "i'm telling you. they develop from meristematic tissue, specifically the shoot apical meristem."

the slow thrust of nanami's hips into your own was enough to let you know the answer was right. your walls stretched out, molding around every ridge and every inch of his cock. "see, there we go. my smart girl."

his abdomen clenched with thinly veiled resistance, barely holding himself from thrusting into you the way that he wanted to. "ken, go faster, please fuck me, please," your whines didn't help either.

"okay," he grunted out, flipping through a couple of the pages of your textbook, "if you want me to go faster, what are the two components of the vascular tissue?" now this you knew.

"xylem and phloem. xylem's responsible for the transit of water and minerals from the roots and phloem's responsible for transporting sugars."

"there we go, you're gonna ace this final." kento put your book off to the side, using both hands to grip onto your hips. twack! twack! twack! his balls were heavy, slamming against your ass with each rut of his hips. your cunt gushed around his cock, a creamy ring at the base where you and him connected.

"oh fuck, ken! don't stop, please!" a loud moan (that was sure to disturb your neighbors, you'd deal with that later) left your lips, your nails digging into the wood of your desk. kento leaned in, burying his face into the side of your neck. kissing every spot he had available before using one hand to tilt your chin, bringing your lips against his own into a sloppy kiss.

"just wanna fill you up. take care of you while a bunch of mini-yous are running around," he was practically delirious with the way you were sucking every inch of him in, talking straight out of his ass, "but we gotta get you that degree first, huh?"

"just wanna get stuffed by you, kento." his fingers snaked down to rub at your clit, working you towards your second orgasm of the night. "please, please, cum in me!"

but you should've known by now that it didn't come without answering a question.

"you want it that bad, sweetheart?" when you simply nodded, nanami glanced over at your textbook to read the first thing that was in bold, "tell me, what're the reproductive organs in a pistil and i'll give you what you want. just one last question."

"that's a female p-plant," you felt your breath catch in your throat, his fingers still rubbing at your clit with each thrust, "made of the stigma, style, and ovary."

"there we go, that's my smart girl," his praise went down to your pussy, your slick covering his shaft until his cock glided in and out like a slip 'n slide. "gonna fill you up, just like you want. i'm gonna cum, gonna cum-" a groan left his lips before ropes of white coated your walls. your release hit at the same time as his own, the mixture of fluids landing on the floor underneath.

and as many sex flashbacks you got while taking your final, you really had to hand it to nanami.

you passed the test with flying colors.

[dickgraysonisnothereforthis]

I’m Just Chock-Full of Ideas (jason todd x reader x roy harper smut)

Jason accepts the invite to join you and Roy in bed. (After getting himself off while watching Roy eat you out). You and Roy act immediately.

—

The sequel to I Know You Want Me on Your Team, but you don’t have to read it to understand. because guess what it’s mostly smut

I have so much fun writing this dynamic! If you have any thoughts please please lmk

Anyway—

SMUT, PWP, oral, penetration, established relationship (Roy x reader), swearing, as always

I don’t know how long this is

———

You’re laying in bed, on the verge of falling asleep for the night, when Roy’s text comes through:

JASON IS COMING WITH ME BACK TO YOUR PLACE

THIS IS NOT A FUCKING DRILL, CHANGE THE SHEETS

Gasping, you throw yourself out of bed, texting back furiously.

How long till you get here???

You don’t expect an answer, and after a few seconds, you drop the phone and rip the sheets from your bed. Dashing to the linen closet, you grab the first clean sheets you see and wrestle them onto the bed. Then you strip and throw yourself in the shower.

Jason’s on his way here, Roy in tow. You don’t want to get ahead of yourself, but you’re pretty sure you’re going to get dicked down. Fucking finally.

It’s been two weeks since you and Roy had invited Jason into bed, two weeks since he’d watched Roy eat you out with a hand down his pants, and fuck-nothing has happened since then. By the time he’d left Roy’s place that night, tucking himself back into his pants and mopping up his come with a t shirt, Jason still hadn’t answered if he wanted to join you and Roy for anything more than vouyerism. And in the last two weeks, he hasn’t said anything. It’s got you climbing the walls.

But now he’s on his way here, with Roy. To your apartment, a crucial detail. And Roy said change the sheets. Another clue.

Yeah, you’re pretty sure Jason wants to fuck. You exhale into the steam of the shower, then scrub yourself methodically, making sure you’re clean all over. You don’t know exactly what’s going to happen, and you want to be prepared.

Just as you’re rinsing conditioner from your hair, you hear pounding at the door. “Hold the fuck on!” you shout as you shut off the water and wrap yourself in a towel. Crossing your apartment, hair dripping onto the floor, you unbolt your door and hold it open. Jason and Roy wait at the doorway.

“Couldn’t wait five minutes?” you gripe. Roy laughs, moving inside to pull you into a kiss.

“Sorry, babe,” he snickers into your mouth.

“I had conditioner in my hair,” you pout, but you don’t mean it. Roy’s excited; his hands are darting here and there across your body and his kisses are electric, lips like a livewire. He knows something is going to happen. Your anticipation rises, and you grin, bumping your teeth against his.

“And just how’re you doin’, babycakes?” he asks, pressing his cheek to yours.

You roll your eyes at the nickname. “‘M good. Today was good. How ‘bout you?”

“Same old, same old,” Roy answers.

You step slightly out of Roy’s arms. “And how are you, Jason?” you ask politely.

He seems caught off guard. “Uh—okay.”

“Good,” you nod. An awkward silence brews. “Glad you’re here,” you offer.

“Yeah, uh…” Jason’s hand rises to worry at the back of his neck. “Look, I, I already said this to Roy, but, uh.” He bites at his lip. “But uh, I wanted to let you know that I want to…to try something. With you. Both of you.” He looks to Roy, who grins at him. Jason answers with a look you’ve never seen before, giving Roy a soft, almost tender smile. It does something complicated to your insides.

You decide to do something stupid. “Hell yeah, brother,” you say earnestly. Jason’s face twists in disgust while Roy groans, shoving at your shoulder.

“You just suck the mood right out of things, huh? Fucking dipshit,” he chastises you while you laugh loudly.

Still hesitating at the doorway, Jason rolls his eyes. “Come on in, Jason,” you say happily. “Take off your boots—”

“—take off your pants,” Roy adds cheekily, stepping out of range of your elbow jabbing at him.

“Stay a while,” you beckon him further inside. Jason steps carefully into the apartment, leaving his shoes neatly by the door.

He stands in your living room, looking at you expectantly, if a little unsure. Roy speaks up.

“Listen, Jay, we…” he moves behind you, pulling you to his chest. “We really wanted you to say yes.” He rests his elbows on your shoulders, rubbing slow circles into your chest with the pads of his fingers.

“Mmm,” you add, letting desire color your gaze. “Had us waiting on pins and needles for two whole weeks.” Your hand slides into Roy’s hair as you stare appreciatively at Jason. “Bet it’s worth the wait though.”

Jason blushes, eyes falling to the ground. “Can I do something,” Roy mutters in your ear. You nod.

All of a sudden, he knocks his knees against yours, clutching your towel as you stumble away from him, fully naked. “Fucking hell, Roy!” you shout as you right yourself, slapping him upside the head. “What was that for?”

Roy shrugs, wearing a sly grin. He steps back into place behind you, taking your hips and squaring them forward. What the fuck is he doing? You frown, elbowing at him, but he’s not even looking at you, he’s looking at Jason over your head. You follow his gaze.

Oh. Jason’s stare is a knife.

He looks at you like his narrowed eyes are cataloging every inch of your skin. His gaze is razor-sharp, and it darts from point to point on your body with strict focus. Roy moves his hands from your hips, lightly tracing up over ribs, across your stomach, down to just the edge of your sex. Jason tracks the movement eagerly, likely noting the goosebumps that form in the wake of Roy’s fingers.

Eventually, Jason’s gaze moves to your face, almost questioning. You nod, giving a slight smile. He begins looking you over again, eyes still sharp, but this time he lets himself linger. Roy notices the change and lets his hands wander wherever Jason pauses, caressing your hips, the skin just under your breasts, the meat of your thighs. He groans in your ear and kisses you, neatly sliding his tongue in your mouth. “Too fucking beautiful,” he mutters. “Can’t believe you’re mine, can’t believe I get to have you in my bed.”

He pulls back, eyes dark and glittering. “You in a porno or somethin’?” he teases, voice low and rough. “Waitin’ in just a towel for the pizza guy to come dick you down? For us to come dick you down?” he adds gleefully, turning to Jason.

“Shut up! That wasn’t what I was doing!” you insist, then gasp when Roy lets his teeth catch your earlobe.

“Mm, sure,” Roy purrs. “Keep telling yourself that, babydoll.”

“Ugh!” You ignore the desire leaking into your gut. “You know what, just for that, you can hang the towel up.” You hold it out to him, staring pointedly.

Sighing dramatically, Roy grabs the towel and stalks off to the bathroom. Leaving you and Jason alone.

He’s still staring. You meet his gaze head on, holding it before letting your eyes carefully tread down his body, just as he did yours. He’s so beautiful, you have to tell him so.

“Jason, I—” you take a slow, careful step toward him. “I’m so glad you’re here, I was so hoping you’d say yes.” Your voice shakes, cracking slightly. “I’ve wanted to touch you all week, wanted to touch you since you left Roy’s place.” Looking at him earnestly, you say, “couldn’t get you out of my mind. Kept thinking about how beautiful you are, how gorgeous you looked last time.”

Jason looks slightly shocked. “I’ve, uh, I’ve been thinking about it too,” he mutters eventually.

You break out into a wide smile. “Can I touch you now?” you ask carefully. He opens his mouth but stays silent. “Only if you want to,” you add, holding your hands out in front of you.

After what feels like ages, Jason nods. “Oh—okay.”

You step into his orbit. “On your arms?”

Jason nods again. It feels like he’s holding his breath.

Slowly, telegraphing every move, you rest your hand on his bicep. Jason closes his eyes, tensing, and you wait, stilling yourself. Eventually, he opens his eyes and looks down at you, and you begin to trace your fingers around the hard muscle.

Good lord. His arm is huge. You splay your hand flat and you can’t even reach the curve of it, even stretching your fingers. You take your other hand to see if you can lock your fingers around it; you only just manage.

“Fucking hell,” you mutter. You hear a chuckle above you, and you look up to see Jason smirking. You color, and he laughs at you.

You see an opportunity. “I mean, fuck, Jason.” You let your voice dip, eyes wide. “Don’t know what you expect me to do with those.” You run a fingernail up to his shoulder. “Makes me want to…” you trail off, biting your lip.

Jason stifles a shiver. Slowly, always slowly, you move your hand over his shoulder and back down his arm, skimming his forearm. You rub your thumb into the muscle there. “So pretty, Jason,” you murmur, moving to caress his wrist. “You’re so beautiful.”

Jason squeezes his eyes shut, gritting his teeth like he’s trying to keep himself together. You examine his arm again, without an audience. Jason has a lot of scars. A lot. Way more than Roy, even though they’re in the same line of work.

Jesus. No wonder he’s insecure, he’s got a body that’s been ripped apart.

You hear a step, and suddenly Roy’s arms come up around your middle. You try to meet his eyes, but he’s looking at Jason, smile half encouraging, half smirking. Huh.

“So what’re we doin’ tonight, Jaybird?” he asks, grinning, hands softly caressing your breasts. You gasp, leaning heavily into Roy.

Jason pulls his face together, cools his eyes so they can stare you down. “Can I eat you out?”

Uh, yup.

“Yeah, of course,” you breathe. “Whatever you want.” Especially if it’s that.

“Hold on.” Roy frowns. “Slow your roll, there.”

What is with him today? You pinch at his thigh, and he looks down at you, willing you to understand something. “We want to make you feel good, too, Jay,” he adds, sliding a hand up Jason’s arm.

Oh. Okay, fair. Jason’s not going to be getting much attention if he’s giving you head. Damn Roy for his insight.

“Will you let us take care of you, Jason?” you add softly.

He freezes, then nods.

“Can I blow you?” Roy asks, voice breathless. You pull in a sharp breath.

Jason looks shocked all over again. “Uh, ye—yeah.” He gives Roy that soft smile again. Roy smiles back winningly.

All well and good, but what about you? You’re not ready to just sit back and watch, not yet.

As if thinking the same, Jason opens his mouth. “But I still want to eat you out.” He looks at you, determined.

You grin at him. “I think we can make that work.” You stroke your fingers up Roy’s arm. Annoyingly, he stays quiet.

Jason’s face settles, and he gives a confident grin. “Wanna sit on my face?”

Yes please! But Roy’s been weird, so you turn to him first.

He looks down at you, sees how eager you are, and gives a mock sigh. “I guess I can let you fall on that sword,” he teases. Then he grins wickedly, and you smirk in return.

“Not the sword I wanted to fall on!” you say together, laughing.

“Christ, that was bad,” Jason mutters. You and Roy grab him by the arms and muscle him into your bedroom.

As soon as you get inside, Roy shoves him toward the bed. Rolling his eyes, Jason unbuttons his pants and starts to slide them down. You and Roy freeze, watching eagerly.

“What?” Jason looks at you, frowning over his shoulder.

“Nothing, nothing,” you answer quickly.

“Keep going,” Roy prods impatiently.

Cheeks going pink, Jason lets his pants drop to the floor, followed by his underwear.

Good god. “Batman’s training has that ass tight,” Roy notes.

“Harper, I will walk the fuck out right now,” Jason threatens.

“Yeah, Roy, how about you go ahead and shut the fuck up,” you mutter. Roy frowns, and you soothe him by sliding a hand into his sweatpants and gripping his ass tightly. He stands ramrod straight at your touch, grinning at you. “I mean, this is just unfair,” you add. “Surely too much of a good thing is too much of a good thing, right?”

Jason turns, eyes zooming in on your hand down the back of Roy’s pants. “You got me excited,” you say, shrugging. “I needed a stress ball.”

Jason snorts while Roy laughs outright.

“Come on, cowboy,” you say to Roy. “Don’t leave Jason and I hanging.” You start to tug his sweats down. Roy kicks them out of the way and shrugs off his shirt.

You look at Jason and frown. “Can you take your shirt off?”

Jason’s face goes stony. You can almost hear his armor slot into place. “Nope.”

You try to recover. “Okay, no worries.” You look over at Roy, whose face is even, resigned.

Turning, Jason climbs onto your bed. “Come on then, princess.”

Princess? And just who does he think he is?

You take him in, strong arms cradling his head on your pillow, cock leaning against his muscled thigh in a bed of thick, curly hair.

Your mouth goes dry. Yeah, okay, you can be princess. For now.

You glance at Roy, then climb onto the bed. “You ever done this before?” Jason raises an eyebrow. “Just—just don’t let me suffocate you, okay?”

“If you can’t breathe, tap the thigh three times,” Roy adds.

Jason rolls his eyes. “I think I can handle it. Come on.”

Cautiously, you position yourself over him, holding onto the headboard and keeping most of your weight on your knees. Looking down, you see Jason roll his eyes again before grabbing your thighs and forcing you down onto his face, lips suddenly in your cunt.

“Fuck, Jason,” you hiss, pulling his hair. “You good?”

He ignores you, kissing his way lightly through your folds. You settle against his face and grip the headboard. “Ah-ah, feels good,” you smile down at him. Jason’s lips skim your clit and you gasp. He kisses it eagerly, still soft in a way that has you sighing.

Jason keeps it for another minute, alternating between kissing lightly at your clit and moving his lips down your folds. It feels nice, but it’s not giving you enough. You need more.

“Jason.” You look down to see his eyes staring up at you, guarded. “Jason, use your tongue,” you instruct.

His eyes narrow. Immediately, his tongue runs flush up your folds, laving heavily at your clit. Sparks fly from your core, and your entire body jolts.

“Jesus, fuck!” you scream. Jason digs his hands into the meat of your thighs and positions you right where he wants you, tongue reaching up and rubbing ceaselessly against your clit.

Your hips chase away from him. “Jason,” you pant, “Jason, it’s too much.”

Jason raises an eyebrow. “A second ago it wasn’t enough.”

He jerks you back down, tongue going greedily back to your clit. The shocks to your core are too intense, too much too soon. You whine, moving your hips against his face to try as find a rhythm you can handle. Jason lets out a groan when you grind against him.

You smile, running your fingers in your hair. “Yeah? You like it when I grind on you?”

Jason’s answering stare is brutal, and you laugh out loud. Then he gets his lips around your clit and sucks and sucks and sucks, and you almost lose your mind.

“F-fuck! Fuck, Jason, that feels so good, please don’t stop—”

“Yeah?” Jason smirks at you. “Not too much anym—ugh!”

He moans, and you can feel his hips buck. “Fuck, Roy,” he growls when he resurfaces.

You gasp out loud; you almost forgot. Roy is sucking Jason’s cock, in this room, right behind you.

You shift your weight onto one knee, hips eagerly turning to get a better look. The strong hands on your thighs tighten, pulling you back into place.

You look down. “Nuh-uh.” Jason’s wearing a stern look. “You’re staying right here.”

“But Jason, I wanna see!” you whine, craning your neck.

“Tough shit.” He resettles you against his face and picks up right where he left off, lips wrapped around your clit.

“Fuck,” you groan, melting against his lips. “Jesus, Jason,” you pant. “Who knew—fuck—who knew you were such an asshole,” you say, grinning at him through ragged breath. He looks up at you like he knows exactly what you mean, and you thread your fingers into his hair and pull.

“Mmh,” he moans into your pussy as his hips buck again. His chin jumps, nose bumping against your clit. You gasp, gripping the headboard and grinding down on him.

“That’s it, princess,” he growls. “Fuck my face, wanna see what it feels like.”

Holy fucking shit. Is this man for real?

You gasp, nodding. Then you do what you’ve wanted to do from the start and slam your hips down against him, bucking and rolling and chasing an orgasm that’s getting closer every time Jason’s hands squeeze your thighs.

Jason doesn’t let up, licking and sucking at your clit. You find a rhythm that burns you all the way to your fingertips and ride his face just like he told you to. “Shit, Jason, it’s too good,” you pant. “‘S too good, I’m gonna—”

The crest of your orgasm punches through you. You cry out, limbs going stiff around Jason’s head. His eyes run through you as he carefully watches, carefully licks against you as you come down.

“Fucking hell, baby, that was so good.” You smile down at him, moving to get off and let him breathe. Again, his hands lock you in place. You roll your eyes. “Jason, what—”

He shakes his head. “Not done,” he grunts, panting against you. You place a hand behind you and feel his abs flex and roll under his t shirt; can hear the slick sounds of Roy’s head bobbing on his cock.

Ah. Guy’s got an oral fixation, or something. Whatever.

You nod, settling back around him, letting him lick against you. A thought pops into your head, and you give him a wicked grin, fingernails scraping against his scalp.

“Roy’s really good at that, huh,” you say, voice slick and smooth and loud enough for Roy to hear.

Jason’s eyes widen a fraction, then narrow. You stare him down, grin widening.

“What’s he doing, Jason-baby?” you coo. “Is he taking you down his throat, are his lips moving up and down around your cock?”

Jason’s hips stutter, and you hear Roy groan.

“Or is he taking his time,” you continue. “I bet you are, Roy, you always like to enjoy yourself.” Roy laughs, and Jason’s eyes widen again. “He’s like that, baby,” you tell him, gently caressing his hair. “I bet he’s—ah!”

Jason sucks viciously at your clit. You roll your hips against his face, then find your voice again. “I bet he’s dragging his tongue up and down your shaft,” you say confidently. “Is he, baby? Has he run his tongue along your tip so he can taste your pre? Or were you too sensitive?”

Both of them moan at that. You shiver happily, moving both arms down to cradle Jason’s head in your hands. “Has he played with your balls?” you ask, then purse your lips, considering. “I bet he has, Roy, have you?” you call over your shoulder.

Roy grunts, and beneath you, Jason nods shakily. “Uh-huh, I knew it.” You nod in satisfaction. “Knew he got his hands there to make you feel good. Or was it his mouth? Did he suck gently at the skin around them? Did he take one into his mouth?”

Jason moans, hips stuttering wildly. “Harper,” he calls out, voice unsteady. “Harper, ‘m—”

His sentence is cut off with a strangled groan as he comes. You look down at him happily. Jason’s eyes are squeezed shut, face twisted. You run your dingers through his hair as he pants through it, grinning at him as he opens his eyes. “So fucking hot, baby,” you tell him.

“Okay,” you hear Roy call from behind you. “Get the fuck over here.” He grabs you, manhandling you over Jason’s body to his side of the bed.

“Jesus, Roy!” you shout in surprise, turning to look at him. His face shuts you right up.

Roy’s eyes are dark, gaze heavy. You look at his lips and gasp—Jason’s come still lingers at the corner of his mouth. “Can’t have you talkin’ like that all the way over there,” he growls. Getting up on his knees behind you, pulling you upright, he grinds his dick into your ass.

You smile, moving with him. “Got you all riled up, huh?"

Roy shakes his head. “Both of you,” he says, voice rough. “Fuck, babydoll, talking so fucking filthy, made me wanna fuck you till you scream.” His hand reaches around for your cunt, easily sliding his fingers between your folds. He goes right for your clit, and you gasp, hands holding his arm in a vice grip. “Lemme fuck you, babygirl,” Roy coaxes, sucking a hickey into your neck.

“Yeah,” you breathe out. “Yeah, Roy, c’mon.”

“Jay,” Roy calls, fingers sliding maddeningly against your clit. “Grab me a condom from the nightstand, would you?”

Shit, that’s hot. Jason looks like he’s been struck dumb. Nodding unsteadily, chin still shiny after you rode it, Jason turns and reaches for the nightstand, rummaging for a condom. Fishing one out, he tosses it to Roy.

“Thank you, baby,” Roy sighs, ripping it open and slipping it onto his cock. He bites your neck in warning, then slams his way inside you.

You groan. “Mm, already so wet, huh?” Roy pants. “So ready for my dick.” He swipes at your clit faster, and when you pull your hips back for breath you find yourself trapped, grinding on his cock.

“Ugh, Roy,” you whine. “Too much.” You rake your nails down his arm hard enough to scratch and he hisses, relenting. “Sorry, sweetheart.” He circles your clit instead, passing over it in a rhythm that has you grinding in time with his thrusts. “Jus’ can’t get enough of you.”

“Mmh.” You grin, tilting your head back and looking at Jason. Just like last time, his eyes—slightly wide—are trained on the two of you. You’re closer this time, and facing him, you can see his eyes dart between your faces, down to your breasts, to Roy’s hand on your cunt. “Always seem to be putting on a show for you, huh, baby?” you say, smiling.

“Can’t, help it, Jay,” Roy pants. He shifts and suddenly his dick hits a new angle.

“Yeah, there, Roy,” you mumble. He drills into you hitting that spot again and again. His fingers circling your clit give you sharp bursts of heat before letting you relax, only to hit you again. Roy knows what you like, and every time his finger hits home the heat burns hotter, getting you closer to the edge.

“Taking your dick down my throat just got me too excited,” Roy says to Jason, growling into your ear.

“Shit Roy!” you sob as he pinches at your clit, electricity flooding through your core.

“I know, babydoll, I know,” he says soothingly. “Jus’ let me—” he grabs at your hips and slams into you wildly, all rhythm gone as he fucks into your pussy till he comes. You feel it when his hips slow, when he lets some of his weight fall on you. His hand in your pussy doesn’t stop, though, and you widen your hips to get a better angle.

“Gonna make you come again, yeah?” Roy asks sweetly, almost condescendingly, and you nod dumbly. “Gonna make you come on my hand.” And he fucking is. Once he brings his other hand up to play with your nipples, it’s all over. You crumble in the face of your orgasm, and Roy lifts his arms up to catch you.

“Mmh, so good, Roy,” you mumble, dropping onto the bed with a thump.

Roy quickly joins you, reaching out to smooth a hand over your hip. “Mmh,” he agrees.

You both look up at Jason. He hesitates, then makes to get up.

“You can stay,” you say hastily, motioning him toward you.

Jason studies the two of you and shakes his head. “Nah. But uh—” his gaze flits between the two of you. “Uh—thanks.” He rolls off the bed and quickly dresses himself.

“Of course!” you say cheerily, feeling like a customer service rep.

“Anytime, Jaybird.” Roy’s voice is thick with satisfaction.

Pants on, Jason stares, nods once, and makes his exit.

“Let us know when we can do this again!” you shout after him, then collapse against Roy.

“Mm, that was great,” Roy says, putting an arm around you.

You narrow your eyes. It was, but you have a bone to pick with Roy. “That was weird.” You poke him in the chest. “You were being weird.”

Immediately, Roy’s demeanor changes. He moves away from you, getting off the bed. “No, I wasn’t.” He leaves your bedroom.

You follow him to the bathroom. “Yeah, you were. What is it?”

Roy pulls off the condom and throws it in the trash, refusing to meet your eyes.

You sigh, leaning against the doorjamb. “Okay, well, that shit with the towel? Presenting me to Jason like I’m some animal?” You wait until he meets your eyes, gaze uneasy. “Wasn’t a fan of that shit, Roy.”

He blows a strand of hair out of his face. “I know.” He moves to the sink, running the tap to wash his hands.

You run a tongue over your teeth, then hug him from behind. “Tell me what’s going on,” you say quietly.

You feel Roy’s back tense. “It’s just—he’s so pretty, you know?” he says finally, shutting off the water. “He’s so gorgeous, and jacked as fuck to boot. When we’re out, he always gets more attention. Not that I want it.” He reaches down to rub your thigh. “But it’s so obvious, all the time.”

“Ah.” You rub a cheek against his back. “But what’s that got to do with me?”

Roy deflates. “Was using you, I think,” he mumbles. “To prove…” he trails off.

“To prove?” you nudge him with your chin.

“…if I can pull you, and he thinks you’re smokin’ hot, then that means I’m…” again, he doesn’t finish, but you get the gist.

You kiss your way down his spine. “Sounds like I’ve been neglecting my kitten, hm?” you murmur. “Sounds like I need to remind him how pretty he is.” You slide your hand over the curve of his ass, teasing between his cheeks. Roy jolts, then shifts his hips back into your hand. He’s blushing, you can see it in the mirror, but he’s wearing a wide grin.

Raising your eyebrows, you give him a challenging look. “What do you think, baby? Do I need to fuck you until you remember how beautiful you are?” You slip your hand in further, fingertips just skimming his asshole.

Roy nods in the mirror, smirking, flush creeping down his neck. “I think you do.”

Quick as a flash, you drop to your knees and sink your teeth into the flesh of his ass, making him yelp. “Anything for you, babygirl.”

Ten minutes later you’re lying on your back, watching Roy fuck himself on your strap. “Jesus, baby, aren’t you a picture,” you praise. He looks impossibly sinful, muscles flexing as he rolls himself down against you. He smiles widely at you, brow twisted in concentration, moaning as he grinds his hips just right. You rub your hands up and down his thighs. “You know these thighs keep me up at night, don’t you, kitten?” you coo softly.

Roy stifles a groan. “Ye—yeah?” he pants.

“Mm.” You run your fingers over the corded muscle. “Don’t even need the headboard, don’t even need to use your arms,” you murmur, voice awed. “Just bouncing yourself up and down on my cock with only your thighs and your abs.”

He grins happily and increases his pace, showing off. “Fuck, kitten,” you moan, “you look like you could do that all day.”

“Bet I could,” he smirks. “Bet I could—ah—fuck myself on your cock for hours straight.”

“Don’t threaten me with a good time, babygirl,” you tease. You bring a hand up to swipe at his nipple. Roy gasps, then whines, chasing your hand with his own and bringing it back to his chest.

“Don’t worry, kitten, I’ll play with your tits,” you reassure him. “Just gotta get my fill of your abs first.” One hand on his hip, you lay the other flat on his stomach, tracing the outline of his muscles. “God, Roy,” you say, mesmerized. “Your body is so fucking perfect.” You look him dead in the eyes as he goes uncharacteristically shy, turning his face away from you. “Such a gorgeous, perfect body, I want to kiss every inch of you.”

“Yeah?” he asks, voice quiet.

“Yeah. And you’re so handsome. Every time I look at you it’s all I can think about, how beautiful you are.” You caress his hips, running your thumbs over them gently. “I’m so lucky,” you murmur, “I’m so grateful that it’s me that gets to be with you.”

Roy smiles softly, leaning down and putting an arm on either side of you. You tilt your hips up, planting your feet on the bed, and raise your chin to meet his lips with your own.

You kiss him as softly and sweetly as you can, bringing your hands up to cradle his face. “Love you so much,” you whisper against him.

Roy exhales. “Love you too, baby. Thank you.” He knocks his head lightly against yours.

“Anytime.” You run your hand up his side and he shivers. You grin at him. “Almost forgot you had a dick inside you.”

“I didn’t,” he pants. Knees driving into the mattress, Roy grinds himself on your strap, inching toward you before slamming himself back down. This time, you roll your hips to meet him, making him moan and pick up his rhythm.

“Since you love me,” Roy breathes, “how about you jerk me off, hm?”

You eye his cock, laying flushed and stiff between you. “Please, baby?” he wheedles.

You slap his ass, making him shriek. “I don’t think so, kitten.”

“So mean to me,” he mutters, absolutely shaking.

“Oh, come on.” You bring a hand up to sharply pinch his nipple, rolling it between your fingers. “We both know you can finish all by yourself,” you call over his moan, hips keeping pace to drive the strap inside him.

“Don’t—don’t stop,” Roy pleads.

“Don’t worry, kitten, I know what you need.”

And you do. You play with his nipples and roll your hips and Roy grunts and moans and comes all over your chest. After his breathing calms down, you dip a finger in his spend and hold it up to Roy, who licks it clean.

“Rating?” you ask.

He scrunches his face. “Two out of ten.”

“Really?” You taste his come yourself. “Ugh, Roy, what did you eat? It’s nasty this time.”

“Dunno.” He rolls off of you and into the bathroom.

“Eat more pineapple,” you call after him. He returns and tosses you a damp washcloth. “Especially before we see Jason again,” you add meaningfully.

That stops Roy cold. “Holy shit. You think he’ll blow me?”

“He gave me head,” you reason. “That means you’re next, pal.”

“Fuck, you’re right,” he resettles himself on the bed while you pull the strap off of you. “You good, by the way?” Roy asks. “You want me to,” he mimes fingering you.

You shove him. “Dumbass. No, I’m good.”

He grins at you. “Yeah, I bet you are. ‘Cause Jason gave you fucking head.”

“I know!” you squeal, kicking your legs.

“You lucky sunovabitch,” Roy says longingly.

“Well, you sucked him off,” you remind him.

“Ugh, dude.” Roy shakes his head. “What a privilege.”

You burst out laughing. “Okay, tell me all about it in the shower.” You get up from the bed.

Roy stands up. “Only if you tell me all about it.”

“Done.” You follow him into the bathroom.

———

That was so much fun!!

I had to establish that reader can also be a dom. So two sex scenes for the price of this taking me fucking forever

Tag list:

@xxwelshqueenxx

@porcelain-winter-doll

[yeyinde]

DOGMEAT MASTERLIST

BUTCHER!SIMON RILEY X READER

you're aware of him in the same way you are of a livewire. holding a metal rod in a lightning storm. there's a sense of danger that seems to permeate around him; a warning to stay away.

one you're all too keen to listen to.

but it doesn't matter because he takes an interest in you anyway.

i. bos taurus | mafia butcher/enforcer ii. field dressing | slaughterer/murderer iii. ikejime | sushi chef, siren

SERIES WARNINGS: smut. heavy noncon. kidnapping. mentions of violence. butchery. allusions to gore, murder. au | mafia, light southern gothic/70s, very dark&twisted fantasy

[nhmkhnh]

a quick drabble, ib this post || suggestive

dom!vi x fem reader || minors & men dni

"boop."

your voice is a gentle whisper, a smile tugging at your lips as your fingertip brushes the tip of vi’s nose. she's sprawled across the couch, hoodie half-zipped and her eyes barely open—somewhere between asleep and pretending to be. you can see the way her lashes flutter like she’s trying not to grin.

she doesn’t move at first.

you wait, finger still pressed against her nose, until the slightest shift happens. her head tilts up… slow. lazy. almost too lazy—until your finger slides down with her movement and lands right on her mouth.

her lips part around it. just a little.

you open your mouth to say something—something teasing, maybe—but the look in her eyes punches the air out of your chest.

sleepy’s gone.

gone.

that was a lie.

what stares back at you now is sharp. starving.

vi’s hand comes up, catching your wrist with too much care to be innocent. her eyes narrow, lashes low like she's measuring how much control she wants to pretend to have.

then she bites.

not hard. not enough to hurt. but her teeth sink into the pad of your finger, just enough to make you freeze. your breath hitches as her tongue follows right after, a slow lick across the spot she bit—then her lips close over your fingertip entirely.

she sucks.

and fuck, it’s not shy.

you feel the wet heat of her mouth like it’s everywhere—your spine lights up like a livewire, and all you can do is stare as she stares back at you, still sucking your finger like it’s her tongue down your throat instead. her mouth is obscene, and she knows it.

she likes that you’re frozen.

her lips pop off with a quiet sound, and she finally speaks—voice scratchy, low, like it dragged itself from the base of her chest.

“you thought that was funny?” she murmurs.

you swallow. “was cute—”

vi shifts. in one second, she’s on her knees. in two, she’s on top of you, thigh between yours, both arms caging you in as your back hits the couch.

your breath’s already shallow and she hasn’t even touched you yet.

she tilts her head, and her voice drops lower. “wanna see what i do to cute girls who tease me when i’m tired?”

you try to speak, but all that comes out is a small, shaky breath.

that’s enough for her.

her mouth finds your throat, kissing it open-mouthed, hot and wet. you feel her teeth drag lightly over your skin before she whispers, “bet you wanted this. that little finger stunt? you knew what it’d do.”

her hand slides down your side, slow and deliberate, until it rests on your thigh.

then squeezes.

you whimper.

vi smirks against your skin. “that’s what i thought.”

she shifts her knee higher—presses it right between your legs—and rocks it just enough to make you gasp.

you don’t know if she’s tired anymore. you don’t care.

you only know her voice is dangerous when she growls next to your ear:

“now keep that finger out,” she says, dragging your hand back up to her mouth. “i’m not done with it.”

and this time, when she sucks it in again, it’s not a game anymore.

it’s a promise.

and you’re not walking straight tomorrow.

[marcyvamp1re-blog]

⺌☆. . . MASTERLIST ───  . DC & Marvel

☆...Original art; discount-supervillain

「 The list is updated daily. If you'd like to see a character on this list, please request it or ask in the comments if they can be added.

Below is a list of links. If at any point none of them work, please send me a message or comment below the list mentioning the issue, and I will fix it immediately. Not all links have visible warnings from the outside. Most do not have explicit warnings. However, if you're interested in any particular link, I recommend opening it and checking the warnings within each post to understand its content.

Also, if you see some titles without a link, it may be because they are not yet made or haven't been published yet.」

☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆

Welcome to the DC Section—Tread Carefully, or Darkseid Will Get You!

─── SUPERMAN Clark Kent

☆...Reporter by day, hero by night… and also by day! The real star-man. Can lift buildings, see through walls, and give Lex Luthor a heart attack just by existing.

Its Evolution, Baby! Yandere Clark Kent x Inmortal! Reader [old post]

Quimera Yandere! Clark Kent x Android reader.

─── BATMAN Bruce Wayne

☆...Billionaire by day, vigilante by night… and apparenty, never sleeps. His superpowers? Money and being Gotham’s most wanted bachelor.

Revenant Platonic! Yandere! Bruce Wayne x neglected! Reader. (Silly Little Bat AU)

─── WONDER WOMAN Diana Prince

☆...Amazonian princess, warrior goddess, and the reason many reconsider which side they’re fighting for.

To the future Diana Prince x Wife! Preg! Reader

─── SUPERBOY Conner Kent

☆...Half Superman, half Lex Luthor—because cloning is never a good idea. Too cool for school, too powerful for his own good, and forever stuck between "punch first" and "think later."

The Jubilee Conner Kent x Jubilee! Reader

───  ROBIN Damian Wayne

☆...Batman’s son, raised by assassins, and practically immortal. His favorite hobby? Reminding everyone he’s better than them.

Ponyo! Pt.1 Pt.2 Platonic! Damian Wayne x Ponyo! Reader.

The Wildcart series pt1 pt2 pt3 Platonic!Harley Quinn x Reader | Damian Wayne x Harley Daughter! Reader

─── RED ROBIN Tim Drake

☆...The Bat-Family’s teenage detective, the smart one. He probably solved this joke before you even finished reading it.

Nothing yet...

─── RED HOOD Jason Todd

☆...Once: Robin. Now: a guy with guns, authority issues, and serious family drama… well, just with his dad.

Nothing yet...

───  NIGHTWING Dick Grayson

☆...The original Boy Wonder with the best backside in comics. Leads teams, breaks hearts, and jumps rooftops like a pro.

Pierrot, the Sad Clown Yandere! Dick Grayson x Villainess! Reader

The Playboy Yandere! Student! Dick Grayson x depressed! Reader

─── ORPHAN / BATGIRL Cassandra Cain

☆...Doesn’t talk much, but doesn’t need to when she can take you down with a single look. Relax, she already knows everything about you.

Atelophobia Cassandra Cain x Asian! Fem reader!

─── HARLEY QUINN Harleen Quinzel

☆...From psychiatrist to villain, to hero, to whatever she wants to be today. Chaotic yet charming—everyone’s favorite girl

The Wildcart series pt1 pt2 pt3 Platonic!Harley Quinn x Reader | Damian Wayne x Harley Daughter! Reader

Sororal Platonic! Harley Quinn x Reader

─── POISON IVY Pamela Isley

☆...An eco-terrorist with style. Loves plants, eats meat, and hates humans… except for Harley. But let’s be real, Harley doesn’t really count as human.

But I, love Ivy Pamela Isley x Reader (Silly Little Bat)

Death in Bloom Pamela Isley x Male! Reader

─── LIVEWIRE Leslie L. Willem

☆...The rebel radio host with more voltage than a lightning storm. Don’t touch her unless you like frizzy hair… or want to risk your life!

Voicenote Leslie L. Willem x Male! Reader

Marvel’s Mightiest! Starting with Squirrel Girl—Because Even Galactus Fears Her!

─── WINTER SOLDIER Bucky Barnes

☆...Ex-sidekick, ex-brainwashed assassin, current broody guy with a metal arm. Still figuring things out.

Little Soldier Yandere! Platonic! Winter Soldier! Bucky Barnes x Supersoldier! Teen! Reader

Welcome to the 80's Yandere! Platonic! Steven Rogers x reader x Yandere! Platonic! Bucky Barnes

─── CAPTAIN AMERICA Steve Rogers

☆...Super-soldier, shield thrower, and America’s best boy scout. Can do this all day. He loves cookies...a lot.

Welcome to the 80's Platonic! Steven Rogers x reader x Platonic! Bucky Barnes

─── SPIDER-MAN Peter Parker & variants

☆...Wall-crawling, web-slinging, wise-cracking menace (according to J. Jonah Jameson). The amazing Spiderman!Just trying to balance life, rent, and saving New York...or Japan...or England, they are so many Spiders today! Damn multiverse!

Lacrymose Yandere! Cheater! Miguel O'Hara x Wife! Reader

─── VENOM Eddie Brock

☆...A journalist, a monster, and kind of a lethal protector. Likes brains, hates Spider-Man a lot.

The Monster Platonic Venom x Reader

─── SQUIRREL GIRL Doreen Green

☆...The unbeatable, unbreakable, unmatchable Squirrel Girl! She’s taken down Thanos, Galactus, and probably you in your sleep.

Balter Platonic! Doree Green x Mutant! Reader

─── PROFESSOR X Charles Xavier

☆...Mind-reader, mentor, and leader of the X-Men. Has a dream of mutant-human peace—if only Magneto would stop ruining it.

The Song of the Raven series Pt1 Pt2 Yandere! Platonic!Charles Xavier x Raven! reader x Yandere! Platonic! Erik Lehnsherr

─── MAGNETO Erik Lehnsherr

☆...Master of magnetism, enemy-turned-ally-turned-enemy-again. Probably right about mutants, but also probably too dramatic about it.

The Song of the Raven series Pt1 Pt2 Yandere! Platonic!Charles Xavier x Raven! reader x Yandere! Platonic! Erik Lehnsherr

Fata Morgana Yandere Erik Lehnsherr x Chubby! Witch! Reader

─── CYCLOPS Scott Summers

☆...The guy who can’t take off his sunglasses—unless he wants to level a city block. Team leader, rule follower, Jean Grey’s eternal headache!..or not.

Devil in Paradise Yandere! Scott Summers x Mutant!Reader

Little Pebble Yandere! Platonic! Scott Summers x Mutant!Reader

Bag of bones Yandere! Scott Summers x Amnesiac! Reader.

─── GAMBIT Remy LeBeau

☆...The smooth-talking, card-throwing Cajun thief. Can make anything explode—especially hearts.

Black Sheep Yandere! Platonic! Remy LeBeau x reader.

─── NIGHTCRAWLER Kurt Wagner

☆...A teleporting, acrobatic, demon-looking sweetheart. More Catholic guilt than your grandma. He's a baby boy.

Lurks Within Walls Yandere Kurt Wagner x Mutant! Reader

Nocturnal Animal Yandere Kurt Wagner x Wife! Reader

─── BEAST Hank McCoy

☆...A genius, a gentleman, and a giant blue fuzzball. Talks like Shakespeare, fights like a beast.

Savior Complex Yandere Hank McCoy x reader

─── STORM Ororo Munroe

☆...Controls the weather, commands respect, and makes every entrance legendary. A literal goddess.

My Pearl Yandere! Platonic! Ororo Munroe x Clon! Reader

─── PHOENIX Jean Grey

☆...Omega-level psychic, cosmic firebird, occasional planet-destroyer. She dies and comes back more often than a soap opera character.

Mourning Sun Yandere! Platonic! Jean Grey x Telepath! Reader

─── ROGUE Anna Marie

☆...One touch and she steals your powers, memories, and maybe your soul. Southern charm with a serious "hands-off" policy.

All I Wanted Anna Marie x Inmune! Reader

─── STAR-LORD Peter Quill

☆...Space outlaw, mixtape enthusiast, and self-proclaimed legendary hero. Usually messing things up in the best way possible.

Ramé Peter Quill x Astronaut! Reader

Nova Peter Quill x Alien! Reader

This part is under maintenance!

And finally, DOCTOR DOOM . Because all stories should end with Doom… at least according to him.

[twola]

pls pls pls can we have a little drabble of arthur eating reader out 🧎🏻‍♀️ i can’t stop thinking about him hidden underneath her skirts so she can only feel his lips on her

Ladylike

Arthur Morgan x F!Reader Smut (18+), MDNI

➵ Fic Masterlist ➵ AO3 Link

It’s certainly not ladylike, these noises that you’re making - gasping, moaning, wailing-

“Arthur please-”

Begging.

But no, the outlaw beneath your skirts would not give you mercy, licking and sucking and squeezing. He had crawled in between your thighs as the two of you lounged in the mountain meadow, bright red poppies scattered on the hillside.

Your breath hitches as he nibbles at the the sensitive skin of the jointure of your thigh and cunt.

He licks one long, slow stripe up the seam of your body, tongue parting your folds, and a broken sound of pleasure escapes you as your dig your fingers into the dirt beneath you.

He groans against you, thick with arousal himself, and swirls his tongue around that bud of your pleasure, warm and wet and overwhelming.

As much as you want to watch the bobbing of his head covered by your skirts, you have to throw your head back and keen when he moves downward and finally pushes his tongue past the rim of your cunt.

“Shit- Arthur-”

He grunts in response, his hands pulsing on your thighs like a livewire. His chapped lips are rough against the sensitive skin of your folds, as he shoves his tongue deeper into your cunt.

You draw your skirts up, slowly revealing his shoulders, his neck, and finally his shorn hair, you’re unable to stop yourself from running your fingers through those honeyed strands.

His eyes refocus on yours, his mouth fully over your cunt. He stares, those blue pools deep enough for you to drown in, takes a breath through his nose, and without wrenching his gaze away, he sucks.

Your reaction is immediate, a high, keening wail as you come. His hands tighten around your hips as you buck into him.

He draws away, his mouth and chin glistening wet with your slick. You pant, incredulous as you’re barely able to keep yourself upright.

“Perfect little thing you are.” Arthur rumble, a smile creeping across his face. He sits up on his knees.

There’s a mischievous glint in his eyes as he reaches toward the buttons of his pants.

[huggingkoalas]

𝐫𝐢𝐝𝐞 𝐦𝐞 𝐢𝐭 | natasha romanoff

pairing — ‧₊˚ avenger!natasha romanoff x fem!avenger!reader

summary — ‧₊˚ riding a motorcycle should be similar to riding her face, right?

word count — ‧₊˚ 1.8k

warning(s) — ‧₊˚ smut, use of vibrators (using a literal motorcycle), mentions of ‘exhibitionist’/‘voyuerism’ kink, mentions/use of ‘mommy’ kink, pet names, teasing, cursing, established relationship, bottom!reader, top!natasha

authors note — ‧₊˚ am i going absolutely feral over nat's motorcycle scenes in age of ultron and black widow? yessir :P + this fic is inspired by this tiktok edit of nat too <3

“Will you teach me how to ride, Nat?” You asked, stopping your gentle scratches on her scalp.

Natasha, lying on the bed with her head on your lap, turned her attention from the movie playing on the television to you. Amused, she raised her eyebrows, her infamous smirk on her lips. “Are you talking about my face?”

You slapped her hard on the arm and shook your head in amusement. “I meant the motorcycle, you weirdo.” 

“Ouch, that hurts.” Natasha hissed with a pout on her face. 

Both you and Natasha knew she could handle physical pain since she was literally the Black Widow. Even if she didn’t have superpowers like Thor and the Hulk, she was still one of the most powerful women in the world. Fighting the desire to roll your eyes, you played along with her antics. You rubbed her arm, eyes twinkling in faux pity while mouthing ‘sorry’. 

“I read the mission reports everyone sent from the Ultron Offensive mission. I had no idea you knew how to ride a motorcycle.” You remarked, continuing your featherlight strokes along her hair. You wish you were there that day. If you witnessed Natasha riding a motorcycle, skillfully navigating through traffic and avoiding danger, you’d be drooling right away.

“I guess it just never came up. I wouldn’t mind teaching you, though. It would be hot if you rode something other than my face.” Natasha teased.

“Nat!” Your cheeks turned bright red from her comment. “I-I mean, you’ll have to teach me the basics first, though. I don’t think I’m ready to drive one yet.”

The thought of driving a fast vehicle sent shivers down your spine. Despite feeling scared, you wanted to impress your girlfriend. Maybe if you tried something dangerous, like learning how to ride a motorcycle, she wouldn’t keep calling you a scaredy cat.

“I can teach you the basics now.” She replied, removing her head from your lap and sitting up.

“N-Now? You sure?” You hesitated. “I mean, sure, yeah, okay.”

You didn’t think she’d teach you how to ride a motorcycle now, but you weren’t complaining. Natasha intertwined your fingers with yours, dragging you to the garage quickly. 

You could see the excitement in her eyes as she led you to the garage. The green in her eyes was brighter than usual, and you couldn’t help an endearing smile appearing on your face. Seeing this side of her made your heart melt. Sometimes, she reminded you of a puppy.

Your eyes adjusted to the amount of sunlight flittering through the ceiling-to-floor windows once you reached the garage. It was your first time here, and the spaciousness of the area amazed you. Numerous cars, including SUVs and Humvees, were lined neatly side-by-side. Your gaze immediately spotted the familiar black and red motorcycle you had read in her mission report.

“What’s its model again?” You asked, walking to the motorcycle and running your fingertips along the tank cover before resting your palm on the leather seat.

“It’s a Harley-Davidson LiveWire.” Natasha walked up behind you, resting her hands on your hips. “It’s brand new. The motorcycle from the mission got totalled, so Fury and Stark had to buy me another one.”

“Yeah, I know. I had to deal with financial reports afterwards. It’s... really expensive.” You turned your head to look up at her, leaning up to kiss the tip of her nose. “Only the best motorcycle for the best woman in the world.”

“Enough compliments or I’m bringing you to my room and showing you how much you’re the best woman all night.” Natasha husked, her teeth tugging at your earlobe. Her hot breath whispered in your ear, making you weak to your knees.

She released herself from behind you, her famous smirk on her face as she noticed your flustered state. “Alright, get on the motorcycle.” She said, her voice an octave lower than usual. You looked at Natasha, and she was looking at you with darkened eyes. 

You both knew what that tone meant. It was the tone she would use on you when you were writhing on her sheets, moaning her name over and over again as she brought you to multiple orgasms. Both of you knew what the tone did to you. You’d willingly get on your knees and do anything she asked if she used that sultry voice again.

Clearing your throat to brush your mind off the filthy thoughts your brain had come up with, you inquired. “Won’t it tip over if I get on it?”

Natasha lets out a short laugh as you shoot her a nervous look. There’s a mixture of amusement and something else entirely in her green eyes. You're not sure. She’s making you even more nervous than you already are.

“See that little stick on the side propping up the bike?” With a nod of your head, she points to the black pedal holding the vehicle up. “That’s a kickstand. The bike doesn’t magically defy gravity, and it certainly doesn’t fly.”

You wanted to wipe the smug grin off Natasha’s face. Normally you’d make a snarky remark now, but instead, you let her off with a shrug.

“I promise to catch you if, for some reason, the kickstand doesn’t do its job, detka (baby).” The use of the pet name relaxes you a bit, and you nod your head.

“Fine, I trust you. Is there... A specific way to get on it?” You asked.

“Just mount it, lyubov’ (love). It’s the same as riding on my face.” Natasha replied in a teasing tone. Your head snaps towards her, and your cheeks warm. Her arms are crossed, and her biceps are clearly visible as she wears a black sleeveless sweater. You know you won’t survive the rest of the lesson if she acts (and looks) like this.

You grab the handles and slowly swing one leg over the seat. Your feet barely touch the ground, and you’re tiptoeing while sitting on the vehicle. 

“I think the motorcycle is too tall for me.” You looked at her with a frown.

Natasha expertly climbs onto the bike behind you. “Shortie.” She taunts.

“Careful!” You exclaimed, holding onto the handlebars as the bike tilted left and right due to her movement.

You shift in your seat, getting used to the weird position. The motorcycle seemed larger between your thighs. Furthermore, there were a bunch of pedals, levers, and buttons. You were familiar with what the side mirrors do, but you were not sure what everything else does.

Your heart pounded in your ears. The seat slope caused Natasha's body to press up against you. You shudder slightly as you feel her breasts press up against your back. You tried to make yourself comfortable, but her breath against the back of your neck sent a small shiver down to your core. 

“You’re so tense, detka (baby). Do I make you nervous?” She rests her chin on your shoulder, her hands running down your arms to take your hand in hers while you hold the handlebar.

“You’re sleeping on the couch if you don’t shut up right now, Nat.” You replied, gritting your teeth. As much as you liked her relentless teasing, the heightened adrenaline and fear in your body spiked your anxiousness.

“You’re so cute when you’re angry, lyubov’ (love). Let’s start the lesson then.” Natasha said, turning her attention back to the task at hand. 

She turned the key in the ignition on. The rumbling of the motor startled you as the engine started to thrum softly beneath you.

“I’ll put it on neutral since you’re not driving.” She added.

You nodded your head. You had a license to drive a car, so you knew some driving language. But even though you had experience driving a car, you knew that riding a motorcycle was something completely different. You could feel your heart racing and your grip on the handlebars trembling slightly.

“The lever above the left handle is the clutch lever. The one on the right is the lever for the front brake.” Natasha continued, showing and explaining the parts and their functions.

You couldn't concentrate. The vibration of the engine below you and the slight vibration of the seat had your attention instead. You pursed your lips and nodded as you pretended to understand what she was teaching you.

Closing your eyes for a moment, your breath caught in your throat as Natasha’s lips touch the spot where your neck meets your shoulder. “Are you listening to me?” She murmured against your skin.

You pursed your lips and speak shakily. “Y-Yes.”

Natasha smirked as she watched your face, she could clearly see that your mind was somewhere else entirely, exactly where she wanted it to be. “I can make you feel even better...”

“This is the throttle handle that gasses the motor.“ She taps a finger on the right handle. She slowly turns the handle towards you, her wrist applying pressure, and the engine revs louder.

“Shit, Nat-” You gasp out loud, the vibrations beneath you getting stronger the more she turns the handle. You feel even more wetness gathering in your panties.

“Nat,” You whimpered with desperation. “Please, I..I-”

You arch your body against her and throw your head back against her shoulder, enjoying the vibrations from the seat. Natasha almost moans at the sight of you aching for her. She gently pulls your shirt off, throwing it behind her. The cold air sends goosebumps down your arm and her left hand rests on your thigh, squeezing and kneading your clothed thigh.

“Shh... Quiet. You don’t want someone to walk on us like this, do you?” She warns you.

Your lungs are struggling for air as you gasp. Shame and desire course through your veins at the thought of someone catching the both of you in this position. You bite your bottom lip, biting it hard you think it might bleed. 

“Want me to go faster?” She asks in a sultry voice. Without waiting for your response, she twists the handle down quickly, the seat pulsating quickly and louder.

Your torso jolts forward and you can’t stop the moan that leaves the back of your throat. Your panties and pants are sticking to you uncomfortably as the leather seat vibrates harshly against your folds. You’re rutting down onto the seat desperately, aching for release. 

“I-I’m close, Nat, don’t stop, please-” You somehow manage to plead through the haze.

You moan loudly as she revs the engine loudly once more, and you scream ‘mommy’ as you orgasm, stars blinding your eyes as your body shakes with bliss. Your arousal sticks to your thighs and pools onto the leather seat below you as you come down from your high.

Natasha switches off the ignition once you finish tumbling over the edge. The vibration and the sounds from the motorcycle quiet down, and all you can hear is your increased heartbeat and the silence of the garage. You feel your legs and body twitch slightly from the orgasm. 

You turned your head towards her, seeing a shit-eating grin on her face. “Wow, ‘Mommy’, huh? That’s a first.” She teased, licking her lips. “I’ll have so much fun cleaning the bike later.”

You groaned, hiding your face in her neck. “You’re sleeping on the couch tonight.” 

[mattsundaes]

care to share you’re diabolical **** kink though about mattsun????🤔🤔🤔

matsukawa issei x f!reader  — 18+, 1.1k, fingering, desperation, watersports

It was inevitable that you'd find yourself here—straddling Matsukawa's lap atop a pool chair under the dim glow of string lights, his mouth pressed to yours.

You've been dancing around this for long enough, after all.

But the timing could be better, probably. 

Perhaps not at night in the backyard of a rental cottage while the rest of your friends are asleep inside, for instance.

Perhaps not while you’re still dripping wet from the pool, half-naked in a bikini, Mattsun wearing nothing but soaked swim shorts that are doing absolutely nothing to hide the outline of his dick as it presses up into the throbbing space between your spread thighs.

Not that you really want to complain about the latter, per se, but—

It’s hard to focus on the real problem at hand when Matsukawa’s sucking your peaked, sensitive nipples through the damp fabric of your bathing suit, his husky, muffled groan somehow filthier than every wet dream you’ve ever had about him over the years combined. 

Mattsun hooks a finger in the crotch of your bathing suit bottoms and tugs them aside, his lips at your throat as he murmurs, “Fuck, you’re so wet.”

You shiver, hips unconsciously thrusting into his light touch as he rubs a slow circle into the sticky arousal that coats your slit. 

The timing could really, truly be better.

Because you’re finally about to know what it feels like to have Matsukawa Issei’s long fingers inside of you, and you have to pee.

Objectively, you’ve been friends with Mattsun long enough that you normally wouldn’t feel any hesitation about announcing that you need to go use the bathroom in any other situation.

But right now—

Right now, when he’s using his nose to push aside the cup of your bikini top to latch onto your tit, when your thighs are trembling with need as he sucks on your bare nipple and dips the tip of his finger into your wet cunt, when every nerve ending in your body is a shuddering livewire of need because you can’t even begin to comprehend how badly you want this, want him—

Mattsun’s finger suddenly plunges inside of your creamy, tight hole to the last knuckle between one breath and the next, and it’s only the sloppy press of his mouth to yours that contains the desperate, choked out moan that crawls up your throat as pleasure punches hard through your gut. 

“Fuck,” Matsukawa breathes against your mouth, teeth nipping at your bottom lip, tongue following soon after in a soothing motion while you pant as he starts to pump his finger in and out of you.

Your bladder wails in protest, trembling with a painful fullness after hours spent in the pool.

“Mattsun—” 

He slips a second finger into your pussy, and your entire body shudders under the heady grip of pain and pleasure.

“I need to go to the—”

You pull back from the kiss, chest heaving as you meet Matsukawa’s steady gaze.

“Do you want me to stop?” he asks, thumb slowly pressing into your aching clit. 

Your throat feels impossibly dry as you look away from him, unable to hide the way your hips greedily roll forward of their own accord when he slowly begins to pull his fingers out of you.

Your face feels hot.

Your heart thunders behind your ribcage.

“I think you’re supposed to save weird kinks for the third date,” you breathe out, trying to laugh as you say it.

As a joke.

Because you’re joking.

(You’re joking, right?)

Mattsun’s answering huff of amusement is a low, rough sound that drips down your spine and coats your insides in something thick that leaves you feeling dizzy in its wake.

“Answer the question,” he murmurs, pressing a soft kiss to your lips. “Do you want me to stop, or no?”

You shake your head, but just barely.

He cups your chin, tilting it as he gently forces you to meet his gaze. “I need you to say it.”

“I don’t want you to stop,” you tell him quietly.

Mattsun thumbs your clit, just enough to make you breathe in sharply through your nose. “Good. Because I don’t want to stop until you come for me.”

“But I don’t think I can hold—”

“And I don’t want you to hold it,” he tells you calmly, fingers now pumping in and out of you again at an agonizingly slow pace.

Your bladder whines.

Your pussy throbs.

“I’ve never done this,” you whisper, tears of desperation beginning to prick at the corners of your eyes. 

One falls down your cheek, and Matsukawa’s lips catch it along the curve of your jaw in an open-mouthed kiss. “That’s okay.”

Mattsun pulls his fingers out of your pussy, and you choke back a whine, only to gasp when he thrusts them both back inside. Your tight walls clench, pleasure radiating through your body as your desperation reaches a fever pitch, and a dribble of piss leaks out of you.

And it’s hot.

You gasp at the sensation, and Matsukawa groans as he feels it leak into his palm.

“That’s it.”

Fresh tears drip down your cheeks, and he continues to drag his lips over them. 

“Issei,” you whimper, hips rocking into his touch as he finger fucks dribbles of piss out of you.

It feels so fucking good—

“Let go for me,” he says encouragingly against your lips, if not a little desperate himself.

And so you do.

Body temperature still in limbo from the cool pool water, the stream of piss that sprays out of you feels burning hot as it gushes out of your pussy. Combined with the stretch of Matsukawa’s fingers fucking in and out of your tight hole, it’s an unbelievable, scorching burst of indescribable pleasure like nothing you’ve ever felt in your entire life.

Matsukawa groans, “Fuck, fuck fuck fuck.” His fingers pump in and out of you faster, and you whine, pushing more and more hot piss out of your cunt as he exhales, “Good girl. Don’t stop.”

It feels never ending—the keening desperation that’s slick and wet and pliant as it entangles itself right down to the root of your intoxicating pleasure. You know Mattsun’s lap is entirely soaked with your piss at this point. You know it’s all over his cock.

It’s that last thought that sends you tumbling over the edge suddenly, pussy spasming hard, and Mattsun’s answering kiss is filthy and wet as he feels the slick stream of your piss mixing with the sticky, slippery gush of your climax.

You collapse against him, face buried in the crook of his neck, cunt still pulsing with the aftershocks of your pleasure.

Mattsun hugs you to him, holding you close, seemingly unbothered by the filthy mess.

“Well now we have to find something really kinky for our third date,” you eventually mutter into his shoulder.

He laughs.

His dick is still so hard where it’s pressed between your bodies.

“I have a few ideas.”

[rorichuu]

「 𝙖𝙛𝙩𝙚𝙧 𝙝𝙤𝙪𝙧𝙨 」 𝘷𝘰𝘭𝘵/𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳/𝘦𝘥𝘥𝘪𝘦 ! ⚡︎⚡︎

ART BY ! 「 vystralis on tiktok ! 」

ao3 link !

synopsis: you visit the breaker box, expecting a warm welcome until you were greeted with a deserted club. upon searching, you find volt and eddie in a small predicament — eddie and volt and more than happy with you joining.

pairing: volt x eddie x reader

content, mdni: m/m/f threesome, power play, pwp, p in v, semi-public sex, oral, deepthroat, face fucking, overstimulation, dacryphilia, swallowing, creampie/breeding, double teaming, slapping/light impact play, light choking (consensual), hair pulling, squirting .

wc: 3.6k

a/n: uhhh this is kinda filthy sorraayyyy ..

Silence wasn’t something you’d entirely expect upon entering the Breaker Box this late in the evening. 

Your heels clicked against the porcelain floor, elegant as it shone under stage light and the moon pouring through the door. Your hand was swift to close the heavy wood behind you, an audible bang ran through the bar, your gaze washing over the desolate room as you still yourself—unsure. 

“Volt?” Your voice echoed through the bar, though you were greeted with mere silence and the slight flicker of light. Your heart began to pick up its pace—it had only been a week or so since Eddie and Volt resolved their electric duplicity. “Eddie?” Rewarded nothing but silence. 

You began to search the club frantically, your hands running over bar tables and behind velvet curtains, but to no avail. You bit your lip, looking around for hints; a clue... anything. Upon the sea of tables and stage, you find a small door hidden just behind the bar. Something clicked as your feet moved before your mind caught up, rushing to the door as it read: Maintenance. If this wasn’t an explanation for the flickering lights of the club, then she would be at a loss. 

Her hand wrapped around the golden knob, but before she could open the door, she could have sworn her ears had picked up... heavy breathing? Your mind immediately turned for the worse as you swung the door open, only to be greeted by the two men completely entangled with one another.

Eddie was pinned beneath Volt, heat radiating off them in waves. Volt’s broad back loomed, shadowing most of Eddie—but not enough to hide the open fall of Eddie’s shirt, half-unbuttoned and hanging off his shoulders like he’d been grabbed out of it. His chest heaved with every ragged breath, flushed and gleaming with sweat. 

Both of them looked wrecked. Lips red, swollen—kiss-bruised—and a thin string of saliva still connected their mouths from a kiss they’d barely broken when you barged in. Volt turned to face you first, blinking like he was caught somewhere between surprise and satisfaction. His cheeks were tinged with pink, maybe embarrassment—or maybe the thrill of being seen. 

And then you saw it: the flicker in his eyes. That low, slow burn of hunger that always started in the pupils and spread to the smirk tugging at the edge of his mouth. The tension shifted. 

Volt lifted slightly, though his arms still caged Eddie beneath him. “Didn’t... expect you. Not tonight.” His voice was hesitant, slow, as if he was measuring the situation. You stood with a slight shiver down your spine, the scene unexpectant and almost erotic judging by how Volt’s leg was snug between Eddie’s, his cock pinching a tent beneath his tight pants. You gulp. 

“I... wasn’t expecting—” you began, voice wavering. “I thought that you guys were... hurt, or—god, I’ll go.” With the wave of stutters that flooded from your lips, you turned to quickly escape the situation, but a hand that wrapped around your wrist concluded your escape. You turn to face the source; Volt’s eyes were dark—uncharacteristically dark—keeping you in his hold. 

“I wasn’t saying you needed to leave, Livewire,” Volt murmured, eyes blown wide with heat. “We’d love the company… right, Eddie?” You both turned to look at him—Eddie, flushed deep red, mouth slightly parted, like he’d forgotten how to breathe. 

“Volt, what? You can’t be serious.” His voice cracked like static, barely looking at you as if pretending you weren’t already shifting under their gaze. Volt didn’t let go. He gently tugged on you as both stood, Volt behind, and Eddie clear in front. You hesitated on leaving or staying, then you reached for Eddie—fingers grazing his arm—and his breath hitched audibly, shifting as his obvious hard-on was now left neglected uncomfortably. 

“Don’t be shy, Eddie,” Volt purred, watching for the both of you like a devil in silk. His hand curled lightly around your throat, thumb dragging along your pulse. “You’ve never thought about fucking this pretty thing senseless after hours?” His tone was sugar-sweet, at odds with his filthy words, and the sound went straight to your cunt. You whined—soft, shameful, involuntary—and your thighs instinctively pressed together. Volt laughed. “See? Eager little thing, aren’t you?” 

“Volt.” Eddie’s voice was hoarse—half a warning, half a plea. He was unraveling, jaw clenched, fists tight at his sides. But he didn’t move. Didn’t stop you. Volt's fingers drifted lower, down your collarbone, playing with the strap of your dress like a question. His brow arched, and you answered with a breathy moan. His mouth curved into something almost tender as he pulled the strap of your dress off your bare shoulder. 

His hands roamed, one arm wrapped around your waist; the other traveled slowly—reverently—as he laid a kiss at the curve of your neck and shoulder that made you shiver. You tipped your head back into him, breathing heavily. Your eyes flicked to Eddie. He was watching everything. Eyes black with want, lips parted, and when your legs spread a little further, his hand came up—rough, calloused—and trailed along the inside of your thigh. You gasped. Volt hummed behind you. 

“Such pretty fuckin’ noises,” Eddie growled, his grip on your thigh tightening as he forced your legs further apart. He looked down at you like he was starving. His fingers crept higher, knuckles teasing sensitive skin, and your breath hitched—your body instinctively pressing back against Volt’s chest. You were rewarded with a low groan when the curve of your ass rubbed against Volt’s erection, his lips dragging open-mouthed kisses along your shoulder, teeth grazing just enough to make your knees buckle. 

You stood caged between them, trembling—Eddie in front of you, Volt behind, like you’d wandered into a trap built just for you. Your mind fogged the moment Eddie’s knuckles brushed over the mound of your cunt, still clothed but throbbing with need. You gasped, spine arching slightly as he pressed down, just enough to make you feel it. He smirked. “So responsive, livewire.” 

“Eddie…” you whined, pouting up at him, eyes glassy with desperation. 

“Shh,” he murmured, all velvet and static, leaning in to brush his lips against yours. “It’s okay, sweetheart.” His nose nudged yours as he spoke, voice low and reverent, like he was giving you permission to fall apart. Then he slipped his hand between your thighs. Fingers curled under the seam of your panties, tugging them aside with maddening ease. And when his thumb pressed down on your clit—firm and deliberate—you moaned, loud and shameless. 

Eddie chuckled darkly. “There she is.” Volt’s breath ghosted against your ear, all static and heat. His hand was firm where it wrapped around your throat—not tight, but claiming. Possessive. His thumb stroked your pulse point lazily, like he was savoring it. 

Eddie, meanwhile, was crouched between your legs, breath hitching as he watched his own fingers disappear inside you, soaked and pulsing around him. His eyes were dark, hungry; lips parted like he was seconds from prayer or disaster—maybe both. “So fuckin’ wet,” he murmured, dragging his fingers out slow before pressing back in deeper, curling them just right. Your back arched against Volt’s chest with a choked cry. “She’s dripping,” he added, voice rough as gravel, gaze flicking up to you. “Feel that, Volt?” 

“I see it,” Volt growled, hand sliding down your front, fingers featherlight over your breasts, over your stomach, until they brushed Eddie’s wrist just as he pumped into you again. Volt’s hand joined his—two sets of fingers now—teasing; pushing. You shuddered, mouth falling open with a breathy moan as their touch combined—two long fingers rubbing your clit in circles, the other teasing the edge of your entrance. Volt leaned forward, lips pressed to your neck, and bit. Not hard—just enough to send lightning down your spine. “You gonna fall apart this easy?” He murmured against your skin. You nearly doubled over, your legs shaking as you felt Volt’s practiced fingers rub at you clit ceaselessly... you rolled your eyes back as you whined. Eddie chuckled sadistically as he pumped his fingers faster inside your aching cunt. 

“C’mon, baby,” Eddie growled, his fingers glistening with your slick as he pushed a third one inside you. You cried out—half a scream, half a moan—as your walls stretched wide around him, twitching from the sudden fullness. Volt took it as a cue, his pace quickening, rubbing tight circles over your clit with cruel precision. 

The white-haired man held you close, brow furrowed in focus as he watched every little shiver and twitch, the way you writhed helplessly in their hands. Wet sounds filled the room—obscene, slick, and rhythmic—punctuated by your ragged moans and gasps. You were completely undone, caught between the two of them, ruined and burning with need. 

“G-gonna c—cum! I’m gonna—please, please, please!” You babbled, voice trembling as your hand flew to Volt’s wrist, desperate to stop the relentless stimulation. But his grip was unyielding, firm, almost soothing in its dominance. Eddie’s fingers plunged deeper—knuckle-deep now—his other hand bracing your hip as he fucked into you with something just shy of mercy. 

Your back arched and your body seized, the tension finally snapping. You came with a cry, legs shaking violently as you squirted hard over their hands. It splashed onto your thighs, your dress—everywhere. “F-fuck, ‘s too much!” You whimpered, breath hitching as the pleasure bled into overstimulation. “Please—!” 

Eddie didn’t stop right away, but his pace slowed, fingers easing just enough to let you catch your breath. Volt’s touch softened too, thumb tracing gentle circles on your clit now, coaxing you through the aftershocks. You were trembling, soaked, and absolutely spent—but still wrapped in their arms, right where they wanted you. 

“Goddamn,” Volt hissed, watching the way your release slicked Eddie’s fingers, dripping down his knuckles like honey. His hand never left your throat—his touch gentle, possessive—like he needed to feel the pulse thundering beneath your skin to believe what they’d just pulled out of you. 

Eddie slowly drew his fingers out, soaked and trembling from how tightly you clenched around him. He brought them to his mouth without shame; eyes fixed on yours as he licked them clean—slow, deliberate. “Taste even better than I thought,” he muttered, voice like a growl caught in velvet. 

You whimpered, still panting, body twitching with aftershocks. But neither of them let you go. Volt’s hand left your throat only to tilt your chin back, eyes glowing with hunger and pride. “Did so good for us, livewire.” He murmured, kissing the corner of your mouth, then down your jaw. “Took it like a dream.” 

You barely had time to answer before you felt Eddie’s hands at the hem of your dress, tugging it up—slow, reverent. He kissed your thighs as he worked, worshipping every inch he could reach. His mouth pressed over your overstimulated cunt, and you jolted, gasping. “Eddie—wait, I-I can’t—” 

“Yes, you can.” Volt cut in, breath hot against your ear; his voice dipped in sin. “You’ll give us another one, won’t you? Pretty thing like you... you’re not done yet.” You cried out as Eddie’s tongue flicked over your clit—soft, teasing—only for him to moan when he tasted more of you. 

“Still so fuckin’ sweet,” he mumbled, already lapping at your folds again like he was starving. Your knees buckled, but Volt held you upright, strong arms locking around your waist like a harness. 

“You’re not going anywhere,” he purred, one hand kneading your breast, the other slipping between your legs to spread your soaked thighs wider for Eddie. “You're a big girl, you can take it.” Eddie’s tongue was ruthless—curling, sucking, fucking into you with a hunger that bordered on worship. It wasn’t long before the heat returned—sharp, unbearable. You sobbed as your head flung, shaking and delirious. All you could do was take them as they wished, thighs trembling uncontrollably as Eddie wrapped his arms around them to keep you in place. The second orgasm tore through you like lightning, your body jerking in Volt’s grip as you screamed, hands flying to tangle in Eddie’s hair, grinding helplessly against his mouth. 

“Fuck, fuck, fuck—” You sobbed as you gushed again, this time even harder, soaking Eddie’s face. He groaned like it only turned him on more, riding your high out with long, hungry strokes of his tongue. You slumped, boneless and wrecked, into Volt’s arms, trembling like a live wire still sparking at the ends. 

“Beautiful, my girl,” Volt murmured, lips brushing the crown of your head as he cradled you. His voice was warm—low and thick with pride—as your body trembled in his arms. “Took us so well. Fuck, you’re perfect.” You were still catching your breath, limbs limp and twitching, body marked with heat and devotion. Everything was hazy, but their hands—their hands—kept you grounded. 

Eddie stood above you, chest rising and falling in time with yours. His lips were swollen, chin glistening with your release, and his eyes—those dark, stormy eyes—looked down on you like he could barely believe you were real. He cupped your cheek, fingers calloused and careful, brushing away the wetness on your lashes with his thumb. “Still with us, sweetheart?” He asked, voice tender, like a promise tucked between the static of his usual growl. 

You nodded weakly, the movement barely moving there. “Y...Yeah, just—catching my breath,” you managed, your voice cracked and breathless. Your hands found Eddie’s shoulders instinctively, clinging to him even as Volt kept you wrapped tight in his arms—like you needed them both to hold you together. 

Volt chuckled, low and warm against your neck, the vibrations rumbling down your spine. “Then let’s take our time with you.” He kissed your shoulder, slow and reverent, his hands smoothing over your waist like you were something sacred. “We haven’t even started fucking you yet.” 

. . . 

It felt like hours had passed since Volt and Eddie started fucking you that solemn evening—though the concept of time had long since slipped through your fingers. Now you were bent over the bar, tits pressed to the cold wood, your entire body jolting forward with every brutal thrust. 

Your moans were ragged, broken things—torn straight from your throat as tears streaked down your cheeks. Your lips were parted, spit-slick and trembling as you sobbed for them, your voice dissolving into high-pitched whines beneath Eddie’s relentless pace. His cock drove so deep into your tight, overstimulated pussy that your legs threatened to buckle—but even when instinct told you to brace yourself against the bar, Volt wouldn’t let you. 

Oh no, he needed to see you like this. Sloppy. Boneless. Fucked dumb and twitching, your brain swimming in nothing but cock and static. 

You'd lost track of how many times they’d made you cum—your body limp, spasming, your pussy clenching around Eddie like it couldn’t decide if it was begging for more or mercy. Either way, they weren’t done. 

Volt leaned casually against the back wall, freshly mixing a cocktail like you weren’t being destroyed a few feet away. He hummed softly, sipping it with a smirk while Eddie grabbed your hips hard enough to bruise and rammed into your aching cunt with reckless rhythm. 

Then Volt moved—slow, deliberate—to the other side of the bar, just where you could see him through the tears blurring your vision. He leaned in close, holding the drink to your lips, smirk curling cruel yet fond. “Want a taste, livewire?” He asked, voice sweet as sin. 

You whimpered, barely able to nod. Your moan cracked as he tilted the glass gently, letting the drink pool on your tongue. It burned in your throat, a sharp contrast to the sweet ache between your thighs. A drop ran down your chin, sticky and slow. Volt wiped it with his thumb, dragging it over your lip before slipping it into your mouth. You sucked on it instinctively, eyes glassy, wide, and pleading when they met his. He cooed, tilting his head with mock sympathy. “Think she needs a break, Eddie?” 

But you both knew the answer. Your pussy had been wrecked—milked dry and stretched to its limit. You could feel the heat of their cum still leaking from you, proof of how many times they'd filled you, used you, ruined you. Eddie didn’t slow—his thrusts were ragged now, desperate, a growl ripping from his throat. “Fuck—this pussy’s s...strangling me,” he choked out. His voice was wrecked, words slurring into growls. “Don’t think I can—shit—don’t think I can stop.” 

You sobbed, shaking your head even as your body betrayed you—back arched, thighs trembling, hands scrabbling uselessly at the wood of the bar for purchase. “P-Please,” you hiccuped, unsure if you were begging them to stop or not to dare. 

Volt pouted dramatically, dragging his hand through your hair before giving it a gentle tug. “Aww, poor thing,” he crooned, voice all mock-pity and praise. “She’s falling apart on us, Eddie.” 

“Let’s break her the rest of the way, yeah?” Volt whispered, tongue flicking over the shell of your ear, and your whole body jolted like he’d hit a nerve. Eddie didn’t need convincing. 

He pulled out with a wet slap, your slick sliding down your thighs the second he did. You sobbed at the sudden emptiness, cunt clenching around nothing, still twitching with aftershocks. But you didn’t even get a chance to beg before Volt was behind you, flipping you onto your back against the bar like a ragdoll. The cold wood kissed your spine, nipples hardening against the air, body limp and glistening under the bar’s low amber lights. 

“Look at her,” Volt muttered, almost in awe. He chuckled darkly as his hand gripped her cheeks, your gaze hardly conscious. “Hardly with us.” Volt already had a fist wrapped around his cock—slick with your cum and spit—as he looked down at you, hungry. “Open up, sweetheart,” he cooed, voice low and intoxicating, fingers cradling your jaw with deceptive tenderness. “Wanna feel this pretty throat wrapped around me.” You obeyed with a whimper, lips parting as your tongue darted out—eager, aching. Volt groaned softly, the sound almost reverent, as he eased his cock between your lips. He didn’t force it. Not at first. 

He watched your lips stretch around him, eyes lidded, a sharp inhale hissing through his teeth. “Fuck… look at you,” he breathed. His palms pressed firm to the wood on either side of your head, caging you in as his hips began a slow, steady rhythm—thrusting downward into your mouth with deliberate precision. Each roll of his hips nudged deeper, his cock sliding over your tongue, past your gag reflex, until tears gathered at the corners of your eyes and drool began to spill from your lips. Volt was watching every second; lips parted, eyes dark, but fond—his composure unraveling inch by inch. 

“Doing so fuckin’ good for me,” he murmured, hips twitching as your throat fluttered around him. “Takin’ it so well... just a little longer, we promise.” Behind him, Eddie watched with hungry eyes, sitting back against the bar, one hand wrapped lazily around his cock. But it was your tits he was obsessed with—leaning forward just to slap them, firm and quick, watching them bounce as you choked on Volt’s cock. 

“Fucking look at this,” Eddie groaned, eyes glazed. “She’s a fuckin’ masterpiece.” You couldn’t respond—not with your mouth stuffed full and your throat being fucked slow and deep—but your body did—twitching, gasping, your hands digging into Volt’s hips as you moaned around his cock. 

Volt groaned above you, finally starting to lose the last of his restraint. His thrusts grew rougher, deeper—still controlled, still reverent, but now desperate. “Not gonna last long,” he panted, hips snapping harder. “Fuck, your throat’s so fuckin’ tight—‘m gonna cum—gonna cum down her pretty throat.” You choked out a garbled moan and nodded as best you could, lips swollen and soaked, your mascara running down your cheeks from the pressure and heat. 

Volt gave one last broken groan and buried himself deep, cock twitching as he spilled hot, thick ropes of cum straight down your throat. You swallowed instinctively, throat fluttering around him as he gasped your name through gritted teeth. He stayed there for a moment—still, trembling slightly—before finally pulling back. His cock slipped from your lips with a slick pop, and you collapsed back against the bar, dazed and dripping, mouth still open and breath coming in shallow, shattered pants. 

“Goddamn,” Volt muttered, brushing his thumb over your spit-slick lips, pride etched into every word. “You’re a dream, livewire.” 

Eddie stood, wiping sweat from his brow as he stepped around to admire the wreckage of you—limp, twitching, used. “Fucked her dumb,” he said, grinning. “Sweet thing.” 

Volt scooped you up gently, one arm cradling your back as the other brushed your ruined hair from your face. “That’s enough for tonight,” he said, kissing your forehead. “She needs rest.” 

“For a damn year.” Eddie muttered with a smirk. You giggled—soft, barely there. You were shaking, soaked, and thoroughly fucked out, but you still smiled as Volt carried you away from the bar, your head tucked into his chest. 

The lights of the club flickered again. Maybe it was the wiring. Maybe it was something else entirely. Or maybe it was just what happens when you burn out the breaker box.

.

.

.

rorichuu!

[eroscomet]

Cellmate Prisoner 516

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Pairing: Vi x Prisoner!Reader

Warnings: Mentions wounds and violence (I think that's all.)

Word count: 2.1k+

A/N: Hey, lovelies! So, recently I finished Arcane and I immediately got to writing after finishing it. I'm thinking of releasing a Cait fic as well but i'll see how this Vi fic does first. I hope you guys like this, and i'm not sure if anyone else has done this idea yet. Let me know if you guys would want me to continue releasing chapters for this fic! If this is your first time reading my work and enjoy it, there's more on my page! I'm sorry in advance for any probable mistakes.

Proof read.

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Days in Stillwater seemed to blend for the inmates, especially those who knew they’d never return to normal civilization. The inmates had created a community there in the prison. It was rare to see inmates fight, most who did were newer inmates who didn’t understand that everyone in there had long accepted their fates. They weren’t willing to fight after they’d come to terms with the fact that they were to be bound by the walls of the prison for life along with the others. Why hold a grudge, right?

However, the lack of fights didn’t mean total peace for the inmates at Stillwater. Enforcers were often the ones who'd steal that peace that inmates tried to keep. If anyone were mouthy for even a second, it’s a beating with the enforcers that they’d face for it. Most were driven to stray away from having fights with the enforcers. There's a saying that goes around, you become the uniform you wear, whether it’s a prisoner uniform or an enforcer uniform. 

That always stood, inmates knew their place and enforcers forced theirs. All but one inmate applied to this saying, inmate 516. The livewire, the undoing of the enforcers, the one with all the audacity. If not called inmate 516 by enforcers, most around the prison knew her as ‘Pink’, a name that she gained from the color of her hair. She had resilience, fight, a fire in her that never ceased. No matter how many times enforcers would beat her for her mouthy talk, it never stopped her.

She’d once roamed the prison on the higher levels where land and nature were still visible. Where the air she’d inhale was the same air as everyone else’s. The more she causes a commotion, however, the lower the level she’d be taken. She never stopped her ‘fuss’, so eventually she made it to the lower levels with the inmates who would never see the light of day or breathe fresh air from the outside. 

Constantly being placed in new areas of the prison, different levels, different blocks, different cellmates. Anything to piss enforcers off, she’d always thought ‘If they’re getting a kick out of my misery, I can at least get one as well’. She lived by that in prison. Her previous cellmate had complained so much about having her as a cellmate that enforcers had finally had enough and moved her to another cell.

This happened to be your cell. Tidy, an organized mess, if you will. You didn’t talk much to the other inmates, only when you’d require trading for different materials. You had a knack for the creation of all kinds, sketching, building, and mapping. Pink, however, had a knack for destroying of all kinds, kicking, punching, training for whatever it was that she’d often mutter angrily about.

“Great, now I'm paired with Mute here.” She groaned as enforcers pushed her into the cell before shutting it. People in the prison had created a nickname for you since you’d never bother to tell them, Mute, they called you for your lack of speech. Which was a choice for you, after realizing that if you’d stopped speaking, people would simply assume that you were mute and wouldn’t have to bother with other inmates.

When she was pushed into the cell, you had momentarily looked away from the sketch on the cell desk. Your eyes met hers, anger was all that you could see in the glint of her eyes. She had a lot of rage, for a reason that you did not know.

“Don’t stare at me like that.” She nearly spat as she looked at you. Your expression hadn’t faltered as well as your gaze on the pink-haired girl. 

“Whatever, at least this time I didn’t get paired with someone who can’t shut up.” She threw her pillow onto the empty cell bed before sitting on the edge of it. Your silence with the inmates at times caused a bit of a ruckus, not all were happy with the fact that you wouldn’t respond to their conversations or threats. Sometimes they resulted in a one-sided fight.

You never fought back, you felt no point in doing so as the inmates loved to bring along a friend or two to accompany them to their ‘fights’. They’d say they were teaching you a lesson by beating you up, a lesson you obviously never understood considering the fact that this often reoccurs with other inmates. You could feel her eyes examining your black eye as you returned your gaze to your sketch.

“Why do you let them do that to you?” Her voice seemed a bit softer and inquisitive as she spoke. You had paused for a moment before deciding to shrug and continue to sketch.

“Tch, why did I even bother asking?” Her words seemed more like a statement to herself than a question as she responded to your silent statement of shrugging, “That is exactly why, because you don’t speak. I can see how that makes people get all worked up.”

Her eyes averted from your black eye to the desk, watching your pencil move swiftly, “What’s this?” She asked curiously as she neared your desk, grabbing a gadget, you quickly swiped it out of her hands. She put her hands up in surrender as she saw you defensively hold the gadget to your chest.

“Hey, hey. I meant no harm, I was just asking.” She said with her hands still up. For a moment, you looked down at the gadget against your chest. You extended your hand and allowed Pink to examine the item. She recognized it as the headpiece of her little sister, Powder,’s grenades, the signature colorful drawings on the headpiece.

“Where did you get this?!” She asked, now with a bit of hostility. Your lack of response angered her as you extended your hand as if asking for the item back, and she quickly slapped it angrily. Your eyebrows shot up in surprise, you'd expect it from the other inmates, but Pink? With the way that she is with enforcers, it shouldn’t be surprising but it was. You held your hand with the other as you brought it to your chest, still feeling the stinging sensation.

“What do you know about this?!” She asked, her voice momentarily faltered, barely caught by even your own ears. The way that you seemed clueless to what she was saying, gave her the answer she needed. She scoffed as she tossed the headpiece of a flame chomper to you. You quickly caught it in your hands, safely putting it under your pillow away from Pink. 

“I’d get more out of talking to a wall.” She said with a scoff as she got into bed, shifting onto her side to face the wall.

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About two weeks passed since Pink had become your new cellmate. At first, she had been holding a grudge with you, giving you the silent treatment in return which you didn’t at all mind. You had always preferred silence. Eventually, she broke and began speaking to you, despite not hearing a word in return.

“I want to apologize for what happened a couple of weeks back..” She said as she continued punching the wall as she so often does, you’d taken note that this was a habit of hers to do every day. You’d gotten used to it quickly, assuming it was another ‘training’ thing of hers. 

“It’s just that I recognized that piece—the drawings. My little sister used to make gadgets and draw on them. Bombs, particularly.” She said as she paused her punching, staring at the wall as she spoke. This made you pause as well, the headpiece of the fire chomper in your hand. Your finger had been lightly caressing the cool metal, looking over your shoulder for a moment as Pink explained further.

“I guess it triggered something in me. I'm not a bad person, " she said as she caught your gaze.

You stood up, padding over to her and gently grabbing her hand. You opened her hand and placed the headpiece on her palm before moving her fingers to close around it. After the action, you sent her a small smile, to which she responded with a surprised look.

“You really don’t have to-” She began to speak before you had moved her hand to her chest. You gave her a nod, to which she finally understood. She nodded in return, understanding that you were giving her the item.

“Thank you..” She said quietly and hesitantly. You nodded once more as you returned to your desk. The two of you were silent for a moment before she put the item into her pocket and began punching the wall again. 

“Her name was Powder.” She said, speaking up after having punched the wall a few times. 

“I don’t know if she’s alive or not but what I do know is that when I get my first shot out of here, I'm going to find her. Or at least the man who took her from me.” Her voice was determined like she had thought about this many times.

“That man..took everything from me. He. Will. Pay.” She said a bit more aggressively now as she landed a harder punch on the wall. You winced at the sound, knowing that if it were you punching the wall like that, it would’ve hurt but Pink seemed to handle it like it was nothing.

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Time with Pink in your shared cell felt a little less tense than your first meeting with her. She had gotten a bit more comfortable and you knew that from the way that she’d open up a little every once in a while with stories of her past. She talked of her father, whom she seemed very fond of from the way she spoke of him, she talked of her sister Powder a lot, small stories of memories when the two were younger that warmed your heart.

You’d see that she was a lot more cooled down, with fewer fights with the guards as well as reduced ‘training’, she now seems to only punch the wall a couple of days a week. Everything seemed fine until a new inmate arrived, a man who was bald with many tattoos that seemed to run through his entire body. You’d heard the news that Pink had beaten him up with a tray during dinner, breaking his jaw. When returning to your cell, she was smug but also seemed bothered by the situation.

She muttered to herself as she sat on the edge of her cell’s bed, “A week without leaving the cell, that’s what they gave me.” She said as she looked at you, her gaze was hardened. Your jaw is slightly clenched with a bit of worry for the girl.

“No meals, nothing. That prick deserved what was coming to him. He knew it from the look in his eye when he saw me.” She muttered with a scoff.

One of the perks about trading often with the cook at Stillwater meant special treatment. Often the cook gave you a bit of a better meal or something for dessert. For the next three days, you had snuck food back into your cell for Pink to eat.

“How’d you get this brownie anyway?” She asked with her mouth stuffed, you shrugged it off to no surprise.

“Any news on bald guy?” You shook your head in reply to her question. “Good, I hope to hear not a peep out of him after that.”

There it was again, the rage in her eye you had seen when she first came into your cell. She was angry again, more now that this man was in Stillwater. But you couldn’t figure out why.

“He’s a part of Silco’s henchmen. Dirty rat finally got caught.” She said with a scoff as she continued to eat. You hesitantly placed your hand on her shoulder, she looked up at you with surprise. She sighed as she paused, once again allowing her shoulders to no longer be tensed.

“Yeah, I know. He just..ticks me off.” You simply nodded to her words in understanding before gently patting her shoulder. 

“Thanks anyway, for the food or whatever..” She mumbled as she continued to eat, you smiled softly before heading to your desk as you usually do. A bit of silence came over the two of you before she spoke.

“Do you like that they call you Mute here?”

You paused for a moment as you shook your head.

“Then why do you..not talk?”

You seemed to be in thought as you shrugged again.

“I'm not trying to be mean but maybe people would get off your case if you spoke. Can you even speak at all?” To which you nodded to her words, she only took a moment to examine your face which had healed from the black eye she first saw you with.

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A/N: Guys, let me know what you guys think. If you guys want me to make this a series or not, if it is, it might be a little bit of a slow burn, I will include the other characters later on as well. Thank you so much for reading, new readers can check out my works on my page. Everyone is welcome to request stuff as well!