#rips hair out rips hair out rips hair out

[mermaidgirl30]

✨Her Bodyguard, His Shining Star✨

Bodyguard! Joel Miller x singer fem! reader

A/N: I do not know what came over me, but this was heavily inspired after watching Sabrina Carpenter’s “Espresso” Coachella performance. This one shot took over my whole Saturday and Sunday! Thank you to @mountainsandmayhem for helping me with a title and the mood board and for being my beta! 🩷 This is both in Joel and reader’s POV. Comments and reblogs make my day. Enjoy, lovelies!

Summary: You’re performing at Coachella, throwing winks and flirting with your eyes as Joel Miller watches you from the side of the stage. He’s your bodyguard, and he should know better, but he wants you just as much as you want him.

Word Count: 8.1k

Rating: 18+ Only MDNI

Tags: Fluff, flirting, pining, oral (female receiving), dirty talk, cute pet names, unprotected p in v, switching POVs, reader is a singer, Joel is a bodyguard, reader has long hair, large age gap (reader is 25, Joel is 44)

Dividers by @saradika-graphics

The warm sun glows against your glittering skin, the music pumping like sugary coffee running through your veins. The crowd chants along with you, singing every lyric you do while they hold their phones and snap videos while you twirl around to the rhythm of the upbeat song. You flash them big smiles, pose for the camera, sway your hips while your dancers match your cute little moves. You’re exhausted, almost done with your set at Coachella, but the flaming energy of the crowd keeps you going. 

   You spin around, pop your hip out and wave flirtatiously to Joel at the end of the stairs on the side stage. He shakes his head, chuckling to himself while he tries to act professional. That’s what bodyguards do, right? Stay professional? And he did, he really did, but you liked to tease him just a bit sometimes, get him all riled up if you could. 

   You see the smug smirk he tries to hide behind that patchy, greying scruff, watch the way those gorgeous honey flecked eyes scan your body. He can try to be coy all he wants, but you’ll call him on his bluff. The man is attracted to you, just like you are to him. But you can’t help it, he’s drop dead gorgeous. The way his grey threaded dark curls catch the sun rays, his ripped muscles cling to the flannels and tight t-shirts he wears on a daily basis, his corded veins spiral down his tanned arms, the way he towers over you every time he stands next to you, his deep Southern drawl that sends you into heat every time he graces you with that thick honey-like voice, and the way he’s so protective over you. But you also can’t forget that he's twice your age, which makes him even hotter. 

   You shouldn’t want it, want him, but you do. God, you do. At night when you’re in between your silky sheets with your fingers rubbing between your legs, you’re thinking of him. Those big, meaty hands, that rough tongue, his deep, gravelly voice that must sound so sweet filled with dirty words. You can’t help yourself, you want Joel Miller, your bodyguard. 

   He watches you strut the lit up stage, the sparkles on your pink dress catching the flecks of his wandering eyes. He thinks you look so gorgeous twirling around in that short tease of a dress. Every time you bend over or spin around, he can see those skimpy short shorts that barely cover the globes of your ass. You like the attention though, love to tease the crowd just like you’re teasing him now. 

   He sees the discrete winks you throw his way on the stage, the way you lick those plump, glossy lips that seem to call directly to him. You’re trying to get a reaction out of him. He knows you too well. You may be flirting with the starving crowd who begs for more, but you’re also flirting with him. And he can’t help but get drawn into those beautiful eyes of yours that glisten in the sunlight, can’t help the way his cock is straining against the zipper of his denim jeans right now, precum spilling over the tip thinking about thrusting between those pretty legs of yours. He wants you so fucking badly, and you have no idea.

   You twirl your curls flirtatiously around your finger, flipping your hair behind your shoulders while he watches from the corner of the stage, pretending like that’s his hand wrapped around your flowing locks. Another wink his way and he’s mush against the edge of the stage. Maybe you are trying to get a reaction out of him, you just love to tease him, but he loves it just the same. You’re nothing but a little troublemaker.

   He thinks about you all the time on those lonely nights on long tours, when he’s under his pristine sheets that graze against his hardening cock. He whispers your name under his breath when he’s stroking himself, pretending his hand is yours gliding over him, spreading precum with your soft hands, your pretty mouth. And when he cums he thinks of your glittering eyes, imagines you encouraging him on while he spills hot ropes of cum all over his soft tummy. 

   He may feel a little guilty after doing that, those dirty thoughts that swirl in his head night after night, but there’s no way in hell he feels bad about doing it. He’d have you every day if it was up to him. Oh, yes. He’d ravage your body till you had nothing left to give but your own breath that blows gently against his hungry lips. Damned if he does, and damned if he doesn’t. Either way he’s completely fucked. 

   The end of your routine is drawing close, the last number halfway over while the sun kisses your tanned skin. He knows you’re tired, can see it in the sweat that glistens like diamonds down your dainty arms. He’d go and scoop you up in his arms, let you wrap your own around his neck while he carried you to safety, away from prying vultures in the crowd, but he knows paparazzi would snap those pictures in a heartbeat and cause a scene in the tabloids. The pop princess and bodyguard have a scandalous affair at Coachella together. He scoffs at the thought. Fucking idiots starving for a shiny penny to add to their useless names. 

   The moment you sing your last line, you wave to the crowd and blow kisses to the rowdy audience. “Thank you, Coachella! See you next year!” They chant your name, begging for one more song, but your time is up. So you exit the stage all smiles with glitter falling to the ground, keeping your glow until you get to the edge of the stage. 

   Joel’s right there waiting for you, a water bottle and small towel in hand, just like he always does. He looks so good in his tight black t-shirt, sleeves pulling at his bulging biceps while his dark jeans hug his meaty thighs tightly. He always looks so good that you feel dizzy when he takes your hand and helps you down the stairs and off the buzzing stage. 

   Your breath catches in your throat when he closes his thick, calloused fingers over yours, his honey eyes bright and alert when he hands you the water bottle and dabs your sweaty forehead with the soft towel. You could melt into a puddle right here and now the way he’s looking at you all protective and warm-like. 

   “You really gave them a show today, darlin’,” he drawls as his dark flecks of warmth serenade you with attention.

   “Yeah, you think so?” 

   “Mhm,” he hums, staying attentive to you while he watches you take a sip of water. 

   “Did I give you a show, too?” you ask all flirtatiously, batting your long eyelashes up at him as you slide your tongue slowly over your glossy lips, licking off a droplet of water. 

   His cheeks grow red, eyebrows fusing together as he shakes his head and runs a large hand slowly through those messy curls you so want to run your own fingers through. “C’mon, trouble. Let’s jus’ get you back to the trailer.” He grabs your elbow and drags you through the winding backstage area, dodging cords and other performers that stand in your way.

   You follow next to him, quick to stay on his trail while fans scream from the right behind barricades when they see you. Joel pushes you to the left, lingering his large hands on you just a few seconds too long while he works to keep you safe. You know it’s his job, but it turns you on at the sight of him watching out for you, keeping a hand firmly on your arm, making sure no one else touches you but him. 

   Maybe it’s a lovesick fantasy, a fever dream that you and Joel could be more than this. More than just a bodyguard who’s just doing his job to watch out for you. You feel it, that sexual chemistry when you’re near each other, even in a large crowd that won’t stop screaming your name, demanding pictures and autographs while he pushes them away from your reach. You feel it in his heated stare, the brush of his calloused fingertips on your tanned skin, the devilish smirk he gives you when you tease him or say something you shouldn’t. You know he feels it, too. He has to. He’s just as delusional and lovesick as you. You see it in the glow of those amber eyes. He knows.

   “So, you have a free night tonight, huh?” you ask as you keep your fingers curled around the soft fabric of his t-shirt. 

   “Sure, if you call keepin’ you out of trouble free time,” he chuckles, his brown eyes gazing back toward you, just enough to paint streaks of dark pink over your already blush caked cheeks. 

   “Me, trouble? Never,” you tease while you flash him a bright smile. 

   “Oh, you’re trouble alright. But you’re not the one I’m worried about. These Coachella fans can get pretty intense. I’d jus’ feel better if I was watchin’ out for you is all.”

   “You don’t want a night off though?”

   He looks back toward you and knits his eyebrows together, concern lathered all in those brown doe eyes of his. It makes you weak in the knees. “I’m alright. Besides, you’re not bad company to have.” He nudges you with his elbow and winks your way, completely knocking the breath from you. 

   Did Joel Miller just say you were good company? A quiet, reserved guy like him likes your company? The one that would rather grab a drink at the bar alone and sit in silence with a good book while no one bothers him? Guess you did have an affect on him afterall. 

   “Not bad company?” you giggle as you push against his shoulder. 

   “Not bad at all, darlin’. You’re jus’ the kind I need,” he says with a hidden smirk under that salt-and-pepper scruff you want to drag your fingers through. Yeah, you’re just what he needs.

   Suddenly, a screaming fan comes from your left, some psycho that escaped through the wrought iron fence who stomps your way. He charges over to you, calling your name as his spindly fingers close over your arm, his other hand clawing at your pink sparkly dress. “Let me take a picture, please! I love you, I drove hours just to see you sing. Please!”

   Joel rips the guy's hands off your body, pinning his hands behind his back against a caged off area while you fight to catch your breath. Your heart thunders in your chest watching Joel being so protective, possessive over you while the fan begs for mercy against Joel’s tight grip. 

   “Keep your fuckin’ filthy hands off of her! She’s not a toy you can just grab and demand things from. She didn’t give you permission, didn’t ask for you to claw at her dress. So I suggest you walk back out to the general admission area and stay the fuck away from her. Understood?!” His voice sounds like crackling thunder, that deep rugged breath towering over the cowering fan as he makes red marks over the fan’s useless wrists. Joel was just doing his job, one he was damn good at. But he made it look so sexy. 

   You stare in amazement, blinking through your thick lashes while you watch Joel shove the crazed fan through the fence, warning him to keep his distance or else he’ll wish he never stepped foot into the music festival. You gawk at him, watching the way his muscles flex underneath his t-shirt, watching the scowl across his mouth darken his menacing eyes. He’s a dominant wolf protecting his pack, and his pack is you. 

   You watch his flared nostrils and harsh eyes soften when he turns and looks at you, one of his large hands coming to clasp around your wrist while he assesses your wide-eyed features. “You okay?”

   You nod your head slowly, keeping your gaze on him as he makes sure you’re alright. “Really, I’m fine, Joel. Thank you.”

   Before he can manage a reply back to you, blinding cameras start flashing before your eyes, paparazzi swarming you as they just assessed the scene. They throw questions at you, screaming your name while you try to drown out their echoing voices. 

   You stick like glue to Joel’s side, latching your arms around his strong torso while you hide your face in his t-shirt beneath his shoulder. Joel wraps a protective arm around your back and guides you to safety. 

   “Get back! She ain’t answerin’ questions right now, she jus’ got off the stage. Leave her alone!” His deep voice hounds them, barking strict orders for them to stay back. 

   You’re so thankful for Joel right now, your knight in shining armor steering you to safety. The blinding lights start to slowly fade away, the reaching hands and firm demands slipping away once you enter the safe vicinity of your tour trailer. 

   Joel unfolds you from his safe grasp, turns you around and places one hand gently under your chin as if to say it’s okay, baby girl. They’re gone. He scans your frightened eyes, but you melt into a relaxed state when he looks at you with those concerned honey eyes that swallow you whole. 

   “You sure you’re alright?” he asks with eyebrows furrowed together in a panicked state. 

   “I am now. Thanks for saving me. You’re my hero,” you smile as he lets out a sigh of relief and shakes his head. 

   “Jus’ doin’ my job, sweetheart. Can’t help it that everyone wants a piece of you. Gotta protect the shining star,” he winks, nearly sending you over the edge of the steps to your trailer. 

   “Well, you’re pretty great at your job, Miller. Best bodyguard ever,” you flirt as you poke him playfully in the chest. 

   “Alright, little pop star. Why don’t you go relax for a bit? I’ll be out here, be sure to fight off any more paparazzi parasites,” he smiles while he watches you twist the handle and enter your safe haven. 

   “Joel?” you call before you close the door. 

   “Hmm?” he asks as he twists around and faces you with gentle brown eyes. 

   “Go easy on them.”

   He just rolls his eyes and shakes his tousled curls off his sweaty forehead. “Sure thing, darlin’. Alright now, go on. Get in there,” he instructs as he nods to your room. 

   You huff out and slump your shoulders, pretending like it’s the biggest chore in the world. He ticks his jaw and raises an eyebrow at you that tells you he’s not messing around, so you fully oblige his request. “Alright, alright. I’m going,” you sigh. 

   “Attagirl,” he chuckles. 

   Your cheeks burn red as he leaves you with the hottest word before you close the door with a jolt. Attagirl. The word rushes through you, straight to your core where you feel a bit of slick build against your sticky lace. How can a man get you turned on with just one word? Well, it’s Joel Miller, and the man can make you wet with the wink of those pretty brown eyes, but Attagirl was next level. It was borderline porn to your ears. 

   When you hear the click of the door close you take a second to breathe, leaning up against the sealed door while you flick the lights on and try to calm your racing nerves. You assess your pristine room, taking in the white walls hung with pink fairy lights. The glow from your vanity mirror lights up the little corner where your sparkly makeup sits neatly together. The pink velvet sectional sits up against the middle of the wall where a picture of Marilyn Monroe hangs right above that. Soft pink colors cover the room, and you feel suddenly at ease in the protection of your trailer. 

   You meander toward the vanity mirror, assessing your perfect makeup that still stays intact on your glowing face. The sparkling pink eyeshadow mixes in with the sharp wings of black eyeliner that frames your soft eyes. Shimmery pink lip gloss coats your plump lips, and the blush stands out against your tanned skin. Your spiral curls flow gently over your shoulders, and your sparkly dress hugs all your curves in the right places. 

   You suddenly want to be free of your costume, wanting to throw on a pair of cutoff jean shorts and an oversized t-shirt. When you turn your back to the mirror and try to unzip your dress, it gets stuck just a couple inches from the top. 

   “Oh, come on. Work with me.” You fight the zipper again, tugging with all your might until you grit your teeth together and curse under your breath. This is not what you need right now. You want out of this dress, out of these high heels, out of these smothering tights. 

   You stomp your heel into the plush carpet, folding your arms across your cleavage as you decipher just what to do. Lacy, your assistant, is tied up in important meetings for the rest of the afternoon. She’s nowhere near your little trailer. Your makeup artist is busy helping other performers, so you have no other options. Joel is the only one…

   You gulp, take a long look at your flushed cheeks just thinking of having Joel Miller unzip your dress. It’s harmless, really, but not if he’s doing it. That would only lead to one thing. Giving into pure desire, temptation, need. 

   “Fuck it,” you whisper to yourself, “if a show is what he wants, then a show is what he’ll get.”

   You tiptoe to the door, hovering your hand over the handle as you take a deep breath and breathe in and out slowly. It’s just a zipper, only a zipper. He could always say no, leave you stranded while you’re stuck in your dress the entire evening. He wouldn’t do that though, leave you helpless while you fight to rip the tight dress off your body. He just wouldn’t allow that. No way. 

   You take one more deep breath and open the door slowly, slipping your head out as you see Joel standing at the bottom of your trailer steps. You clear your throat and watch him turn his head quickly in your direction, leaving his guard wide open as he assesses your distressed face. “Umm, Joel. Can you do me a favor?”

   His eyebrows knit together while his eyes glaze over your body. “What is it, darlin’?” His doe eyes lean into yours, and you can barely muster up any words while he looks at you like that, all caring and deep. 

   “Well, my zipper got stuck in the back, and I can’t get it down. Do you think you can help?” you ask shyly, your eyes looking up nervously through your long lashes. 

   “Uhh, where’s Lacy? I can go grab her, let her help ya out.”

   “No!” You reach out an arm and grab his wrist tightly, watching his brown eyes widen at your sudden contact on his tanned skin. 

   “No?” he asks confused, his breath picking up underneath his dark t-shirt. 

   “I mean, she’s in meetings for the rest of the afternoon. She’s nowhere near the trailer. And I’m awfully uncomfortable in this tight dress. Do you think you can just come in really quick and help?”

   He gulps down a breath, his heartbeat picking up incredibly fast while he looks into your gorgeous eyes. How can he say no to that? He can’t, so he won’t. He rakes a hand slowly through his greying scruff and nods your way. 

   “‘Course I’ll help, sweetheart. C’mon then.” He places a hand gently on your lower back and leads you into the glowing lights of the trailer, letting the door close with a bang as he guides you to the middle of the room. 

   “Turn around for me, sweetheart,” he asks nicely as you oblige and turn your back toward him. 

   He looks at your undone zipper, sees where it’s stuck in the pink fabric of the dress. Of course he’d be the only one around to help you, of all things a fucking stuck zipper on you. He has no resistance when it comes to you, he just can’t say no to that pretty face of yours. 

   “Zipper’s jus’ caught in the fabric. Should just take a little tugging,” he says with gritted teeth, pulling on the zipper while he holds the silky fabric tight with his other hand. 

   After a few seconds of fighting the dress, he gets it free of the catching fabric. He slowly unzips the back of your sparkling dress, going ever so slowly as if not to make a single sound. The only sounds he hears are your quick breaths, the beating of his own racing heart, and the noise of tugging you free of the suffocating, tight dress. 

   He watches it stop at the end of your curvy hips, catching the way your skin seems to shimmer as your flawless skin comes into his line of vision. He sees the way the dress falls open in the back, your skin begging to be touched, to be stroked as it beckons him closer and closer until he’s hovering above your hot skin. 

   He knows he shouldn’t linger, shouldn’t hover over the glow of your exposed skin, but it’s almost sinful not to touch you when the glitter of your undertones calls directly to him. He gives in, stealing just a touch as he rubs his fingers slowly down your spine. 

   You squirm beneath his touch, tingling sensations running wildly down your skin with each touch he takes from you. You ravish in it, holding your breath while he takes his time dipping across the curve of your back. 

   He leans into you, ghosting his lips across your neckline while he breathes you in deep. He smells the vanilla scent of your perfume, lilac breezing through your soft curls, and can even smell the cherry flavor of your glittery lip gloss. You must taste so good, he can already feel your soft lips against his while he takes his other hand and moves your curls over the left side of your shoulder. 

   You turn your head back gradually, exposing the veins in your slender neck while it gives him access to dip his lips against the curve of your neck. “Joel,” you whisper out, your insides shaking as the hand on your back sinks down to the curve of your hip. 

   He can’t respond, too lost in your delicious scent while his hand dances against the silk of your tempting skin. He’s a bad man, putting himself in this vulnerable position where he’s alone with you, with your zipper completely down and your dress barely holding itself against your perfect body. 

   He should go back outside, stay away from your midnight eyes, your luscious locks, your sweet smelling perfume, but he can’t. He just can’t. He’d rather die than to leave you alone now, untouched, not taken care of. He’s your bodyguard, he’s paid to take care of you. So he will, in every way that he can. He’ll have his way with you. If your zipper can be fixed then who's to say that ache between your legs can’t, too? 

   He spins you around, your chest pressed flush against his while he slowly backs you up against the wall, caging you in with his strong arms while he breathes in your sweet vanilla scent that drives him wild. He sees the cleavage practically spilling from the top of your undone dress, wants to fucking rip it to shreds until there’s nothing left but your glowing skin under the tips of his pressing fingers. 

   He takes a hand and pushes back a strand of curls behind your ear, lingering his thick fingers along your jawline while you breathe in the woodsy mahogany smell, his expensive cologne that you could lather yourself in just to smell like him. He’s so close that he could lean down and press his lips to yours, so close that you could twist your fingers through those lush curls that you so desperately want to meld your fingers to. 

   You’ve never been this close to him before, to where you can see just how pretty and clear his brown flecked eyes are. You’re driving yourself into dangerous territory, but you don’t care. No one’s here to stop you from making any mistakes, and Joel is not a mistake.

   He hovers over you, dragging his lips against your jawline and stopping at the shell of your ear, lingering there while his meaty hands dig into the curve of your hips. “We shouldn’t… I shouldn’t,” he says with gritted teeth, painfully dragging out the words while he tickles the shell of your ear with his plush lips. 

   “Why not?” you whine pathetically as you place a hand under his shirt, making him jump while you graze over the happy trail that leads underneath his jeans. It makes a deep groan slip from his throat. 

   “I’m twice your age. You jus’ turned twenty-five, I’m pushing forty-five. I’m your bodyguard. I should be more respectful, shouldn’t give in to a pretty thing like you,” he murmurs as he feels his cock hardening beneath the denim of his jeans. 

   “I don’t care that you’re older or that you’re my bodyguard,” you mumble as your fingers tug the leather belt free from his jeans. 

   He groans, licking the edge of your ear while he fights to find an ounce of control in his desperate body. He finds none. “We shouldn’t, darlin’. It’d be irresponsible on my part. What if the paparazzi found out? They’d turn the headlines into a hell of a mess. Hell, your publicist would kill me,” he says defeatedly while his hands stay glued to your hips. 

   “I don’t care what my publicist says, I don’t care about the paparazzi. I know what I want, Joel. I know you want it, too. Just as much as I do.”

   He groans against you, doing his best to resist you, but he can’t. He’s a weak man for you, and he’ll give in with the snap of your fingers. He’s got no fight left in him, he’s all yours. “Are you sure, sweetheart? You want this? Want me?”

   You grip tighter to his jeans, dragging his hips flush against yours as you feel the swell of his cock through the denim. He’s so fucking big, and you haven’t even seen him yet. “Yes, Joel. Please. Want you, only you,” you stifle out a moan as his lips trail against your neck, gently nipping and sucking against your sensitive areas while his hands ghost over the curve of your breasts. 

   “God, I can’t say no to you, gorgeous. You don’t even know what you do to me every time I see you up on that stage, singin’ with that angelic voice of yours, dancin’ around all flirtatiously while you make me so fuckin’ hard beneath my jeans.”

   You groan at his filthy words, letting him spread your legs while one of his parts your legs wider. One hand trailing up your inner thigh while his other slowly pulls against the top of your pink dress. “You don’t know how badly I’ve wanted to do this for so long, how much I’ve wanted to press my face between those thick thighs of yours,” he groans as he trails his lips against the cleavage of your dress. 

   “Probably just as long as I’ve wanted you to,” you pant out as he tugs at the hem of your dress. 

   “Yeah, s’that right?” he teases, dragging his teeth lower down your breasts. 

   “Mhm. Joel, fuck. Taste me, touch me, fuck me,” you beg as you wrap your arms around his neck. 

   “Fuck you, hmm? That what you want?” he teases while he slowly pulls your dress free, hearing it drop to the floor when all you’re left in is your shorts and tights. 

   “Yes, please. Want you, need you to touch me. Do it, Joel. Please,” you whine, twisting your fingers around the curls around the base of his neck.

   He chuckles out, sucking in a breath as he fully obliges your request. “Alright, pretty pop star. If that’s what you want, how can I say no to you?”

   He leaves you with no warning, cupping one breast in his large palm while he sucks on your other one, running his tongue in circles until your nipples are pebbled and swollen beneath his tongue, his mouth, his hands. He does the same to the other one, languidly sliding his tongue over the pebbled bud while he massages your breasts with his calloused fingers. 

   He bathes in your moans, making certain to get you all worked up where he knows you’re already soaking beneath your panties. That’s where he wants you wet, begging for him to touch you. 

   “Joel,” you whine, feeling his fingers fall free from your pebbled breasts. 

   “I know, baby. I know. Don’t worry, gonna take care of my girl.”

   Before you can speak, he cups your face and sinks his plush lips against the gloss of yours, melding his mouth to yours while he tastes the cherry flavor of your lip gloss. You part your lips for him, inviting him in as you feel him lick feverishly into your mouth. Your tongues dance together in unison, allowing him to tangle his with yours while he revels in your pretty moans against his hungry mouth. He’s starving for you, absolutely famished while he takes and takes from you, letting his tongue explore the entirety of your open mouth. If you taste this good, just think how absolutely divine you must be between your legs.

   His hands roam down to your shorts, slipping his fingers inside the waistband and tugging them free of your skin. You step out of your high heels, kick the pink shorts aside and allow his mouth to break free of yours. You pant tirelessly, watching him kneel between your legs as he starts to run his fingers up and down your thighs. 

   He looks up at you, his eyes becoming dark pits that consume him whole. He’s feral for you, and he won’t stop till he has every last drop from you. “You have another pair of these?” he asks, nodding to your tights. 

   “I’ve got a million pairs,” you say out of breath. 

   He smirks up at you before he tears into the flesh of your tights, ripping them to shreds while one of his large hands meets the lace of your panties. “What about these, hmm? Gonna miss these?”

   You shake your head, unable to get a word out as you swallow a whine in the back of your throat. “No?” he asks all deep and gravelly while his thumb traces against the edge of your lace, sliding down to put some pressure between your drenched lips. 

   You throw your head back and whine, begging him to continue on. “No, Joel. Just take them off, please. Need you,” you breathe out desperately. 

   “That’s all you had to say, sweetheart.” He takes no time, ripping into the seam of your panties as you watch him split them in half, throwing them in a pile on the floor while his eyes blow wide when he takes in the bare sight of you. 

   He groans to himself, dragging a finger through your wet arousal, parting you in the middle as he hears the sloshing sounds come from his thumb spreading the wetness all across your dripping core. He inhales you, reveling in the pretty noises you make while he takes his time exploring you, gathering the slick on his calloused fingers as he burns the sight of your messy pussy in the back of his brain. 

   “Shit, baby. Already so fuckin’ wet for me. This what I do to you, hmm? You always this wet around me?”

   “Mhm,” you moan, feeling his fingers pull you apart as more slick pools between your thighs. 

   “All this for me, goddamn. Ain’t I jus’ the luckiest man alive.” He licks a thick stripe up your core, dragging his tongue to lap up the slick that spills from your insides, making you pant out with need as he makes you come undone. “Don’t worry, baby. Gonna take real good care of this pretty pink pussy. Just sit back, relax, and let me do all the work.”

   He doesn’t even give you a chance to breathe, he just dives right in. He takes the flat of his tongue and strokes your folds, working you up and down while he soaks in the sweet taste of you. He hooks one of your pliant legs over his shoulder while you fight to not break already. 

   He drags his nose through the curls above your mound, sucking your swollen clit into his mouth while he breathes in the sensational musk of your pussy, drinking down your sticky arousal that makes his taste buds come to life. He’s never tasted a pussy this sweet before in his life, never quite experienced the high of such an intoxicating body before. He’s wanted you for so long now, and he never even imagined it’d be this good before. 

   “Joel,” you moan above him, wrapping your delicate fingers through his messy curls, driving out a deep groan from him by the way you cling to him. He loves the feel of you in his hair, pulling and tugging while you bite your lower lip and moan his name over and over again. It’s like an addictive drug he’s prescribed to, and he needs more, wants more of you. 

   He slips two digits into your drenched hole, filling you so full while his thick fingers curl and hit that spongy area that makes you see bright lights flash before your eyes. He revels in your moans, eliciting more with every touch and curl of his fingers, with every feverish lick to your messy center. 

   “Yeah? You like that, baby? Feel good?” Joel purrs while he watches you fall apart beneath his fingers. 

   “So good, Joel. Want you to - ahhh,” you whine as he pulls your aching bundle of nerves back into his warm mouth, releasing it with a pop as more slick covers his knuckles. 

   “Mmm, s’that right, sweetheart? Gonna cum for me? C’mon baby girl, go on and soak me,” he purrs. 

   You feel the white hot sensation taking over, feel his long fingers curl up to hit that spot again and again while he pulls your aching clit back into his mouth. And it feels so fucking good that you just can’t hold on any longer. “Joel, I’m gonna… fuck, I’m coming,” you whine as you release your pent up energy, soaking his knuckles while he works you nice and slow, licking at your core as the slick builds on his tongue, drinking you down till he soothes that aching need in his throat. 

   You come down slowly, feeling your body go through the tingling sensations that make you feel so alive. You’ve never had it this good before, not before Joel. He’s going to be the end of your demise. 

   You look down at him between your legs, fingers still curled inside your core while he slowly drags them out of you with a groan from your lips. He pops the digits into his mouth, sucking the sweet release while he moans your name. He looks fucking wrecked, his hair all tousled and messy, wide eyes blown out to black pits that want to devour you whole. The way he’s looking at you makes you think he’s not done with you, and he’s not. Oh no, he’s just getting started. 

   “Such a good girl for me,” he purrs, sliding his calloused fingers up to your hips while he unhooks your leg from his shoulder. “I’m not done with you yet, baby. Now, c’mere.”

   He throws you over his shoulder, a surprised gasp coming from your lips as he takes you over to the velvet couch. He drops you on your hands and knees, not giving you a moment to breathe while he situates himself behind you and spreads your legs wide. 

   He takes a few seconds to admire your glistening core, sitting back on his heels as he rakes a hand slowly over his greying scruff, taking in the absolute beauty that sits before him. He’s never seen a sight like this that he goes head over heels for, sliding his tongue between his teeth as he whispers how fucking perfect you are.

   He groans your name, dragging his thumb up and down your sticky folds while one hand spreads your cheeks wide. He says your name repeatedly, taking in the sight of you in front of him. He thinks you’re so fucking pretty, all messy and dripping just for him. He wants to just slip your scent, your taste into his own cologne, mix the two together until he can only smell you on his body. 

   He licks at your core, spreading you wide while he devours you whole. He pulls at your glistening clit, languidly circling the swollen bud that calls sinfully to him. He wants to give you all the orgasms, drink you down till you have nothing left to give, curl his fingers inside your heated core, work you over till the only thing you can say is his name through your pretty moans. 

   He thrives in the musk of you, the taste of your cherry lips, the sweet saltiness of your warm cum. If he could give it a name, he’d call you his special jasmine flower, known to be the sweetest, most fragrant flower in the world. That’s what you are to him. The rarest flower that ever came into his reach, his life. 

   He licks against your slick folds, working his fingers in and out of your delicious cunt, slurping on your sensitive mound while he drowns it in his own drool, lusting after you until you writhe beneath him and give him another mind blowing orgasm. 

   “Joel, I’m coming, I’m coming,” you cry, spilling yourself all over his digits and inside his heated mouth. He can’t reply, too busy drinking you down as he groans good girl through the taste of you on his large tongue. 

   He swallows all the slick between your thighs, holding you up together while your legs shake uncontrollably. You may have fallen apart on his tongue twice, but he still wants more. He’s greedy like that when something belongs to him. You’re his as far as he’s concerned now, and he always takes care of what’s his. 

   “Joel, wanna… wanna…” you stutter tirelessly, out of breath from the insane orgasm he pulled from your body. 

   “What do ya need, sweetheart? Use your words,” he coaxes, placing a hand gently at the small of your back as he strokes small circles into the heat of your skin.

   “Your cock. Let me suck your cock, make you feel good, too,” you whine out, grinding your teeth together as he gently blows on your aching core. 

   “Not this time, baby. Later. Gotta take care of you first. This time I wanna have my way with you, want your cum dripping down my tongue, making my cock all messy from your sweet release. Wanna bottle you up and make you my own personal brand of whiskey,” he growls as he pulls his t-shirt over his head and frantically slides his jeans and boxers over his feet, disposing the sweaty material on the ground. 

   He hisses as he spreads the precum over his shaft, pumping himself a couple times before he grabs your hips and scoots you back, stifling a moan from your mouth as he plunges his massive cock into your throbbing pussy. 

   “Oh, shit. Joel,” you whine, filling the room with your sweet incantations while he fills you so full of him. 

   “Yeah? You like that, dirty girl? Takin’ this cock so good, squeezin’ me so fuckin’ tight,” he growls, pulling your hair back as your head snaps up, his mouth meeting yours as he licks feverishly inside, swallowing your moans while he continues his frantic thrusts into your weeping pussy. 

   He pulls out from you, throwing you on your back while he hooks your legs over his shoulders, rutting back inside you as his cock gets covered in your sticky slick. You throw your arms around his neck while he finds your mouth again, licking inside, moaning your name on the tip of his tongue as he speeds up his thrusts inside you. 

   The sounds are obscene, the wet smacking noises of his hard cock drilling inside your drenched pussy reverberating off the glow of the pristine walls. He releases his mouth from yours, leaning back to take in the gorgeous view that’s you. You’re splayed all over the couch, your perky breasts bouncing up and down with every thrust of his cock, your eyes all glossed over and fucked out while he takes you nice and slow. He thinks you’re a vision, a full on masterpiece that deserves to be displayed in an art gallery, your mouth making that pretty O shape while you chant his name angelically. 

   “Know you’re close, baby. Squeezin’ me so tight, feels so good,” he moans through the grit of his teeth. 

   “Joel, I’m gonna… gonna… fuck,” you whine as you feel that all too familiar white hot sensation rush through your entire body. 

   “Oh yeah, baby. That’s it. Such a good fuckin’ girl. Go on now, soak this cock,” he coaxes. 

   He watches you fall apart beneath him, beautiful, glossy eyes rolling back as you drag your manicured nails down his back, giving him the prettiest moans as you clench around him and release your cum all down his quivering cock. 

   “Good girl,” he praises, talking you through your intense orgasm as he quickens the strokes inside you, reaching heights you never could without him, kissing your cervix with the tip of his cock. It feels so fucking good, and you just gave him the best three orgasms of your life. You’re exhausted, but you need him to finish. You need him inside you. 

   Sweat drips off his forehead, ending in his tousled curls as he bares his teeth, barely able to hold on any longer. “Baby, I’m about to cum. I can’t hold on much longer. Where do you want me, sweetheart? Where do you want me to spill?”

   “Inside Joel, paint me white inside. Cum inside my pussy, please,” you beg. 

   He moans as he calls your name, giving you a couple more thrusts before he paints the insides of your thighs white with hot ropes of cum, throwing his head back as he revels in the ecstasy of filling you up with his seed, claiming you as his own. 

   He pulls out and twists you around, collapsing on his back against the velvet couch while you fall into his chest, his meaty hands holding you tight around the waist while you both come down from your intense orgasmic high. The room smells like sex and sweat, hints of vanilla and cherry flavored lips lingering around the room. It smells like heaven, Joel’s heaven. 

   Through the sounds of rushed breaths and tired bodies, he reaches up and hooks a strand of loose hair behind your ear, lingering his calloused fingers against your jawline while he assesses the beautiful starlights in your eyes. He thinks you’re the most gorgeous girl he’s ever laid eyes on, and now you’re all his. 

   You look at him just the same, memorizing the flecks of dark honey that make up his bright eyes, dragging your fingertips through his salt-and-pepper scruff, letting your other hand glide through his messy tousled curls. He may be your bodyguard who works for you, but now he’s so much more than that. He’s yours, and you’ll never let him go now. 

   “Still think this was a bad idea?” you ask with a raised brow, challenging him to say anything but yes. 

   “Too late for asking me that, sweetheart. I changed my mind. You’re jus’ what I needed,” he smiles, the flecks of his eyes shimmering amber as your own eyes sparkle with bliss. 

   “Glad you came around,” you giggle as he drags his fingers up and down your jawline softly. 

   “All ‘cause of a fuckin’ broken zipper. You know I can’t stop now, sweetheart? One taste of you and now I’m hooked. Afraid I can’t let you go now.”

   You lean into his chest, giving him your best dreamy smile as you trace the ends of a tousled greying curl. “Then don’t. Be mine, Joel.”

   “I’m all yours, sweetheart. All yours,” he whispers before he cups your face and brings your head down, meeting the plush of his lips as he kisses you nice and slow. 

   You melt into him, parting your lips so he can slot his way in, tangling his tongue with yours as you taste yourself in his mouth. You stay like that for minutes, getting lost in his soft touch, his musk, his dreamy eyes. You never want to leave this trailer, never want to be parted from Joel. The only question is, how will you ever be able to keep your hands off him in public? 

   You lean your head into the crevice of his neck, nestling up to his soft scruff that smells like him. You sigh and tangle your fingers with his while he holds you close to his side. “Guess we won’t see any more performances tonight?” 

   “I don’t know, baby,” he chuckles underneath you. “Think we need a shower and some food. Maybe take you for round two afterwards. But it’s up to you. We can either stay here or go watch more of the sets tonight. Whatever you want.”

   You think it over, but ultimately decide on his first offer. “Mmm, I think I’ll go with the first pick. Rather be here with you, in your arms, where it feels right.”

   He sighs, lingering a soft kiss on your cheek as he pushes back a falling curl. “Okay, beautiful. That’s what we’ll do then. You want pepperoni pizza? That’s your favorite, right?”

   “Mhm,” you nod. “Sounds perfect.”

   He chuckles, the chocolate flecks glistening in his pretty eyes. He looks so dreamy, almost unreal that he's underneath you, his skin glowing from the sight of you. “I’ve wanted you for so long, sweetheart. Can’t believe this is actually happening.”

   “I feel the same, Joel. Thought you might’ve caught on sooner with all the flirting I’ve been doing, especially up on stage. I might love getting a crowd pumped up, but there’s nothing more I love than making you blush at the side of the stage.”

   He tips his head back and laughs, his voice all deep and gravelly as he flicks his eyes back to you. “Oh, I caught on, darlin’. Figured you were tryin’ to get a reaction out of me, and you did. Now look at us,” he teases, cupping your chin with the palm of his large hand, causing tingles to run down your spine. 

   “Yeah, just look at us. A pop star and a bodyguard getting off on each other. Thought it’d only happen in my dreams,” you sigh, propping yourself up with your elbow on his sweat covered broad chest. 

   “Well, baby, it’s real. It happened. Reckon you’re mine now, yeah?”

   Your eyes perk up, a huge smile glistening across your shiny lips as you nod your head. “I’m all yours, Joel. As long as you’ll have me.”

   “Baby, I ain’t ever gonna let you go now. You’re all mine, and I’m gonna spend my days protectin’ and lovin’ this pretty pop star. That’s what you are, baby. You’re my shining star.”

   “And you’re my knight in shining bodyguard,” you giggle. 

   “Mhm, sure am, doll. And I don’t plan on ever lettin’ you go.”

   You fold back into his chest, pressing your lips hungrily against his. Eventually he carries you to the shower, helps wash off all the sweat and slick from earlier, until he takes you to your bed and makes love to you all over again. And it continues throughout the whole night, until both of you are passed out in each other's arms. 

   This is where you belong, in the arms of your fierce protector, your handsome bodyguard that you’re head over heels for. Your favorite brown eyed keeper. 

Tags: @laramc-02 @amyispxnk @sawymredfox @burntheedges @vivian-pascal

@littlevenicebitch69 @keylimebeag @msjarvis @akah565 @milla-frenchy

@aurorawritestoescape @alltheirdamn

[mostly-imagines]

The Alchemy I

jason todd x fem!reader

aka the progression of your relationship with the red hood

warnings: slow burn, mentions of attempted sa for reader, depictions of blood and injury, mentions of standard gotham violence

Dear fuck, he’s as heavy as he looks.

You use all of your weight to pull him backwards towards the couch, almost giving up when you realized you’d have to lift him up off the ground to actually get on it.

Getting him through the window was enough of a hassle, challenging the difficulty of the decision to bring him in here at all. 

Thankfully you don’t have to think too hard on it because you feel his body stiffen up suddenly. He jolts upright, though clearly pained to do so, hand flying to the gun holster on his side.

You take a step back, hands out in front of you. “Hey, it’s alright.”

“Who are you?” His voice is interrogative. 

You put your hands down, “You’re the one who passed out on my balcony, I think if anyone gets to ask that question it’s me.”

He stares at you, white lenses bearing into your soul.

Okay, yeah. You tell him your name. He doesn’t move. “You just looked like you needed some help..”

His posture loosens a bit, and his hand finally leaves the holster.

He glances down at his abdomen, a sizable tear in his suit and a nearly alarming amount of blood. “You got any bandages?”

“Uh, I—yeah, yeah, I do.” You dart down the hall into the bathroom, shuffling through your first aid kid. You toss a few wraps into your arms, along with some antiseptic spray you suspect he’ll need. You grab your hand towel and get it wet under warm water. 

When you return, he’s moved himself onto the sofa, lifting his shirt up to assess the damage. You round the couch, seeing more blood than you’d have hoped for.

“Can I?” You ask, motioning to his injury. 

He looks up at you for a long moment. He nods.

You kneel down in front of him and replace his hand in lifting up the shirt. It’s a cut, it doesn’t look terribly deep, but still not shallow enough that he could just leave it.

You take the rag and dab it around the wound, trying to clean up the blood as much as possible without making contact with it.

He’s very still as you work, and you get the strong impression he’s watching you carefully.

You grab the antiseptic spray, shaking it. “This’ll sting.”

He grunts.

You apply the antiseptic thoroughly and he doesn’t even flinch. Doesn’t move his gaze from you for a second.

You unwrap one of the bandages and place it on firmly, making sure there’s no bleedthrough.

And not that you particularly want to be thinking about this right now, but the man is noticeably ripped. Stacked like a house of cards.

You rip away your gaze and stand up, hands on your hips, taking a deep breath. You look at him—at his helmet.

You don’t know how you can tell, but he’s studying you. Trying to get a read on you, maybe. Regardless, you’re eager to escape the gaze.

You shovel the remainder of your supplies back into your arms and bring them back to the bathroom, calling out, “I didn’t take off your helmet, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

There’s a short beat. 

“Do I seem like someone that worries often?” 

You peek your head out of the bathroom door. 

You look at him. “You seem like someone that doesn’t worry enough.”

He snorts. “You’re not far off.”

You make your way back once you’re done, looking at the disregarded meal you’d been interrupted from. “I have pasta if you…eat.”

“I do.”

“I can go in the other room if you—”

He clicks the lock on his helmet, taking it off. He’s left with a second mask underneath, covering his eyes and nose. His dark hair sticks up from the helmet, a white streak poking out in the front. He looks younger than you would’ve expected. Cuter, if his jaw is anything to go by.

“Don’t worry about it.”

Okay then.

You grab a second plate out of the cabinet and scoop on the rest of the pasta from the pan.

You hand him the plate, avoiding standing too close. 

“Thanks, sweetheart.” 

You turn back around as casually as possible after hearing the name, wanting to avoid letting your face give anything away.

This guy kills people, right?

You sit down in the armchair across from the couch, spooling the pasta on and off the fork. He doesn’t show the same hesitation in dining away that you do—you guess fighting crime would require some calorie exchange.

“You a nurse?” He asks after a few minutes. 

The question takes you by surprise. You hadn’t taken him as a small talk kind of person. “Huh? Oh, no, I’ve just taken a few first aid courses and stuff.”

He gives a short hum, thoughtful.

“What?”

“You’re good.” Hardly.

“I didn’t really do anything.”

“You did enough.” He says, not leaving much room for argument.

He stands up at once, walking past you to the kitchen. Your gaze follows him silently. He puts his empty plate in the sink and returns to the edge of the living room.

He looks at you once more and pops his helmet back on followed by the click of the lock.

“I’ll see ya.” He says shortly, before ducking out the window.

You’re left alone, sitting in your armchair, plate of cold pasta forgotten on your lap.

That could’ve gone very badly. Maybe not your most thought-through decision to literally drag the Red Hood into your apartment, but hey. Maybe you’re exercising your ability to be an upstanding, helpful person. Or maybe you were just hoping to prevent a vigilante being found dead on your fire escape.

Regardless, you close the window after him, leaving it unlocked. Just in case.

You wake in the middle of the night to the sounds of footsteps in your living room. You shoot upright, immediately spotting the lamp light flooding in from under your door.

Creeping to a stand, you grab the baseball bat next to your bed and slowly walk to the door.

You creep the door open as quietly as possible, inching out half a step at a time. A nearby creak on your floorboards had you swinging blindly, only to have your bat get stopped midair. You look up to see Mr. Hood himself, blocking the blow of your hit with his hand. 

“Wow. You and a bat against Gotham, huh, sweetheart?”

“Fuck!” You let go of the bat and drown your face in your hands. “What is wrong with you?”

“Apparently that I don’t carry enough baseball bats with me.” He says coolly, inspecting your bat. Though he’s got to admit, your bat is probably a hell of a lot more useful than his. 

You drop your arms at your side. “If I’d known bringing you into my apartment one time was going to be considered a free pass forever, I might’ve thought twice.”

“If I’d known I was going to nearly be concussed with a baseball bat, I might’ve too.” Barely. If you’re being honest with yourself, you’re still half asleep and it was not a very good swing.

He looks at you straight on for the first time. His helmet quickly drifts down and back up to your face just as fast.

You look down. T-Shirt, underwear, and…no that’s it. Not…ideal. You pull down on the unfortunately not at all oversized shirt, wanting to creep back into your room.

He turns his back, allowing you to do just that and scramble for some shorts to throw on. 

“Very gentlemanly of you.” You call out from your room, “And only thirty seconds after breaking into my apartment.”

“Okay, one, I’ve been here longer than that. In a non creepy way.”

“Right.”

“And two, I didn’t break anything. You live in the middle of Gotham and don’t lock your window?”

You reemerge in the doorway, “I live on the eighth floor.” 

He turns around to face you again, helmet in his hands. “Didn’t stop me.” No it did not. 

“Mm. So are you here specifically to judge my home security or was there something you needed?”

He takes a deep breath, “Actually yeah. I just need a place to rest for a minute.” 

“Rest from what?”

A series of gunshots echo from down the street.

“Next question.”

Concise.

You and Hood sit on the couch in the dark, per his insistence, because for some godforsaken reason, you have no curtains. It takes a few minutes for the silence to dissipate into forced conversation, which takes a few more minutes to fade into actual conversation.

“Can I be honest with you?” You ask him.

“Does it matter how I answer?”

“I don’t understand how you’re not dead.” You poke your head up, turning to him. “Are you human?”

He cranes his neck to look out the window, “Maybe getting shot at isn’t the worst thing that could happen tonight…”

You roll your eyes with a smile that you’re glad is hidden by the darkness. “Oh, fuck off.”

“You don’t have much in terms of self-preservation skills, do you?”

You ignore him as to not acknowledge that he’s probably right and roll through to your next curiosity, “Who the hell was shooting at you anyways?” Though, you don’t really expect an answer.

He shakes his head. “Doesn’t matter. They got ‘til sunrise anyway.”

You tilt your head, “‘Til sunri—” oh. Yeah. Come to think of it, he does have two guns on him right now. At least that you can see. You squint blankly at the wall, “You know, I’m placing a lot of trust in the hope that you’re not just as bad as those guys.”

“Yes you are.” He nods, not doing anything to convince you that he is in fact a good guy. He hasn’t tried to harm you in any way though, so you guess that’s a good sign.

You tilt your head at him. “Do you get paid to do this?” 

“I’m pretty sure there’s a lot of people who would pay me not to do this.” 

You nod solemnly, mouth turned into an exaggerated frown. “So you have a day job?”

He looks over at you, “Do you always ask this many questions?”

“Are you always so dodgy about answering them?” You shoot back. If you’d thought for .5 seconds longer on that, you might not have said anything. But you feel comfortable here, in your apartment with a man whose face you’ve never seen, name you don’t know, and always has at least two loaded guns on him.

He huffs out a laugh, “Yeah. I am.” He looks over at you. “You live here by yourself?”

You look around at the empty apartment before turning back to him, “Seems that way.”

He shrugs, “Boyfriend could be out or something.”

“Well most people are asleep at one in the morning. Like I was. Remember that?”

“No.”

You sigh, curling up into a ball on your end of the couch, resting your chin on your knees. You’re quiet for a minute before piping up, “Do people actually break into apartments on high floors a lot?”

“Stupid people.” He pauses, looking over at the frown on your face. “Look, I’m in the neighborhood a lot. If I see somebody climbing your fire escape I’ll shoot them.”

You let a little smile out, “I’m thinking there’s other steps you could take before you get to that point.”

“If you want to waste time.” His gaze doubles back at you, “That was a joke, by the way.”

You bark out a tired laugh, “Yeah, I picked up on that, thanks.”

He removes his eyes from you, fixing on a set of pictures you have hanging on the wall.

Your eyes flutter and you move to rest your head on the arm of the couch. “Is this going to be a regular thing then?”

“You could lock your window.”

“Living on the eighth floor didn’t stop you, I can’t imagine a shitty lock will do much more.”

“If you don’t want me here, I won’t be here.” He says gruffly.

“If I don’t want you here, I’ll let you know.” You mumble, eyes closing.

You can barely make out a laugh from him, “Good to know.”

You’re not quite sure how much time goes by when he leaves, but you have a pretty strong feeling you’d fallen asleep. Your main indicator was feeling the blanket draped nicely over you that you could’ve sworn was on the chair across the room.

Maybe it’s ten o’clock at night and you’re sat on your kitchen floor, bawling your eyes out. Maybe you’re going to have to quit your job. Or maybe you’ll have to face a lawsuit. Maybe this is the worst day in the history of time. Maybe it’s about to get worse. 

The sound of your living room window sliding open has you startling into a rush, body panicking as if you’ve done something wrong and desperately need to cover the evidence. The past few weeks of sporadic visits leaves no question about who it is, and you just hope the kitchen island in front of you will be enough to convince Hood that you’re not in and he’ll leave.

But because today is today, that’s not how it goes down.

You can vaguely make out the sound of his footsteps approaching, a courtesy that you’re sure he incorporated on purpose.

“Oh fuck…” you mutter to yourself, wiping your eyes.

He rounds the counter, looking down at you. “Wha—what’s wrong?”

“Fuck. Nothing.” You say, standing up and adjusting your clothes. “Are you hurt?” He better fucking not be at only ten.

“No, I—why are you on the floor?” 

You roll your eyes, “I live alone, forgive me for assuming I would be given the privilege to cry on the floor in private.”

“Did something happen?” You’re trying really hard not to call him an idiot. 

You raise your eyebrows, giving a light nod. “Uh, yeah, I’d say so.”

He shifts in his stance, “Do I need to talk to someone?”

You scoff, knowing damn well his version of ‘talk to someone’ does not include talking to someone. “Why are you even here so early?” 

“Wanted to stop by before I went out.” he says quietly.

You’re about to snap something at him again, but the burning in your eyes takes immediate priority. You wrap your arms around your middle and try to calm yourself down, with very little success. The tears fall easily and your shoulders start shaking as you look at the floor, letting the melancholy take over. 

It feels like much longer than it probably was, but sometime after the first few tears fall he wraps his arms around you and pulls you into his chest. This only makes you cry harder, sobbing against his armor. Your arms stay wrapped around your center, while his hands remain completely still against your back, though firm. You don’t realize it immediately, but he’s holding a good portion of your weight up, you’d for sure collapse onto the floor otherwise. You kind of wish you would. Sitting on the floor felt nice, maybe falling down on it will feel even better.

You slowly start to regain your breathing, the well in your eyes drying up again. He waits for you to stop completely and slowly pulls back from you, hands momentarily still wavering next to you like he’s ready to catch you.

It takes you a minute to notice, but his helmet is locked on to the finger-shaped bruises on your forearm. You awkwardly move your opposite arm to cover them, looking around your apartment with nothing to search for.  

He’s quiet for a long while, clearly thinking hard. “What happened?”

You sniffle, “Some asshole at my job.”

“Some asshole?” He doesn’t believe you. Rightfully so, but he has no business being able to tell that you’re lying about one single word in that sentence.  

“My boss. Was very intent on successfully hitting on me.” You exhale deeply, “His approach could use some work though, if I’m honest.”

His posture remains statue-like. “Where do you work?”

You look at him straight on for the first time that night, “What does that matter?”

“I’ll take care of it.” He says simply.

You wave him off, “It’s fine.”

He waits a moment before letting you know, “I’m being polite by asking, I’m going to find out either way.”

You plop back down on the kitchen floor, knees to chest. “Well, then do it the hard way.”

About ten seconds of him staring down at you in silence go by, before he sits down next to you. It’s a bit funny how he tries to shrink himself down next to you, you’re assuming because he doesn’t want you to get panicked again because this massive stranger is sitting next to you in your kitchen in the dead of night.  

You don’t look at him as he clicks his helmet off and sets it on the other side of him. It’s quiet for another minute when he holds his gloved hand out to you, and you’re not quite sure how you know what he wants, but you do. You place your bruised arm in his hand, letting him gently pull it closer to him and scan over it. 

“Are you hurt anywhere else?” 

Again, you don’t know how, but you can tell he’s asking how far things went. “I started screaming and it freaked him out. He let me go.” you say numbly. 

You can see him nod out of the corner of your eye, bits of red making their way into your peripheral despite the discarded helmet. You turn slowly to look at him, finding him looking at you already.  

His face is more covered than it had been the first night, the same black mask covers his eyes but the lower half of his face is also hidden by a red mouthpiece. You’re in the lamp light and closer to him than you had been before and you’re counting out specks of green in his blue eyes. He lets you, to your surprise, and when you run out of emerald hues you take focus on his thick, dark eyelashes. Your gaze moves back ever so slightly to make eye contact with him and you tear your eyes away, zeroing in on the kitchen tiles. 

You sigh contemplatively, “I’m worried if you kill my boss it’ll be traced back to me and I’ll get pinned for it.”

He doesn’t laugh. But your delivery was a little dry in the wrong way so really it was on you.

“I’m not going to kill him.” he tells you, “I wouldn’t gamble with my pied-a-terre like that.”

Your head falls back, hitting the drawer behind you with a light thud. “Then why waste your time at all?” Maybe you should slow down with the snide comments.

He wants to, but he doesn’t call out the implied self-slighting in your words. “Maybe it’s a ‘me’ thing but I don’t particularly like men that hurt women.”

You let out a dry laugh. “In Gotham, it just might be.”

He sits with you on the linoleum tile of your kitchen until your eyes start to droop and he lightly corrals you to your bedroom before taking his exit through the window. You told him multiple times that he could go and you were fine, but he insisted that nothing important was happening in the city that time of night. You didn’t quite believe him though, because it was past midnight by the time he’d headed out.  

When you showed up to work the following day your boss wasn’t there. Wasn’t there the day after either. Or the day after. He didn’t make an appearance again until the following Monday. And when he did show face, he did so with a neck brace and a cast on his leg. But once more, he absolutely refused to make eye contact or speak to any of the female employees. It actually became a whole thing when he wouldn’t give instructions or feedback to any of you, and insisted on having his secretary replaced with a man, who he then used as a middle man to speak to all of the women for him. HR got involved three times in the span of the next five days, and by the Monday after, he’d been fired.

So to recap: yes, no, no, undecided, and hard no. 

Maybe you’re really starting to like this Red Hood guy.

Hard yes.

You’re slightly on guard upon hearing a clattering on the balcony, though if the past few weeks have been any indicator, you’re not in much danger.

Your posture slumps as you peer around the hallway corner, “Oh, it’s you.”

“Good to see you too.” he grumbles, dropping onto the floor.

“Well, I have to imagine I’m a step up from the last person you saw.” You say, looking him up and down, seeing what sure as hell looks like a gunshot wound on his chest armor. “What happened to you? The Mad Hatter uses guns now?”

He groans, “Ah, I said something about him being a heartless fuck, and I guess he took it personally.”

You sigh, “Jesus Christ, Hood.”

He waves you off, “It’s not that big of a deal.” 

You scoff, “He tried to shoot you in the heart.”

“Yeah, well, he missed.” He grumbles, adjusting his position on the couch. 

You exhale sharply, “How do you know?”

“How do I know?” He tilts his helmet at you, exasperated. 

You throw your arms up at your side, “I don’t know! I’m not equipped for this scenario.”

He huffs, “Look, it’s fine, it hit my armor. It’ll probably just be a bad bruise.”

“Probably?”

“I don’t think there’s blood. Could you…” he vaguely gestures to his torso, but it's enough for you to get the hint.

You shake the panic out of your head, “Yeah, yeah, of course.”

You help him shrug off his jacket as he strips off his armor, and you lift his shirt up as slowly as you can in case the injury is worse than he thinks.

You’re not shocked to see that he has scars, that’s kind of a given in his line of work. What you are shocked to see is one very long scar that lines directly up the center of his body. It’s a deep scar, too.

And, oh. The long scar extends further, splitting off into a fork at his collar. That’s—oh. Oh. Oh. That is an autopsy scar. 

You’re not sure what to do. You’ve never seen a living person with an autopsy scar—though you have to imagine neither have most people.

He clearly does not want to talk about it and you’re happy to let him keep the skeleton in the closet.

You avert your gaze back over to his diaphragm at the area of reddened skin.

“There’s no blood, but…” You inspect it a bit closer, “I think there’s going to be a bad bruise. You might end up with bruising on your ribs, you need to get that looked at.”

“I am.” He says shortly.

You stand up straight, dropping your shoulders. “By someone who went to medical school. Or has taken more than one anatomy class in their life.” 

He yanks down his shirt, standing, apparently too quickly, and wobbling. You catch his arm as he sways, attempting to steady him. “You should sit down.”

“Need to go back out.” He grunts, trying to pull away from you with little force.

“To get killed? ‘Cause you’re going the right way about it.” 

He tilts his head at you like he’s daring you to be so bold again. At least that's what it felt like. You sigh, gesturing to the couch, “Sit down.”

You didn’t expect it to work but he does as told.

You look around, unsure of what to do next. “Do you need ice?”

“What?”

“You’re hurt.” You say slower. “Do you need ice?”

He falters for a second, “No, it’s—no.” A couple beats pass before he adds, “Thanks, sweetheart.” 

It’s impossible not to notice that he’s staring at you. You feel hot under his gaze, not knowing what to do with yourself. You clear your throat, telling him to hang on for a second. 

You call out behind you as you walk to the kitchen, “Take your helmet off, it’s rude.” You grab the painkillers from their new easily-accessible place on the kitchen counter and grab a water bottle from the fridge.

It was a joke but when you come back his helmet is off and he’s just wearing his domino eye mask. His hair is extra tousled, the white streak barely visible in the mess of loose curls. You toss the bottle of meds at him, followed by the capped bottle of water. He catches them easily, downing more than he probably should have but he got shot tonight so you figure you’ll give him a break about it.    

You plop down on the couch next to him, honestly closer than you’d meant to. Your knees and shoulders lightly brush against one anothers, though neither of you make any moves to scoot over. 

You both look straight ahead at the wall, simmering in the amity. “So did somebody else deal with the Hatter or when you get shot do you just bounce back like a T-1000?”

He scoffs, “No, getting shot at is a bit of an inconvenience for me.”

“Wrong line of work.”

He cocks an eyebrow, “You’re telling me.”

You turn your head to him, “Why do you do it then?” 

He looks back at you earnestly. “Someone has to.” 

“Someone does.”

He tenses up a bit at that, breaking eye contact. “Not well enough.” 

Your head slowly lulls and drops into a rest on his shoulder, causing him to stiffen up a bit more before almost completely relaxing.

“So violence is the answer to violence?” you ask, not argumentative, just genuinely musing. 

Hood sighs, “Half-assed reform programs didn’t do anything, shitty ‘crisis interventions’ didn’t do anything, the cops sure as hell don’t do anything.” He shrugs under you. “You run out of options eventually.”

“And that’s why you took it upon yourself to intervene?”

“Mm. ‘When reason fails, the devil helps.’” He says, quite melodramatically, in your opinion.

“I-Is that—” you squint, shooting off of his shoulder to look him in the eye. “You spend your nights getting in street fights and shootouts and you spend your days reading Crime and Punishment of all things?” You gawk at him, “That explains a lot about your disposition.”

He shrugs with a shake of his head. “It’s a rough world. Can’t afford to be reading about Hogwarts.”

You pause, combing through your next words, “‘Man only likes to count his troubles; he doesn’t calculate his happiness.’”

His eyes crinkle under his mask as he smiles, clearly pleasantly surprised that you know your shit. “Touché.”

You grin back, pleased with yourself. 

There’s a brief recession where your smiles both get caught in the flicker between on and off, where your eyes take the opportunity to scan over each other’s faces. 

You realize that this may be the first time you’ve seen him properly smile and it’s so magnetizing. So much so that you don’t realize you’re staring at his lips until your eyes snap back up to his and find that his are on yours.

His eyes don’t leave yours as he nudges you a bit with his shoulder. It does just enough to break the trance, giving you the cue to rest your head on him again. This time you allow more of your weight to lean against him and he actually seems relaxed for once.

 You glance at the clock on the wall without moving and realize it’s almost four in the morning. “I’m tired, Hood.” you mumble into his shirt.

“You don’t—” he falters for a moment, “You don’t have to call me that.”

You squint at him, “What should I call you then?”

He’s quiet for a moment. “J.”

“J?” you whisper, like it’s a grave secret. You guess it kind of is.

He nods.

“Okay.” Your cheek flattens against his shoulder. “J.” 

You nearly think you’re imagining it when you feel him rest his head against yours.

“You don’t know how to protect yourself?”

You roll your eyes at him, “You saw the way I swung at you with the baseball bat, what do you think?”

It’s only just after sunset, you could still see some purple-pink hues in the sky if you looked out the window. He’s started showing up before patrol some nights, saying he felt bad about waking you up at 3 am multiple times a week. So now, he mostly only drops in late if he’s a manageable amount of injured.

You stand in the middle of your living room together, after you’d made a joke about needing him as a bodyguard in Gotham. As it turns out, that was a one way street to him finding out that you’re useless in a fight.

“I was hoping you were having an off night because you just woke up, but now I'm concerned.” He says, grimacing.

You shrug, “I carry pepper spray.” 

He grumbles, displeased. “Put your hands up.”

You drop your head to the side and glower at him, “Really?”

He raises his eyebrows at you. Just do it. 

Alright, you’ll humor him. You put your fists up and he holds his hands open in front of you in kind. You throw a light punch.

“Come on, put your weight behind it.”

You do, hitting his hand harder. “Hood—”

He tilts his head forward at that, looking at you through his brows.

You inhale impatiently, “J, Why do we have to do this? I don’t have any illusions that I could knock you out and I can’t imagine you do either.” 

He shakes his head, “It’s not about knocking someone out, it’s about defending yourself. Gonna be a hell of a lot harder to hurt you if you’re throwing punches. Harder.”

You give a raised hum, “Not if they have a gun…”

“Well, we’ll work on that too.”

You groan, throwing a half-assed hit. “Where’d you learn to fight?” You ask before throwing another.

“Turn your body into it.” He corrects. “My, uh, my dad taught me.”

You hum, hitting him again. “Are you guys close?”

“You’re being nosy again.” He grunts amidst a hit.

“You’re being evasive again.” You shoot back.  

He drops his hands, taking your wrists in his, “Here, put your hands in front of your face when you shoot so you can block counters.” He tells you, adjusting your stance accordingly.

You make a face, “I’m confused, am I fighting a mugger or a kickboxer?”  

He ignores you, moving his hands around to give you different angles to hit at. 

You go at it for a few minutes, taking his critiques with reluctant concedence. “Alright, that’s good.” He says, relaxing his body.

You perk up, “We’re done?” 

“No,” he shuts you down before asking earnestly, “Do you trust me?”

Your brain hadn’t even fully processed the question before you nod, mumbling a ‘yes’. He takes a measured step closer to you, watching carefully for your reaction. You almost back up in surprise, angling your head up further to look at him properly. You give no objection, so he continues, “I want you to try to get me on the ground.”

You let out a sound that’s half-laugh, half-scoff. “You’re twice my size.”      

He sighs, looking at you somberly. “Sweetheart, odds are you’re not going to be evenly matched against someone that wants to hurt you. You get ‘em on the ground ‘n you have the upper hand or it’ll give you time to get away.”

You throw your hands up at your sides, “I don’t—” You huff, “Fine, okay.” You try to trip him by sliding your leg behind his and kicking, but he blocks you expertly.

You, against better judgment, shove your shoulder into his side, though it does nothing to phase him, let alone knock him down. 

“You gotta get more creative than that.” He chastises with a tut. 

In response, you take a step back to reassess the situation. You try to maintain a poker face as you strategize in your head. You make a dive for his legs, wrapping your arms around the back of his legs and pulling hard to make him lose balance. You’re sure if he were actually trying for a damn you would immediately be done for afterwards, but it does make him wobble. You then throw all of your weight against him, pushing him backwards and causing him to hit the floor with a thud.

He probably allowed for gravity to come to your aid, but he lands on his back all the same. You land half on him, half on the carpet, your hand resting on his chest. He looks up at you nodding, “Good. That was good, sweetheart.”

You smile, quite proud of yourself, and start to stand up when he hooks his arm around the back of your knee and pulls you to the ground too, switching places with you. You hit the ground gently with a sigh, “Really?”

He has one hand rested next to your head to balance him in his place above you. He smirks down at you and lets a tussle of white hair hang over his forehead. “Can’t be getting cocky, sweetheart.”

You laugh sourly, “Coming from you?” 

You quickly push at the bend of his arm and use the distraction to adjust your position to wrap your legs around his center and push your arm against his chest in an attempt to rotate him off of you.

He counters you by pushing your shoulder down, holding you down to the floor. His opposite hand flies to pull your forearm away from his chest, pinning it next to your head, careful to avoid your hair. He moves so quickly that you have half a mind to think he acted on pure instinct. That, and the look on his face when the dust settles says that he hadn’t intended for you to end up in this position. 

Your legs are still wrapped around him and you’re too frozen in the moment to make any changes. He’s in no more of a rush to move, large frame towering over you. You feel his touch stutter against your shoulder, his eyes flickering across your face.

You gaze up at him, taking in the soft look in his eyes behind the mask. You think you can see more green than you did before. You unwrap your legs from around his waist and slowly start to sit up. He releases your wrist and eases the pressure on your shoulder. He leans back half as quickly as you move forward, stopping when you’re propped up on your elbows.

Your faces are only a few inches apart and it feels like your only option is to look down at his lips. You have a feeling he’s doing the same to you. The adrenaline of the hassle has long since faded but the rhythm in both of your chests remains quick.

He leans forward so barely, but it’s enough to make your breath hitch. “J…” you say breathily, not sure what implication you’re aiming for.

He stills and this time you’re sure he’s looking at your lips. He blinks a few times like he’s trying to come back to himself and inches his face away from yours slowly. 

You let the hold in your breath release, disappointed more than anything. He eases off the floor to a stand and holds his hand out to help you up too. You take it with more of a frown than you’d meant to let out and rise to your feet.

“Let’s, uh…” He looks at the ground before taking a step back and putting his hands up again. “Let’s try some combos.”

You blink up at him for a second before raising your hands too.  

Alright, one step at a time.   

[cockaiine]

The first time Sukuna eats you out, he doesn’t stop until you nearly pass out.

He’s willing to do it after you pass out, too.

The King of Curses never thought he’d find pleasure in having his head buried between the thighs of some woman. He would find it insulting if someone looked down at him—but when you look at him with tear-filled eyes, a look begging him to rip another orgasm out of you, he’s leapt back in within seconds and moving his tongue at a pace he wasn’t aware tongues could do.

It started off simple, just something he wanted to try out. He licks a thick stripe from your hole all the way to your clit, causing you to cry out and recoil slightly, head pushing back. You’ve always been quite sensitive, but now you’re acting like it’s your first time getting touched. It intrigued him.

Sukuna hums, tongue spinning around the sensitive bundle of nerves as red eyes intently watch you writhe and whimper, not doing a thing to control the lewd sounds escaping you. 

Your hands land in the bush of pink hair, tugging gently, as if to bring him closer. Short eyebrows furrow, a grunt escaping him and vibrating through your very being. He’s glad he hadn’t cuffed you up as he had planned to. Something about your inability to control your reactions enticed him, making him want more.

One hand leaves its setting on your thigh, instead going for your clenching hole, rubbing his thumb over it a few times just for the sake of hearing you moan.

“Such a mess…” He wears a victorious smirk on his face, slipping a finger in and watching your face contort with great imbuement. He can feel his cock throb in his pants, hard and ready. But he can wait. Just seeing you break apart at the feeling of his finger penetrating you is enough reason for him to hold back.

He slips another finger in, leaning his face back in again to lick at your clit. The stimulation drives you crazy, feeling the knot in your stomach begin to form unusually fast. He can tell from the way you tighten around his fingers that your close. He runs his tongue around your clit as if it’s his mission to make you cum right that second.

And Sukuna is no faliure. 

You cum right there and then, blabbering his name like a prayer and holding his hair so tight it’s nearly painful. His grunts fill you up, wallowing whatever he could of your essence like it’s his last drink. 

You taste unique, but it’s a taste he enjoys. One he wants to try again. He pulls another orgasm out of you, then another, and another. Until your legs are shaking and you can barely feel your lower half anymore. Yet he refuses to take his head away from you. Sukuna is not a believer, but between your legs lies the gateway to heaven he’s sure.

“One more,” he commands again, even with tears running down your face as you sob no more. “You can do it, can’t you?”

You're left with no choice but obliging, nodding with a trembling lip. He smirks and hides his face again, that's when the euphoric feeling hits, making you arch your back and moan his name.

[belovedvenom]

pairing: jason todd x reader

summary: jason takes you to his gravesite.

content warning: smut, sex in a cemetery, missionary, a lil angst if you squint

⠀ ͚ ♥︎ —

you thought he was joking when he told you he died before —buried 6 feet deep. you didn't find it funny but let out a few laughs anyway. “yeah, reall funny, frankenstein." until you looked at his face. oh. he was serious.

he didn't want you seeing his grave. shooting the idea down the second you asked but he knew you wouldn't be able to let it go so after a week he finally agreed.

sitting on the grass in front of his headstone, softly caressing the granite. running your fingers across his name. he watches you with tear filled eyes before lowering himself next to you. resting your hand upon his, silence fills the air as you look at his face. he refuses to meet you gaze —eyes locked on the singular rose you placed on top of the tombstone. cupping his cheek to turn his head towards you, he leans in to your touch. pressing a kiss to your palm as a tear escapes his eye.

“i got you now"

panted breaths and clawing fingers. jason's big hands encircled the flesh of your waist, pulling you on to his lap as he kisses you with a possesive urgency. fingers matching that same intensity. he claws at your hair, trailing down to your back. a whimper escaped your lips, swallowed by the intensity of the kiss.

as it broke, your foreheads rested against each other. a string of saliva connecting from your mouths. your fingers trailing from his neck to his hair, gripping the strands. he takes a sharp intake of breath

“i need you” his voice raspy and filled with desperation.

you look around at your surroundings but his palms on your cheeks bring you back. “now. please, baby." eyes pleading.

you pull him into another kiss full of teeth and tears. his lips move along your face, biting your lip, cheek, and neck as you fumble with his shirt.

choked breaths escaping your throat. hips grinding against the prominent bulge in his sweatpants.

off off off. he mumbles under his breath as he wastes no time ripping your shirt.

“jason!”

ignoring you, he flips you over. laying his body on top of yours. separating for just a moment to remove his own shirt.

“tell me you love me" his voice just below a whisper.

you reach for him but he moves to interlock your fingers.

“i love you, baby” squeezing his hand.

"tell me you need me." he croaks out.

“i need you, jay." you whimper. “always."

after removing your pants, he removes his own. fitting himself perfectly between your legs.

capturing your lips in a kiss as he positions his cock against your hole.

the feeling of him filling you makes you cry out in ecstasy. jason groans the whole time your tight cunt engulfs him. he rolls his hip slowly. nice and deep. hiking your leg up over his waist.

burying his face in your neck as you hold him. your hands find purchase in his hair, and you grip the dark strands. chanting i love you's in to your skin like a mantra.

sinking his teeth into your skin as he picks up the pace. heavy breath's leaving your lips. eyebrows pinched. one hand leaving a trail of bloodied scratches down his back.

"fuck i love you, jason." you cry out. “jason i love you.” your hand lands to the side of you, gripping the grass. his pelvis grinding hard against you. the tip of his cock hitting something inside that makes your eyes cross and your body tense.

looking to the side, your eyes lock with the angels a top his tombstone. body bouncing with each thrust.

uh uh uh's the only sound you can make. gripping jason tighter, your eyes swelling with tears as they trail down to the middle.

HERE LIES

JASON TODD

[philistiniphagottini]

To the Anon that came into my inbox the other day and suggested that Boothill had vibrating fingers. I couldn't stop thinking about it. This one's for you baby cakes <3

cw. smut, fingering (fem receiving), boothill's vibrating fingers, squirting, smidge of oral at the end, female reader

"Holy fudge" Boothill drawled.

His words were followed by a soft whistle as he cooed your name, the soft metallic whir in his voice causing a pleasant tingle to ripple down your spine. You shivered beneath him, blood simmering hotly beneath the cold press of his metal body as he hovered over you, a mischievous glimmer in his eyes as he watched your pussy swallow two of his fingers with rapt attention.

The tips of your ears burned red hot at the way your drooling cunt slobbered filthy around his vibrating fingers, warmth curling in the pit of your stomach as he buried his fingers all the way to the knuckle inside of you. A salacious moan bubbled up your throat as your long lashes fluttered over your burning cheeks, eyes hooded by Boothill’s favoured hat as it was pulled low over your eyes. Your thighs trembled as long wisps of his hair tickled your bare skin, goosebumps erupting along your arms despite the searing heat of your flesh. The sweat soaked bedsheets clung to your clammy skin as you pulled the material taut between your fingers, nails threatening to rip holes as the knot in your stomach twisted tighter. Your toes curled into the soles of your feet as Boothill massaged his fingers against your soused walls, your plush insides fluttering and pulsing as a third finger teased your sopping hole.

"Good girl" Boothill praised as he soothed his free hand along your hip, fingers digging into the soft pudge of your stomach as he watched your pussy struggle to take another one of his pulsing fingers. "Taking me so well, darl."

You could almost hear the neurons in his brain firing as the circuits in his inorganic body thrummed with energy, the pulsing of his fingers slowly intensifying as he poked and prodded your velvety walls until he found the blistering, gummy patch inside of you that made stars swirl in your vision. You shrieked loudly as a third finger pushed inside of you, a pleasant burn aching between your thighs as more slick dribbled from your pussy, translucent pearls staining the insides of your soft thighs as the beads of your arousal drizzled from your centre. You struggled to peel your tongue off the roof of your mouth long enough to form a coherent sentence, your head feeling dizzy as you tried to keep your eyes uncrossed and prevent them from rolling into the back of your head from the sheer bliss. You swallowed the budding saliva in your mouth, tasting the desire in the back of your throat as your bruised lips parted around his name.

"Boothill…please" you softly begged.

Your poor, neglected clit twitched and ached for attention, the heat simmering in your belly stoked into fiercer flames as Boothill pumped his thick fingers inside of you, your slippery pussy making the slide so much easier as he abused your soft spots with the tips of his fingers. A grin pulled at his lips as he flashed his pointed teeth at you, his tongue peeking out between the seam of his lips as your voice graced his ears like a chime from a shimmering bell.

"Please what, darl? Come on, use your words, pretty girl."

You almost choked on your words as the vibration of his fingers were knocked a notch higher yet again. Your heart droned in your ears like the loud beat of a drum, your pussy squelching noisily as you threw your head back with a piercing cry, your back curved into a beautiful arch as your lungs pinched in your chest. Boothill couldn’t wipe the smirk off his face as he watched your chest heave with exertion, soft tits bouncing and nipples pebbling from overstimulation. He was well aware he was being just a tad bit mean to you. But he couldn’t help it that you made the cutest little noises when you were being teased. A constellation of tears clung to the edges of your lashes as you gazed up at him with pleading eyes, teeth chewing on your lips as another wave of pleasure threatened to steal the air from your lungs.

Boothill leaned forward, fingers still plunging inside of you at an unrelenting pace as his face drew closer to yours. He flicked the rim of his hat up with his free hand, cold, robotic fingers curling around your chin and holding your face steady before your head could lull back once more. He hushed you as a small whimper crawled out of your throat, long strands of his hair spilling over your shoulders in a curtain of black and white as he pressed his lips to your cheek.

"Shh, pretty girl. I’m right here. Just tell me what you want and I’ll give it to you."

A soft noise stirred in your chest as your hands weakly clawed at his arm, nails scratching uselessly at his steel body as you tried to hold onto the fraying edges of your sanity. The heat in your stomach was almost unbearable and you didn’t know how much more you could take as pressure built in your belly, the feeling both foreign and familiar as you twisted beneath Boothill.

"Boot…hill…I wanna- want to cum" you rasped with a breathless whimper. "Aeons above please touch my clit."

"Ohh~" Boothill cooed before he clicked his tongue. "So that’s what my girl wanted."

Whatever retort was rolling around in your mouth was immediately swallowed when Boothill pressed his thumb against the slick pearl of your clit, pressing down on the tightly packed bundle of nerves as it flushed to life. Your thighs tensed as your moans echoed around your stuffy bedroom, the tips of your fingers turning numb as the heat in your stomach started to boil. Boothill swirled his thumb around the swollen nub of your clit, rubbing it in time to the frantic pump of his fingers. The sensations of his vibrating fingers were amplified by how sensitive and wet you were, his thumb bullying your clit with unrelenting attention as your pussy squeezed around his fingers. Your shaking hips rolled into his touch as the sweltering knot inside of you frayed, Boothill’s voice tickling your ear as his tongue swiped at the perspiration clinging to your skin.

"That’s it, good girl…son of a nice lady you’re gripping me so tight. It’s okay pretty baby, I’ve got you. Just let go."

His words were the last push you needed. The burning coil in your stomach shattered into a million tiny fragments, your veins flooded with white hot euphoria that made your hips lock into place as your pussy spasmed around his fingers. You squirted on his fingers as they continued to vibrate against your pulsing walls, thin strands of translucent fluid spilling from your core. The intimate press of his thumb against your clit felt heavenly as you rode of the waves of your pleasure high, voice scratching your throat as you moaned and wailed. But the prolonged buzzing against your wet and throbbing sex was quick to overwhelm you, the vibrations amplifying your pleasure to an almost torturous degree as another wave of arousal stole the breath from your lungs. You thrashed in Boothill’s hold as your legs wound around his hips, feet kicking his sturdy back as you squawked.

"Too much!"

The vibrations ceased and a sigh of relief whistled through your teeth. Boothill removed his thumb, fingers still stuffed into the hilt inside of you as he swooped down between your thighs and replaced his thumb with his warm mouth. You sighed and mewled with bliss as his lips pressed soothing kisses to the overstimulated bud of your clit, your fingers delving through his hair as you gently pulled on the long strands. His tongue teased the hood of your clit, scooping up your slick before swallowing thickly. A pleased purr tickled his throat.

"Good girl" he praised before pressing an open mouth kiss to your drenched pussy. "Damn, I could stay here all night if you’d let me."

[lenoraslament]

Slytherin Boys React: How They Would Overstimulate You

I’ve been gone for too long, so I decided to write the dirtiest post I’ve ever written (for Tumblr at least)

Warnings: 18+ only, Minors DNI, smut, degradation, oral (m+f receiving), piv, voyuerism, fingering, overstimulation, toxic, cnc, fingering, slapping, smut with no plot, pain, praising, begging.

Mattheo Riddle: Fucking You Past Your Limit

“Hold your legs for me yea?” Mattheo asks, but you know by the tone of his voice that he’s really telling you to. You sigh softly and hold the backs of your knees as your legs tremble.

“Just like that,” he grins as he pushes forward bottoming you out immediately. The gasp leaving your wide open mouth is his reward. His hands press into the bed beside your face trapping you under him as he thrusts deeply. At least this position lets your body rest. Tonight, he’s already had you bent over his desk, standing by the wall with your leg hitched up onto his waist, and sitting on his dick with your legs dangling over the edge of the bed as you felt the full length of him threatening to break you.

He groans and curses as he jackhammers his way into you relentlessly. Your mouth is an endless string of moans and cries. When he feels you tense around him as you come, he finally rolls off and lays beside you on the bed.

“Get on top” he says tapping your leg urgently.

“You have got to be kidding” you whine breathlessly.

He takes your hand and places it on his still hard cock, “Does it feel like I’m kidding?”

Theodore Nott: Fucking Your Mouth

Another tear rolls down your cheek as you gag. Theo’s hand wraps tightly in your hair tugging you off his cock. Your lips drip with your own thick saliva mixing with tears. Your eyes look up at him blinking back water, wondering if he’s finally done.

“You’re so fucking pretty when you cry for me bella” he mutters in a low voice. His sleepy eyes don’t seem concerned that your jaw is aching, that he’s been using your mouth for nearly thirty minutes. Your mascara isn’t even under your eyes anymore, the muddy tracks are dripping under your chin.

“Just a little longer” he says as you gag again his thickness filling your mouth mercilessly. His hips thrust forward as he keeps your face in a vice like grip using you like his own personal toy. When he finally comes in your mouth, you’re so relieved it’s over. He whispers dirty praise making you feel proud of yourself. You’re even grateful to swallow.

Lorenzo Berkshire: Going Down on You

It felt amazing. An hour ago. Now Enzo’s hands have to keep your thighs from pressing back together around his ears. His tongue circles your clit, then flicks on the nub as you gasp and whine.

“Please baby…I can’t,” you whimper but he only laps and slurps greedily as she feel the coil inside of you threatening to snap again.

“Yes you can” he says in a low voice. You whine again as he flutters his tongue,.

“Oh God you taste so sweet,” he mumbles as his tongue plunges into your hole for a moment before continuing its assault on your bundle of nerves.

Your hips roll forward and he pins them down as your body nearly folds in half from another panting climax. Enzo’s mouth hungrily devouring your orgasm as he eats you through it.

Draco Malfoy: Making You Watch Yourself

“Look at how beautiful you are” Draco whispered in your ear. You can hardly stand anymore much less open your eyes and look in the mirror. When you finally do, you are a mess. Your cheeks are flushed, your lips parted, your hair is clinging to your forehead that is getting damp with sweat.

Draco stands behind you, one hand on your breast the cool rings of his fingers soothing your burning skin. The other hand delicately rubs your clit so softly and constantly. He buries his cock into you again as you whimper, his lips brushing kisses on your neck and shoulder. The maddening sensation hurling you to the edge, his lips curled up in a smirk in the mirror.

Your third orgasm rips through you as you shudder, your eyes rolling back obstructing your view of yourself again. That’s okay. Draco rolls your nipple between his fingers reminding you to snap your eyes open as you watch him take you over and over again.

Blaise Zabini: Fingering in Public

“Can you believe it Y/N?” Pansy asks you excitedly from across the table.

“Huh?” You asked softly. She looks at your parted lips confused, your eyes are half lidded and you squirm in your chair.

“Are you even listening to me?” She asks.

Blaise sits beside you, his fingers thrumming deep inside your cunt. Panties pushed aside and your skirt rolled to your waist. At least there’s a table cloth to provide some semblance of privacy.

“Stop being rude Y/N,” Blaise says teasingly, his cocky smirk watching you try and hold your composure. His fingers curl up in a ‘come hither’ motion brushing your Gspot. The rhythmic motions pair with his thumb tracing gentle circles on your clit and your brain feels fuzzy.

You have to put your head on the table and cover it with your hands to stop from screaming as Pansy rolls her eyes at your strange behavior and walks off. Blaise feels the liquid on his palms as you squirt onto his fingers, your face panting trying to shyly hide your face.

“Good job staying quiet babe, just give me one more” he whispers in your ear.

Tom Riddle: Pain

I mean. It is Tom Riddle. He loves overwhelming you in the most taboo way. Your legs wrapped around his waist as you sit on his desk, one hand pressed to the small of your back as he pushes into you. With every thrust he delivers a smack to your cheek. You’re breathless as his hand is wet with your tears.

“Take it doll,” he says in a low growl as you feel every slap shift your thoughts away until all you can focus on is the pain and the pleasure. Soon your breathing is rhythmic as your body responds, he loves watching you come undone as he pushes your limits.

Your pussy clenches him and your whimpers turn into loud moans of pleasure as he rolls his hips into you at an untethered pace. His hands to move to grip your ass as he fucks you through your climax.

Then he holds your red cheeks kissing you roughly as you shudder with orgasm. He’s not happy until you’re lost in sub space, nearly babbling incoherently. Desperately asking him if you’ve been a good girl.

—————————

☺️my requests for writing at open!

[sassypossumm]

Good morning miguel nation! Quick thought...

Miguel jealous... [Minors DNI]

Miguel so pissed seeing that same guy who's been bothering you on and off for the last hour, that he's clenching his jaw. Clenching it so hard that it's a wonder he hasn't cracked his teeth.

Miguel storming over, and grabbing your wrist and tugging you down the hallway without a second glance back.

Miguel shoving you into a closet.

Miguel silencing your protests about 'making a scene' by shoving his tongue down your throat.

Your hands flying to tangle in his hair as his tongue wrestles yours into submission before possessively running over the roof of your mouth.

Miguel hiking your dress up and ripping your panties off with a primal growl, his body pressing yours against the closet wall.

Miguel's hips grinding into your thigh, his lips and teeth leaving angry purple marks along the column of your throat. His fingers pumping in and out of you with a lewd squelch.

Miguel's mouth covering yours hotly in an angry kiss to silence your wanton moans, his fingers curling against your g spot with unnerving precision on every thrust.

You quickly coming undone, nails scratching at the back of his neck, your hips bucking into his hand, tongue sucking desperately at his as your walls clamped down around his fingers, coating them in your essence.

Miguel pressing his face into your neck, nuzzling your shoulder, he's always softer after you cum. His lips brushing along your jaw, whispering praises about how beautiful you are.

Miguel lacing this fingers with yours and bringing both to his lips to suck your cum off of them.

A couple of party guests leaving their coats behind when they heard the sounds cumming from the closet...

[sinsirellaxx]

how do you think the toxic!slytherins would be with an innocent!reader who’s literally the biggest sweetheart in the world (even to men which the slytherin boys don’t like)

Slytherin Boys – with an innocent partner

Warning: toxic boys! Not proofread

Mattheo ...

… would be so protective. He’d want to rip his hair out whenever you smiled at someone else – ready to help with whatever.

… had been drawn to you because of your innocence but now he constantly had to bite the inside of his cheeks to keep himself from losing his grip on his sanity – he did not wish to scare you.

… would silently glare at anyone that dared to approach you, his arms crossed in front of his chest with his brow raised. He was glad that most people – especially those, who had heard every rumor about him – nervously smiled at you before retreating. And those who were stupid enough – or unfortunate enough to not know him – would have to deal with his wrath.

… however, would never want to change you – you were his little sunshine after all. He’d just need to get rid of all the annoying sunflowers trying to bask in your warmth. Your warmth was only reserved for him, after all.

Theodore …

… was annoyed by your unrelenting need to help everyone out. He and everyone else were aware that you just couldn’t say no. You simply couldn’t.

… would try different ways to keep people away from you – with the male audience he was successful, silencing the lot with his bloody knuckles and a few of his favorite curses – but he couldn’t go and hurt or threaten girls as well, right? Not only was it wrong, but the girls would surely talk about it and one day the whispers would reach you. He didn’t want you to hate him.

… finally comes up with the perfect plan: He’s going to manipulate you into thinking that your ‘neglect’ is breaking his heart and makes you believe that he feels unloved in your relationship. The tears in your eyes caused guilt to pool in his stomach, the sob that forced its way out from between your lips broke his heart but the way you clung to him was totally worth it.

Lorenzo …

… has bitten his lips bloody from the all the times that his time with you had been interrupted by random students. Even in the privacy of either of your dorm rooms people would find you. Keeping his image that he had so carefully crafted in mind, he refrained from taking action – keeping everything he wanted to do to those imbeciles strictly trapped in that colorful mind of his.

… however, had never been the most patient boy – especially when it came to love. The moment you talked to that stinking Weasley something in his head seemed to snap – just like the ginger head’s neck would if he continued talking to you.

… would be extremely possessive and jealous.

… for once in his life, wouldn’t know what to do, without possibly ruining everything with you.

Draco …

… fell in love with that sweet smile and those eyes that would light up, whenever he greeted you. However, he quickly realized that he wasn’t the only one smitten with you.

… would be so pissed and green with jealousy.

… hates the idea of you spending time with people that did not deserve your attention and because he is afraid that someone will take advantage of you, he’ll just stick to you 24/7. That way he can protect you if something were to happen.

Blaise …

… loves watching you interact with your friends but only if it’s with female friends.

… is very protective because he is afraid that people will take advantage of you.

… loves to be at the receiving end of your innocence.

… constantly teases you and enjoys watching your cheeks redden.

Tom …

… love and hates your purity – who is he kidding? He fell in love with you for that exact reason, but he hates that he can’t keep you bottled up and locked away just for himself.

… he’d definitely be the most direct and aggressive in keeping others away from you. He wasn’t afraid of losing you – you’d never leave him. He wouldn’t allow it.

… is your shadow – he’ll follow you around everywhere because he doesn’t trust anyone – especially not your knowledge of human nature.

[norrisleclercf1]

Would love to see a fic where Carlos wakes up before everyone else does, gets himself an espresso before sitting back on the bed to watch his two loves snuggled together and still asleep while reminiscing about their wedding the night before. And he can’t help but feel so lucky that he got to marry her and Lando

Love you and your writing 🥰

A/N: BRb going to go cry from this cuteness

Carlos was always an early riser, he doesn't know when it started maybe it was the way he sometimes craved the silence of the morning air, or just from racing all over the world and his body not sure what time zone it was in.

Waking up this morning, he knew exactly where he was. Lying in bed, feeling slightly groggy, his brain fogged up, but his body wide awake. Sliding out of the bed he smiles at the coast of Spain, somewhere in southern Spain, loving the smell of the ocean drifting through the open balcony doors.

He loved his little condo, it was small yet big and cozy and it was the perfect place. Padding into the kitchen, he loves the way the sun warms his back as he makes his espresso. The smell of the coffee has his brain waking up, like it was stretching and blinking it's eyes open.

Turning, he takes a deep breath, the salty air burning his lungs, the coffee finally has his brain kick started as his eye sight grows sharper and his memory of last night causing him to blush.

With a beep, Carlos takes the little cup into his hand and makes his way silently into the bedroom looking at the naked bodies, of his two greatest loves. Lando, on his stomach, curls wild and tanned back with muscles ripped through him. And you, so soft and gorgeous curled into Lando's side, the space Carlos left now no longer there.

Lando and you both have matching bite and hand marks, Lando's hips bruised with hand prints and your ass and neck matching. Carlos chuckles at the wedding dress just thrown on the floor and the two suits matching, but he loves the way your and Lando's rings gleam in the Spanish sun.

Sitting on the edge of the bed, he smiles at the way you two were glowing, so happy and healthy and to have your close friends and family around, seeing the love you three have for one another.

Carlos sips his fancy espresso as Lando groans and slowly opens his eyes, rolling onto his back. Licking his lips, Carlos's eyes trace the love bites littering his chest and his stomach, even down to his hips, Carlos can't help but stare at the little happy trail.

Scolding himself he takes deep breaths trying to calm himself. Lando sits up and blinks slowly, eyes tired but thriving. "Morning," Carlos shivers, at Lando's morning voice and the ring sparkling as Lando runs his hand through his hair. You whine, seeking warmth in your sleep.

"Come back to bed," Lando whispers, and Carlos could never say no, all you and Lando had to do was smile and stands. "Naked," Lando points to the boxers and Carlos chuckles and tips his espresso cup back and finishing off the rest. Sliding out of his boxers, Carlos is quick to slide between you and Lando.

You sigh in your sleep and cuddle closer, mouth pressed right against Carlos's neck. Lando moves cuddling closer and places a soft kiss on Carlos's shoulder. "Wake me up with a blowjob later?" Lando yawns and Carlos chuckles, nodding his head. "Of course, baby," Lando smiles lazily and slips off to sleep. Carlos could get used to married life.

[cambrinkownsme]

༺ ♱ I've Missed You ♱ ༻

pairing - paige x fem!reader

word count - 1.9k

themes :

-filth

-angst

-18+

warnings :

-smut

-cussing

a/n - i feel like i haven't written p smut in a little....

you and paige had been on and off for months. breaking up one day and getting back together a week later. it was toxic, obviously, but you both loved the thrill.

you also loved the sex that you'd have if you even dared to step near anyone else while you guys were "broken up".

the door slammed behind me and Paige. I was already drunk enough to the point where my eyes were water and I couldn't really feel my feet. the last thing I needed was my "ex" screaming at me. I held my breath when I got into my room. I knew that the door would swing open any second now. and there it was.

paige stormed up to me, her hair bouncing off of her shoulders. she was still a little tipsy. I could see it in her eyes.

"so what was that huh?"

she didn't yell but she didn't just talk either. heavy breaths left both of our mouths. the air was thick and infested with the smell of alcohol and old body mist that was slowly fading away.

"fucking answer me. why was that girl all up on you? and why did you stop her?"

i ignored Paige's questions multiple times until she was fed up. I felt her hand hold onto my wrist and I let her lead me to the bathroom. all I could do was groan with annoyance as Paige slid the two of us into the bathroom.

she locked the bathroom door behind us and didn't hesitate to press my body against the door. i knew what was about to happen. paige's hands roamed around my hips and ass while she let her lips hover over my own. i could tell that she was trying to tease me just to piss me off but i wasn't letting her get her way this time. so i stayed still while she became more and more frustrated

"fuck." she breathed out before pressing her lips against mine roughly. i barely got to kiss back before she was shoving her tongue down my throat. our saliva slowly melted together and she let a string of spit fall down my chest while she moved her lips around my chest. she quickly took one of my nipples into her mouth, rolling it around with the tip of her tongue sending a couple whines out of my mouth.

i finally caved and held onto her back while she worked her way down my stomach and to my soaking wet core. she let her fingers dance around the miniskirt that just barely covered my ass before tugging it down my legs. before she did anything else, she lifted herself back up to my ear to whisper "so wet for me just after arguing? y'little slut." her finger ran across my clothed pussy sending waves of pleasure through my body.

"mmm. paige please." i pleaded into paige's ear the moment she took her hand away from my pussy. without saying a word, paige held onto my waist while lowering herself back to where she was. she took her time removing my panties and now her teasing was working. the second my panties were lower than my thighs, i rushed to kick them off. finally, paige dug her tongue through my folds hitting all the right places while gathering all my slick onto her tongue. longer strings of curse words left my mouth the deeper paige went. and just like that i was already close to cumming right on her tongue.

"f-fuck right there. don't stop paige!" i whined out as paige began to flatten her touch against my puffy clit. but then she stopped, ripping her mouth away from my cunt. i couldn't help but hold onto her shoulders, almost like i was trying to hold her back where she was.

"what the fuck paige!?" paige stood up and moved my body away from the bathroom dort before walking out and sitting herself on the bed. my neck snapped around while i followed her out of the bathroom.

"c'mere." she said tapping the bedding next to her. i crawled to her side and waited there while she stared at me with amusement in her eyes. after a while of silence and staring i decided that it was enough. i wrapped my hands around the sides of paige's hips and straddled her lap. my lips trailed across her face, placing kisses on every inch of her ivory skin. i practically had tears in my eyes at the loss of her tongue but tried to ignore it and continue looking into paige's eyes.

"you upset, baby?" she cooed while dragging her thumb across my jawline. "obvious isn't it." i replied.

she then slowly lifted up her tank top just enough to reveal her toned abs. just the sight of her bare stomach caused me to groan. i wanted to ride her abs right then and there but i knew she wouldn't give in that easily. but i still started grinding against her skin. the feeling of my clit dragging across each defined ab created a knot in my stomach. i quickly sped up my pace, now almost bouncing back and forth on her abs. i felt paige's large and cold hands grip onto my ass, slowing me down which only upset me even more.

"n-no." i whined.

"what? tell me what's the rush."

"you didn't let me cum"

"and you flirted with someone else"

"we aren't even together paige"

"well we are now"

her hands had a death grip on my skin, nails two layers deep leaving marks. she continued to guide me at a fast enough pace to have me cumming all over her stomach without seconds. "thats it princess. cum all over me." my words began to get caught in my throat as i rode out my orgasm. the only thing i could let out was loud whines and the occasional 'please.' my eyes were screwed shut, no matter how badly i wanted to see that smug smile on paige's face. she got even more cocky than usual when she made me finish with just her touch. it pissed me off a lot of the time.

i was about to continue riding her abs as much as I possible could but of course Paige couldn't hold the same position for a singular minute. I whined with annoyance as Paige stood up, tossing me to the side. she walked out of the room without saying anything and when she came back she had a 7 inch strap, harnessed to her waist. my breath hitched once I saw the size of her plastic dick but knew just how rough she could get if her buttons were pressed. I was still sitting on the backboard of the bed when paige took my hand into her grasp, leading me to the floor. "on your knees." she growled. so I settled my face closer to her harness, rough carpet felt scratchy and painful against my knees. before I could take a deep breath and prepare for her, Paige slid the purple strap along my tongue and down my throat, not hesitating to go as deep as possible. she started off slow but began to fuck my mouth at an ungodly speed. the tip hit my uvula multiple times, causing me to gag against the silicone in my mouth. but Paige didn't stop until there were hot tears rolling down my cheeks.

she slowly removed the strap from my mouth before taking a handful of my hair in between her fingers and spinning me around so that my face was facing my full body mirror. without even getting a chance to catch my breath, Paige slipped the length of her strap in my cunt, sending a guttural moan out of my lips followed by a string of course words. in the back of my mind I knew that I would get punished for shutting my eyes so tight but a wave of embarrassment washed over me watching my own naked body bent over, moving back and forth with every thrust of Paige's. once the blonde noticed that my eyes were closed, she placed a firm slap on my ass, stopping her thrusts abruptly.

"open your goddamn eyes princess." her grip on my waist tightened, making me wince a little. I opened my eyes and the first thing I saw was Paige's red hot face smirking towards me in the mirror. "good girl."

she began sliding her strap in and out of my pussy with ease and at a steady pace. she began to speed up her own hips just at the sound of my whines.

"fuck paigey d-don't stop." she took her hand that wasn't holding onto my waist and quickly it moved to my bare tit, massaging it while speeding up her thrusts even faster. "fuck fuck fuck I'm so close p." Paige began to fuck me through my second orgasm, all the juices that left my already soaking wet pussy slid down my thighs and down my calves. "that's it baby..." she whispered under her breath in contrast to the pornographic words and whines that left my mouth. she lifted the upper half of my body up closer to her face and whispered "wanna give me one more pretty girl?" and I couldn't say no. "mhm. whatever y'want."

paige held my back against her chest while she shoved her 'dick' in me at a slower speed. she began placing kisses all over my shoulders and neck without stopping her thrusts into me. just the noise her strap made against my pussy sent me over the edge for a third time. "shit right there!" I waited out as Paige's tip hit all the right places at once, causing me to gush all over my own legs and her strap. the second she removed her strap, it was her tongue.

she pushed my body onto the bed and used both of her hands to lift my legs over her shoulders. her tongue flicked at my already abused clit. she used the very tip of her tongue to lick all of the left over arousal that was spilling onto her strap or my legs. "mm fuck, taste so good for me." the vibrations of her voice almost sent me to heaven. now she was finally slurping and digging through my folds with her tongue, slowly sliding it further inside. "holy fuck! please don't stop Paige." my hands were now tangled in her hair which I could barely grab due to how tight my thighs were wrapped around Paige's head and ears. she continued to gather all of my liquids, moving her tongue faster than ever and not missing a single drip of me that spilled into her tongue which was shaped into a cup just to make sure she was able to get everything in her mouth. my legs began to shake as I reached my fourth orgasm. my legs fell like jello onto Paige's shoulders while my head was thrown back against the pillow.

before Paige to swallow all of me, she pressed her tongue against mine, giving me a taste of myself while kissing me sloppily. my legs were wrapped around her hips while her face hovered over my face. "so fucking pretty." she said, moving a strand of my hair behind my ear. I had words that needed to come out but I was too fucked out. Paige could clearly tell.

"say it. I know you want to." she said sternly.

"I've missed you-" I began to speak

"yeah you did" Paige snapped back before pressing out lips together again.

[niki-phoria]

OMGGGG !!! I LOVED THE LATEST WORK SO MUCHHHH SO CUTE !!! would it be too much to ask a continuation of that but with different characters like gojo, toge, nanami and the rest ?? the exact same just different people where they fall asleep on the reader <333

⋆｡°✩ ANGEL / KNEW YOU WERE SPECIAL FROM THE MOMENT I SAW YOU

gojo satoru, geto suguru, inumaki toge, and okkotsu yuuta falling asleep on you

notes: gn reader (no pronouns used), not proofread, sorry if anyone is ooc !! not super happy with these tbh but i'm so glad you liked the last one !! i hope you enjoy this one too :)), header from pinterest, title from the weeknd - angel

curses make GETO SUGURU sick. they taste like a rag that’s been used to clean vomit. swallowing them is an indescribable feeling - one that cannot be forgotten, even with drugs or alcohol.

he sighs as he slips into your shared bedroom. moonlight illuminates your figure, sitting up wide awake on your side of the bed. “you’re home.”

suguru smiles. his hand slips into his hair, brushing a few stray strands away of his eyes. “you waited up for me?”

“of course i did.” his face flushes as you reach up, wrapping your arms around his neck. his hands linger around your waist as he pulls you into a tight hug. “how did it go?”

suguru closes his eyes, leaning into your touch. with each passing moment in your embrace, he can feel the weight of the world slipping off of his shoulders. swallowing his distaste for sorcery, he murmurs, “it was fine.” 

you hum. pulling away slightly, you press a chaste kiss against his cheek. “come here.”

with flushed cheeks and a soft smile, suguru slips underneath the covers to lay beside you. his hair falls down his back in waves, finally released from the confines of the usual bun. 

“i love you, suguru,” you whisper. “i’m glad you’re safe.”

“i love you too.” suguru sighs in response, hiding his face into the crook of your neck. curses make suguru sick. but when your arms wrap around his waist and your fingers tangle in his hair, maybe his life isn’t so bad after all.

GOJO SATORU flinches when shoko slams a cup of water down in front of him. “drink it,” she commands. “you’ve been sitting here wallowing for days. it’s not a good look on you.”

he remains silent, accepting the cup with a shaky sigh. shoko’s dark eyes study his features with a sharp glare. the usual playful glint in satoru’s ocean blue eyes is missing - replaced by a dullness she hasn’t seen in years. his shoulders slump from exhaustion; usually pristinely combed strands of his hair have become tangled from a lack of care. 

shoko sighs. “y/n will be fine.” her words ring hollow through satoru’s mind. his gaze catches a glimpse of you once again - body laying limp in the hospital bed, covered in layers of bandages and bruises. his heart leaps into his throat. 

it’s only when shoko places a hand on his shoulder that he realizes she’s expecting a response. satoru coughs, muttering a soft, “yeah.” 

time blurs together. seconds turn into minutes into hours. it moves agonizingly slow and far too quickly all at once. he closes his eyes, cursing everyone he can think of. of all people - why did it have to be you?

satoru jumps when you cough; the quiet noise is enough to rip him out of his daydream. he digs his nails into his palms. this isn’t real, is it?

“y/n!” he scrambles to his feet; his face looms over you as he studies your face. “you’re awake! how are you feeling? are you okay?”

“i’m fine,” you chuckle. reaching up, you brush your thumb against his cheek. “you look worse than me.”

“i was just… worried.” satoru sighs, leaning into your touch. “don’t ever do that again.” 

you softly smile, reaching up and gently carding your fingers through his hair. you guide him to join you in the overly cramped bed. “i love you, satoru.” closing his eyes, he presses his ear against your chest, letting the steady rhythm of your beating heart slowly lull him to sleep. 

INUMAKI TOGE slumps into the seat beside you, not bothering to stifle his yawn. the hem of his uniform presses against the tip of his nose, effectively hiding the curse marks embedded into his skin behind the fabric. he leans against the wall as he studies the smooth plaster coating the ceiling. 

“are you tired?” you murmur. toge startles slightly at the sound of your voice before he nods slightly. you smile. “me too. i wish they would stop sending us out so early.”

shivers run down toge’s spine when your shoulders casually brush against each other. he hadn’t noticed the limited space between your bodies until you were already touching. hesitantly, he leans over until his head settles against your shoulder. “mustard leaf?”

“yeah, it’s fine.” you smile, warming his cheeks once again. toge’s breath hitches in his throat when your lips casually brush against the crown of his head. his heart beats erratically in his chest and his face burns a deep red, thankfully hidden behind the fabric of his uniform. deep violet eyes stare into your own as you brush his bangs aside, softly smiling down at him. “get some rest. i’ll wake you up when ieiri-san gets back.”

toge doesn’t tell you that it’s nearly impossible to relax around you - butterflies swarm around in his stomach relentlessly and he can feel his face burn. he doesn’t tell you that shoko will likely just hand him another bottle of cough medicine and send him back to the dorms to sleep it off. he doesn’t mention that you probably need the sleep more than he does. 

instead, he simply smiles, murmuring a soft, “salmon,” beneath his breath before he allows himself to relax, finding solace in the crook of your neck. 

OKKOTSU YUUTA groans, nuzzling himself closer against your couch cushions. his throat scratches every time he swallows and the world spins each time he opens his eyes. his body aches with every movement he makes as he kicks his blankets off, letting the fabric fall into a heap at the corner of the couch. 

you chuckle softly as you make your way into the living room, sliding into the seat beside him. “how are you feeling, yuu?”

“like death.” his worlds slur together in his sleepy state; syllables mush into one until you can barely comprehend the words escaping his lips. his skin is flushed, stained a light pink from his still-ongoing fever.

yuuta raises his head, tired, dark eyes finally meeting your gaze. “i can’t believe i got sick.”

“i’m sorry, honey,” you hum, reaching over to rub your hand against his back. yuuta shivers at the feeling, further relaxing against your touch. his eyes flutter shut; stray strands of ink black hair framing his sharp features. “just focus on getting some rest, okay? you’ll feel better in the morning.”

yuuta grumbles quietly, but relents nonetheless. your hands slip underneath the thin fabric of his shirt. your fingertips rub miscellaneous shapes against his skin, gently massaging the tension away from his shoulders. a soft smile lingers on yuuta’s lips as he sighs, finally falling back into sleep’s familiar embrace.

taglist (open! send an ask/dm to be added): @sunoooism @vamxpi @sad-darksoul @kamote-kuneho

if you liked this fic, please consider leaving a like, comment, feedback, or rebloging !! and if you want to support me, check out my jjk masterlist <33

[planetaryupscaled]

The Bet

Male OC x Tzuyu

Tags: 1k, smut

The story is not ours; we simply alter the original story to our preferred settings.

Tzuyu was sitting in the deserted communal lounge, her face buried in a book. She wasn’t, technically, hiding. That would have gone against the rules.

She was just getting some alone time without all those hands running aimlessly over her body, fingertips trailing her figure and peering beneath her garments, lips and teeth caressing and nibbling every inch of her skin...

Her cheeks flushed, and she felt scorching hot in the oversized sweatshirt she was wearing. She bit her lip and sighed.

The words on the page she had been reading and re-reading for the last ten minutes without really understanding the meaning blurred, as she became engrossed in her thoughts once more, still puzzled as to how she had gotten up in that situation.

A shy, prudish, inexperienced freshman like her was playing with fire. Or worse, with the rampaging hormones of a bunch of college boys.

She made a lighthearted, drunken mistake, but she was paying its price with her body and no end in sight.

Betting with her buddies while inebriated sounded innocuous, and she was confident it wasn’t anything they were going to follow up on anyhow.

But she was wrong - dreadfully wrong.

It was all a game in her eyes. And she was pretty sure she was going to win at the time. But she lost, and the guys eagerly demanded their prize.

She had turned into a real-life sex doll for them: she had to let them touch her body, grab, and grope her as they liked, and offer herself whenever they wanted.

This was her retribution for being so irresponsible and stupid. Worst of all, she was beginning to like it, even though she would never say it out loud.

She had been feeling so dirty and depraved. Tzuyu had only had one previous boyfriend, her high school beau, and she’d never experienced sex or pleasure.

And now, whenever a hand reached for her, a small bolt of electricity would rip through her body, giving her shivers and stealing her breath. Being forcefully exposed in front of others was humiliating, but it gave her sensations she had never expected to feel.

Even though the guilt and shame were eating at her, her body was sending her new signals and feelings that she had never experienced before.

She was drawn sharply back to reality when she was pulled back by her hair.

Electricity coursed through her as she saw two dark eyes upside down, mischievously staring at her.

“Did you plan on staying hidden for much longer? We were worried by your sudden disappearance...” Hyeon inquired, keeping her head tilted and caressing her throat.

His fingertips were ice cold, but her skin felt like it was burning under his touch.

“I had to study. You know, exams...” she mumbled, while he played with the sweatshirt zip, loosening it. His hand crept under, reaching for the bra.

Hyeon cupped his hand around her breast and began massaging it. He let her hair go and did the same with the other hand.

“I see,” he said quietly, “then go ahead and read. I’ll help myself.”

Her vision blurred when he gently pinched and twisted her nipples. She was embarrassed by who she had become, but she couldn’t bring herself to stop it. She wasn’t even sure if she wanted to put a stop to it.

Tzuyu sighed as she felt a twitch in her womb. She closed her eyes and leaned against Hyeon’s body, allowing him easier access to her. Against her neck, she could feel already the bulge in his pants.

She blushed again, both from her thoughts and from his gentle touch on her skin. She could feel she was getting wet.

Hyeon drew his hands away from her sweatshirt after what seemed like an eternity. As he leaned over her, he reached for her skirt. He unceremoniously lifted it, revealing her underwear. He slid the fabric to the side, A light touch on her labia made her moan.

“You’re such a slut Tzuyu, you’re already wet...” he chuckled as he gently stroked her.

He pushed two fingers into her warmth, provoking her another moan. She held her breath and widened her eyes as she grabbed his wrist with both hands.

Jisung and Suho were sitting on the desk on both her sides; she hadn’t noticed their presence. They were stroking their erections through their shorts while enjoying the little show.

They laughed as she violently blushed and tried to cover herself. Jisung smiled, bending over to grab her cheeks and kiss her, pushing his tongue into her mouth and sucking her lips.

“Come on baby, stand up,” Hyeon said, pulling his fingers out of her and grabbing her arms.

He pushed her against the desk, ignoring her weak protests and whining. Her hair covered her face completely, blocking her view. She could hear the other two guys unzipping their shorts and the light clank of their belts hitting the ground.

Several hands caressed her skin and lifted her clothes to reveal her body. Someone took her wrists and pressed them against her back.

As fingers grabbed the hem of her undies and pulled them off, she bit her lower lip and held her breath.

A hand caressed and squeezed her buttocks, followed by a slap. As she tried to wiggle out from underneath the guy who was blocking her, she was hit with a harder slap that took her breath away.

“Stop squirming or you’ll hurt yourself,” Jisung said, pulling her head up by her hair. Her gaze met his as she groaned beneath his hands. He kissed her once more, firmly holding her head. While Jisung’s tongue was playing with hers, someone gently rubbed his sex on hers. He pushed his way through her soaked labia and inside. Her moans got lost in Jisung’s mouth, which was still devouring her lips.

The third person let go of her wrists and grabbed one of her hands, pressing it against his erection.

Tzuyu noticed it was Suho masturbating with her hand. She gave in to his grip, wrapping her fingers around his hardness and letting him guide her. Jisung let her mouth and head go, and Hyeon grabbed her by the hair, pushing his length deep into her.

Jisung then kneeled on the desk and presented her with his member, stroking it on her cheek, and lips. She disclosed them and welcomed him, clasping her semi-closed eyes in his as he entered her warm mouth slowly. Hyeon’s tight grip on her head guided her rhythm as her tongue twisted around his girth.

It was the first time they pulled something like that on her, she had never been taken by more than one person at the same time.

Tzuyu thoughts were clouded by pleasure.

With each thrust in her mouth or sex, electricity scurried through her entire body. Her desperate, rising moans were suffocated in her mouth.

Hyeon let go of her hair, which was replaced by Jisung’s grip, and groaning sank his fingers into the soft skin of her hips.

She tilted her head, her senses dulled and inebriated, as they both went faster and deeper. Shivers ran down her spine, and a tingling warmth propagated through her like wild, uncontrollable waves.

Hyeon came into her depths and collapsed on her back. His skin was warm and sweaty, his breathing heavy.

Then it was Jisung’s turn, who came into her mouth, pressing her head against his groin while his throbs slowed and he softened, slipping off her lips.

Suho let go of her hand and rushed for her.

He rolled her over, moved her to the edge of the desk, and positioned himself directly above her head.

Then bent over her and plunged his erection into her mouth.

Tzuyu grasped his thighs, overwhelmed, her mind empty of all but bliss.

One of the guys parted her legs and buried his face in her, holding on to her knees.

Two hands completely unzipped her sweatshirt and reached for her breasts, squeezing and pinching her nipples.

She was totally helpless, which really just heightened her arousal. Her body was stiffening and twitching as tension built up within her.

The guy eating her, bit her labia, ascending to the clit, then circled it with his tongue, first gently caressing it, then with frantic strokes that left her screaming and squirming under his mouth. He firmly gripped her thighs, lapping and sucking her and pushing her over the edge.

When she thought she couldn’t bear it any longer, he slid two fingers into her, moving them slowly.

Her orgasm burst violently, her back arched, and every inch of her body shivered, pervaded by a tickling ecstasy that released her tension.

Suho came soon after, filling her mouth once again.

She stopped shaking after a good minute or two. She could feel her heart rate lowering, but she kept her eyes closed.

She was feeling warm and fuzzy. She didn’t want to face yet the actuality of what had just occurred.

The three guys were busy pulling up their pants and composing themselves.

to meet the three pleased stares. Tzuyu quickly shut her legs and tried to put back her hoodie, embarrassed.

Jisung seized her hands and held her back.

“Don’t bother covering, cutie; no one else is here. Even if that were the case, anyone would have adored the show.” He reached for her mouth and kissed her.

“When is this prize thing going to end?” she sighed, as she sat on the desk.

“Oh, you don’t like it?” Suho joked as he buckled his belt. “ You seemed to be having a good time two minutes ago.”

She blushed again, looking away.

“It will end when we unanimously decide that the payback for the lost bet is adequate, obviously. And I’m sure tonight at least a couple of gentlemen will be interested in discussing with you what just happened, so don’t go and hide again,” Hyeon added.

He gave her a wry grin and a nonchalant nod before heading out of the room, followed by Jisung and Suho.

Tzuyu was alone again.

The sun had begun to set, and the communal lounge was getting darker.

She retrieved her underwear and put it on.

Her mind was a whirlwind of feelings and thoughts. She was heated and out of breath. She couldn’t understand why she would enjoy the whole bet and prize thing; it was so wicked and dirty. It wasn’t like her, to do things like this, but she couldn’t bring herself to end it.

Tzuyu knew she could demand they stop at any point, and if they refused, she could simply go talk to the student representative. They’d be in big trouble.

But perhaps she just didn’t want it to stop.

She sat at the desk, her head buried in the soft sleeves, until it was completely dark, with just the streetlamps from outside shedding some light on the walls through the large windows.

She took a deep breath and smiled, wondering who would be the first to take her that evening.

[dnpbeats]

all of the old screenshots that phil would post of his skype convos with dan make me want to scream and rip my hair out and die like the fact that he wanted to document it but also the fact that i'm sure he only shared a fraction of the screenshots that he took. and this was before they were even together. but he wanted to document his time with dan even when they were just friends bc he meant that much to him like damn 😭😭

[urhoneycombwitch]

just thinking of artist!eddie x muse!reader meet cute. cw reader dresses femme in this

“um… excuse me? pardon me. you can’t be touching that.”

Eddie spins to see someone walking across the room towards him (a very hot someone. in clicky heels and a tight black skirt that shows off a gorgeous slip of thigh.)

holding a clipboard against one waist, you point at him with your work-supplied ballpoint pen, sounding lightly flustered but firm all the same- “sorry, it’s just- you can’t touch the art. I know there’s no red rope around here, but not touching the artwork at a gallery, that’s kinda… just courtesy.”

Eddie takes his hand from the now-straightened framed photograph, then spreads his hands in a placating gesture, sheepish and charming smile fixed on you. “sorry-“ his eyes flick down to your name badge, and he says your name in that husky voice, “-must’ve gotten mixed up, thought this was the petting zoo area.”

You snort, intending to let him off the hook with just a warning. then you tap your pen against your clipboard, trying to maintain a professional composure without drooling.

flicking up and down his frame, you take in the tight black ripped jeans, black vine tattoos curling out from a cut-off tank, over the milky expanse of his broad shoulders, alongside the veins running up and down his forearms. smattered with hair.

Eddie’s looking at you the same way. like he’s hungry. the attention calls to you, makes your spine perk up, a little flare of excitement kicking at your heart rate.

you take the bait. turn to the wall of art, point at one of the other frames just to fill the charged silence. “so! um. do you like this body of work? I think it’s the best in the series so far.”

Eddie crosses his arms, gives you a look that you can’t quite decipher- amusement? suspicion? hard to say. you’re tracing the ridge of his ear with your gaze, sunlight streaming through the main entrance windows glinting off the multitude of rings nestled there.

under your attention, Eddie’s preening, and also hoping you keep talking to him as long as possible so he can memorize the way your tits look in that blouse and paint ‘em from memory (😵‍💫) “fancy yourself an art critic? go on, sweetheart- I’d love to hear your take.”

and those doey eyes almost drive you to distraction !!! but you give a very genuine review of Eddie’s newest work (having no idea you’re flattering the artist in person), and he’s smiling by the end of your impassioned response.

“wow. sounds like you really like this artist.”

“I really do!”

“…and if this artist asked you for your number, you’d say yes, right? ‘cuz you like him so much?”

and he’s got that same sweet and silly smile from earlier, eyebrows raised. and when you realize, you’re mortified. bringing up the clipboard in front of your face to hide like “oh my god. you’re Eddie Munson. the artist. and I yelled at you for touching your own art!! why did you let me do that!!”

he laughs, hand over his heart, earnest- “no, don’t apologize! it was a huge ego boost for me, didn’t know they’d have such a beautiful personal bodyguard for my stuff. you gotta let me take you out for a drink as thanks for your service.”

and he does this dorky off balance bow low to the ground and you’re looking over the top of your board giggling. his humor is just your type and you fall for each other before round two of drinks after your shift that night (and fall into each others BEDS. ayooooo.)

[juleswritesstuff]

Saw a post that said "James' thighs are meant to be ridden" and, well...enjoy 🤭

JamesPotter x Reader

Warnings: smut

It was honestly so unfair.

They were there at anyone’s display, exposed, and under everyone’s eyes. Something that you would've liked to keep only for you, but you knew it would've been rather impossible.

And it was so fucking unfair. 

James' thighs were to die for.

They were plump and firm, muscle flexing with every movement as he ran on the pitch screaming orders to pass the Quaffle or informing his team mates on other strategies that might’ve been useful during the game. Inches and inches of soft, smooth and tanned skin that made your mouth water and your head spin. 

What did he need all those muscles for ?

He flew on a broom for Merlin’s sake, he didn’t need all of that.

“I really don’t know what you’re on about. There are some muggle athletes that have thighs twice as big as his, why are you drooling- oh my God Y/n, stop eyefucking him right now or so Godric help me”

Well, James was your boyfriend. You had every right to eyefuck him, thank you very much.

Apparently Marlene didn’t think the same things you thought when you even as much as caught the smallest glimpse of James’ delicious looking thighs clad in a pair of shorts during Quidditch practice.

And, well, she was right. His thighs weren't enormously big, you too had seen bigger, but they were muscular nonetheless. They were firm, and sturdy and they made you feel so good when they flexed just right and the perfectly smooth skin made contact with your crotch, sending bolts of pleasure down your spine and to your core.

Because, yeah, James wasn't stupid and he definitely noticed the way you gawked at him when he wore shorts or pants that were a bit more tight-fitting than usual.

The smirk on his face became even more mischievous, pleased even, when he felt your eyes on him.

“You know you can -ah, try if you want to, right ?” he asked you once.

He was sitting on his bed, dorm room empty, Sirius, Remus and Peter nowhere to be seen. You were plopped on his lap, one leg on each side, straddling him with your hands fisting his hair lightly, just how you knew he liked it, your lips slotted in a filthy kiss.

Tongues swirling and teeth biting teasingly as you rocked back and forth right on his taint, feeling the outline of his cock through his shorts, filling more and more with each roll of your hips.

He stopped just for a second, enough time to ask the question through broken whimpers.

“Try what ?” you asked back, taking his bottom lip between your teeth to nibble lightly, swiping your tongue on it right after.

He didn't answer, apparently too lost in the gentle friction of your groin against his, but not lost enough to not be able to grab your waist gently, lifting you up like you were deadweight, and maneuvering your position until you were straddling his left thigh, rather than his waist.

As soon as you sat on it fully a moan ripped through your mouth.

Oh, that felt delicious.

The firm flesh and tight, flexed muscles making contact with your core made your eyes roll.

You still had your underwear on, not even able to fully undress as soon as your mouth connected with James’, but if it felt that good with fabric in the way, even though fine and now completely drenched, you couldn't even imagine how it would feel if that little piece of cloth disappeared.

Just the idea made your insides melt.

So, logically, you took your panties off as fast as you could.

And so did he with his boxers.

When your bare core made contact with the tanned skin you almost came on the spot.

You started to rock back and forth without even realizing it, shocks of pleasure traveling through your whole body.

“Fuck, baby look at you” James let out in a breath, his voice less whimpery, but still strained. His eyes were adoring and veiled with lust.

“How-oh, fuck, how did you know ?” you asked, your arms resting on his shoulders for support and your head tilted back after a particularly good flex of his muscle made you see stars, broken moans falling off your lips.

“You're as subtle as a Bludger in the face, love” he said with an airy laugh that died on his throat as soon as your knee came in contact with his cock, now rock-hard and leaking pre-cum.

You wet your lips unconsciously.

Oh, to feel that familiar weight in your mouth as your head bobbed up and down slowly, teasing him with your tongue.

Another time.

“Am I ? And here I thought I was being discreet” you said, the sarcasm in your tone broken by the little sounds of pleasure that kept rolling out of your mouth.

You couldn't help it, it felt so good.

He felt so good.

“I could feel your eyes all over me, my legs and my ass. So much about being-shit, discreet” 

“It's not my fault -ah, fuck, do that again please, you're built like a goodamn statue, Jamie”

“Oh, am I now ?” he asked teasingly, but he couldn't keep a string of low groans from escaping his throat.

“You know you are, stop acting all coy” you said in a whisper after a particular roll of your hips had hit just right, exactly where you needed it.

He pulled you closer to him and started to kiss your shoulder, your collarbone, your neck, every fucking centimeter of your body until he reached your lips and he dived in like a starved man.

“You're the one who looks majestic, baby” he whispered directly on your mouth, your lips still touching “fuck, look at you. Riding my thigh so well. Tell me, why didn't we do this sooner ? How could you deprive me of such a sight ? I know you wanted to baby” he started to stroke his cock lazily, his eyes taking in your figure as you moved sinfully.

His words made you moan again, and again.

His hands on your hips guiding you gently as you rocked back and forth slowly, trying to drag the pleasure as much as you could.

“I- it was embarrassing” you cried in a whimper when his mouth latched to one of your nipples, sucking gently, tenderly, before grazing lightly with his teeth, making you hiss.

“Didn't want to make a fool of myself, if you said no” you explained as rationally as you possibly could with the amount of pleasure you were feeling.

“As if I could ever say no to you, Y/n. You know I'll do anything you ask me, baby. I would crawl on the floor right fucking now if you wanted me to” he breathed right on your skin, eyes hazy and filled with lust, but still glued to yours.

“Would you ?” you asked as your hands found place through his hair, tugging lightly, cradling dark brown locks between your fingers. Your hips were still moving relentlessly, swaying in a sultry rhythm that made your veins fill with fire.

“You know I would. I’d do anything for you” he said before kissing you again, till both your lips were red and bruised and you were in dire need of oxygen.

“Ah, fuck. Of course you would, you’re such a good boy, aren’t you ?” you said with a grin and in seconds you got to witness James’ expression crumbling, eyes wide and mouth agape as a sob fell out of his gorgeous lips.

“Holy shit, you know how that gets me, baby” he said, breathless. The grip on your hips tightened slightly.

Of course you knew. His eagerness for praises never went unnoticed by you.

“Do you know why I love to say it so much, Jamie ?” you asked as you stopped moving on his thigh only to get back to you initial position, right over his now completely filled out cock.

You took it in your hand delcatly, stroking lazily, feeling the velvety soft skin and the little veins scattered along his length.

He hissed through his teeth and looked at you with pleading eyes.

“Why ? he asked in a broken moan as you kept moving your hand up and down.

When you stopped, it was only to hover right above him, aligning his length directly at your entrance.

Then you tipped forward, lips directly on the shell of his ear.

“Beacuse when I say it you always fuck me so good that i’m barely able to think” you whispered, and after a second you were sitting fully on his cock, bottoming out head to base.

He let out a groan and threw his head back banging it to the wall, but he didn't seem to feel the pain, probably because your slick warmth was all he could think about at the moment. His head was spinning, his breath ragged and he couldn't even form a coherent word.

You rolled your eyes, feeling all of him inside of you. The tip of his cock buried so deep inside you that it caressed your cervix with every single breath he took.

“Fuck-fuck, you’re so fucking tight you’re squeezing me, love” he said once his brain started to, barely, work again. 

You took a couple more seconds to adjust and get used to the, much more than welcome, intrusion, but, not even a moment after, you started to sway your hips again.

The breath got knocked out of your lungs, your eyes rolled back so far in your skull that, if you weren’t literally fucking yourself on the best dick you had ever taken, you would’ve been concerned.

James’ hands found home on your ass, gripping so hard you were sure there would've been bruises by the next day.

A souvenir you were eager to see.

You bounced up and down mercilessly.

The coil in your belly started to grow stronger and stronger.

But your legs were tired, almost ready to give out and you let out a broken sob at the thought.

But James, wonderful, amazing, handsome, sexy James knew you like the back of his hand and he noticed.

Of course he noticed.

In a heartbeat hands were on your hips, stilling your movement. You wanted to protest. You wanted to tell him that you couldn't stop now. He’d been such a good boy letting you ride his thigh, he deserved to come.

You couldn't even utter a word before James’ hips snapped up and he was buried deep inside of you again, filling you up and leaving you breathless.

“It’s ok, baby. I got from here” he said in a whisper before he started pounding inside of you like a ficking machine.

His thrusts were hard and deep, making you see stars, planets and entire galaxies.

Your brain was foggy, clouded with lust and the sounds of your and James’s moans blended together.

“James-Jamie” you whimpered. You were close, you were so close you could feel it in your veins, the fire getting so hot, scorching even.

You just needed- 

“Come baby, you’ve been such a good girl for me” 

The coil in your tummy snapped, your brain went blank and a drowned out moan fell from your lips as your head tilted back in the most breath-taking of pleasures.

James got his release too. Thick ribbons of white painting your insides as you helped each other ride out your orgasms.

You surged forward to kiss him lazily, languidly, without a care in the world. You nibbled at his lower lip, always so plump and inviting and he let out a soft chuckle.

“Merlin, you really like sucking on my lips” he said, bumping his nose with yours in a cute gesture.

“I like to suck on a lot of things of yours” you mused with a grin. His eyes widened a bit and you could feel his cock twitch, suddenly interested again.

“Shit, baby, you can't say things like that when I'm still inside of you” he groaned in a pained voice, burying his head in the crook of your neck.

“So, no round two ?” you asked, acting all innocent, but you had a smirk on your lips that he, still hiding on your collarbone, couldn't see.

He lifted his head so fast that you were afraid he would've broken his neck.

“Aren't your legs tired ?” he asked, while tucking a strand of your hair, messy and a bit matted thanks to him, behind your ear, stroking your cheeks with the pads of his fingers while he was there.

“Oh, yeah. I can't even feel them anymore thanks to you, your amazing thighs and your glorious cock” 

He laughed, tipping his head back with a smile that could outshine the sun.

Warmth spread inside your chest and the corners of your lips turned up, mirroring him.

“My ‘glorious cock’ huh ?” he said, his shoulders still shaking with laughter “is it that good ?” he asked, lifting an eyebrow with a cheeky grin.

You bent forward, kissing his lips sweetly.

“The best” you whisper right on his mouth.

“Just my dick ? Nothing else ?” he questioned, his hands on your hips as his thumbs drew imaginary circles on your skin and his eyes flicked to you with a mischievous glint.

“Ah, and your thighs of course. How could I forget ?” you said, teasing him.

You really hadn't noticed, but he kept his glasses on the whole time. That meant that he got to savor every single blissed-out roll of your eyes, bit of your lips, scrunch of your eyebrows, and mouth parted in pleasure.

It honestly made you a little giddy inside.

You laughed when a pout appeared on his beautiful features.

“You're not funny, you know ? I knew you just wanted me for my body” he said, but his little smile was teasing and it started to get bigger and bigger.

“I actually wanted you for your ‘O’ in DADA, but, sure, that works too” you said teasing further.

“What ?!” he asked, actually bewildered “really ?!”

You rolled your eyes, fondness gushing out from all your pores.

Merlin, why did he have to be so cute ?

“No, James. I love you because you're one of the best people I know. You're nice, funny, charismatic, smart -well that only sometimes- and you have the biggest heart. You're good. You're so good, baby. Your smoking hot body and you're incredible ability to fuck me stupid are just bonuses” you said as your hands cradled through his hair softly.

Then you left a kiss on his cheek, on his nose, his temple, the high part of his cheekbone, until you reached his lips where he proceeded to melt.

He wrapped his arms around you and brought you closer, seeming to forget that he was still balls deep inside of you.

You let out a small hiss as you shuddered at his little movement.

"Careful, baby. Sensitive” you said a bit breathy.

“Fuck, sorry. I'm sorry, love. Do you want me to-”

“Don't you even dare move” you told him, keeping him close to you. Arms looped around his neck as you faced him.

A confused frown settled on his forehead.

“I don't wanna go yet. I like staying like this” you confessed. Your fingers ran all over his face, tracing every nook and angle.

The corner of his eyes, his brows, his nose, cheeks. And finally his lips.

“But your legs-”

“Oh, don't worry, they’re just a bit numb. After we catch our breath a little, I want you to make them fucking shake” 

He stilled for a second, and then he was on your lips again ,hungry and even more eager than before, placing a kiss on them after every word.

“You” kiss “are” kiss “so” kiss “goddamn” kiss “perfect”.

Let's just say your ability to walk was severely compromised for a couple of days.

[delirious-donna]

tw: NSFW, talk about body hair, suggestive

You weren’t sure why you were so surprised, it made perfect sense when you really thought about it. Yet, it still came as a shock the first time you saw Kakashi naked, and the happy trail that snaked below his belly button down to the thicker thatch of coarse but neatly trimmed hairs at the base of his cock was as equally silver as the hair on his head.

“Uhh… is everything okay?” Kakashi stammered, rubbing at the back of his neck with that slightly concerned smile of his.

His voice broke your reverie, heat bloomed across your skin at how openly you had been staring at his body without speaking. The kisses you had been sharing paused whilst your brain tried to process something that shouldn’t have interrupted you so badly. The twitch of his cock made you jump, nervous laughter rumbling in the chest you were leaning against.

“S-sorry. I just wasn’t expecting… didn’t think you’d be—uhm.”

A calloused finger and thumb captured your chin, lifting your gaze from his impressive abdominals and the girth of his dick that continued to bob under your inspective stare. Kakashi’s other hand found yours and slowly moved it to the heat of his skin, the velvet softness was pleasant against your palm, fingers curling around him to stroke leisurely.

Kakashi moaned. His charcoal eyes slowly sliding shut whilst you explored the newness of this whole situation. Your fingertips traced the veins that stood proudly against his shaft, the pad of your thumb messily playing with the sticky beads of precum that escaped his slit. “Didn’t think what?”

His voice was strained, thick with desire and it made you cuddle in closer to his form. With your clothes still on and his scattered across the bed, this felt naughty in a way you had never experienced. Your thighs clenched together, the feel of your clothing rubbing at your skin had you wishing to rip at them, or more so that he would.

“Didn’t think your hair down here would be… would be the same colour,” you admitted bashfully, met by a bark of laughter that had you huffing and pouting.

Without warning, Kakashi grasped at your hips and rolled you on top of him. Your hands shot up and out to brace palms at either side of his face, a face that was alight with humour and mischief. Those pretty eyes twinkling with mirth at your admission.

A palm pressed between your shoulder blades to bring you closer to him, warm lips kissing away your sullen little pout with ease. You could feel his cock sandwiched between your bodies, his hips moving so he was thrusting softly against your clothed stomach.

“Here I thought you were going to compliment my size…”

“Kakashi!”

“A guy can dream,” he chuckled quietly, nipping playfully at your bottom lip. “For the record, what colour did you expect my body hair to be?”

It was a question you didn’t know how to answer, because honestly, what had you expected? Your face warmed even more, failing to meet his eye once again.

“Silly girl…” he teased when you didn’t reply. “I think it’s high time I become familiar with what colour you are down there, don’t you?”