#so I think there's an instinct to keep something at arms length

[variousqueerthings]

@autistic-puffin i feel like i have nothing more to say about go2, like I excised my thoughts in one go 😭 especially considering it feels like so much meta/art has already been posted

(EDIT: AND THEN I WROTE THOUGHTS)

my main thoughts are also maybe a teensy bit hot take, because I'd assumed it was going to be a bit like certain narratives that are quite popular on here, but don't really do it so such for me, because they don't ground their queerness in anything substantial or they try to, but aren't informed enough to do it well (I admire the attempt and I have nothing against these pieces, I just don't personally enjoy them) and so it's more about the shipping or the memeable moments and that's not really what I get into things for

and it being disingenuous to fold it under narratives that are willing and fun enough, but ultimately made by people who haven't done toooo much work around queer themes before and fall (in my opinion) a bit for the simple narratives of "everything ultimately has to have stakes that aren't too high and play nice and don't distress their audience too much lest fragile LGBT+ people can't handle it" <- sweet narratives, easy to follow, a tad too candyfloss and ungrounded for my taste, often unbalanced in its comedy-to-drama scales and undermining sincerity by solving things too quickly and/or with too little delving into what these things mean

neil gaiman and john finnemore have been writing queer characters and themes for some time, and david tennant/michael sheen have played queer characters before (and heck, david tennant has at least one queer kid), it's not so surprising that this narrative actually isn't as mass-appeal as was assumed it was going to be before coming out (heh, coming out)

and by mass-appeal I don't mean that it doesn't have mainstream attention, but that there's seemingly confusion about what it's doing, when if you're into stories about non-conformity vs oppression (in this case mainly through a queer lens) it's pretty obvious, and I'm assuming very rewarding on subsequent watches

it's not fluff -- fluff works better for me in fanfiction than in original works, it's not aimless -- either in direction or in theme, it's not mainstream queerness -- although nina and maggie kind of have that "LGBT-unburdened-by-reality" kind of thing that I often don't vibe with, they're a part of three narratives about connection that ultimately ground queer non-conformity in action and feeling as explicitly dangerous to oppressive systems (in this case systems grounded in Christianity, which works very well)

there's a confusion in some reviews I've seen in the mainstream about why it matters that we follow these characters through thousands of years (well, millions technically, but the main thrust happens in the thousands), and coming to the conclusion that it's just because everyone's having a bit of fun, and then they're totally blindsided by the final 15mins and unable to place it in what they've watched previously

but it makes perfect narrative sense and I can pinpoint after one watch clues and foreshadowing leading to those final minutes, and why it matters that we follow the characters the way that we do, and (while I won't go too much into this because I think I'm late to the party and plenty of others have already spoken about it) threads that have been laid out that will clearly be picked up on in s3

I quite enjoy that this is a narrative about queerness that isn't so palatable to reviewers, and isn't for that matter so palatable to viewers who are used to measuring successful queer narrative via easy-to-follow tropes, I think that's one suggestion that it's done its job right in how it was constructed

I want especially straight mainstream reviewers to have to do the translation and if they can't, then it's not for them. that's a rarity in queer narrative that's released with so much attention and that also feels like part of the magic trick of the season -- am reminded of when black sails season 2 "revealed" that flint was queer and that this was a narrative centred around queer rage as an insight into other forms of oppression (which some things were done better than others of course, but that was the purpose, and madi really is that voice at the end!)

and how some straight dudebro fans felt cheated, while many queer viewers went... well yeah, obviously flint was queer, they signposted it (here I also note that some queer viewers didn't see it until that moment because we're also used to being signposted at and then not having follow-through because queercoding language is so ubiquitous to tv and film writing nowadays that many straight people don't know what it is or that they're doing it, or they went "hey we might do something queer winkwink" and then called fans disgusting for reading characters as queer ✌)

and that feeling is somewhat similar here in a way. "we thought we were in this for a bit of silly fluff, what's all this about themes? it's confusing, we don't like it, we're going to flatten it rather than acknowledge what is actually happening in the narrative, and then we're going to interact with that flattened version that we've created instead and call it self-indulgent and harmlessly silly."

so my hot take is that... it's not silly. well it is silly and fun and even at times indulgent, but it's also quite good at being a story that is Queer in ethos, and I prefer stories to be queer in ethos and not just have some ostensibly queer characters around saying the right words without knowing why or where those words originate

it's better than it's being given credit for, in ways it's not being given credit for, because it's not made palatable for a mainstream straight crowd or softened for fear of upsetting anyone

[noneorother]

As a film person, this is the most f*cked up thing that happened in all of Good Omens

Forget about the final 15. If there's anything that should convince you that there's something really wack going on in season 2 of Good Omens it should be this cut. I literally gasped when I saw it for the first time. It's SO BAD from a technical perspective. Because you've probably been watching TV and movies your whole life, you might instinctively feel there's something weird happening with this cut, but not be able to put your finger on what it is.

I am here to tell you: they sacrificed continuity of action to *change the main character of the shot in the middle of the scene*. I won't do a full theory course on filmmaking here, but basically, when you want a fluid-feeling sequence of shots, especially when there's quite a lot of movement on screen, you have to conserve the direction and intention of that action to feel like it's all one take, and time is moving forward like we're used to in real life. Here, Crowley, Maggie and Nina all leave the Bookshop together, with Crowley and Maggie flanking Nina, who is centred in the shot. They are moving towards the camera as the camera is walking backwards, but at a slight curve camera-left. Crowley even turns his head and swings his arm left, making us feel like the camera will keep Nina center, and pan left or even cut wider to see more of the left of the street to watch them cross.

Well SURPRISE, idiots!

Forget everything you learned in film school because we're cutting immediately to a second medium length shot of the 3 characters from a slightly more camera-right perspective for no reason whatsoever, in the *opposite* direction of where the action is going, WHILE THAT ACTOR IS SPEAKING A LINE. This is so counterintuitive to the blocking of the scene that Maggie literally gets shoved out of frame while we're supposed to be reading her reaction to Crowley's dialogue. I can't stress enough how weird it is on a fundamental level. When a camera is moving and a character is talking, conserving continuity of action is THE ONE thing you don't sacrifice. It pulls people out of the moment, and makes it extra obvious that multiple takes have been stitched together. Which leads me to think that this is intentional, and sets up what I hinted to at the beginning of this whole "The More You Know" moment : Nina is the main character of the scene we're watching, until, suddenly, Crowley is. If you separated those two moments before and after the cut and watch them as two different scenes, you can see the camera following Nina and keeping her center before, but directly following Crowley and keeping him center *after* the cut. We've switched narrators in this moment. And to top it all off, they're making it pretty obvious that, while Nina is listening and reacting to both Crowley and Maggie, Crowley does not give a rat's ass about the two humans (not either not really in frame, or cut off behind him).

[fcthots]

Happy New Year!! I wish you the best of luck and prosperity in the New Year!

Have you thought about teasing Jason? Maybe making him read one of his favorite books out loud as you tease him til he can’t remember the words?

happy new year!!

Anon, you genius. I am a Jason loves teasing you truther, but I hadn't even considered the possibilities of you teasing Jason. And now that I am, he would not be able to take it for long. He would get so whiny and xhibedcd i have so many ideas for this, it's hard to pick one.

I'll proofread this later. <3.

It's not that Jason doesn't pay you enough attention, you take up 75% of his thoughts, but when Jason starts reading, it takes up all of his focus. It's damn near impossible to get his attention. Good thing you love a challenge.

When you walk into the living room, he's seated comfortably on the couch. A well worn book rests in his hands. He is so engrossed in it that he doesn't seem to notice your presence. You'll have to fix that.

"What are you reading?" He doesn't quite jump, but his eyes shoot up. There's something to be said about how he's so comfortable around you that his guards is completely let down. That does something to your insides.

"Just some poetry." It's such a vague answer that it piques your interest.

"What kind?" You step closer to him. His eyes track you.

"Some love letters. It's Letters to Milena by Franz Kafka." He'd spoken of the book before you think.

"Thinking about me while you read?" You climb onto the couch and straddle him. One of his hands moves to your waist on instinct.

His face dusts with a light blush. He doesn't respond, seemingly at a loss for words. You wrap your arms around his neck. He stutters for a moment, but never quite makes a full word. You smile. He's getting so riled up and you've barely done anything.

"Read it to me." His brows furrow and he fumbles with the pages. You dip your face into the crook of his neck and softly bite down. His breathing grows deeper and faster.

He stutters at first, struggling to find his place in the book. Eventually he finds it. "Yesterday, I advised you not to write me every day," You feel him grow hard beneath you, "I still hold the same opinion today and-"

You grind down onto him. His head tilts back, moving your face away from his neck, as he makes a sound between a whine and a moan. You lift your hips away from his and he opens his mouth to say something, but you speak first. "Keep going."

He nods obediently. His movements are shaky, pent up and nervous. "it would be very good for both of us," You drop your hips back onto his and he gasps, but doesn't stop, "and so I repeat my advice today even more-..." His voice trails off as your hand drops from his shoulder to down into your pants. He watches you with something akin to reverence as you slip the pants and underwear off together (with some difficulty). You drop them to the floor. Jason shudders beneath you. "Wait." His voice is whiny as he pants beneath you. "Please," one of his hands moves to the hem of your shirt and tugs, "take this off. Need to see you, please."

You start tugging it over your head. "Only if you keep reading." He nods vigorously and you unclasp your bra.

"Emphatically- only please," his voice hitches when display your tits in his face, you bring one hand to your chest and roll a nipple between your fingers, making a show of throwing your head back and pushing your chest towards his face with a breathy moan. "Milena," you grind against him and he stutters for a moment. You move the other hand back between your legs and begin to work yourself open, starting with two fingers, in and out. He continues and his hooded eyes watch your every move. He doesn't need to look at the book to know the words. "Don't listen to me, and write me every day anyway," you add another finger to your rhythmic motions that brush against his length, "it can even be very brief," you add in your pinky finger and Jason makes a pathetic little whiny sound that is music to your ears.

You undo the drawstring of his sweatpants and push them further down his thighs. Putting his book down, he shimmies his hips to help you get the pants down, as impatient as ever. As soon as he cock springs free, you urge him, "Keep going."

He watches, trying his best to keep talking, as you lift your hips and bring his tip to your folds. Your other hand staying occupied on your chest. His hands anchor themselves on your waist, "briefer than today's letters," he moans out as you begin to slightly push yourself down. He soldiers on, "just 2 lines," you slide down even more. You do your best to keep your own moans under control, you want to be able to watch him. You've worked yourself enough so he slides in easily, the stretch not painful. He feels good.

He can't form words while you take your time bottoming out on his cock. Once, you've sat your full weight on him, he can't tear his eyes away from where your bodies join. One of his hands slides down until his thumb reaches your clit. He's distracted, entranced, by you. You struggle to keep your composure. "Keep reading."

His eyes stay focused on his thumb as it circles your clit. "Just one," you move your hips up and snap them down. Pleasure blooms in your chest and you hear Jason curse and breathe faster. "Just one word," you find a rhythm moving up and down on his dick. His voice constantly wavers and he moans between words. "But if I had to go ah without them," the length between each word gets longer and longer as you move faster and faster and he gets closer and closer. He struggles to get even one word out.

"Finish it and I'll let you finish." You're getting close now too, his demeanor clearly having an effect on you. His thumb speeds up.

He nods, unable to hold himself back for much longer. "I would suffer terribly." He says the words fast, all in one breath as he begins to thrust up into you. You clench around him as he lets out a loud moan. You cum together as he spills out of you. His head tosses back and his thumb stills and he twitches through the last waves of his orgasm. You drop your head onto his shoulder and slouch against his chest. His arms curl around you and he kisses whatever skin he can reach. You legs burn and your knees ache, but you have nothing to be worried about. Jason will take care of you.

Also disclaimer! I have not read the book yet! I plan on getting it soon bc I've been wanting to read it for years, but have yet to read the full thing full so that's why it's undetailed.

[allur1ngs]

✮ the glasses stay on✮

tw: unedited, smut, oral--r!receiving, possessive!bada, a bit of jealous!bada, bada's a teeny bit mean (not rlly she says sorry right after), bada wears her glasses while she eats you out, bada eats it through your panties and uses your panties to get you off, pussy slapping...., panty stealing, sex in bada's office & on her desk, ass grabbing, risky sex--possibility of getting caught

a/n: ib this and this ask, this one has a bit of an intro before going straight into the smut, and once again i'm telling everyone to say ty to my wife @bebeyue bcs without her motivation i would not be writing this😚🩷

Tick tick ticking, every second that passes by winds into an endless staircase of lost time. Bada stares down at her Cartier wristwatch with a mix of distain and guilt.

The hour hand on the clock reminds her that it's five in the afternoon, and she's completed little-to-none of the high-stacking papers in front of her. Truly, it's not Bada's fault. Although she can usually sit in her office and read documents for hours on end with little difficulty--beyond the annoyance that settles in after the third or fourth hour--for some reason, today she simply can't will herself to pick up her black and gold fountain pen, and read or sign any paperwork.

"Something's off." She thinks to herself, slowly picking her gaze up from her watch and staring at the blotted black words in front of her. "There's something I can't seem to get my mind off of, but at the same time I don't know what I'm thinking about--"

Like divine and heavenly intervention, the answer comes to her in the form of a beautiful woman entering her office...you.

"Hope I'm not interrupting you." You quietly creep into Bada's office, with a smile. Your eyes, which had only swept over her quickly when you entered, now take in her full figure, which surprises you.

Rather than wearing her normal black suit jacket and tie, she's wearing a light blue button-up shirt with red and blue stripes running across it, and her hair is tied up into a ponytail braid, wisps of her long side bangs frame her face, making her face shape look sharper.

"You're looking extra good today." You comment, walking up to Bada's desk with your hands behind your back.

"Oh," your fiancée breathes, suddenly finding it hard to concentrate, Her eyes are fixated on your outfit, which is a cute blouse and a short skirt. The lack of fabric allows her to eye the creamy skin of your legs with a hungry gaze. "Thank you. I noticed it was hot in the morning so I decided to wear a looser shirt."

"Well I love it." You say cheekily. Walking around Bada's desk, she immediately scoots her chair back, making space for you to stand in front of her. "I brought you something, by the way."

Your words make Bada look up at you, to which you take your hands from behind your back and open your palm, revealing a pair of silver-framed aviator glasses.

"I couldn't find your usual glasses--"

"I broke them while out on a mission." Bada gives you a sheepish look.

"That explains it then." You laugh. "But that doesn't give you an excuse to not wear your glasses."

"I'm sorry." Bada pouts. She takes her spare glasses from the palm of your hand and puts them on, then suddenly wraps her arms around waist and pulls you into her, pushing her head into your midsection.

You let out an instinctive gasp, but place your hands on top of her head nevertheless.

"Let me make it up to you?" She mumbles into your shirt, dragging her hands from your waist to your ass, grabbing them roughly before she gives them a squeeze.

"Bada--" You exclaim, surprised at her lustful behavior. "Where is this coming from--?"

"I can't focus on my work." Your fiancée huffs. She starts to grope at your ass more, pressing her head against your stomach even more. "Especially not now that you've walked in with this short skirt."

Bada suddenly pulls her head from your midsection, but moves her hands back to your hips to keep you at an arm's length distance. She bunches up the fabric of your skirt, slowly raising it farther and farther up your thigh, until the bottom of your skirt just barely covers your panty-covered pussy.

You take in a sharp breath, your body reacting to her touch by shivering.

"Did you wear this on purpose?" Bada hums, toying with your skirt but never completely flipping it upward...yet.

"Like you said, it's hot." You whisper, placing your hands on her shoulders. "I wanted to wear something fresher."

"But did you have to wear such a short skirt?" Bada looks up at you, smirking as she finally flips up the fabric of your skirt, revealing your panties, which are noticeably damp. "Oh, what's this?" She says, her voice low and cocky. She drags her finger up and down your slit, making more slick pool against the lace of your panties.

"Bada...we shouldn't." You whisper, but your body and heart betrays you. You start to roll your hips against your fiancée's fingers, hoping to get more pressure against your pussy.

"I don't know, it looks like you want it." Bada cocks her head to the side, hearing the way your breath hitches when she moves her fingers along your panties. "Do you want it? Do you want me to fuck you here, in my office, when any of the girls could walk in and see us?"

You gasp at her words, glancing at the door instinctively...but you don't stop grinding your hips against her digits.

Bada watches you with amused dark brown eyes. She huffs a laugh, "Do you like that idea? You want to get caught by the girls and let them see how promiscuous you are?"

You hesitate to answer, far too embarrassed to speak your mind--

"Say something." Bada pulls her fingers away from pussy, staring up at you with domineering look.

"...I--I don't want to get caught." You breathe, lies staining your tongue.

"Really?" Bada's voice pitches upwards in doubt. "Are you lying to me?"

You look away from your fiancée in shame. "N--"

"You know I don't like it when you lie." Bada suddenly uses her strength to push you down on her spread legs, making you let out a surprised noise. "But either way, it doesn't matter. I won't let anyone see you like this, whether you want them to or not."

She takes ahold of your legs and makes sure they're wound tightly around her waist. She starts to drag her chair closer to her desk until your ass is against it, then she pushes you down until your back lays on the desk.

Bada looks down at you, splayed across her desk like an angel--a sinful, debauched angel--but an angel no less. Her mind, which had once been foggy immediately clears into one single, concise thought. "I need her."

Bada leans down to capture your lips in a heated, and passionate dance. It's all tongue--your teeth clash against each other as your fiancée swirls her tongue against yours. At the same time, she pulls at your shirt, only breaking away from your lips to rasp out, "Take it off," in a demanding tone.

You stare into her eyes for a split second before you sit up, taking the ends of your shirt, lifting it upward, and off of you. You're left in only a bra, which makes Bada hiss in satisfaction.

She presses another kiss on your lips, laying you back down on the desk once again, before she begins her descent downwards.

Bada moves under your skirt, and hoping to give her more access you try to remove it, but she immediately stops you.

"Don't." She says, using one of her hands to pin down both of yours. "I like it." She smiles, taking the fabric between her fingers and rubbing it. "You look so pretty in it."

You don't fight against your fiancée, you allow her to touch you through your panties, cruelly giving you the mildest amount of pleasure so that you release slick, but aren't satisfied.

"Bada, you're being mean." You huff, wrapping your legs around her head in hopes of pushing her head closer to your cunt.

"I know." She says cheekily. "But you lied to me, so I think I'm going to have some fun with you."

And have fun she does.

Bada latches her mouth onto your panty-covered pussy in a sudden surge forward. She laps her tongue up and down your slit, just barely rubbing against your clit which makes you let out a loud, blissful sigh and half moan.

She rubs her nose against your folds--the combination of glass and silver frames of her aviators are cold--the temperature difference in comparison to your hot pussy makes it clench around nothing. Bada quickly flattens her tongue as she continues to practically slobber all over your panties. Your juices and her saliva ruin the lace, making them a sopping wet mess.

You start to let out increasingly loud moans, even the simplest of Bada's touches making you cry out for more.

"You're being so loud." She mumbles into your pussy. The words rumble against your skin, which gives you muffled pleasure. "I'm starting to think you really do want us to get caught."

You toss your head to the side, looking away from her. "I-I don't."

"There you go again." Bada tuts. She pulls away from your pussy and grabs the edges of your panties. She brings both sides together, creating a thin line of lace that she uses to rub against your clit. The action gives you a delicious amount of pleasure, your mouth falling open as a loud moan leaves your lips. "Do you enjoy lying to me?"

Up and down she moves the lace, using her fingers to separate your folds so she can properly see the way your pussy clenches, pulses, and releases endless amounts of slick.

"Should I make you cum like this? Make you fucking cum all over your panties as punishment?" Her tone takes a stern pitch, the sound of it making you wetter, but at the same time nervous.

"No." You protest, shaking your head side to side. "Please--"

Bada's strong composure shatters at your whines. She can't help but wear a fond smile as she looks down at you, small tears of frustration building in the corner of your eyes. "Don't cry, honey." She cooes, placing her thumb under your eyes to wipe away to clear droplets. "I'm sorry baby, I'm not mad at you. I'll make you feel good--always."

You sniffle a bit, but start to steady your breathing--wide eyes blown as you turn your head to place a kiss on the palm of her hand, silently saying, "I know."

Bada gives you one last fond look before she drags her nose down your stomach, until she reaches that sweet spot between your legs. Mesmerized, she leans down to collect your juices, moving your panties completely to the side to give her unencumbered access to your cunt. She presses her mouth up against it, her glasses bumping into the hood pussy. You watch with bated breath as she once again flattens her hot tongue, giving you one long lick before she dives right in.

Bada moves her head side to side along with her tongue, rubbing your clit deliciously. She catches the skin of your lips and sensually pulls them, then sucks hard on your pussy like it's a lollipop.

"Bada," you somehow manage to choke through your heaving breaths.

She hums against your cunt, the vibrations sending a wave of pleasure up your spine and throughout your entire body.

"Your glasses."

"What about them?" She says, briefly breaking away from your pussy.

"You're going to break them--" looking downward, you would have been able to see your fiancée is staring at you through the hoods of her eyes--her gaze is unwavering, confident, and hypnotic.

But you can't see her eyes because her silver aviator glasses are foggy. They're entirely marked with perspiration, Bada's hot breaths catching against the sticky glass and clinging to it like a lifeline.

Still, as alluring and sensual that image is, the nail in the coffin is the globs of your juices dripping from the edge of Bada's glasses. They come together around the middle of the frames until they make a large dot, then drop down onto your fiancée's pink lips, where she quickly darts her tongue out to lick your saccharine slick into her mouth.

"The glasses stay on." She asserts, giving you one last, unseeable look before she attaches her lips onto your pussy again.

It's ridiculous, really. If you're unable to see Bada's eyes through her glasses, then they were entirely useless sitting on the bridge of her nose--she most likely couldn't even see through them.

But nevertheless, she fucks her tongue into you, drives it in and out of your hole, licks and swirls your clit into her mouth until you're screaming in pleasure, her glasses foggy dripping with your essence as she makes you cum.

Sucking on you one last time, Bada finally pulls away at the sound of your broken whines. She lets out a long breath, a smile instantly forming on her lips as she uses the back of her hand to wipe away the remnants of your orgasm from her lips. She licks it all up like it's a valuable liquid--the elixir of life.

Only then does she take her glasses off--well, she hangs them from the unbuttoned collar of her shirt--as she leans forward, giving your cunt an affectionate slap.

You let out a cute "ouch!" then glare at your fiancée, who only laughs in response.

"Sorry, couldn't help myself." She says sweetly.

"I think you could have." You huff, moving to sit up from Bada's desk.

She chuckles under her breath, before quickly taking ahold of your panties and slipping them off your legs. "Thank you for that." She grins. "I think I can finally focus."

You can't help but laugh as well, "Okay, I'll get going then." You hold out your hand and give Bada an expectant look.

She only stares at you with a cheeky smile. "What?"

You furrow your eyebrows and push out your hand further. "My panties?"

"Oh, these?" Bada holds up your lace panties, her saliva and a mixture of your cum making it wad together into a dripping mess. "I think I'll keep them." She suddenly shoves them into her pocket, completely unbothered by the fact that they'll surely dampen the fabric.

"Bada!" You exclaim, your mouth falling open in shock.

"What, you wanted to wear them?" She smirks. "They're ruined." Taking a step forward, she looms over your figure still perched on her desk, and leans in to speak right into the shell of your ear. "Come find me in a few hours after I've finished my work, and maybe I'll think about giving them back."

taglist:

@aericrys, @somerandomtinyperson, @bluebada, @dallaji, @luvjanexx, @hyejuwu, @diana-rose-25, @jjlovesbada, @prilux, @youknow1234, @fae-the-wanderer, @mightymyo, @aein-tings, @badasgirlfriend, @onlyyou-metanoia, @wiselight, @badasoneandonly @multiliker, @badabonita, @randomhoex, @justaharmlesspotat0, @sporadicfacebasement, @4bada, @seungxstar, @urlovebot, @neuftaeng, @hyunsllvr, @aixicl, @itzmy, @badasgff, @mikaleialt, @tthe-dark-ssoul, @m0r0s1111, @phoxey, @taruusmoon, @lovebtsforever24, @moonsvrse

(if your name is crossed out i wasn't able to to tag you)

want to join the taglist? send me a message or comment saying you'd like to be on it (or be removed from it), and i'll do so immediately!

[ghouljams]

Hello Ghoul! I'm absolutely in love with your regency Au! 🥺 What do you think of -

After a night of dancing together, Price visiting the reader and their family, maybe disguising it as having a little accident a cut or something (previously mentioned that readers father is a doctor) and seeing that reader is really hardworking, with helping and/or taking care of their father.

Awwww just like in the 1870's au Price can be a little reckless when he knows it means he'll see his darling.

You hear your father laughing from his clinic and push a roll of bandages away from the edge of the shelf you're inventorying. It's nice to hear him having fun with a patient. So many people come in with horrible afflictions, you know it takes a toll on him. Your father's kindness is what made you want to go into medicine in the first place, he's leaving the world a better place, you'd like to do that too.

You wipe your hands on your apron and jot down your counts, making note of what you need to restock. There are a few tonics that you're running low on, one or two poultices that could use a refresh, and you're nearly out of the candied ginger your father is so fond of passing out to children complaining of stomach aches. You'll stop by the market later and see what you can find. You hear your name as you pass by the exam room and pause.

After a moment's thought you raise your hand to knock and are met by your father tugging the door open. He looks surprised to see you, but it only lasts a moment before he's smiling.

"Ducky!" He greets, "You have a patient." You blink at him. You don't get patients, as far as the people who come in are concerned you're a glorified nurse and not a physician's apprentice. Still, hearing him say that makes you giddy, joy bubbling in your chest like champagne. Your father squeezes your shoulders, a look in his eyes that you recognize immediately as pride. You do your best to look professional as you step out of the way and take his place in the exam room.

Price gives you a friendly wave as your father closes the door behind you. His smile is tight, pained, but warm. He's holding his arm close to his chest, and you focus on that instead of the way he asks, "Ducky?"

"A nickname," You tell him, moving closer to inspect his arm. Your fingers hover over him, and you glance at his face. "May I?"

"You're the doctor," He smiles, something in the way he says it makes emotion swell in your chest. You're the doctor, try to keep the smile off your face. He barely flinches when you prod at his wrist, feel over the length of his forearm, checking for breaks and sprains, then up to the elbow. He flexes when you touch his bicep and hisses out a curse, you smile to yourself.

"Try to stay still," You remind him, feeling past it for his shoulder. The pained groan he hums out is indication enough but you still give a quiet apology and test his range of motion. It doesn't take a doctor to tell he's dislocated his shoulder not when it sticks at that angle. You let him cradle his arm close again and go to find a sling for him. "How'd this happen?" You ask over your shoulder.

"Military exercise," He responds quickly, too quickly, "How'd you get the nickname?"

"Used to call my dad 'duck' because that's what everyone else called him." You hum, pulling a length of cotton cloth from one of the shelves against the wall, "They were calling him 'doc' but my mum says I was a little too excited when he started calling me that too, so the nickname stuck."

"Cute."

You shake your head and turn back to him, "Me or the story?"

"You," He doesn't flinch at that either. You think a man like John Price doesn't flinch for much, doesn't hesitate either.

"I'm going to be a lot less cute when I set that shoulder," You move closer and, as if on instinct, Price reaches for you. His good arm grabs for your hip, and you deposit the sling into his grasp. His fingers tighten around the cloth immediately, more easily swayed than you'd expected. You suppose the threat of oncoming pain would make anyone docile. "Lie back on the table," You direct him. He's already sat on the edge of it, so it's an easy move.

You help him lay his arm out straight, holding onto his wrist as you stand beside him. The last thing you want to do is further injure this man, but you can't do anything for the pain you're about to cause him. The only thing you can do is try to make it fast. Holding his wrist tight with both hands, you move his arm up and down, circling the joint slowly. You work his arm from rest to shoulder height, doing your best not to grit your teeth in sympathy at the next part; rotating his arm up over his head until the joint pops back into place. You've heard men shout when your father does this, the crack of bone slotting into position always signals the sharpest pain. Price only growls, low and displeased in the back of his throat, his eyes closed to the pain as a crack rings through the room.

You're gentle bending his arm back down over his chest, let him stay laying where he is while you take the cotton cloth from him and fashion him a sling. You tie it behind his neck, watching the rise and fall of his chest, admiring the curve of his mouth while his eyes are still closed. He grabs your wrist with his uninjured hand when you try to pull away, quick enough you don't have time to react. You look from his hand to his eyes, held in place by his gaze more than his grip.

"What happened to your arm Captain?" You ask again, though your voice feels softer, and you wet your lips when he doesn't immediately answer. His eyes leave yours only to follow the path of your tongue. His thumb rubs against the back of your hand, skin against skin. You don't wear gloves when you're working.

"You're beautiful," He answers so truthfully you feel heat pop across your cheeks like suddenly standing too close to a fire. He doesn't seem delirious, quite the opposite, his eyes are clear and his demeanor hasn't changed. He doesn't 'remember himself' or make any apologies for the remark when he answers you, again, "I wanted a reason to see you."

"You couldn't have waited for the next party?" You feel softer still, coaxed by the gentle swipe of his thumb, the insistent rub of his skin against yours. Improper, and lovely. He smiles, properly, in the way the makes his eyes crease.

"It wouldn't have been proper for you to set my arm at a party."

[kisakis-boyfriend]

Can't stop thinking about taking afab!mikeys virginity.. i wanna see his reactions to being eaten out for the first time and how he'd react if you didn't stop after he came and overstimulated him on that very first. god.

Pairings: Mikey x reader

Warnings: GN!reader, dom!reader, sub!Mikey, trans Mikey, eating out, overstimulation, worship, use of the term 'tdick'

Genre/Format: Smut; Oneshot

Please check my blog title to verify whether requests are closed or not! Thank you!

You swear that the person lying on your bed right now is an angel. A divine being sent from heaven itself, sent to grace you with his beauty and affection. You were dating an angel.

This celestial being lay here on your sheets, his head surrounded by a wavy halo, with those gorgeous eyes nervously trained on your face — searching for something to calm his nerves.

“Nervous?”

At this, Mikey shook his head. It was clear as day that he was, indeed, fidgeting with his sleeves as you stood above his delicate form; like a demon waiting to corrupt him, and strip away his innocence.

You were oh, so gentle with him, making sure that Mikey was comfortable before you even so much as kissed his lips. Physically, he was so far from being considered "fragile". He's the leader of a gang; very well respected and even feared by the smart ones. There wasn't any need to treat him like a glass sculpture—ready to crack into a million pieces from the slightest bump—and yet, here you were, trailing one hand down his side, to his hip, with all the care in the world. Like he was almost too precious to touch, even.

A hand between his legs had Mikey moaning into your mouth, squirming while you touched him for the first time. He became wet so, so easily. That wetness coated your fingers even through his underwear, urging you to break the kiss sooner, so that you might taste another part of your lover.

“God you're beautiful...” You breathed, while pulling Mikey's pants off to expose his entrance. His legs instinctively closed, clamping his thighs together so that you had to hold them apart if you wanted to have access to him.

Your lips connect with Mikey's thighs, pressing little kisses along the insides. They were so soft, but you knew that Mikey could probably suffocate you if he really wanted to — you've seen him fight before, and surely his thighs were rather powerful to allow him to move the way he does.

One look into his eyes as you ask him, “Ready?” and, with his confirmation, you delve down, connecting your tongue and his cunt. You start out slow, so as not to overwhelm your partner. Lapping at the sensitive area first, then pushing your tongue inside a bit.

Mikey's hips jerk the first time you suck his tdick, which soon turns into him trying to fuck your mouth with the length he has. It's adorable — the way his hips thrust up, almost mindlessly so, as your lover chases anything that makes him feel good.

Soon enough, Mikey's moans become more frantic; he's getting close. One hand flies down to your head, pushing you deeper into his heat. You take this as a signal to keep doing what you're doing; licking and sucking while Mikey bites his lip hard enough to make it bleed, eventually adding your fingers to help your partner get off.

With one adorable squeal, your lover cums in your mouth. His hips rise off of the bed and his hands fly up to grasp at the sheets-

“Mmmhaah!! Aah~ ” Mikey's eyes glaze over as the sound of his own panting fills his ears. Everything becomes hazy, until it registers in his mind that... you're still going at it.

Despite the intense first orgasm he just experienced; you haven't stopped eating him out yet. Your lips are practically suctioned onto his pussy.

When he realizes that you don't plan to stop anytime soon, Mikey tries to wiggle away, attempting to push your head back with his hand. All it takes is one arm to pin down his hips, the other to hold his wrist, and Mikey isn't going anywhere.

Fully intent on keeping your partner here until you're satisfied, you moan into Mikey's cunt, keeping up the assault until he can no longer do anything other than whimper and buck his hips pathetically.

After all; if you're lucky enough to pleasure an angel, why not get the most out of it?

[ssailormoonn]

─── ❛ NSFW Alphabet ❜

Uchiha Sasuke X fem!Reader

| NSFW | REQUEST? yes |

REQUEST; @enouche - Hi , you made a really good headcanons for Sasuke so I was wondering if you please can make a sfw or nsfw ( whatever you want) alphabet for him . <333

WC; 2k + | !MDNI! | TW/CW; Breeding, degradation, praise, begging + more

NARUTO/BORUTO MASTERLIST | MASTERLIST

A = Aftercare

I personally think that Sasuke wouldn't even know what aftercare is until you tell him about it. His reaction would be like, "That's a thing?" Don't think that Sasuke would do much for aftercare, but I know that he would hold you close to him as you are family to him, girlfriend or wife. Sasuke probably wouldn't take the time to help clean you up, I think he would value the time after having sex more than giving aftercare if that makes sense? Having your body close to his, knowing that you will not leave him matters so much more, he wouldn't want to leave you alone after sex, even if he seems distant after sex, he's just thinking about you in his arms.

B = Body part (his favourite about himself and you)

Well, Sasukes favourite body part for you would have to be your neck and chest area. He just loves to suck on the soft skin as he slowly thrusts into you soaked pussy. He also just loves to mark up your chest and it's not even intentional !! he just seems to do it out of instinct, wanting to suck from your neck down to your chest, the way your back arches into him could be the reason...

C = Cum

I'm going to say that his cum isn't a very thick consistency but he does cum quick a bit, quite sticky as well. If he isn't coming in your pussy or mouth, then it would probably be your stomach and its bonus points if some lands onto your breasts. I don't think Sasuke would like to admit it but if you guys are in the bathroom after sex and you hope into the shower before he gets in he gets a little pouty seeing you wash his cum off your body and attempting to wash away the cum that keeps on seeping out your puffy folds, that took lots of energy to fill up :(

D = Dirty Secret

When you aren't on a mission with him or he knows that he won't be with you for a couple of months, he would bring some of your.... belongings with him, if yk what I mean of course. He just needs to have something of you with him and if it helps him feel good that even better, aka your panties or bra 😕

E = Experience

I'm going to say Sasuke was pretty inexperienced, so you probably would have been his first, or that he has lost his virginity and just isn't as experienced because he's only done it once or twice.

F = Favourite Postion

Either loves to fuck you in missionary or doggy, no in between. He wants to see your face contort in pleasure as he pounds your pretty pussy as deep as he can. Sasuke loves to watch your beautiful face mold into the most fucked out expressions. Sasuke uses missionary when he comes back from a mission and he just misses you so much, he thinks that this makes him feel so much more closer to you, your legs tight around his hips as his cock pulses in and out of your gummy walls, your hands either entangled within his hair, around his shoulders with your nails digging into his pale skin or placed above you, gripping the sheets.

But with doggy now... he is either going to tease you, going slow as he can, dragging his thick length in and out of your gummy walls, inciting needy whines from you. Or, Sasuke is going to be pounding into you, so fast and deep you can't even think. He gets off seeing you all helpless in front of him, the pretty arch of your back as your dainty hands grip at the sheets, your plushy breasts pressed hard against the mattress, the plump flesh peaking out from the sides at how hard your body is being pressed to the bed--

G = Goofy

He's serious in the moment, I can't see him relatively laughing or making jokes during his sex time with you. The most he would do is probably let out a humorous huff against your mouth or skin when he sees your struggling and writhing beneath him, trying to pull your self away from his advances, but he knows you love it.

H = Hair

He's out most of the time so he probably doesn't have the time to clean it much down there but he makes sure it's trimmed down so he doesn't make you feel uncomfortable, he cares about what you think about him-

I = Intimacy

When you and Sasuke are having more of an intimate moment for sex, he holds you hand with his by your side, his tongue slowly exploring your mouth, inciting small whimpers from you. That just gets the man off. But I doubt the moment would be too 'romantic' as you would be shaking so much from his thrusts 😭

J = Jack off

Jacks off when you aren't around him especially when he's on missions and you aren't with him, he just needs to feel something. Jerking himself of to the thought of you or even just palming himself through his pants with his head pressed against the surface of a tree as his eyes screw shut imagining that it's you making him feel good.

K = Kink/s

Let's be so for real guys, how can Sasuke not be into fulling you flush with his cum, every Uchiha does it, don't they? He loves thinking about breeding your tight cunt. Wanting to see your stomach full of his children, thinking about having to help you all the time because you can't do any small mundane tasks anymore. Its the Uchiha breeding kink calling him--

I think he'd be into light degradation and possession?? Just occasionally calling you his slut or just making you feel like nothing to him. "Just take my come, that's all my slut needs to do for me.' But after I feel like he would feel bad for calling you names so he'd make sure to be extra touchy the next day, considering he isn't big on showing affection :(

L = Location

Prefers to be in a classic setting of a bed because he is a man of traditional ways as that is the way he grew up. He wouldn't be against doing it out on a mission but as long as no one can see because he want's you all to himself. He feels safest knowing that it's only you two, he lets himself be vulnerable with you, all his touches belong to you and he'll make sure you'll never forget.

M = Motivation

If you say anything that makes him tick he will put you in your place and you do so willingly. Or, just simply because he sees your beauty and wants to indulge in you over, and over.

N = No

He definitely doesn't like to spit on you, he values your entire existence and doesn't want you to feel any less then how you want to feel, he is too scared you might leave him, oh the poor pretty boy. Sasuke might call you slut or a bitch during sex but he knows you're okay with that.

O = Oral

Sasuke prefers to be given head rather than give it himself. Now, that doesn't mean he doesn't absolutely love eating out your soaked cunt but he just rather your tight mouth try to fit his length without gagging. Sasuke is a busy and tired man most of the time, so having his pretty girl be at his disposal for him makes him go crazy. Loves coming down your throat and making you open your plump lips to make sure that you swallowed all his seed. Sasuke loves the way you make sure to trace every vein on his dick before taking him whole in your mouth and the muffled gags and gasps you make on his dick causing you to grip his thighs just makes him want to cum down your tight little throat more.

P = Pace

Depending on his mood, normally he has quite a deep and reasonably fast pace but when he's mad at you or mad at something that has pissed him of, Sasuke is rough with you, forcing you to take all his advances, thrusting roughly into your gummy walls.

Q = Quickie

He isn't the biggest fan of them, he'd do it once or twice but that is the most. Sasuke just needs the time to focus on breeding you 🥺

R = Risk

The most risk he would take is having sex in the forest on one of his missions, as I said, he is a traditional man and likes the traditional practices

S = Stamina

Sasuke can and will go all night long, his stamina is through the roof, especially if you egg him on saying he can cum inside your sticky walls, then how can he not go all night? Although, you would probably all tired after the second round, but that isn't stopping Sasuke from slowly teasing you and edging you on just so he can get more orgasms from you, tight walls squeezing the cum out of his length into your fertile womb.

T = Toys

No. He wants you to want him and him to want you.

U = Unfair

The only time he would be 'unfair' would be if he just remembers every time how cute and whiney you look after him stop thrusting into you, edging you, so he just does it for fun because he loves how needy you get, how much you need Sasuke to satisfy the ache in your lower abdomen.

V = Volume

Sasuke isn't a loud moaner but he deeply groans into your skin or mouth as he is either eating you out, getting head or thrusting into your folds. He occasionally lets out moans but it's only when he's coming :( He knows how much you love hearing him moan and that makes the poor man embarrassed. He mostly lets out really breathy sighs that almost sound like moans though 🫣 And hearing those noises come out his mouth just makes you fall in love with him even more (and makes you want him inside you even more-)

W = Wild?

At the beginning of the relationship, he would have tried to be tame so badly but he just couldn't hold himself further on causing him to be more, he always makes sure not to hurt you.

X = X-ray

Sasuke is a strong defined man, in the body of course. Defined abs and a big strong body. He is over six foot so what's in his pants doesn't disappoint. I'm going to say anything between 6-7 inches. He has a slight mushroom head with is a light shade of pinky/red and has light blue veins trailing on the underside of his length.

Y = Yearning

I don't think Sasuke would crave for sex all the time but he definitely won't disagree to having some special time with you if you asked. He'd tease you about it, "You needy?" and then proceed to give you the time of your life. Sasuke prefers to be in more classic setting when having sex, like a bedroom but he isn't opposed to having sex when the both of you are out on missions.

Z = Zzzz

You would fall asleep quickly after what Sasuke does to you but Sasuke would stay up just a couple minutes longer, maybe even an hour, just to see you peaceful face and body in his arms. Sasuke falls asleep to the thought about how lucky he is to have found someone knowing that you won't leave him.

Do not copy, steal, modify, etc. Relogs and like are appreciated.

MASTER LIST

NARUTO/BORUTO MASTER LIST | UCHIHA MASTER LIST

if you would like to be apart of my tag list for sasuke please dm me or comment it down!! if you would like to be apart of the entirety of naruto taglist, comment or dm that please :)

taglist - @enouche @lovelyandproblematic

[ddejavvu]

https://vm.tiktok.com/ZMjPBa9qJ/

Ok but this with Anakin!! It would totally work on him! I love that you’re writing for Anakin now you do it so well 🫶🫶

thank you!! you're so sweet <3 i think if i'm good at it it's because i've been in love with him since middle school maybe

--

You strike while his brain is foggy with sleep, perhaps cruel on your part to combine two sedatives. The natural one, the chemicals his brain slowly releases as the night winds down to lull him into a dozy state, and the pointed tips of your nails, paid for by the very man you inflict them upon.

You reach out and scratch at the base of Anakin's spine, sending a shiver up its length. He's turned away from you only because you're doing some late night reading, and the glow of your screen is too invasive for him to sleep through. He groans at the feeling of your fingernails raking up his spine as you slowly drag them up his back, scratching at the fabric of his heather gray t-shirt.

"Don't stop," He pleads, half-asleep and unfiltered. You indulge him, tracing sprawling spirals over the expanse of his broad, toned back. He seems to melt into the mattress below him, and when you're sure he's barely containing himself from becoming a puddle of goop, you whisper, "Ani?"

"Hm?" He replies, and his voice is just the perfect amount of sappy-mushy-sleepy-gushy; you know you'll get what you want.

"Will you make pancakes tomorrow?" You hum, "The really fancy ones, with the fruit-flavored batter?"

"Sure," He hums casually, like you'd merely asked him to blink. On the contrary, Anakin's rather complicated recipe for flavored pancakes, for special occasions only due to its strenuous nature, is something he normally grouches about.

"Thanks, baby." You scratch up towards the base of his neck with your nails, lingering for only a minute more before you let your hand slink back to the screen that's displaying your novel. You think you've won, you think he's drifted off to sleep without fully realizing the gravity of the situation, but all of a sudden he turns over to face you, eyes both squinted and drooping at the same time, a sight you never thought was possible, much less this endearing.

"Did you mind trick me?" He asks, his glare scrutinizing.

You try to fight off your triumphant grin, "What? What are you talking about?"

"You tricked me," He huffs incredulously, and you feign innocence.

"You're the Jedi, Ani." You try turning back to your book, but he's not having it.

"You did that thing with your nails," He reaches an arm out from under the blankets to snatch up your hand, pulling it to his face to inspect it. His eyes narrow as he stares at your fingertips, examining your nails, "Do these things give you a connection to the Force, or something? How'd you do that?"

You snap your nails at him, scratching playfully at his fingers and retracting your hand when he yelps, "Don't be ridiculous, Anakin."

"You conned me!" He insists, his grin bright now that some of his sleepiness has worn off, "This is ridiculous, you owe me at least twenty more minutes of back scratches if I'm making you pancakes in the morning."

Your initial instinct is to fight it, even though you'd love nothing more than to scratch your nails along his muscled back for hours on end. But you catch yourself, thinking about the pair of boots you'd seen while window shopping earlier, their price a bit too high for you to justify an impulse purchase.

"Alright, Ani." You agree, and you see his brow twitch at the eagerness in your tone, "Roll over, I'll scratch your back until you fall asleep."

"Okay..." He turns like you instruct him to, but he cranes his head to peer over his shoulder at you as you start up your nails against his back once more. His eyes are narrowed, and his hair is messy enough that it nearly covers one of them. He watches you, and you keep your eyes pointedly on your screen, avoiding his scrutiny. Finally he turns, and you wait until he's minutes away from sleep to strike.

"Ani?" You croon, nails dancing along his left side, "Will you buy me new boots?"

"Mhm," He hums groggily, nodding easily into his pillow, "Anything you want, angel."

[the-whispers-of-death]

Hihi can i please request more puppy boy content? With any cod characters you would like? Maybe any type of hurt comfort? I absolutely love your writing and your cod x hybrid readers are my favorite!!! Thank you so much for reading this!!

I'm going to do Gaz, and this is going to be done in headcanon style, because that's all the energy I got for it. I don't think there'll be any hurt/comfort, sorry.

Kyle regularly wakes up in the morning to you pouncing on him because you wake up earlier than he does. He playfully teases you about how you're always so close to licking him to wake him up.

His favorite thing to do is to give you ear scratches and watch your tail wag. He just loves how you relax at the ear scratches and just melt for him. It's his favorite way to get you into his arms because you just melt into his arms when he pulls you closer.

You regularly whine about cutting your own nails, begging him to help you with it. He caves in easily and you sit on the bathroom counter while he cuts your nails to the your desired length.

Kyle knows the power he holds when he calls you a good boy. Whenever you're about to do something naughty, he'll ask, "Are you sure you want to do that or do you want to be a good boy?" It works to stop you from doing something reckless nine out of ten times.

He loves to show the 141 pictures of you, they know he took more pictures of you during his leave when he approaches them with a glint in his eyes. He'll keep them there for literal hours because he just can't help but take so many pictures of you.

You have so many chew toys. So many. He mostly bought them for you because he wants you to have something to chew and nip at when he's away on missions. He gets pouty when you use them while he's home and not busy.

Kyle loves giving you baths. You prefer showers when he's away, but he begs you not to take showers when he's home. You cave because you can't deny that feeling his fingers running through your fur is a delight. He just loves your fur and giving you a bath is the best way to feel your fur.

You might be a puppy boy, but that doesn't mean you're harmless and he knows that. He loves that, actually. He's watched you square up to hybrids who are taller and stronger than you and win a fight simply because you managed to sink your teeth into them and didn't let go. He loves knowing you can protect him just like how he can protect you.

In a similar vein, he loves when you get territorial over him. You regularly wrap yourself over him whenever other people walk over, snarling and growling at them when they make the mistake of flirting with Kyle. The first time you met Ghost, you didn't know he was Ghost, you had just seen a tall ass man being so close to your man and you instinctively bodyslammed Ghost into the nearest wall. Ghost thankfully didn't hold a grudge after it came out that he was Kyle's friend and coworker.

Kyle has made sure that you don't drink too much if you do drink alcohol because the last time you drank a lot of alcohol, you let your puppy instincts take over and you ripped open all of the couch cushions.

[itsjaywalkers]

a lil smth under the cut for u guys <3

part 2 part 3

"Potter, if you dare to step any closer, I swear I will knock your teeth out."

Potter halts his advancement as soon as the sentence is out of his mouth, but Regulus remains tense, alert, shoulders stiff and hands itching to curl into fists. Maybe it's because he knows Potter more than enough after all these weeks of watching his matches and interviewing him after them. Weeks of listening to him brag, and taunt, and flirt shamelessly, despite Regulus always being set on retaining some sense of professionalism.

Maybe it's because of the way he smirks at Regulus' threat, or how he raises both hands in mock surrender, the gesture lazy and insincere.

Or maybe it's the fact that they're alone in the ring, even though Regulus should've left with his crew more than half an hour ago. And the fact that Potter isn't wearing a shirt, but he seems to be allergic to them, anyway, so it's not like it fazes him at this point.

That's what he keeps telling himself, at least.

"You can certainly try," Potter says with his hands still up, and offering a tiny shrug. "I don't know if I like your chances, though."

Regulus narrows his eyes. "You don't think I can fight you?"

"I don't think you can win."

He crosses his arms over his chest as he lets out a scoff, and Potter's smirk seems to grow bigger at the sound.

"And why the fuck not?" Regulus questions.

"Because I'm a professional boxer, love," Potter explains, his voice patient, but there's a certain mocking edge in his words that makes Regulus grits his teeth. "I wouldn't be where I am if someone like you could touch me."

"Someone like me?" Regulus repeats a bit incredulously. He can already feel that one vein in his forehead starting to pop out.

James chuckles, shaking his head a little. He finally drops his arms down. "You know what I mean."

"Actually, I don't. And I'm not sure I want to."

"C'mon, love—"

"Don't call me that."

"—you don't even know how to throw a punch."

Regulus blinks at him, not sure if he's heard correctly, and then he does a double take, barely repressing a derisive snort.

"Excuse me?" he murmurs. "Of course I know how to throw a punch."

"You think you know how to throw a punch," Potter corrects him, that infuariating smile still in place. Regulus is tempted to prove him how well he can actually throw a punch just to wipe it off his face.

"I mean, obviously I can't do it like you do, you're a professional athlete, for fuck's sake—"

"Oh, love, don't worry, I'd never hold you to my standards," Potter intervenes with a laugh, eyes shining with mirth. Regulus face is beginning to heat up, and he isn't sure if it's because of anger or something else. "I'm not talking about a boxing punch. I'm talking about a proper punch."

Regulus exhales loudly, fingers twitching. "Potter."

"Yeah?"

"I know how to throw a fucking proper punch."

Potter raises an eyebrow and he lets his gaze to go up and down the length of Regulus' body, slow and intentional. Regulus has a hard time not squirming, battling against his instincts to keep his face empty, to stop his thighs from pressing together.

"I bet you don't," Potter comments, once his eyes finally find Regulus' again. Unsurprisingly, it doesn't make breathing any easier. "You're too pretty to have been getting into fights."

Regulus is unable to suppress an indignant huff, cheeks coulouring at an alarming pace while his expression twists into a scowl.

"You don't fucking know me," he seethes, jaw so clenched it's slowly becoming painful. "You've got no idea of how my life looks like, or what I've done to get where I'm at."

Potter seems unbothered by the outburst. In fact, he kind of looks a little entertained.

"Maybe so," he concedes with a tilt of his head. "But I know you'd break easy."

Regulus' heart skips a beat. "I don't—"

"Just look at you," Potter goes on, staring him up and down once again. He still sounds slightly mocking, but there's something else in his tone this time. Something darker. "So fucking gorgeous. Holding yourself like you're goddamn royalty. You're feisty, and you're sneaky, I'll give you that, but you'd fold embarrisingly fast against me, wouldn't you, love?"

Regulus gulps, throat suddenly so dry it feels like sandpaper. He tries to shake his head, but his body isn't responding, and when he opens his mouth to snap back, nothing comes out of it.

"You like to act all tough and cold and as if nothing can touch you, but if I were to lay my hands on you—"

"Potter," Regulus manages to spit out, but it sounds hoarse. Weak.

"Oh, you'd break so beautifully for me, right, love? You'd put a bit of a fight at first, because you can't help yourself, and I like that about you anyway, but you'd let go at some point."

"Potter," he tries again, and it sounds a bit sharper, but still too close to a whimper for Regulus' tastes.

"I'd fucking ruin you if you allowed me to, Regulus." His name makes him tremble, goosebumps breaking into his skin, and Regulus has to bite his tongue to stop an inappropriate noise from escaping. "I know you want to. You're really fucking stubborn, and you almost fooled me that first time, that's true, but one can only keep that facade for so long. I've seen how you look at me."

"And how do I look at you?"

"Like all those girls who can't ask me for an autograph without blushing, thinking of me when they have their hands between their legs," Potter responds, gaze so intense it makes Regulus want to scream. "Like your cameraman whenever I stand a bit too close to him, always shifting his body the slightest bit so his shoulder grazes mine. Like Lily whenever I'm between her thighs, and she's begging me to let her come."

Regulus almost gasps, burning with fury but also with something that has nothing to do with it.

The audacity of this man, really. Regulus hates him. Despises him, even. Him and his absurd amount of confidence that has no business being this attractive.

It's hard to pretend to be unaffacted. To pretend he doesn't feel a stab in his stomach by that last statement, by the thought of James and Lily being together, even though it's something he's known almost since the beginning. To act like he doesn't care, like he isn't fucking aching between his legs, wet and hot and desperate.

Regulus doesn't think he completely manages it.

"You're so fucking full of yourself," Regulus grinds out, digging his nails into his arms so hard he's sure to leave marks.

"And yet I'm not hearing you deny it," Potter sing-songs, still grinning widely.

"I don't like you," Regulus insists, raising his chin.

"But you want me to fuck you."

This time, a strangled sound, high-pitched and bordering on needy, manages to slip out of Regulus' mouth, and James shows teeth, that feral light that appears every time he wins a match shining in his brown eyes.

"You wish," Regulus says, trying to save whatever dignity he has left, trying to fix this stupid mistake, this amateur slip up.

"I do," Potter confirms with ease, and Regulus can't swallow properly with the knot he has stuck in between his vocal chords.

"Shut up," it's all that Regulus can get out, which is quite pathetic, but still better than nothing.

"That's still not a denial," Potter points out, satisfaction oozing of him and making Regulus see red.

"I literally can't fucking stand you. I don't think it's necessary for me to tell you that I don't want anything to do with you," Regulus snaps. "Besides, if so many people are tripping all over themselves for you, then I don't understand why you're not bothering them instead."

"Because I want you."

Regulus actually chokes after that, a gulp of air getting stuck in his throat and his heart beating madly between his ribs.

"No." He shakes his head, furiously, desperately, and takes a step back almost at the same time that Potter takes a step forward.

"Yes," the other man presses, undeterred. "I want you, Regulus."

"Potter. Shut up."

"I can make you feel so good, love. You need to stop depriving yourself."

"Potter."

"I know you've thought about it. About me. I'm sure you're thinking about it now, about how amazing I'd feel between your legs, on top of you. Inside you."

"Potter. Stop."

"I bet your underwear is fucking soaked—"

"James."

It slips, sneaking past his lips without Regulus' permission, going unnoticed until it's too late to stop it, or take it back. He has the silly urge to cover his mouth with his mouth, as if that'd be enough to erase the word, the power and implications that name holds.

The reaction is almost immediate.

James' pupils spread out, eating at his irises at a concerning pace. Regulus is so distracted looking at them, that it takes him a moment to realise James is advancing, rushing towards him like a man on a mission.

Regulus retreats, nearly falling over in his haste, doing his best to get as far away from the other man as possible. But James is faster than him, and his back ends up colliding against one of the pillars of the ring. James has his arms bracketing his head in a matter of seconds, and all of a sudden, Regulus is trapped. With absolutely nowhere to go.

"Get away from me!" Regulus exclaims, voice all wrong and wobbly, hands coming up to push at James' chest but not daring to touch.

"Say it again," James demands, completely ignoring him.

"What?"

"Say it again."

Regulus scoffs weakly. "I don't want to."

"Regulus."

"Get. The fuck. Away. From me."

"Regulus."

It shakes him to his very core, and he's helpless to the shudder that rattles his frame, to the way his eyes screw close, so very tight his vision fills up with shiny spots.

When he opens them again, a few moments later, he ends up meeting James' hungry gaze head on.

It destroys the last of his defences.

"James," he repeats in a whisper, heat coiling in his stomach at the other man's intake of breath.

"Again," James asks, almost demands, voice low and strained.

"James."

"Again." And it's a beg.

"James."

"Yeah," the other man mumbles to himself. "Yeah."

James leans forward, and Regulus feels like he's about go into cardiac arrest until James turns his head at the very last second, mouth grazing the lobe of his ear instead of his lips.

"I'll teach you," he tells him softly. Quietly.

"What?" he asks, hardly breathing and refusing to move a single muscle.

James huffs, and it's amused. "How to throw a punch."

"My brother already taught me," Regulus retorts with a roll of his eyes. "And he's better than you."

"Was better than me," James shoots back, and despite this being a topic that usually annoys him, always getting him all petty and defensive, it barely drags an irritated sigh out of him this time.

"Winning one match doesn't mean anything."

"Except that it does."

"No, it doesn't. Sirius' been unbeatable for literal years, and he's worked his arse off to get to where he is, and you'll never—"

"C'mon, love," James whines against his ear, and Regulus has to swallow a gasp. "I'll lend you some comfier clothes and I'll show you how to stand and some tricks, make sure next time I'm being too much of a prick you can shut me up nicely. Maybe you'll even break my nose."

Regulus bites his lower lip, refusing to allow the corners of his mouth to curl upwards. "That does sound good."

James chuckles, and Regulus doesn't acknowledge the way that sounds fills his chest with warmth.

"So? Okay?" James wonders.

Regulus closes his eyes and takes a deep breath. Hopes he won't come to regret this, and sends a silent apology to his brother.

He opens his eyes.

"Okay."

[thenyoumightaswellwrestleangels]

I'll find you always (but I'd rather go alone)

comfort came against my will - series masterlist coming soon

pairing: dick grayson x reader (gender neutral)

length: 1.1k

genre: fluff, comfort

warnings: established relationship, reader finding out dick is nightwing, reader is almost mugged but nothing actually happens, dick has big feelings and doesn't know how to handle them

a/n: I have a ton more written for this couple but let's just start here

It's while you're walking home late one night that it all comes out. You sigh as you weave through a back alley, knowing that Dick would be furious if he knew that, not only were you walking home alone after dark, but you're taking shortcuts through more dangerous parts of the city. But you're tired and you'd had a long day and you couldn't stand the thought of dealing with a creepy cabbie, so you decided to walk, slipping through side streets as all your thoughts swirled around wanting to be home.

But of course, it's not that simple. Of course, you're cornered by three guys who are incredibly interested in the contents of your bag. And… of course, you grew up the way you did, in Gotham of all places. You're not scared, you're just tired and fed up and want to go home.

You don't even have a chance to move, though, before Nightwing is dropping from a nearby roof and dispatching the men in front of you. You cross your arms and huff while you lean against the brick wall. You tilt your chin up as Nightwing stalks towards you and somewhere in the back of your brain, where your sensible self-preservation instincts are buried, an alarm bell rings. Nightwing is all power and presence and danger as he stands tall before you, close enough that you can see the way his muscles strain against his suit.  

You level your gaze with his, waiting for him to make the first move as he stares back at you - you've had your fair share of run-ins with vigilantes and you know that not all of them are as friendly as Batman and his crew. So you wait, holding yourself steady until Nightwing makes the first move.

"Are you hurt?" is all he asks. You arch a brow, his voice pinging some sort of recognition in your brain as you try to place where you've heard it before.

"Pretty sure you showed up before anything had a chance to happen, hm?" you quip back and notice the way his fists ball. Okay, you think. Not in the mood for banter.

"You should be more careful," he responds, and there's a levelness to his rage that reminds you of something but you just can't place it and -

"I'm as careful as I need to be," you snap back. "There are a lot of people in this city who need a guardian angel more than I do - you should go find one of them." So much for not provoking him.

He doesn't do anything, though. He's wound up, that much is clear; he's tense and angry and frustrated and you're not completely sure why or… why you know all of that about him. 

"I found you," is what he finally offers, softness seeping into his voice in a way that makes your stomach flip.

"Hm?" you respond, worried that if you speak, you'll break through the blanket of softness that enveloped you both.

"I found you. Always - I'll always find you. I'll always be here," it's the gentleness that does it, that clicks the last piece of the puzzle into place and forces a huff of breath out of your lungs.

"Is that so?" you murmur back. His hand unclenches and looks as if it's reaching for you for a moment before it falls back to his side and he steps back.

"Of course," he clears his throat. "I always will."

"And why's that?" you press, finally knowing what you're pressing for.

"I'm going to make sure you get home safely. Come on… other people are waiting for their guardian angel," he says, stiff as a board as he closes up. You cock your head to the side.

"Go on then," you prompt. "I can get myself home."

"And I'll make sure of it. Come on."

"No," you shrug. "I'd rather go alone."

"I'm trying to keep you safe." There it is, that dangerous, angry edge seeping back into his voice. You recognize it so clearly this time around.

"And I said no," you push. "I don't need protecting, and you can't save someone that doesn't want to be saved."

"Sometimes when people refuse it is when they need it the most," he growls back, fists balling again. You scoff and cross your arms, slouching against the alley wall.

"Dick saviour complex Grayson, huh. You never let it go, do you?"

Time sort of just… stands still after that. Dick stands before you frozen and your heart melts a little, knowing how rare it is for him to be caught like this and how he must be reeling right now.

"Come on," you say gently as you push yourself off the wall and start walking down the alley. "You were gonna walk me home, right?" He doesn't respond, but you hear his footsteps ever so slightly following behind you, and wonder if he's doing it intentionally so that he doesn't spook you, or if you've done enough spooking and he's still in shock. You glance behind you, but his mask keeps so much from you. You sigh, then, halting as you wait for him to catch up.

"Hey…" you say gently when he stands in front of you, anxious in a way you've never seen him before. "You ok?"

"How long have you known?" he asks quietly.

"About… three minutes I think," you respond lightly. His eyes snap to your and he huffs out a laugh.

"Oh…" he says. "Oh, that's not so bad." you laugh and take his hand, pulling him further out of the alley.

"No, it's really not, is it? Your teasing is gentle. "Now come on, Nightwing, you promised to make sure I get home safe. We can talk about this later, okay? But - you should know… it's okay. It's all okay." He stops walking, then, pulling your arm gently so that you swing around and face him.

"Really?" he prods gently.

"Really," you assure. "I mean… if I had a problem with vigilantes I wouldn't be here, right? And I did, uh… have some suspicions that you hadn't quite retired after Robin"

"Yea," Dick laughs. "I guess that was bound to happen. But, you're right, we can talk later. Come on, now - I promised to get you home safe." you smile up at him, letting him keep your hand firmly in his as you walk side by side.

"Oh," he continues. "And don't think for a second this means I've forgotten about you being out here alone late at night. We're gonna be talking about that, too." You groan and he laughs, pulling you into him to press a kiss to your forehead.

[earthtooz]

what do you think of reo with the jealousy + kiss cam prompt except you’re not dating (yet) so everyone is either shocked or happy because god it took you some time to realize your feelings for each other.

not proofread, very quick drabble

okay but let me present to you... reo confessing to you WITH the kiss cam.

he's got the money, the influence, and the will to bend things his way with just a flick of his hand. so with almost no effort, he sets it up.

you're the physotherapist's assistant, having been fortunate enough to land the opportunity of shadowing the manager of one of the top soccer teams in all of japan. an opportunity that came with a lot of advantages; decent pay for someone of your age, a great learning experience, and frequent interactions with a lot of (hot) athletes.

just as any job, however, there are also downsides... such as... developing feelings for one of the said athletes. a certain purple-haired who was way out of your league.

for professional sake, you kept reo at arm's length. to your dismay, he kept trying to lure you in.

whether it be spending unnecessary amounts of time with you, staying back after practice to help you sort through some files, buying you coffee with the excuse that he was 'given another one', or carrying all the equipment- not that soccer even had much equipment, so that you didn't have to.

as sweet as reo is, and as much as you want to delude yourself into thinking that it was because he was interested in you too, there are a lot of issues that could arise when it comes to pursuing a relationship with mikage reo.

therefore, for professional sake, you will continue to keep reo at arm's length. to your dismay, your plan turns south one fateful night.

it's the night of the finals and the matches just finished with a victory to your team, 5-2. the stadium and the team are hyped beyond belief, absolutely buzzing with energy and adrenaline as everyone celebrates, pumping their fists excitedly or collapsing to the ground in total exhaustion.

after presenting the awards, thanking the opposing team, and clearing the stadium out, all excitement eventually dies down as the boys let the victory sink in.

handing out their water bottles one by one as they go, you leave them with a congratulatory pat on the back. bachira bear hugs you with unforgiving tightness, but other than that, all the players thank you with a small smile or fist bump before retreating to the change rooms.

then, it's reo's turn, who is last out of all the team.

your heart thumps in your chest, trying your best to remain cool and composed in front of him.

"congratulations," you grin, holding out his water bottle for him to take. he does, but lingers, finding no hurry in rushing back to the change rooms.

"thanks," he huffs. "couldn't have been possible without you."

you laugh at that. "don't give me credit for something i could never do. it was all you guys, impressive as always."

he beams even bigger at that. "are you joining the team celebration later tonight?"

"what? oh, no, i'm heading home."

"why, are you busy?"

"not particularly, but i didn't want to intrude."

"that's ridiculous. you could never intrude, you've helped all of us so much."

"i'm flattered you think so," you break eye contact, wandering over to where the duffel bags of first aid and other medicine is. reo follows, even though it's just a few steps away. "but i really don't want to overstep, it's the team's win."

he frowns. "then can i ask of you another favour?"

"sure. what is it?"

the purple-haired points up and you instinctively follow the line of direction.

the kisscam. it's centred on you and reo. you feel your heart skip a beat and your breath hitch, clogging up your lungs. you almost drop the first aid kit too.

no way...

looking back at the athlete, he's giving you that boyish smile of his, laced with hope and sudden shyness.

"hey," is all he says. you blink at him.

"wh-what?"

"aren't you supposed to kiss me now?"

"i'm so confused, why is this happening, the game's ended-"

"-can you kiss me or not?"

your heart is hammering, reverberating violently up your spine and into your ears.

"what?"

"can i kiss you?"

"w-wh- do you want to?" you splutter.

"yeah. i do. please?"

throwing all common sense and ethics out of the window, you give in to his pleas rather easily. "oh. okay."

everything that happens next happens in the blink of an eye. you feel his hand on your waist, then your chest pressing against his, and his warm breath fan across your lips before pulling you in for the most gentle, yet adoring, kiss you have ever received in your whole life. there's no bone in your body that tries to resist him, so, you allow yourself to sink right into him, letting go of your inhibitions (and the first aid kit).

reo doesn't let the noise distract him, instead, he throws away his bottle too and wraps both arms around your waist, deepening the kiss. his lips are slightly chapped from all that running around, but you could hardly care less.

after a few moments, you pull away, leaving the both of you with glistening lips and smiles wide enough to hurt your cheeks.

ridiculous. this all seems so ridiculous.

but it's real. you feel reo's breath fanning across your lips with every exhale, you see the strands of hair that stick to his forehead, and you hear the cheers and whoops of his teammates from the side. they look proud, some yelling 'finally!', causing reo to laugh triumphantly, throwing his head back whilst holding you tightly.

you hide your face in reo's neck, seeking protection from your embarrassment in his warmth. he holds you there.

"i've been waiting so long to do that," he says, rubbing circles on your back.

"yeah?"

"yeah."

"sorry to have kept you waiting, then."

"it's not a problem, i would gladly wait for you, but..." reo trails off, a mischievous smile appearing along his lips. "i'll accept your apology if you come to the party? with me."

"with you?"

"as my date."

[runa-falls]

bunny love 🐰

summary: lloyd comes back to find you fast asleep

pairing: lloyd hansen x reader

rating: explicit

warnings: SMUT (18+), somnophilia, tit play, cockwarming, sleepy time, daddy kink, soft dark!lloyd, pet!reader, rough handling, mentions of toture (but it's not detailed at all)

w/c: 2k

a/n: lowkey, based off of this and the fact that I need more tit-play in fics 😩 this might be a little ooc for lloyd, but i don't really careeeee

likes are nice but comments/reblogs keep me going!

masterlist

-=+=-=+=-=+=-

Your face is exhaustedly smashed into the pillow, the plushness of your cheek squishing against your eye. Lloyd watches as your back rises with soft breaths, your body completely surrendering to a deep sleep. 

Your tiny sleep shorts stick to your body like second skin, stretching nicely over your ass as your right leg is hooked over a pillow. He can see the shape of your soft cunt under the pink fabric, clinging to every dip and mound, for his eyes only. 

Lloyd decided at the last minute to fly you overseas, sparing no expense, merely because he misses you. He wanted to come home to his sweet bunny instead of his temporary call girls, craving the one thing that only you can give him. Unconditional love.

A psychopath like him shouldn’t be so easily swayed by any type of emotion, much less the most trivial of them all: Love. But after an intense six-month mission, when you were plopped into his lap as a kind of “therapy pet,” he started to see the appeal of such emotions. Or at least, the appeal of receiving them. 

At first, he resisted your affections, only asking for you when he wanted a warm cunt to bury himself in, or a punching bag for when he was feeling especially sadistic. Otherwise, you’d sit in your tiny room, doing pretty much anything to pass the time as he actively ignores your existence in the castle. 

He assumed you’d be a temporary doll for him to play with before you’d attempt to escape, something to chase during his off time, but he never anticipated just how long you could hold out.

It annoyed him how pleasant you were, never complaining or whining, always staying out of sight until you were needed. It was like you were made for him. No matter how much he’d taunt, punish, and ignore you, you’d only respond to him with unwavering devotion, seemingly unaffected as your eyes continued to regard him with pure adoration whenever he was near. 

Of course, at the end of the day, his ego didn’t mind the constant attention, so he decided to keep you around–at least, for a little bit– if only for the sake of his narcissism. Lloyd’s arm's length attitude started strong, but he was quickly humbled once he made the mistake of letting you in.

He refuses to admit it, but he has formed an attachment to you. He doesn’t understand why he’d want anyone around, much less a needy pet, but he finds himself craving your presence throughout the day, thinking of you as he performs his daily interrogations.

After a few weeks, it was quickly decided that you go wherever he goes, serving as his little therapy bunny, ready to be everything he needs.

All your energy was drained from the twelve-hour flight he had you on, only managing to get an hour of sleep the whole trip.

A breathy whine pushes through your throat as you shift on the bed, blinding grabbing at the blanket to pull it over your body. Lloyd lets out a frustrated sigh, having dragged them off of you just a few minutes early to get an eyeful of your body. He gently pushes you to lay on your back before pulling the duvet down once more.

He bites his lip when he sees how your nipples instantly start to pebble through your cropped shirt as his cool hands glide against your exposed stomach, absorbing your natural heat. Your body is always so responsive, even when your mind is unconscious. 

Your tiny hands wrap over his wrist, instinctively pulling him closer as you’re slowly nudged awake. He ignores your grabby hands, brushing them off easily as he lifts your shirt, exposing your bare tits to the cool room. Your body arches ever so subtly at the feeling, an eager action that isn’t lost on Lloyd.

He drifts the pads of his fingers up your skin, trailing goosebumps as he ascends, eyes focused on your perky mounds. He watches you let out a soft whimper as he circles a bud, unconsciously lifting into his touch as pleasure tingles up your spine. He goes further, flicking and pinching at your sensitive nipples, drinking in every involuntary gasp and groan you let out. 

One particularly harsh pinch causes you to flinch and open your sleepy eyes. Lloyd watches you blink slowly, eyes bleary as they try to focus on what’s in front of them. “Hm?” You hum drowsily, voice raspy from sleep. 

He splays his palm over your chest, softly squeezing you in his hand as he greets you. “Hi, bunny. Miss me?” 

“Daddy…” 

He coos, eyes boring into yours as his hand absentmindedly gropes at your other tit. “That’s right princess. You have a good flight?”

“Mhm.”  You nod adorably slow, chest heaving with excited breaths. His movements start to slow, his hand now petting short comforting strokes against your skin. His tongue swipes over his bottom lip as he takes in the dreamy look in your eyes, still fogged over from your nap.

His actions stop altogether as he considers your reclined form under him. “You tired?” You shake your head adamantly, pushing yourself up to show your attentiveness. Your eyes suddenly brighten with energy. 

“N-no. I’m up.” Your avid actions are met with a warm chuckle and a hand that shoves at your chest to push you back against the mattress.

“Relax bub, we don’t gotta do anything tonight. I just finished a mission and you had a long flight.” A small disappointed pout pulls at your lips as you grip a pillow on your lap. Lloyd raises an eyebrow, not one to accept bratty behavior, no matter how soft he’s become for you. “Hey, none of that. Scoot over bunny, let me in.” 

You barely push yourself to the center of the bed, preferring to be right against his body when you sleep. 

You patiently lay on your side as you watch Lloyd undress, pulling off a ridiculously expensive patterned shirt before throwing it carelessly to the ground, happy to be out of the constricting fabric. 

You squeeze your thighs together as you drink in his exposed torso: perfectly chiseled and speckled with enticing scars. You remember the nights you trace each blemish, touch featherlight so as to not wake him up. You never ask how he gets them, purely content with the privilege of being able to touch him.

The shirt is followed by his white slacks and loafers, joining the discarded fabric in a pile for someone to clean up tomorrow.  

He pushes the ungodly amount of pillows you were sleeping with on the floor before slipping in, shivering as his body acclimates to the residual heat you left on his side. He shifts around the bed before propping himself onto his right side, facing his body toward yours. 

“Turn around.” Lloyd calmly murmurs regarding your closeness, eyes half-lidded either from exhaustion or desire. You flip over obediently, staring at the gray wall in anticipation as you wait for his next instruction.  

He doesn’t speak as reaches over you, letting out a relaxed sigh as he wraps his arms around your waist. As Lloyd pulls you closer to nestle his hips against yours, you can feel the warmth of his hard cock insistently push against your ass through your shorts. You let out a soft groan, arching your back to press yourself more firmly against him. 

His face rests above your shoulder as he holds you, lips brushing gently at the edge of your ear.  “Daddy just wants a hug, sweetheart. You think you could give me one?” You melt as he addresses you with a soft voice, still unused to the lighter side of Lloyd. You wrap your arms over his, giving him an affectionate squeeze. 

“Of course-” Your sentence stutters to a stop as he suddenly starts to tug at your shorts, fingers hooking at the waistband before pulling them down your thighs. You try to turn toward him, confused by his sudden actions, but his hold keeps you still and defenseless against his hands.

“Wait, wh-” He promptly muffles your confusion with a hand over your lips as he pushes at the fabric until it’s around your knees, effectively binding your legs together. His hand drops from your face as he reaches down to pull himself out of his boxers, already hard and throbbing for your cunt. “Dadd-”

“Just a little taste, bunny.” He rubs the tip of his cock through your sopping folds, effectively coating himself in your slick as lewd sounds hungrily escape between your bodies. You feel him experimentally push the head in before backing out, teasing your hungry cunt as you try to suck him back in. “Mm, look at this greedy pussy, all wet, just begging for my fat cock.” 

“Please, daddy, I can take it!” He pushes in slowly, softly shushing your whimpers as you struggle to stretch around him, your legs still forcefully bound together, making you tighter than ever. 

“F-fuck.” He lets out a groan as he bottoms out, forehead pushing against your shoulder as he struggles to hold his hips back from fucking into you. Just a taste, he reminded himself. He can go a night without a fucking you into the mattress. 

Your body feels restless as his cock deliciously throbs inside you, prodding right against your cervix. You’re ravenous for his usual mouthwatering harshness, anticipating a hard fuck that’ll put you to your sleep. But it never comes.

You let out a pathetic whine when he continues to remain completely still behind you, refusing to rut into you like he usually does. You try to squirm against his arms in an attempt to fuck yourself on his cock, hips wiggling in pure desperation for any type of relief. A short drag of his cock inside your cunt causes you to squeeze around him, instant shivers running up your spine.

Before you can get too far, Lloyd tightens his hold on your body, tsking lowly as you try to resist him. “I already told you, bunny, we aren’t doing anything tonight.” He positions his body so he can effectively mold himself along your back, “You’re just gonna keep me warm tonight, okay?” You secretly wear a pout as you solemnly nod, unhappily listening as his breaths begin to calm down and steady behind you.

A handful of minutes go by and he falls asleep, unbothered by your frustrated form as he relaxes against you, contently stuffed in your warmth. Unfortunately, his calm silence doesn’t help you one bit. You’re so frustrated that you can probably cum from simply clenching around him. 

Your sensitive clit pulses as you lean back into his touch still worked up from the tit massage he gave you earlier. Couldn’t he have gotten you off before sleeping? 

You hold a breath as you experimentally tighten around him, waiting for a scolding voice or movement to stop you, but nothing happens.

You close your eyes as you clench again, finally relaxed enough to take in how full you feel. Your cunt flutters in excitement as you mold around his thickness, each squeeze pushing you toward the edge. 

Unbeknownst to you, Lloyd feels everything. He has to hold back a groan as wakes up to you pulsing around him, slick smearing over his lower stomach. 

You gasp as he suddenly thrusts harshly against your cervix, still thinking he was asleep behind you.  

His fingers painfully dig into your skin as he growls, “Stop fucking around.” He holds himself deep inside of you, ignoring your whimpers at the pressure. “Go to sleep, or I’m leaving.” You give up, eyes wet from losing your orgasm.

You squeeze your eyes shut to force yourself to sleep, desperately trying to block out the sensation of being filled. 

[stargirl-writes]

safety net part two

pairing : force healer! jedi reader x anakin skywalker

word count : 1 k

masterlist | part one

summary

finding safety in a world deranged by war became a distant dream until your childhood friend, anakin skywalker, comes back to your life.

tags : angst, fluff, romance, friends-to-lovers

warnings : mentions of dressing a wound

notes

part two of this one but can be read as a stand alone !

also, i think it'd make sense if i say that as a demisexual, angst is my version of a smut haha!

Anakin would appear every Wednesday.

The clone war broke out and healing Anakin became more difficult. For every wound that you closed, another would appear.

By the fourth week of your treatment, his bionic arm was nearly finished. You've gone to extensive lengths to gather beskar alloy. Which worked out in the end, because Anakin's synthetic arm became a sort of shield.

There was absolutely no reason for him to keep coming to your med-bay station. You knew he could've easily submerged himself in a bacta tank, which he developed a deep hatred of, or used a stim, but he persists.

And you can't entirely find it in yourself to not welcome him.

Anakin was a part of your childhood that felt like how home always felt. Even if you can no longer identify with most parts of your past, Anakin was... well, it was nice having him around.

"I'm starting to get the idea you're hurting yourself to see me" You teased one late night when Anakin welcomed himself to your quarters.

He lets out a soft chuckle, shrugging his shoulders.

You step forward, hand finding a way to his cheek out of instinct.

Exhaustion. Warmth. Excitement. 

You withdrew your hand, he was alright.

His gaze felt warm on your skin, you caught your eyes locked with his.

Your heart races and you step back, searching for something to occupy yourself with.

"I still don't get how you do that" Anakin's voice echoes from behind. You open the drawer of your closet to find your kit.

When you turned, Anakin was curiously stirring the pot of soup you were preparing.

"Do what?" You asked absentmindedly, laying out the cotton, the antiseptic, and the salve neatly on the table.

"You can tell how I'm feeling by touch?" Anakin searches the cupboards for the bowls and cutlery.

"I've been trained to" You answered, then gestured Anakin to sit down so you can dress his wound.

Anakin walked over and started taking off his robes. He winces under his breath. Recognizing his careful movements, you helped him unbutton his shirt.

A large blaster burn was marking the back of his shoulder to his collarbone.

"You should've gotten this checked by a med droid" You lectured, surveying the wound.

"Thought I could use gentler hands" He still delighted in himself.

You huffed a laugh. Then, you began cleaning the wound.

"I'm applying the salve now" You narrated what you were doing, a habit you developed after realizing Anakin does not like being surprised by the sensation.

He nods and you continue. Finally, you focused your intent on fully healing the wound. You closed your eyes, focusing on breathing at a steady pace. It had been a few moments before the skin was new again.

"Thank you" Anakin mutters, rolling his shoulder to feel the pain had gone away.

You stood up and turned the heat off the soup. Anakin pulls the chair and waits for you to sit. Once again, it was just you and Anakin sharing a table, isolated from everyone else. The way it always used to.

However, when morning comes, the reality of it dawns on you. You can only ever steal a few moments of safety with Anakin, but the truth is there'll always be a war.

On most days, it felt like the losses were unending. On most nights, Anakin would make time to hold you as you wept when the weight of it all felt too heavy.

You weren't really the person to cry in front of other people. But with Anakin, you fall to pieces. Perhaps, you were comforted by the fact that he won't judge you, even if some nights you'd utterly be inconsolable.

"We'll be alright" He'd promise.

Even the fact that you have Anakin Skywalker so definitely became a cause of fear.

Because there he'll always be. You know his eyes like they are your own. You can hear his laughter when he is not laughing. You can come to Anakin and there he'll always be.

What happens when he's not?

You hadn't even realized how much you were depending on Anakin. Because it was always about taking care of each other.

So it came unexpectedly.

One quiet evening Anakin insisted on staying the night.

And you let him in, holding the door wide open so he'd know he could leave anytime he wished.

"I didn't think I'd ever be this happy to be back on Coruscant" You sat on the edge of the bed. Taking a deep breath as you leave the tormenting memories of the day fade away with the light.

"I make you happy?" Anakin half turns with a boyish smile.

His resilience was something you admired. You were certain he was carrying an equal amount of grief. And yet, here he was. Brave and confident, so competent, so certain that he, too, has something to offer.

"Of course, you do," You said, to yourself or Anakin, but you couldn't decipher.

He was telling a story of how he started implementing this game with Ahsoka, a competition of some sort to revert her focus away from the truths of the war. His words blur as you stare and think to yourself, Oh.

He has that power over me now. 

It felt like a surrender. In a world terrorized by a raging war, he built a home that made you feel safe.

He notices your silence and sits down next to you, his finger tracing the necklace he gave you, and you find yourself running yours through his hair.

"We're going to be fine," Anakin said. "It's okay, it's going to be alright," he said in a firmer tone.

He'd been there when you needed him to. So, he'd always reassure you.

"I'll always take care of you, you know what, right?"

"That's my line" You chuckled.

Anakin mirrors your smile. "Right, well, I mean it".

Your mind quiets, and you can't hold the pose of defiance when Anakin presses your head to his chest.

"Doesn't it get tiring? Fighting and fighting..." You trailed, voice barely above a whisper.

"It does." He answers. "But we have to, otherwise, it's like handing the galaxy in the hands of a cruel tyrant"

You turned your face upwards to hear more, and your nose touched his.

"Alright, chosen one" You teased his heroic remark.

He grimaces at the title. He still doesn't believe it to be true. And you'd never miss the opportunity to call him that.

"At least you're already chosen by someone" You looked up through your lashes.

Anakin shakes his head and his lips curl to the side. "Well, you're my chosen one"

did anyone catch the dramatic irony haha!

also! written this off the prompt [which i can't find anymore 😭] of people healing each other physically and emotionally by loving

[bokutosbiceps]

sakura blossoms (pt 3)

monkey d luffy x afab!reader | smut | ~1.1k words

warnings: this is allll smut. virgin!luffy is my religion so ✨

a/n: this is pt 3 to the sakura blossoms series !! it's the final part so i hope y'all enjoy it. i know i fucking loved writing it. lemme know what ya think, as always !! 😁

ps. this can be read without reading pt 1/2, it's just smut w a tiny bit of fluff at the end 🤭

click here for pt 1 !!

click here for pt 2 !!

18+ MDNI | under the cut for length

luffy's lips are hot and searing into your own, branding them so now you think you can never kiss anyone else again. 

it's hard for you to believe he's never done this before. he'd insisted he's never kissed anyone, never intimately touched anyone, never had sex, but the way he's working his tongue against yours is far too intoxicating. 

you're his first kiss because he likes you, according to him. a girl he'd met three hours ago and latched onto like his life depended on it. and he isn't planning on letting go for a long while. 

luffy’s bent over you with you still in his lap, his lips connecting with yours upside down while yours are upright. he releases your cheeks and tries to grab a hold of your chin to tilt your head, but doesn't have enough leverage.

so he wraps his rubber arms around your hips and brings you to face him, pressing you to his chest when he lays back. 

luffy can't bear being separated from your lips for too long; a whine escapes his throat and his fingers press into the nape of your neck, bringing your lips to his again. 

you can feel his hips jerk up and something warm and hard presses against your ass. luffy moans at the delicious friction and repeats this movement, deciding that it feels nice.

luffy is a man of instinct, you can tell, because the way he's rubbing his erection against your ass could only be a movement ingrained in his hips. a carnal need that he's got his desire locked on.

“luffy…” you mumble against his needy kisses. 

“hm?” he lets his lips travel down to your neck, where he sucks on the skin overlying your tense muscles. you moan, your fingers reaching up to tug on his hair.

you can feel yourself getting warm and wet and you subconsciously adjust yourself so that luffy’s cock is now rubbing against your covered cunt. 

his tip catches your clit at just the right angle and you moan again.

"ya like that?" he huffs, staring at you through misty eyes. you just bite your lip and nod. luffy takes this as a sign he's doing something right, so he keeps jerking his hips up to grind against you. 

“are you sure you wanna…?” you push against his chest lightly, making him lay back and look at you. his eyes are half lidded and there's a lazy smile on his saliva covered, swollen lips.

“wanna what?”

“this is your first kiss…shouldn't we—”

“have sex? yeah.” luffy breathes. sanji’s taught him lots about love and romance and what to do if and when he finds someone he wants. luffy’s going to listen to his heart as he usually does, and go after what he wants, as he usually does.

luffy lifts his head back up to seal his lips against yours. any thought of stopping flees your mind and all you can focus on is cumming with luffy.

you push against luffy’s chest once more to sit up, your hands scrambling to find the sash on his kimono and untie it. you sit up slightly to allow his kimono to fall open on either side of him.

you separate your kimono and bunch it around your waist then move to straddle his thighs and wrap your fingers around his cock, squeezing gently and pumping up his shaft. you can feel yourself growing wetter by the second as you watch beads of pre cum bubble up from his tip.

“y/n…stop teasin’. i wanna be inside ya.” luffy’s voice comes out as a mixture between a whine and a moan, and his hands are in his hair, tugging on his locks in frustration. 

your fingers find their way to your clit and you rub quickly, working up enough stimulation to make sure you're as gooey as possible for the future pirate king’s pleasure. luffy watches on in awe, his mouth ajar.

his mouth is then blown wide open in a guttural moan when you sink down onto him, his hands flying to your hips as he pushes you further down. he's loud, and you're grateful you're in a shack in some forest.

“sh-shit.” luffy stammers. “you're s-so warm. y-you’re squeezin' me so tight.”

the feeling of your cunt milking his cock is something he never thought possible, and he can't get enough of it. his hands work in tandem with his hips as they push you down to meet his powerful thrusts.

your hands find purchase on his shoulders and you hang on for the ride of your life, little moans and mewls slipping out from your lips due to the sheer force of his hips slamming against yours.

“a-ah, y/n, i feel like i'm gonna burst.” luffy whines, arching his back up off the floor to reach deeper within you.

the tip of his cock is weeping and painting your cervix with his precum.

luffy gets addicted to the way you cry his name and decides he wants to hear it way more often than you're giving him. so he moves one of his hands down between your thighs and thrusts a bit slower and shallower.

you about burst into tears when you feel the pad of one of luffy’s fingers rough against your clit. he abuses it, rubbing it so fast you think you’re gonna cum in seconds. and you do.

your warm walls close in on his cock as you cum, crying out his name and digging your fingertips into his traps. luffy throws his head back and a groan is ripped from deep within his chest.

both of his hands are back on your hips to hold you down to the base of his cock as he pumps you full of his cum.

his hips are stuttering, minutely moving in and out of your pussy. his eyes are squeezed shut and he's gritting his teeth as he accidentally overstimulates himself with each short drag of his cock.

eventually, his vice grip on your hips loosens and luffy lets go, allowing you to roll off him and lay at his side.

he's quick to turn so that he's facing you. he grabs your chin between his index and thumb, bringing your face forward toward his so he can smooth a soft kiss over your lips.

“join my crew.” he says firmly once he pulls away, keeping his grip on your chin tight enough to prevent you from looking away.

you hesitate, imagining yourself traipsing the seas with luffy, seeing the world with him by your side. and, hopefully, more nights like this.

“i want to, luffy…but my home is here, in wano.” you bite your cheek. “plus, i'm not sure how i can be of any help to you. what would my role even be?”

luffy purses his lips, thoughtful for a moment. “well, i guess we already have a musician.” he hums and closes his eyes, deep in thought. it's not too long before his eyes fly open and he grins. “it doesn't matter, captain says ya don't hafta have a role!”

luffy sits up and crawls over you, pressing light and quick kisses from your collarbones up to the corner of your mouth, where he stops. “your only job is to be by my side. captain’s orders.” 

then he presses a kiss to your lips so tender, it immediately helps you realize that you never even had a choice in the first place.

i'm tagging everyone who commented on pt 1 saying they wanted a pt 2 or rb, also the regulars 😗

taglist: @lavenderhaze00 | @n1ght5h4d3-24 | @333vil | @scentisterror | @jaree101-blog | @louisechec | @luffysprincess | @usoppsstar | @lalalolojoot | @bfshoto | @nina-a-pines | @pileofmush | @anemptypuddingcup

[chadillacboseman]

The Shepherd's Daughter - II

Pairing: Phillip Graves x F!Reader (Shepherd's daughter)

Warnings: Reader is a CIA agent. Mentions of terrorism, both foreign and domestic, blood, injury, guns, etc. Graves is a whiny, jealous little bitch boy, but when he gets his way OOOOOO. SPOILERS FOR MW2.

Summary: As punishment for the botched infiltration of a domestic terror cell, your father, General Shepherd, pairs you with Shadow Company to retrieve American war assets that have fallen into the wrong hands.

Word Count: 2k maybe?

Part ONE HERE

--

"Are you any closer to finding them?" Your father's voice was tense, on the verge of anger. You sensed that perhaps he had been into the whiskey he kept in his desk drawer ("for emergencies" as he so often joked).

There was no progress update to be given. Every lead you had chased with Shadow Company had been a dead end. You considered, for a moment, lying to him- spinning a tale and trying to make the situation less dire.

It would do you no good. He had an uncanny way of knowing when you were lying, even if all he had to go on was your voice.

"No, sir. We are not," the line was silent at that response and you instinctively tensed, awaiting the inevitable shouting that would come.

But it didn't.

Instead, his voice was even as he asked, "And how is Shadow Company performing?"

The question perplexed you. Did he think of you as his own personal spy? Had Graves been correct in his assumption that your father wanted someone to keep an eye on their operations?

"Well?" Impatient. Nothing the man hated more than waiting.

You took a quick glance around the room to make sure no Shadows had wandered in before answering, "They're...fine, sir. We just don't have many leads to go on."

"Fine?" His anger had finally bubbled to the surface, "What the hell is that supposed to mean? Are they doing their fucking job or not?"

You held the phone at arm's length until he had finished his tirade before bringing it back to your ear for a rebuttal, "They're well-equipped, efficient. My...reputation makes it difficult to earn their trust, but they are tireless in their efforts."

A grunt of approval on the other end of the line. The deity had been appeased.

"I expect a report at the same time tomorrow."

The line went dead.

Graves watched you from across the room, his blue eyes unwavering as he drummed his fingers impatiently on the body of his rifle. You were staring out the cracked window, your hair moving ever so slightly with the push of the salt-soaked breeze.

You were pretty, something that Graves had began to notice the more time he spent with you. Something that ate at him- frustrated him beyond reason.

He still didn't trust you fully. Hated the way you took phone calls from the general behind closed doors. Graves knew you were reporting back to Shepherd about them- on good days, funding poured in from their benefactor, and on bad ones they barely scraped by with their lives.

"The general giving you grief today?" Graves called across the room.

You shrugged and made a face that distorted your features in the dim lighting of the safehouse. He chuckled and bounced on the balls of his feet, waiting to see if you'd relinquish any further details.

You didn't.

Graves chewed the inside of his cheek and decided to press his luck-

"You been tellin' him how we're doin'? That what the phone calls are for?"

You shot him another look, this time laced with your obvious annoyance at the question; he smiled in return, that disarming smile full of too-white teeth that could almost be mistaken for a shark's maw.

"Just askin', princess. No need for the venom."

He drawled out the cutesy nickname that made your face heat; the other Shadows had dropped it after you'd proved yourself to their standards, but Graves still used it, much to your chagrin.

"I tell him what he asks for," you spat the words a little more harshly than you intended, and you almost felt a pang of guilt when Graves raised his eyebrows in surprise.

"And what does he ask for?" he cocked his head, blue eyes shining under the exposed bulb in the ceiling, "how his lapdog is performing?"

"Your words, not mine, Graves."

"Mhm," he took a step forward and the aging wooden floor creaked under the sole of his boots, "Do ya tell him how my boys are run ragged chasin' his fuck up? How we're stayin' in shitholes like this-" he jerked his head around the room at the cracked walls and exposed wiring, "while he sits in his office?"

"Where are you going with this, Graves?" you sighed through your nose and folded your arms across your chest, "What do you want from me? I've been with you for weeks- if you don't trust me, then-"

Graves cut you off and took another step toward you, his hands still clutching his rifle to the point of whitened knuckles, "I wanna know what the high and mighty Shepherd junior is feeding her daddy dearest when no one is listening."

Something in you snapped.

You shoved him, hard, and he stumbled backward, his eyes wide before he caught himself. An expression flashed across his face that made your stomach drop as he tossed his rifle to the floor.

"Try that again," Graves snarled, his face now twisted in an almost eager grin.

You could try to defuse the situation- tell him this was pointless bickering.

But that something inside you fought back against the urge, burning white hot like a branding iron.

"C'mon, princess. Try it again."

That was the final straw.

You leapt forward and tried to level a knee into his gut, but anger made you sloppy. Graves elbowed you in the middle of your back, nearly snatching the air from your lungs.

"Sloppy work, Shep," he sneered and you brought your head up quickly, making connection with his chin with a crack that radiated through your own skull.

Graves stumbled backward and spit, a splatter of crimson hitting the filthy wooden floor before wiping his mouth on the back of his hand. Before he could recover, you lunged at him again, grabbing him around the middle and shoving him to the floor.

Graves let out a muffled yelp of surprise as you pinned him, the sharp point of your knee keeping him flat on his back. You unsheathed your knife and pressed the razor edge to his throat, savoring the way his pulse raced under his sweat-soaked skin.

"Give me a reason, Graves," you hissed through gritted teeth, "I'll tell him you started it. Make sure there's only one story."

"You gonna cut my throat? Do it then," he was still grinning and a small trickle of blood ran down from the corner of his mouth, "C'mon!"

He shouted the last word and you jumped, nearly granting his wish.

"Not worth the paperwork," you sheathed your knife, satisfied with the small cut you'd left in your wake. You made to rise from him, but he clapped a hand onto your thigh, holding you there.

A strange expression passed over his features for just a moment, then disappeared along with the pressure of his hand on your leg. You rose to your feet and offered him a hand, which he took before orienting himself.

"You gonna tell the general about this little spat?" Graves cocked an eyebrow and brought his hand to his throat, swiping the still trickling blood from the wound.

"Maybe."

The fight was absent from the next call with your father. It didn't seem worth the effort to explain that you'd briefly thought of killing the commander over a childlike argument.

There was good news to pass on anyway- Shadow Company had landed in Las Almas and the Mexican Special Forces seemed far more competent than the US Military back home.

Colonel Alejandro Vargas, in particular, was impressive among them. He and his second in command had already had a run-in with Hassan and the taskforce they were working alongside had been chasing down leads left and right before Shadow Company arrived.

The 141 and the Special Forces treated you with more respect than the Shadows had- they even seemed to seek your input, which was more than you could say for Graves and his men.

It was easier to spend time at the Las Almas base- it was warm, and for once, you weren't sleeping on a bare floor next to a dozen snoring soldiers.

Graves seemed annoyed with your enjoyment of their hospitality, but never mentioned it directly.

"It's good to have you around here, hermosa," Alejandro was bent low over a map of Las Almas, studying it with intensity, "Sometimes these men forget the little details."

You smiled and he returned it, a genuine grin that accented his handsome features.

From across the room, Graves glared at him, his lip curled in a barely-concealed snarl of disdain. Why it upset him so much, he had no idea- that alone frustrated him more than Alejandro's blatant flirting.

He wanted more than anything to wipe that smile off of the colonel's face, preferably with his knuckles.

"Graves?" you cocked your head and the sound of your voice cut through the swirling white noise in his head, snapping him out of his rage-fueled trance.

"What?"

You furrowed your brows and gestured to the map, "Alejandro's plan?"

Alejandro. So quick to call him by his first name.

"Small teams are probably better for this," the colonel repeated the plan slowly, as if Graves was a child who had been caught daydreaming, "Shepherd and I could-"

"No," Graves cut him off and you raised a brow, "She comes with me, she doesn't work for you, Vargas."

Alejandro seemed to have made a connection in that moment and a smirk ghosted over his lips at the realization, "Far as I know, she doesn't work for you either, sombra."

You glanced between them, sensing some unspoken tension that seemed to have formed behind your back.

"I should go with Shadow Company," you murmured quietly. For a moment, Graves looked triumphant, until you continued, "The general wants regular reports on their performance."

Alejandro chuckled and shot the commander a look of victory, "Wouldn't want to disappoint your bankroll."

You spent the next miserable night in a decrepit safe house, staring up at the ceiling as Graves breathed softly next to you. He hadn't said a word since the spat with Alejandro, and he'd tossed you your duffel with such force it had nearly knocked you off your feet.

Your back ached from the hard floor, and the early sounds of a thunderstorm were brewing outside the thin walls. You sat up in the darkness and rubbed your temples, contemplating the series of life fuckups you'd had to make to get to this point.

A loud crescendo of thunder shook the house and you jumped, barely stifling a yelp of fear at the sudden sound.

"Scared of storms, princess?" Graves mumbled from his position on the floor.

"Will you give it a rest, Graves?" you snapped and he chuckled.

There was a long moment of silence before he spoke again.

"How come you don't call me Phillip?" he pushed himself up to a seated position, his eyes barley visible shining in the dark.

"Because you're the commander," you said with a shrug.

"You call the Colonel by his name. Seems a little too familiar."

"Are you jealous?" you asked incredulously and he huffed out a noncommittal response you couldn't catch, "What is going on with you? Three weeks ago, you'd have been happy to have me out of your hair! Hell, before we landed in Las Almas, we nearly killed one another-"

"Yeah? Maybe I just don't want you shacking up with a foreign military leader when we're supposed to be focused!"

You sputtered indignantly, feeling your face grow warm at the accusation, "Shacking up? Really?"

"Yeah, really."

You took a blind swat at his face in the dark and he grabbed your wrist yanking you toward him until your chest was flush with his. In the pitch blackness, his eyes shone like a predator as he stared down at you.

His face was so close to yours now that you could feel his breath as it fanned over you; he was nearly panting, and you could feel the thrum of his heart under his fatigues.

You tried to pull away, but Graves tightened his grip with a growl, "I sat back while you spied on my men, slowed us down, and reported back to your piece of shit father. Then we land in Las Almas and you may as well have sat on that fucking prick's lap while he planned-"

Your free hand connected with his face with a crisp -SMACK- that rang out in the silent room. If it had hurt him, he didn't show it. Instead, he grinned and took hold of your free hand with his own before moving, swiftly, and knocking you onto your back with your arms pinned above your head.

You tried to wriggle free, but he shoved a knee between your legs for leverage and you felt a sudden pang of heat at the contact.

"Didn't your daddy ever teach you any manners?" He hissed through gritted teeth.

"Fuck you, Phillip," you spat his name and he laughed, a hollow, mirthless sound that fell flat in the darkness.

"Ask me nicely."

"Get the fuck off of me!"

"Wrong answer, princess," he thrust his knee up into you and you let out a strained gasp that made him laugh again, "See, you're givin' me mixed signals here." He brought his mouth down to your ear and you felt a jolt of electricity run down your spine.

"You want me to stop? I'll stop, but I don't think that's what you really want."

You didn't answer, your attention now too focused on his mouth as it neared your neck, hot breath sending your hair on end. When his tongue finally hit your skin, you had to stifle the sound that threatened to tumble past your lips. Before you could stop yourself, you bucked your hips, desperate for friction against his knee.

"That's more like it," he purred; his teeth came down, suddenly, on your pulse point and you gasped, back arching off the cold floor and sending your chest against his. Tomorrow, there'd be a mark there, glaring and obvious for everyone to see.

"Can I let your hands go?" Graves panted, his mouth still close to your ear, "you gonna go smackin' me again?"

"No," you tried to focus through the haze of lust that had taken root in your mind.

"Promise?" He asked, his voice smug.

Before you could answer, he released your wrists and one of his hands snaked under the hem of your shirt, rough fingertips gliding across your sensitive skin. His hand found your bra, deftly moving it up to expose your breasts to his fingers. He wasted no time taking one of your nipples between them, rolling gently until you let out a pathetic whimper.

"Wondered how good you'd sound," Graves' mouth found yours and he nearly crashed into you, kissing you like the desperate man he'd been since landing in Las Almas, "He's never gonna fuckin' hear this."

Alejandro. He had been jealous.

"C'mon, let me hear that pretty sound again, baby," he murmured; his knee ground into you once more and you moaned his name, his first name, and it sent his head into a daze.

You heard him fumble with his belt for a moment, then he tapped your buckle expectantly, prompting you to wriggle your way out of your pants. You tossed them aside in the darkness and shivered against the cold night air as it hit your bare skin.

"This ain't the way I wanted it to happen," Graves whispered as he ran a gentle hand up your inner thigh.

How long had he been thinking about it?

Swiftly, he grabbed your thighs and pulled your legs around his waist, lining himself up with you. Slowly, agonizingly, he pushed himself inside you, hands grasping desperately at your hips to pull you flush with him.

Graves dropped his forehead to yours, panting quietly as he let you adjust to him. His first thrust was gentle, slow and easy, as if he was testing the water.

"You gonna tell your daddy about this?" Graves set a bruising pace, thrusting into you with less restraint than before.

You didn't answer, unable to speak as his cock hit every sensitive spot deep inside you over and over again. You wanted to hate him, wanted to tell him what an absolute bastard he was-

But the words wouldn't come.

Instead, you clutched at his shoulders, moaning and whining like an animal in heat as he fucked you on the filthy floor of the safehouse.

This was a bad idea, surely. Sleeping with the commander could only come back to haunt you.

Graves thrust, hard, and the thought was pushed from your mind entirely as he edged you closer to release. It was clear he wasn't far behind as he panted and let his movement grow sloppy and erratic.

"Gonna cum inside you, baby, that okay?" Graves' voice shook as he spoke.

"Yes-" you gasped out the words as he gave you one final push that had the tension inside you snapping like a taut cord.

He was close behind you, thrusting sloppily until he was spilling inside you with a weak grunt. He stayed like that for a moment, panting, as sweat dripped from his face and pattered down onto you.

Already, you could feel the gentle throb of the bruise that was forming on your neck where he had bitten you earlier.

To your left, a radio crackled to life and Graves scrambled to grab it, listening intently to the chatter from the Shadows on the other end.

"Shit-" he tossed the radio to the floor and searched for his pants.

"What is it?" You asked weakly, still lying on the floor where he'd left you.

"141 has movement, pretty sure it's Hassan," Graves threw your pants to you and you wiggled your way into them. It had to be at least 3am and you were exhausted.

You searched blindly for something to cover your neck, but to no avail. You weren't thrilled at the thought of Alejandro seeing it, but decided you didn't care.

Graves led the way and you followed him out the front door, rifles drawn.