#they are just passing fabric back and forth between them

[goldentemplariumcrow]

There was a moment where Corvus felt like he was losing himself in the sensations, the strong scent of musk, sweat and cum coming from Red's skin, the texture of his cock rolling back and forth over his tongue, the heat of the man's skin radiating close to his face and down his throat, even the slight threat of those powerful thighs coming up and closing on his skull added to the mental fog that began to spread inside his mind.

The short thrust from that hip up into his mouth had the blond come back to some level of awareness and those glowing pale blue eyes turned their gaze up to assess how his companion was doing as well as admire his physique, completely unbothered by the many scars on his torso and more interest in how those muscles flexed and relaxed, how his chest rose and fell with each breath Red took, that exposed and strong neck that if Corvus imagine himself kissing and leaving hickey marks on... He truly didn't mind the role he had to take so long as his time with Red was consented and good for both of them.

Another stronger suckle and he heard the call for his name come almost immediately after the drops of precum filled his mouth with the Gotham vigilante's taste, which fulfilled what he wanted to try as the corvid stated before; thus, he began to pull back even before hearing his companion try to order him around — there was no way for his ears to miss the tone that pointed to the divergent desires Red had in himself at that moment.

"I'm a man of my word..." Corvus croaked as he propped himself up and wiped his chin from the saliva that dripped down with one hand, then crawled over the strong and solid body Hood had to be able to reach for the same place from where he produced the first condom and pulled another package out; however, on his way back, the blond couldn't resist being a little mischievous and lowered his face to the man's neck, scrapping some of his sweat covered skin with his frontal teeth from right under Red's ear to the curve of his neck, only to press his tongue right at the over-developed muscle before sucking a hickey there. "... but you sure make it hard to keep it... you're so good, Red."

And because Corvus truly abided to his words and promises, he pulled back to sit slightly lower on his companion's lap while using his teeth to rip open the condom package, and rolled the protection over his length — not without taking the chance to work him out just a little more though, — then, shifted his own weight and body on the mattress to be on his knees and reached between their bodies to guide Hood to his hole again.

The spread of his muscles, although now being a sensation he knew, still had Corvus stopping his breathing for a few seconds as he lowered himself on the head and felt his body want to squeeze and trap the red vigilante right there; the hand that he used to support some of his weight clawed on the bedsheet, pulling on the fabric with his leather covered nails, and his eyes shut close for a moment in order to control himself. Pain and pleasure that numbed the awareness of the outside world and made him focus on Hood alone.

Once the feeling of being spread and filled passed, came the need to have more and he pushed himself down that cock with practiced expertise, first having both hands on his companion's shoulders for support while balance was found, then on his abdomen as half of the length covered his insides, pressing him in all the right places, and finally, once Corvus sat full of the man, both of his hands pulled back to give him full view of the spectacle as he rolled and swayed his hip with Hood inside.

"You can touch if you want."

Huff and puff he was almost certain he could make Hood do, hopefully howl too if he played him the right way and time, and he could sort of sense it coming when the man let out that one word calling a religious figure. For sure there would not be any name calling, they didn't know each other in their civilian selves, but it didn't bother the blond to be called by his nighttime name and it sounded good coming from Hood to a point where he wanted to hear him calling his name, even if it was just once.

To the question about what piqued his curiosity, Corvus let his gaze wander up behind half-lid eyes while his fingers massaged the length lightly. "For starters... what you taste like..." Each words formed against Hood's head as his lips danced over it, his breath hot on the glans, and punctuated with slightly longer pauses between them to give space for a small suckle to the very tip of his. "... but also..." Corvus parted his plumpy lips and brought only the head into his mouth to give it a strong suckle and pull back with a wet popping sound before continuing. "... and I want to have you down on my throat..." Another suckle and this time he got more of Hood into his mouth, used his tongue to cushion the couple of inches inside while his cheeks hollowed and applied pressure to him, head bobbed a couple of times, and then pulled back again to give Hood a moment to gather himself.

A moment that lasted only enough time for Corvus to comb his own hair back, removing his bangs of the way, and he went back to swallowing Hood. First just his head to give it a good clean from his first climax, then the inches necessary to get his mouth full while both hands worked on the rest of his length with light squeezes and massaging in up and down, carefully pulling his foreskin lower to not cause any pain and allow for more of him to go into his mouth.

Little by little the blond worked him down his mouth and throat, patiently giving and taking as he was allowed, he relaxed his jaw and found it thrilling to not be able to breathe when it was his own choice and not someone else forcefully closing his airways, it was a feeling he hadn't had in quite a while and that was thorughly enjoyed. The taste, the hot limb pulsating in his mouth, the small twitches and Hood tried to hold himself back from fucking his mouth, his every change reflected in how his cock reacted to being inside the corvid's mouth.

And like a delicious torture to Hood, Corvus applied pressure to his cock, pulled halfway back only to go down again and repeat the motion, too slow to give him any chance for release, but not so much that he could get used to being there.

Corvus, for all of his talk of being a "good boy" was effectively edging Hood to his whim and having fun in doing so.

[eastons-creations]

I think Dr who writers forgot that the doctors already has a daughter. So it can’t be that shocking.

Like

Why

WHY

I miss her

[kaiist]

𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐃𝐄𝐄𝐏𝐒𝐏𝐀𝐂𝐄 ⋯ 𝐖𝐇𝐄𝐍 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐊𝐈𝐒𝐒 𝐇𝐈𝐌 𝐌𝐈𝐃-𝐀𝐑𝐆𝐔𝐌𝐄𝐍𝐓

𝐗𝐀𝐕𝐈𝐄𝐑

The tension between you and Xavier had been building for the past ten minutes. The living room felt smaller with each passing second, the space between you charged with unspoken frustrations. He remained still as always while you gesticulated wildly, your frustration mounting as you paced back and forth.

“You can’t just disappear for hours without telling me, Xavier! I was worried sick!” Your voice cracked on the last word, betraying how genuinely frightened you’d been.

He stood with perfect posture by the window, hands clasped behind his back. “I apologize. I was helping a neighbor downstairs with their computer system. Time escaped me.” The words were perfectly reasonable, delivered in that maddeningly measured tone he always used.

His calm demeanor only fueled your irritation. How could he be so composed when you’d been imagining the worst? Fatal accidents. Hospital rooms. All the terrible possibilities that had played through your mind on repeat.

“That’s not the point!” you snapped, closing the distance between you. “This is the third time this week you’ve vanished without a word. Do you have any idea what that feels like? To call and text and get nothing back?”

Standing this close, you noticed subtle changes in his expression—his eyebrows furrowed slightly and the corner of his mouth turned down just enough to be noticeable. The tiny muscle along his jaw twitched, and you caught the quickening pulse at his neck despite his outward composure. These microexpressions—so small anyone else would miss them—revealed the emotions he struggled to articulate.

“I didn’t intend to cause distress,” he said quietly, and for once, his voice carried a hint of genuine regret. “The repair was more complex than anticipated. The family had lost access to critical medical records.”

“Oh, so you’re suddenly a mechanic or something?” You exhaled sharply, running your hands through your hair. “Just... call next time. Or text. Anything.”

His eyes met yours, searching. “The thought didn’t occur to me. That was... an oversight.”

Something in his admission—the rare acknowledgment of an emotional mistake rather than a logical error—made your frustration shift into something else entirely. You suddenly become aware of how close you were standing, you can faintly smell the subtle scent of his cologne. Your anger was still there, but beneath it stirred something warmer.

Without thinking, you stepped forward, fingers gripping the soft fabric of his hoodie, and pressed your lips firmly against his. For a moment, everything froze—the argument, your racing thoughts, even time itself.

Xavier went completely still, clearly caught off guard by this abrupt change. You felt the slight intake of his breath against your lips, the momentary tension in his shoulders. Then, like ice melting in the sun, he yielded. His shoulders relaxed, and his hands—initially hovering uncertainly—found their way to your waist, steady and warm through the fabric of your shirt.

The kiss lingered longer than you’d intended, your anger dissolving with each passing second. His lips were surprisingly soft, with the faint taste of the mint tea he always drank in the evenings. What had started as impulse deepened into something tender, the physical connection saying everything words had failed to express between you.

When you finally pulled back, his eyes were wider than usual, pupils slightly dilated. Xavier’s carefully composed expression had cracked completely open, revealing vulnerability you only got to see. A flush colored his cheekbones, making him look younger, more boyish.

“What was that for?” he asked, his voice softer than before, slightly breathless in a way that made your heart skip.

“I... I don’t know,” you admitted, equally breathless. “I’m still mad at you, though.” The declaration lacked conviction even to your own ears, and you couldn’t help the small smile tugging at your lips.

He nodded slowly, thoughtfully, as if processing a complex equation. His thumb traced a gentle circle on your hip where his hand still rested. “I understand your concern,” he said finally, each word carefully chosen. “Next time, I’ll message you.”

You sighed, feeling the last remnants of your anger slipping away. “I just... when I couldn’t reach you, I imagined all these terrible scenarios.” Your forehead dropped against his chest, suddenly exhausted from the emotional whiplash.

“That hadn’t occurred to me, because I usually came back just fine,” he admitted quietly. His arms encircled you fully now, pulling you into an embrace. His heartbeat was steady against your ear, reassuringly present and real.

“Though if this is how our arguments conclude,” he whispered, that subtle teasing tone emerging that only you ever got to hear, “I might be tempted to provoke them more often.”

You smacked his chest lightly, but couldn’t help the laugh that escaped. “Don’t you dare.”

“Noted,” he murmured, pressing a gentle kiss to the top of your head. “Though I make no promises about forgetting the time again. But I will promise to let you know where I am.”

“That’s all I’m asking for,” you whispered against the soft fabric of his hoodie, breathing in his familiar scent. The argument had dissolved, leaving something stronger, more honest in its wake—another layer of understanding between you and this complex, fascinating man you’d fallen for.

𝐙𝐀𝐘𝐍𝐄

The harsh fluorescent lights of the hospital cast everything in an unflattering glow, including Zayne’s stern expression as he worked on your arm. The sharp antiseptic smell permeated the air, mingling with the metallic tang of blood—your blood—that had soaked through your uniform.

“Hold still,” Zayne commanded as he dabbed antiseptic on the gash along your arm. The cool liquid burned against the raw wound, making you inhale sharply.

You winced at the sting but tried to maintain a brave face. “It’s just a scratch,” you said dismissively, though the throbbing told a different story.

His eyes flicked up momentarily from his work, dark with barely contained emotion. “A ‘scratch’ that nearly severed your brachial artery,” he countered, his deft fingers working methodically on the sutures.

You watched his hands as he worked—steady, precise movements born from years of practice. The precision of his gestures contrasted sharply with the tightness around his eyes and the muscle jumping in his jaw. The silence between stitch pulls felt heavier than artillery fire.

“What were you thinking, charging like that without proper clearance?” he finally asked, voice too controlled, too measured to disguise the emotion underneath.

With each stitch, you could feel his conflicting emotions—the methodical doctor warring with the man who clearly cared for you more than he wanted to admit. His eyes remained focused on the wound, but the tension in his shoulders spoke volumes.

“I had intelligence that couldn’t wait,” you defended, though your voice lacked conviction. The pain medication was making it hard to maintain your stubborn front, and his proximity was distracting. Zayne had always been handsome, but there was something about the intensity of his focus, even while angry, that made your pulse quicken in ways that had nothing to do with your injury.

Zayne’s jaw tightened visibly as he reached for the surgical thread again. “Intelligence. Right.” He tied off a stitch with perhaps more force than necessary, making you flinch. His eyes immediately softened with regret for causing additional pain, though his voice remained stern. “And that intelligence was worth risking your life?”

“The mission was—”

“The mission would have failed entirely if you’d bled out in that alley,” he cut in, his voice sharp as a scalpel. “Do you have any idea what it was like—” his voice wavered, “—knowing you’re out there, but not knowing if you’d come out alive?”

The question hung in the air between you, heavy with implications. The rhythmic beeping of medical equipment filled the silence, counting the heartbeats where neither of you spoke. You hadn’t considered that perspective—hadn’t thought about Zayne possibly remembering other battlefields where he’d arrived too late.

As he reached to wrap your arm, you noticed the slight tremor in his usually steady hands. It was subtle—anyone else might have missed it—but you knew those hands too well. They had patched you up countless times, had grabbed you out of harm’s way, had steadied you during your hard times. Now they betrayed his composure in a way his disciplined expression never would.

“You could have died,” he said more quietly as he smoothed the bandage over your skin, his fingers lingering a moment longer than necessary. 

Something in his vulnerability made your chest tighten. The walls you’d both maintained through professional necessity suddenly seemed absurd in the face of how close you’d come to never seeing him again. The realization hit you with unexpected force—what if this had been your last interaction? An argument in a sterile hospital room?

Without overthinking it, you leaned forward and pressed your lips to his, effectively silencing his lecture. You felt his momentary surprise, the stiffening of his shoulders before something like surrender washed through him. The kiss was gentle, an apology and a reassurance wrapped into one. His lips were surprisingly soft against yours.

For a suspended moment, the hospital, the mission, the injury—everything disappeared except the point where you connected. His hand came up to cradle the side of your face, careful to avoid jostling your injured arm. The professional mask he wore so carefully had slipped entirely away, revealing the vulnerability underneath that only you were trusted to see.

When you pulled back, his expression had transformed. The stern doctor was gone. His breath came slightly faster, his eyes searching yours with an intensity that made your heart race.

You gave him your best innocent look, trying to lighten the suddenly charged atmosphere. “Doctor, am I going to make it?”

For a moment, he appeared stunned, lips slightly parted in surprise, a flush rising from beneath the collar of his medical coat. Then he exhaled slowly, the tension in his shoulders visibly releasing. The corner of his mouth twitched upward—not quite a smile, but getting there.

“Your prognosis is favorable,” he murmured. He finished securing the bandage, his touch had gentled considerably. “But I’m prescribing close observation for the next twenty-four hours. My office would be the appropriate location for such monitoring.”

He leaned forward, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead, then traced a path down to your lips again. This second kiss was different—unhurried and deliberate, carrying promises neither of you had voiced aloud. You felt the last of his anger dissolving.

You smiled against his lips, victory achieved. “If that’s your medical opinion, Doctor.”

“It is,” he said, carefully helping you sit up. His hand lingered at the small of your back, steadying you. “And next time, wait for backup. Please.” The ‘please’ was barely audible, a rare moment of naked vulnerability.

It was a plea from someone who couldn’t bear the thought of losing you.

“I promise,” you said softly, reaching for his hand and giving it a gentle squeeze.

𝐑𝐀𝐅𝐀𝐘𝐄𝐋

“Three hours, thirty-seven minutes, and—” Rafayel checked his watch with exaggerated timing, spinning around to face you as you entered his studio, “—fourteen seconds. That’s how long I’ve been waiting.” He threw his hands upward. “Do you know what I could have done in that time? I could have watched Titanic. I could have baked a soufflé—actually, no, three soufflés! I could have learned the basics of Spanish!”

You closed the door behind you, exhaustion evident in your movements. Your muscles ached from the tension of the mission, and your uniform still carried the faint smell of smoke and sweat. The emergency operation had taken everything out of you, but Rafayel was clearly in no mood to be sympathetic.

“I’m sorry, Rafayel. The situation was critical and—”

“Critical enough to not send a single message?” He crossed his arms, leaning against the wall. He paced the room with exaggerated steps, hands gesturing wildly as if conducting an invisible orchestra of grievances. “We had plans. Specific plans that involved a sunset and a dinner reservation that I can’t get back. Do you know how many strings I had to pull? How many favors I called in?”

You dropped your bag with a heavy thud, wincing as your bruised shoulder protested the movement. “Rafayel, please—”

“The restaurant had a two-month waiting list!” He spun again, his silk shirt billowing slightly with the movement. “The chef was going to prepare that ridiculous flaming dessert you like—the one with the sparklers that always makes you smile like a child at a festival.” His voice softened momentarily before hardening again. “I even wore the shirt you like. The one that’s actually uncomfortable but makes my eyes look nice or whatever.”

He wasn’t wrong—the color of the silk did make his eyes look particularly striking, even now as they flashed with indignation. You noticed he’d styled his hair as well, and the realization that he’d put such effort into the evening made your heart twist with guilt.

“There wasn’t time to message anyone,” you explained, sinking onto the couch, too tired to remain standing through his complaints. “The comms were jammed. We barely made it out at all.”

Rafayel narrowed his eyes, studying your face for any sign of deception. “Oh, so it’s technology’s fault now?” He threw his hands up again, accidentally knocking a decorative vase that he caught with surprising reflexes before it could shatter. “Humans and their excuses. Always something or someone else to blame. ‘The sun was in my eyes! The dog ate my homework! The communications were jammed during my super-secret mission!’”

He set the vase down with care despite his agitation—a reminder that for all his dramatic flair, Rafayel was actually quite meticulous. “Next you’ll tell me there were explosions and car chases, like some absurd action movie.”

The accuracy of his sarcastic guess made you hesitate just long enough for his eyes to widen.

“Wait, there were actually explosions? And you’re just walking in here like it’s nothing?” Something flickered across his face—genuine concern breaking through the outrage—before he quickly composed himself again. “Well, that’s... that’s beside the point! The point is I was abandoned. Left to wither away on my own.”

Despite your fatigue, irritation sparked. “I didn’t exactly choose to be ambushed and pinned down for two hours! I wasn’t having fun, Rafayel!”

“And I didn’t choose to sit alone at that ridiculous restaurant while the waiter gave me pitying looks!” he shot back, voice rising as he threw himself into the armchair across from you. “Do you know how humiliating that was? Waiting and waiting while everyone whispered about the poor abandoned man? The maître d’ actually patted my shoulder, like I was some... some tragic figure!”

He ran a hand through his perfectly styled hair, mussing it in a way that somehow made him look even more attractive—an infuriating talent he seemed unaware of. “I ordered wine. I checked my phone approximately nine thousand times. I made up elaborate excuses about my date being a super great hunter called into an emergency mission to save Linkon City.”

The genuine hurt beneath his outrage became suddenly clear. Behind the dramatic gestures and exaggerated language was real pain—the vulnerability of someone who had been genuinely worried. 

You rose from the couch, crossing the small space between you. He continued his rant, though his voice lost some of its conviction as you approached.

“And then I had to walk home alone, past all those disgustingly happy couples who—”

You stepped forward, cupping his face in your hands, and pressed your lips firmly against his. You could feel the exact moment his indignation melted, his body language transforming from rigid offense to relieved surrender. For a moment, he remained stiff, clearly determined to hold onto his righteous anger. Then, with a small sound somewhere between a sigh and a groan, his arms encircled you, pulling you closer until you were practically in his lap.

The kiss tasted faintly of the expensive wine he’d mentioned—he hadn’t been exaggerating about waiting at the restaurant, at least. His fingers tangled in your hair, gentle despite his earlier theatrics, cradling your head as if you were something precious he’d feared losing.

When you pulled away, his pout remained, though considerably less convincing. His lips, slightly reddened from the kiss, contradicted his attempt at maintaining his anger. His fingers traced your cheekbone with a gentleness that contradicted his dramatic words—the clearest sign that you’d been forgiven, even if he wasn’t ready to admit it.

“This changes nothing,” he mumbled, even as his fingers gently traced patterns on your back, discovering and carefully avoiding the spots where you’d been injured. “I’m still upset.”

“I know,” you acknowledged softly, resting your forehead against his. “And I really am sorry about dinner. I know how much trouble you went through to arrange it.”

“You should be,” he huffed, but then rested his forehead against yours, his breath warm against your face. “Do you have any idea how worried I was? The things I imagined? You could have been hurt or—” He stopped himself, swallowing hard. 

“I’m okay,” you assured him, brushing your thumb across his cheekbone. “A few bruises, nothing serious.”

His eyes searched yours, seeing through the minimization. His hand found the tender spot on your shoulder that you’d been trying to hide, his touch feather-light. “Liar,” he said softly, with none of his earlier accusations. “You’re hurt.”

“It’s part of the job,” you reminded him gently. “But I promise I’ll make it up to you.”

“A job that consistently interrupts my meticulously planned romantic gestures,” he complained, but his voice had lost its edge. His fingers moved from your shoulder to your neck, then to your face, as if reassuring himself that you were really there, whole and safe. “But I suppose I’m glad you weren’t permanently damaged. That would have been extremely inconvenient for my future plans.”

𝐒𝐘𝐋𝐔𝐒

“You seem distracted today,” Sylus remarked, watching you from across his office room in the Onychinus’s base. His voice carried that peculiar blend of observation and judgment that never failed to set your teeth on edge. “Something troubling that brilliant mind of yours?”

You’d been on edge all morning, his casual observations hitting every nerve. The mission report in front of you blurred as you tried to focus on anything besides his piercing gaze from across the room. Each time he passed behind your chair, you could feel his presence like electricity, deliberately invading your space as if testing your limits.

“Nothing’s wrong,” you replied tersely, gripping your pen tighter.

“Clearly.” His lips curled into that infuriating smirk that made you want to either slap him or— No. You refused to follow that train of thought. “That’s why you’ve been glaring daggers at the same report for twenty minutes. Fascinating reading material, is it?”

“I’m concentrating.” You made a show of turning the page, though you hadn’t absorbed a single word from the previous one.

“On setting it ablaze with your eyes, perhaps?” He chuckled, the sound rich and smooth like aged whiskey—a sound that would be pleasant in any other context, from any other person. He pushed away from his ornate desk, crossing the room with that grace that seemed to define his every movement. “Come now, sweetie. You know I can see right through you.”

Your grip tightened on your pen until your knuckles whitened. Today, his typical banter felt like sandpaper on raw skin. The weight of the failed mission hung heavy on your shoulders—a mission he’d asked you to accompany him. The subtle way his eyes had followed you since your return suggested he knew exactly how it had gone wrong, and was simply waiting for you to admit it.

The mission had been stressful enough without his commentary, and you’d specifically chosen to work in his office for the quiet atmosphere, not the running commentary. The irony wasn’t lost on you—seeking peace in the devil’s lair—but the alternative was the bustling common areas where questions about the mission would be impossible to avoid.

“Perhaps it’s the negotiations?” he continued, leaning against your desk, invading your personal space with calculated precision. The subtle scent of his cologne—something expensive and custom-made, no doubt—wrapped around you like an unwelcome embrace. “Your strategy was... unconventional. Though I must say, watching you attempt to outmaneuver your opponent was quite entertaining. Like watching a chess novice challenge a grandmaster.”

His words struck with precision, targeting exactly where you felt most vulnerable. The negotiations had fallen apart spectacularly, though not for lack of preparation on your part. Sylus had blamed it on a few of his henchmen, he’ll deal with them later for forgetting to mention some details that caused you to stress yourself out.

“Or maybe it’s that little encounter with one of my rivals the day before yesterday?” he pressed on, leaning closer, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper that forced you to incline toward him despite yourself. “I heard of how that meeting concluded.”

That was the breaking point. The pen in your hand snapped, ink staining your fingers like evidence of a crime. In one fluid motion, you stood from your chair, the sudden movement causing Sylus to straighten, a flash of surprise crossing his features before his customary smirk returned.

“Would you just—” The words caught in your throat, frustration making it impossible to articulate exactly what you wanted from him. Silence? An apology? Some acknowledgment that he’d set you up to fail although it’s not entirely his fault?

Instead of finishing your sentence, you grabbed his perfectly pressed collar and yanked him down, crushing your lips against his. It wasn’t gentle or sweet—it was pure frustration translated into action, teeth clashing, fingers gripping fabric tight enough to wrinkle the expensive material.

The stunned widening of his eyes gave you a flash of satisfaction—finally something had caught the ever-composed Sylus off-guard. For a heartbeat, he remained completely still, his usual grace abandoned in genuine surprise. Then his hand moved to the back of your neck, fingers tangling in your hair as he responded with unexpected intensity.

What had started as an impulsive act of defiance quickly transformed into something more. The kiss deepened, his other hand finding the small of your back, drawing you closer with surprising strength. Heat bloomed where his fingers pressed, spreading through your body like wildfire. The taste of him—bitter coffee and something sweeter underneath—was intoxicating in the worst possible way.

When you broke away, breathless and disoriented, you glared up at him. “Shut. Up.”

For perhaps the first time this week, Sylus appeared genuinely caught off balance. His usual perfect composure had slipped, collar askew, a hint of color high on his sharp cheekbones. Something flashed in his eyes—surprise, certainly, but also something darker, more intense that made your pulse quicken despite yourself.

Rather than appearing offended, Sylus looked thoroughly entertained once he recovered, eyes gleaming with intrigue. He straightened slowly, adjusting his collar that drew attention to his long fingers.

“Well,” he murmured, voice slightly rougher than his usual polished tones, “that’s certainly one way to request silence.” His tongue darted out to touch his lower lip briefly, as if sampling the taste you’d left there. “Effective, if unorthodox.”

But true to your demand, he didn’t speak further. Instead, he returned to his chaise lounge across the room, picking up his own work with an amused expression that should have infuriated you but somehow didn’t.

The silence stretched between you, no longer suffocating. You returned to your report, finding it suddenly easier to focus with Sylus’s voice no longer needling at your concentration. Occasionally, you felt his gaze on you, but whenever you glanced up, he was seemingly absorbed in his own work, though the ghost of a smile played around his lips.

After you’d made significant progress through the stack of files, a steaming cup of your favorite tea appeared at your elbow without warning. The delicate china cup—part of an antique set Sylus guarded jealously—was filled with the precise shade and aroma that you preferred, complete with the exact amount of honey you favored.

When you looked up questioningly, Sylus merely raised an eyebrow, as if to say, ‘See? I can be helpful when not talking.’ His smirk had softened around the edges, a truce offering in the form of perfectly brewed tea.

Despite yourself, you felt a smile tugging at your lips. You raised the cup in silent acknowledgment, a momentary peace established in the aftermath of that impulsive kiss.

As you sipped the tea—prepared exactly as you liked it, proving he’d been paying far more attention than you’d given him credit for—you wondered which one of you had actually won this particular skirmish. Based on the satisfied gleam in his eye whenever he glanced your way, Sylus clearly thought he had the upper hand.

But as the afternoon wore on in productive silence, punctuated only by the occasional meaningful glance, you weren’t entirely sure you’d lost either.

𝐂𝐀𝐋𝐄𝐁

The drive back to Caleb’s apartment was suffocating with silence. Rain streaked across the windshield, city lights blurring into watery halos as he navigated the evening trafficking Skyhaven. His knuckles were white on the steering wheel, jaw set in that way that meant he was holding back words—a dam of frustration ready to break at any moment.

You stared out the passenger window, your reflection ghostly against the glass, unable to look at him directly. You’d avoided him for three days after the mission went sideways. Three days of ducking into supply closets when you heard his footsteps in the corridor, of swapping shifts with anyone willing, of ignoring the increasingly terse messages on your comm unit. It wasn’t rational—you knew that—but facing him after your mistake in the field felt impossible.

The car stopped at a red light, engine humming. Raindrops raced down the window, merging and separating like the strategies you should have coordinated better during the operation. In the reflection of the glass, you could see Caleb’s profile—strong jaw tensed, eyes fixed straight ahead, the small scar above his eyebrow more pronounced in the harsh street lighting.

Neither of you had spoken since he’d found you in the briefing room, simply saying “We need to talk” in that Colonel voice that brooked no argument. Now, pulling into the parking space at his building, you still hadn’t found the words to bridge the chasm between you.

He unlocked his door, letting you enter first. The familiarity of his place—the orderly bookshelves, the single plant you’d given him that somehow thrived despite his frequent absences, the subtle scent of coffee and cologne he wore—made your chest ache with a complicated emotion. You couldn’t meet his eyes, focusing instead around the room—everything in its place except for the emotions threatening to spill over between you.

The moment the door closed behind you with a soft click, the tension broke.

“Three days,” he stated, voice unnervingly calm as he set his keys in the exact same spot they always occupied on the entryway table. “No communications, dodging my calls, switching shifts.” Each offense listed with the precision of military charges being read.

You shrugged, aiming for casual while removing your jacket, though your hands betrayed you with a slight tremor. “I’ve been busy.”

“Lying doesn’t suit you,” he said, stepping closer, the controlled anger in his voice making it lower than usual. “Never has.” He moved into your space, not touching you but close enough that you could feel the heat radiating from him, smell the rain on his uniform mingling with his cologne. “I know exactly what you’re doing. Running away because you think I blame you for what happened.”

Your breath caught. Of course he’d figured it out—he always did. Caleb could read encryptions and enemy movements with uncanny accuracy, but his ability to decode your thoughts sometimes felt even more disarming.

“People could have died because of my call,” you whispered, finally voicing the fear that had been haunting you for days. Your hands clenched and unclenched at your sides, the phantom feeling of your weapon during that critical moment when everything had gone wrong.

“But they didn’t,” he countered. His voice remained firm but had lost some of its edge. “The team is safe. The mission objectives were achieved, if not in the way we planned.”

“That’s not the point,” you argued, finally meeting his gaze. The intensity there nearly made you step back. “I ignored direct orders—your orders. I put everyone at risk because I thought I knew better.”

“You made a judgment call in the field,” he corrected, running a hand through his rain-dampened hair. The gesture, so uncharacteristically nervous for him, revealed just how deeply the situation had affected him, too. “What I can’t accept is you avoiding me afterward. Avoiding the team. Avoiding the debrief where we could have addressed what happened.”

“And avoiding me doesn’t change what happened or help us prevent it next time,” he continued, his voice softening. “The team needs you. I need—” He stopped, seeming to catch himself. “The mission requires all officers and you, Miss Hunter, to be present for debriefing. That’s protocol.”

The retreat behind protocol stung worse than his anger. The distance he was deliberately placing between you—falling back on rank and procedure—felt like a physical wound. The intensity in his eyes was too much to bear.

Before he could continue his lecture, before he could retreat further behind the wall of Colonel, you surged forward, grasping his collar and pulling him down into a desperate kiss. The kiss was both surrender and defiance—an apology you couldn’t voice and a desperate plea to move past the wall building between you.

For a heartbeat, he remained rigid, hands stiff at his sides. Then, like ice thawing, he responded, one hand cradling the back of your head while the other wrapped around your waist, drawing you flush against him. The rain had chilled his lips, but they quickly warmed against yours, the taste of something uniquely him making your heart race.

What had begun as impulse deepened into something more profound. His fingers tangled in your hair, angling your head to deepen the kiss. The carefully maintained distance of the past days dissolved with each passing second, replaced by an urgency that spoke of relief and lingering fear—fear that the rift between you might have been permanent.

When you finally broke apart, both slightly breathless, his expression had transformed. The stern Colonel was gone, replaced by just Caleb—your Caleb—with unguarded emotion in his eyes. His shoulders relaxed for what felt like the first time in days.

“Don’t be mad at me like that...” you whispered. You could feel the rapid beat of his heart where your bodies pressed together.

His expression had softened even more, he could never stay mad at you for long, not when you looked at him like this.

“That won’t work every time,” he murmured, though the smile playing at his lips suggested otherwise. His thumb traced gentle circles at the small of your back.

“Seems to be working now,” you replied, relieved to see the anger dissipating like morning fog. You pressed your forehead against his chest, listening to his heartbeat gradually slow to its usual steady rhythm.

Caleb sighed, one hand still tangled in your hair, gently massaging your scalp in that way he knew always calmed you. The rain continued to patter against the windows. “You know why I was angry, don’t you?” he asked quietly, his voice rumbling through his chest against your ear.

You nodded slightly. “Because I disobeyed a direct order.”

“No,” he said, pulling back just enough to tilt your chin up, forcing you to meet his gaze. “Because you disappeared afterward. Because for three days, I didn’t know if you were okay—not physically, but here.” He tapped gently at your temple. “Missions go wrong. Plans fall apart. That’s the nature of what we do. But we process it together.”

“I thought you’d be disappointed in me.”

“I was disappointed you didn’t trust me enough to face me,” he corrected, his hand moving to cup your cheek. “We’re partners in this, in all of it. The good calls and the bad ones.”

“I promise,” you whispered. “No more running. No matter what happens, we face it together.”

Something in your tone must have convinced him, because the last traces of tension left his body. He pressed his lips to your forehead, the gesture tender in a way that made your heart ache. 

“Good,” he murmured against your skin. “Because the next time you go dark on me for three days, I’m sending the entire squadron to find you.”

After five hours of writing with plenty of breaks (read: procrastination and distraction), and I finally finished my longest scenario yet. This ended up being one of my favorites, as I truly enjoyed the writing process and got completely carried away.

[jinwoosungs]

04/21/25; 07:30pm

{ 18+ drabbles / headcanons }

[ they catch you while you’re ovulating ]

featuring: sylus, zayne, xavier, rafayel, caleb

notes: don’t mind me, i just got a short burst of inspiration with all these ovulation memes 🙂‍↕️

[ minors don’t interact; by choosing to interact with this content, you have consented to viewing something n-fw despite the warnings. ]

sylus was the first to awaken when he felt you straddling at his waist. he doesn’t open his eyes, but chooses instead to lay in wait for you. his breathing was slow and even, further accentuating his act of remaining asleep.

the silky material of your nightgown was felt sliding down his chest, his breathing hitching in response to such a seductive sensation. it takes a herculean effort for his eyes to remain closed when he feels your hot breath against his skin.

yet his façade quickly vanishes the moment your lips latch on to his chest, feeling the way your tongue curls around his nipple while letting out a low hiss in response. when he fully wakes up did you move away from him, onyx eyes meeting with your innocent gaze as your fingertips trace at his hard wall of muscle.

“what’s gotten you so riled up, kitten?” sylus asks you, delving his fingers into your hair. you don’t answer him for a few beats, licking at your bottom lip as the onychinus leader follows each movement of your tongue. “i’m not sure, sy, i just woke up feeling so needy for you.”

you end up laying back against him, placing your panties stained with the evidence of your arousal on his hard abdomen. all too eager to see what you had to offer, sylus places an arm behind his head while watching your every move. you place one more kiss against his chest before planting your hands against it, steadying yourself while moving your aching sex back and forth on his abdomen.

your breathing quickly turns into whiny moans of his name, “ngh, sy, this feels so good…!” your movements become more rapid then, your hips losing its steady pace as it became sloppier with each second that passes. sylus could sense that your release was quickly approaching when his hands go up to grip at your waist, moving you toward his muscled thigh while clenching his muscles to help.

the friction was enough to make you climax, with you completely ruining your panties as your juices soaked through the flimsy fabric. your scent permeating at the air forces a low growl out of sylus as he removes you from his thigh.

settling you back against the bed, sylus rips apart your sheer nightgown, admiring the sight of your naked breasts and soaked panties for a brief moment before cupping at his erection. “you’re driving me crazy, sweetie. so i hope you’re prepared for what’s to come.”

it was often a rare occurrence for zayne to have a day off and actually enjoy it. and despite how you wanted to keep your distance to give him some space-

something about him had set you in a bit of a frenzy.

from his tousled hair to the faint scent of his aftershave-

you couldn’t seem to get enough of him.

each time he would look up from his novel and meet your gaze, his smile would be potent enough to make your heart lurch within your chest and the ache between your legs feel even more prominent. as if running on autopilot, you step closer to his side of the bed, putting down his novel before settling yourself on top of him.

he meets your gaze with furrowed eyebrows, “what is it?”

you shake your head, remaining silent as you trail your hands down his chest. his breathing hitches in response to your sudden touch, and you slowly began to unbutton his shirt before sliding it off of him. the fabric falls to the ground, leaving his upper body bare for you. he attempts to cover his hands, but you stop him, seeing the faint scars that decorate his skin while kissing at them.

“don’t hide yourself away from me. not when you’re the one i love the most.”

basking in his warmth, you press a few kisses down his abdomen, seeing the faint trail of hair that leads further down his sweatpants. “sorry zayne, something about you has become so captivating to me.”

you slowly slide down his pants and boxers, revealing his half-erect cock to you. sliding out of your own shorts and panties, you slowly began stroking him with the underside of your cunt, effectively causing the doctor to toss his head back.

“ngh… honey, are you ovulating right now?”

you bite down on your bottom lip, “i don’t give a fuck what it’s called, all i know is that i need you right now.”

when zayne’s cock was hard enough for your liking did you finally impaled yourself on him, making him cry out your name as you began setting a rapid pace. as you bounced up and down his cock, zayne was felt gripping at the sheets below him, falling even more in love with you each time you sank down on him.

xavier needed no further urging when you begged him to let you ride his face. in fact, the philos prince was already laid back on the bed (naked and ready for you) when you re-entered your shared bedroom.

your knees were clashing together, trying to provide some much needed friction as you became desperate for his mouth on you. he meets your gaze, seeing the sheer neediness in your eyes when he demands that you take a seat.

“you already know that i’m willing to do everything to make you happy.”

“but what if i suffocate you?” you take a step closer to the bed, letting out a gasp when xavier wraps an arm around your naked body. using one hand, he places you on his chest, true blue eyes now hidden by an endless void, “you won’t. go on and sit on it.”

the hoarse quality of his voice sends shivers down your spine, and you had to mentally prepare yourself for what was to come. when the ache between your legs became too much to bear did you finally make a move.

moving closer to him, you lift yourself above his face, feeling your arousal dripping from its center. before you could even change your mind, it was xavier who brings you down on him using his strength alone. the pleasure was immediate, with you feeling his tongue traveling deep within your slick walls. he began greedily devouring you, soaking up all you had to offer as his tongue kept pounding itself in and out of you.

and when he gently sucks on your swollen bundle of nerves was when you felt your climax quickly approaching. a broken cry of his name was all you could manage when you allowed your release to rush out of you and into his awaiting mouth.

you were in a daze at the end of your release, allowing the pinpricks of pleasure to course through you when xavier lifts your body off of him-

only to sit up before pressing your body down on his cock. with a startling accuracy, xavier manages to pierce through you, eyes going wild as he fucks himself into your heat. your soft moans echo throughout the room as you brace yourself onto xavier’s shoulder, losing count of the times he made you cum.

there was a strange heat felt coursing through your veins, filling you to the brim with red hot desire. you had woken up from what you assumed was a nap that lasted far too long for your liking-

leaving you itching with a need to be filled.

getting out of bed, you slowly began peeling off your clothes, your bare feet padding against the flooring of your beloved’s home. you had barely stepped foot into his studio when he opens the door, nostrils flared while raking his eyes down your form.

“you need me, don’t you?”

so caught off guard by his bold question, you were given little time to react when he pulls you into his studio, setting your naked body on the couch as he settles himself between your thighs.

“i swear i could smell you before you even came to see me.”

heat blossoms across your veins, making you feel shy all of a sudden, since the lemurian just confirmed that he knew when you were the most needy for him. spreading your legs a little wider for him, rafayel introduces a finger within your soaked walls, pumping them in and out of you all while exploring your center with a hedonistic curiosity.

“you feel so soft around my fingertips, princess, yet i just know you’ll feel that much better around my cock.” he continues to play your body like an instrument, drawing out your moans as they echo throughout the studio like a sinful lullaby. your arousal drips down from your center and into his fingertips, earning a groan from the young artist.

“you are going to be the absolute death of me, princess.”

removing his hand from your aching sex, rafayel meets your hazy eyes while licking away the evidence of your arousal. letting out a hum of approval, he spreads your legs once more, inhaling your scent before placing his mouth on you. your center was now completely engulfed by his hot mouth, with your hands delving themselves into his hair as you immersed yourself in the pleasure he had given you.

when you admit to caleb about having a wet dream about him, he was relentless with his questioning, wanting to know every last detail of your dream. through embarrassing stutters, you manage to tell caleb as much as you could remember-

which was how you found yourself in this current position, your cunt aching for him with your front pressed against the bed as caleb remains settled behind you. you couldn’t see him, yet you could feel the way he lifts you up by the hips, forcing your bottom half into an upright position with your heated face pressed against the pillows.

feeling the colonel’s hands tracing at your ass, you gasp when he gives it a hard smack!, chuckling darkly before spreading your legs even wider for him, “why so embarrassed, pips? isn’t this just me makin’ your dreams come true?”

he angles your hips slightly, revealing your center to him as he brushes the tip of his cock against your outer lips. trembling at the sensation, you let out a moan the moment he slides into you, making you feel every inch of his pulsating cock.

completely behind you now, caleb braces himself on the bed before pistoning his hips in and out of you, the sound of his cock rapidly moving echoing throughout the room. the sensation of it all was enough to leave you a drooling mess, with your back arched as you take in his cock over and over again in this new position.

“heh, you’re so cute…” caleb leans down to playfully whisper within your ear while thrusting into you, “now tell me, isn’t the real deal more satisfying than a mere dream?”

end notes: unedited, but i kept seeing these ovulation memes with all the women getting needy for their men on my page and had to write something as inspiration 🤤 maybe ill change my status to semi-hiatus thanks to these short bursts of inspiration ♡

all stories are written by rei; please do not repost, plagiarize, or translate my works!!

[redcherrykook]

──𐙚 teach me daddy (s & f)

────୨ৎ────

boyfriend!jungkook x virgin!reader

content: daddy kink, ddlg themes, Jungkook teaching his innocent, virgin gf how to..; touch him (blowjob) and how he touches her (fingering, lil tit play) !! hickies, sweet talk, lowkey dumbification, praise, cumming on stomach, guided, petite oc!!! Size.kink. so much dirty talk. so many pet names, FILTH.

note from cherry: put my whole sopping pussy in this. im a whore. My fav trope pls i hope i did it justice

────୨ৎ────

Jungkook's lovely, borderline magical finger tips create his usual pieces of invisible art upon your skin, right underneath the frilly fabric of your pink skirt, that top of your soft thigh squished against him, because his lap- specifically the bulge inside of his grey stüssy sweats- has become your favorite spot to sit on. Somewhere in between lush kisses and feathery moans elicited by the fluttered bruises he lays down the lane of your neck, you've understood one thing;

It feels so warm- so good to sit on that tent that forms in your older boyfriends pants, visible every time you bite your lip and stare at him with huge round, pleading eyes- every passing, electrifying fraction of a moment you spend threading through his deliciously laid, tussled mullet, or tracing the colorful lines etched into his hardened muscles, almost like you're coloring the small pictures in with your glittery gel nails.

Feels so good to hear low groans from your boyfriend's throat, experiencing your clit pulsing inside those little lacy panties, while consciously avoiding the sensation of a large wet patch making them cling to your untouched folds, it felt tingly, you had just told him.

"Tingly?" he asks, plucking back a delicate strand of your hair,

"Mhm.. like it wants attention. s'how i feel when i hump my stuffies" another small- fleeting detail you deemed insignificant, however it continues to feed into the hunger growling primally in jungkook's chest, wanting to expand outward, tear out of his gentle strokes that accidentally find your nipples, on occasions where he should be content with your petite frame inside the solid embrace of his own- oh so hungry body.

But he isn't content, not now that you've revealed you're pussy has kissed the very stuffies he's bought for you, seen you go starry eyed at.

His mind races with images of you- you in your bare glory, one he hasn't seen but there is no doubt in his mind you're an angel, sat on top of that plush hello kitty, dragging your wet, overstimulated clit over it's button nose- over and over, until there's drool running down the corners of your pout- until your eyebrows crunch together in pure delight. He wonders if you're the type to beg, ramble out your needs like a lost little deer.

His cock throbbs in anticipation, his primal instincts scream for him to take care of you whole, explore every inch of your sweet, sweet vessle. Jungkook has to know more- has to know everything.

"And how does my pretty girl hump her stuffies?" he innocently questions, hiking his hands up further on your small legs, crawling to your inner thighs, the digits raise goosebumps on your skin and a pink hue on your cheeks, it complements you- he thinks, harmonizing with your glossy pink lips.

"Hmph.. jus'.. sit on them.. r-rub back.. n' forth" your whispered reply has him drop into a lower, deeper tone, assessing how your body subconsciously responds to his teasing, bucks forward the smallest, almost unnoticeable bit.

"And what happens when babygirl does that?" you whine- leaning your lips to ghost against his own, the tingly feel rises again, floods your panties in an instant because his sudden dominance drowns you in its strangling hold,

"I feel good"

Jungkook creeps his large palm up, cupping your pussy boldy through the thin girlish fabric,

"Haa-ah" moaning, you give way into his palm, playing into his hands because you belong no where else, in response, his thumb extends, rubbing over where your clit sits puffily,

"Yeah..? right here is where it feels good, doesn't it princess?" liquid smooth as he talks, applying pressure to your needy bud,

"Mhm" you nod- whimpering against his pierced lip. In the flashes of his tight circles, you cannot bring yourself to keep your mouths attached- to focus on maintaining a healthy breath when your flower is being treated with the most careful sexuality "This feels better daddy" you say airyly, lips barely touching.

His breath stalls before it hitches once again- the title found him so righteously, so naturally succumbing to his deserved role- your daddy.

"Fuck sugar, it does hm? Let daddy take care of you, make you feel all warm and tingly"

After all, you're his special little princess,

The one with a cute pout that he wishes to see wrapped around his angry cock, he had envisioned this moment countless of times, fisting himself late at night- the soft snores come from your end of the phone, purely, innocently sleeping in the white glow of your screen, big, soft facial features lay peacefully against your pillow.

Even though the sins run carelessly on his end- he never bothered to mute himself, you kept sleeping, dreaming away,

Somtimes, he desired for you to wake up; he'd groan a bit louder, more vulgar with his endless cussing, thought about how your pupils grow wide, how your lips would part into a gasp- wish that you'd timidly run your thumb over your clit at the unfamiliar warmth spreading through your little purity, ruined, emerged in his perversion.

You nod, already going droopy eyed at the simple action of his thumb thrumming your pearl,

The cold air hits your sopping cunt as he peels your delicate panties to the side, giving him a full view of your flower, skin slick with desire

"You have the prettiest little pussy, so cute, does she want to be played with?" his tone is so- so gentle, yet, its dripping with power, entranced with the view of his- yes his very own digits that faintly glide between your folds,

"Yes- nghh shit- koo" your manicured nails dig into his meaty thighs, grounding yourself in a failed attempt to hold your head up, the foreign urgency consumes your entire being with it's intensity,

"Look at me sugar" he commands, growling lowly, his eyes squint to the ones of a predator, you- his prey, look at him like he has always known you would- wide eyed, doe eyed, awaiting his instructions

"Good girl. Now tell me again, do you want daddy to show you how to feel really good hm? How to play with your tiny cunt?"

You nod dumbly, letting out the smallest sounding yes that had ever grazed his ears, he purrs, taking in the effort with an open heart,

"Suck on them, need them nice and wet, can you do that for me princess?" his fingers intrude your bitten lips, forcing his digits to collide with your tongue, eagerly- messily and uncoordinated, you swirl your tongue around them, humming as he withdraws- letting out a satisfied groan

You wince a bit upon the proding of his fingertips against your entrance, unexpectedly, you look at him- begging for him to take you with him, guide you by the hand along everything he does, take your hand like a good daddy should.

The substantial need to make you feel safe takes over again, courses throughout his entire being because you look so vulnerable like this, so barely laid out for him to consume.

"it's okay babygirl, it's gonna feel so good. Daddy's gonna put a finger inside this pussy, you'll feel a bit full, but my precious little girl's so good, she can take it all" he can feel your body relax on top of his lap, as if your muscles let go of all tension with his reassurances- he's on the edge of feeling bad for wanting to ruin your purity.

But he does it regardless.

Wet, sloppy sounds fill your ears as he pumps his finger inside of you. The rhythm starts slowly, one push- one long drag between your folds before returning to pulling out, pushing back in carefully. He studies the subtle change in your expression, diligently grasping at the strings of your arousal- his own eyes can't choose between the look of lust on your face and his hand colliding with your sweetness, feeling how you suck his finger in with every fiber of your being, so untouched, so pure- so, so needy.

You squirm, wrap your hand around his bulging bicep- "Daddy- that feels so good, feels so so good" you continue mumbling, singing the cutest moans to numb his thoughts, feed his hunger, he turns greedy- allowing himself to drown in you entirely, granting himself premission to increass his speed, push in deeper- you gratify him, become louder, whiner, give yourself over because truthfully- you didn't know anything outside of how good it feels to be fingered like this.

"Yeahhh, feels so good to have daddy's fingers? think you can take another one?" Patiently he waits for your allowance- and once he heared that needy voice of yours, calling out for him to push another finger in, he snaps,

"Fuck sugar, look at you, such good girl f'me, feel so full don't you?" His lips latch back on to your neck as he pumps into you faster, curling his fingers into you like he's crawling into your body, establishing his ability to make you squirm- make you whimper and lose that pretty head of yours in his sinful lure.

So you do lose yourself- start whining for him to keep hitting that spot- right there daddy- you beg,

"Yeah? My babygirl loves this- loves my fingers making your cunt feel good. All mine, my little pussy, no one can have you like this"

"Right there ohh? Can you say that again sugar?" Thoughtlessly, obediently ylu start repeating, rehearsing the words like you're summoning him- your legs jerk, contract the muscle with a moan so pronounced jungkook could cum all over himself at the pure nuance of it.

"mmhm! s'too much- feels like i- like i'm gonna-" Your eyes roll far into your skull at the lingering of his teeth on your jaw, his tongue that shamelessly licks a strip up to your ear so he can coax you into intoxicating pleasure.

"Like what little girl? Gonna make a mess?"

At that- at the last syllable of his sentence, you release your arousal over the whole long inches of his fingers that are still relentlessly pushing into your hole, plucking out roughly- shoved back in, "Goood girl" he rasps, slapping his soaked fingertips over your overstimulated cunt. You did not know better than to leave gasps into his now bitten, ridiculously broad shoulder, shudder in overstimulation, tug at the roots of his chocolate mullet,

Your bedroom grows quiet, pleasure rings in your ears, wrecks you from the top of your head to your toes, colorful sparks fly behind your eyelids as it keeps going, keeps flooding out of your body like it had never done before.

Your boyfriends entire demeanor changes once his ragged breathing returns to soft hums, his healing hands cover more than half of your back and he just lets you bathe in the aftershocks, "Did so well for daddy, my good girl" The whispers find your hair, his pecks follow, decorating your journey back to a grounded reality with beautiful stars, safety,

As he´s rubbing up and down your back under the fabric of your cami, your skin erupts into familiar goosebumps, only this time, he feels your stiff nipples rub against his own, sweaty chest, the friction makes you hiss involuntairly,

"How do i feel good here ?" The muttered curiosity behind your words makes Jungkook moan audibly- reaches his hands to slide around your torso, your rips flutter in response, "Let me show you"

Your cami shrivles up over the swell of your small chest, cupped snuggly in your white sparkly bra, his hands cover your entire breasts easily, the twinkle in his vision is unmistakable,

lust, utter need

"Gon´ pull these down baby, show your pretty body to me" vision going white, he rushes to wrap his lips around the stiff bud, encircling it with his tongue, "All mine, my tits, my little girl, these belong to me" He takes his time- devours you, flicking the tip of his tongue over and over, you recoil forward, moan helplessly under how good he´s making you feel,

Jungkook returns the favour, moans into your skin that arches closer into his mouth,

"Want me to give you some attention too? Gonna rub it like this baby, roll it in between your fingers" The instructions help to remember what is happening between the chasm of gasps and whimpers, the throbbing between your aching legs returns in unbearable force- rises with every collision of his rough palms rounding your soft skin, he nibbles, sucks, bites gracefully into the sensitive flesh.

"Daddy- daddy stop please" the wet sensation leaves in the blink of an eye, his gaze glistens over with worry- hands immediately running to your comfort, soothing your arms, "M´sorry my love, too much? Wanna stop here?"

You shake your head violently, wanting to sob at the thought of stopping, you´ve never felt need like this, urges like this- borderline possessed as you tug at his waistband, his eyes widen, holding both your wrists in his calloused hand "Woah babygirl, slow down, what is it that daddy´s princess wants?" He asks genuinely, running his lips over your jaw but his cock betrays him, throbs painfully as you whimper for him, mutter for him to show you how to make him feel good too. He didn't want to pretend to be innocent anymore- your boyfriend had been praying to have you like this, why would he deny you if you so desperately wish to pleasure him anyways?

Feverishly, your small hands expose his member, appreciating the hard outline in his calvins before reaching in- finding the warm length that can, in no way, fit even in the grasp of both your fidgety hands,

"It´s so pretty, so big" You praise, staring in awe at the sight in front of you, a pearl of his arousal runs down alongside the vein of his shaft, Jungkook growls, scratching your scalp with his tattooed hand,

"All yours. come on sugar, little kisses, lick it a bit, i´ll be loud for you"

It´s not like it was his choice regardless, not when you lay your tongue flat against his tip, tracing every inch of him. You lick up and down his pulsating cock, look up at him through your feminine, innocently batted eyelashes as if to ask if he feels good- he groans, tightens his hand with each torturous slow lick to him, how could he not feel good?

"Good little girl, taking daddy so well, need you to take it in your mouth now okay? Can you be good and try to swallow daddy´s cock?"

You nod- god you´d do anything he asks, hesistantly, your lips coat his fat tip, opening your throat as he feeds you his girth, hitting the back of your throat in an instant- you try your best to ignore the gag, focus on the wetness of your cunt and his breathless curses.

It´s even more erotic than he had imagined, you do pout; your lips barely fit in his cock, not able to get half of it into the confined space of your jaw- his stomach flips at your hand that wraps around the rest of him- while the other one clenches his inner thigh for support, marks his skin in reminders. The look in your willing eyes, the struggle to take his inches as your own spit escapes your mouth- it´s becoming something he will get addicted to in no time,

"Ssh i know daddy´s big babygirl, but you´re made for me, breathe through your nose, goood job baby" its fuel, fuel to your insatiable greed for him, you follow instinct, bob up and down with the help of his hand on the back of your head, throat contracting around him and shit- Jungkook is sure if your throat is this tight sucking him off, your virgin pussy must feel like heaven too.

"Just like thaaat, yeah sugar, makin´ me feel so fucking good" He continues, thighs flexing with the constricting feeling in his balls, release bubbles up fast, rapidly banging his system- your boyfriend grips you by the jaw, to have you make eye contact with his half lidded brown stars, "Lay down f´me"

Sprawled out, tummy laid open, your hair flows over your tits, eyes watch him stroking his cock in heavy, aggressive movements, rubbing his thumb over the pink swollen tip- he pants, groans so fucking loud you instinctively spread your thighs for him- clenching around nothing- begging silently for him to give you everything.

At the sight of your cunt covered in your own, copious amount of slick and previous orgasm, he´s struck down mercilessly, it rides him over the edge and soon enough, he splurts his milky cum all over your lower stomach, he shakes- calls out for you.

"My little princess, look so beautiful like this, god i fucking love you"

You giggle girlishly- a sound from the deep chambers of your now, perverted heart as he engulfs you in his hold, "Baby you´re-" his mouth finds yours again, not letting you protest but he's soft, grateful "I don´t care, you´re mine, my baby, all mine" Another kiss, another smile, "Thank you, thank you sugar" he mumbles, holding your flushed out cheeks in his big hands, searching for familiar innocents within your face and unsurprisingly so, he still discovers it.

[angelx]

i cant stop imagining katsuki x reader like this

(giggles like a whore) i'm dead, literally. this had me feel things

NSFW! steamy tension, nipple play (through shirt), pussy stimulation, dirty talk, bf!katsuki x fem!reader

Katsuki was supposed to be getting dressed. You were supposed to be getting ready to go out.

But none of that was happening, because the second he walked into the room and saw you standing there in just your soft, body-hugging shirt and those lacey little panties with the bows on the sides—you were done for.

“You’re not wearin’ a bra,” he said, matter-of-fact.

You blinked. “...No?”

He stepped forward, tilting his head, hands already lifting to cup your tits through the thin fabric like he owned them. “Didn’t ask if you forgot,” he muttered, voice low and sinful. “I asked if you were doin’ it on purpose.” (he didn't really asked).

You opened your mouth—maybe to sass him, maybe to tease—but it came out as a shaky “Ah—” because his thumbs had already found your nipples through the shirt, flicking them in slow, taunting little circles.

“Thought so,” he smirked. “You know how fuckin’ sensitive you are.”

You gasped, breath catching hard as he rolled the buds between his fingers. The shirt wasn’t doing a damn thing to protect you—not when he was this focused, this deliberate. His fingers moved in lazy flicks, alternating pressure, making your knees go weak with every pass.

“K-Katsuki…”

He leaned in close, mouth hovering over yours but not quite kissing. His hands never stopped moving.

“You walkin’ around in this tiny ass shirt, nipples all perky and beggin’ for attention like you don’t know what that does to me?” His voice dropped to a growl. “You’re lucky I haven’t pinned you down yet.”

He gave one more flick, watching your body jolt in response.

“Tch. Look at you. All that squirming and I haven’t even taken it off.”

Your hands were gripping his forearms now, trying to steady yourself as the teasing became overwhelming—his thumbs rubbing slow, steady circles that made you whimper under your breath.

“You wanna beg yet?” he murmured, dipping his head to your neck, tongue flicking out to taste the skin just under your ear. “Or should I keep going ‘til you really can’t stand?”

And judging by the way your hips were already rocking forward, thighs pressing together, you both knew the answer.

You knew you were playing a dangerous game the moment you pulled on that clingy little shirt with nothing underneath. But what you didn’t expect was how fast Katsuki clocked it—and how fast he turned it into a full-blown mission.

“Fuckin’ knew it,” he growled, hands sliding under the hem of your shirt just to yank it tight against your chest, making your nipples press even harder against the fabric.

Your breath hitched, body already twitching in anticipation.

“Perky little things,” he said, almost to himself, rolling the buds between his calloused fingers, slow and deliberate. “You think I wasn’t gonna notice? You think I was just gonna let you walk around like this?”

You whimpered as his thumbs circled, teasing back and forth with the kind of pressure that made your knees wobble. The shirt made it worse—just enough of a barrier to drag it out, keep you aching.

“Katsuki, we were gonna—”

“Yeah? Gonna what?” he cut you off, smirking as he leaned in close, breath hot against your lips. “Go out? You really think I’m lettin’ you out the door like this? Nah, baby. Not ‘til I deal with this first.”

And then—flick. Hard. Sharp. Right on your nipple.

You gasped, body jolting forward instinctively. He caught you, hand flat on your lower back to keep you steady as he flicked again, again, switching sides, switching pace—sometimes soft, sometimes brutal, and every single touch turned your brain into static.

Your thighs rubbed together. The ache between your legs was unbearable now.

He noticed.

“Aw, fuck. You’re wet, aren’t you?” His hand ghosted over your hip, fingers toying with the ribbon tied at the side of your panties. “Gettin’ all messy from me just playin’ with your tits. That pathetic?”

You nodded—didn’t even bother lying. You loved how he talked to you like this. Loved how filthy he got when he knew he had you melting in his hands.

“Lemme see.”

Two fingers dragged down the front of your panties, slow enough to make you shiver. He didn’t move the lace aside—he just pressed, right over your clit, watching your mouth fall open.

“Fuckin’ soaked,” he muttered, rubbing slow circles through the fabric. “You gonna make a mess all over these cute little bows, baby?”

You whined.

He chuckled, rubbing you harder now, middle and ring finger slipping lower to tease your entrance through the soaked fabric.

“Already twitchin’. Look at that. I’ve barely even touched you.”

His free hand came back up, palming your tits, thumbs grazing your nipples again while his other hand worked your cunt through your panties. You were caught in the middle, helpless, shaking, overwhelmed.

“Katsu—Katsuki, I can’t—”

“Yes, you can,” he growled, burying his face in your neck. “You fuckin’ love this. Love when I play with you like a toy. I’m not even inside you yet and you’re fallin’ apart.”

He slipped a finger beneath the fabric, finally brushing over your bare clit.

You screamed.

“Shh,” he cooed, biting down on your collarbone with a low growl. “Be good. Be quiet, or I’ll stop.”

You didn’t stop. Couldn’t.

So he didn’t either.

Two fingers worked their way under the lace, dragging through your folds, dipping just barely inside before pulling back to tease your clit again.

Your shirt was bunched up over your tits now, twisted in his grip, exposing your stiff, red nipples. He leaned down, tongue flicking over one with just enough pressure to send you over the edge.

Your orgasm hit you like a truck.

You were moaning his name, thighs trembling, cunt clenching around nothing as he grinned against your chest, working you through every wave with his fingers still teasing your clit.

“Fuckin’ knew you were sensitive,” he muttered, mouth still on your skin. “Next time you pull this no-bra shit, you better be ready to earn the right to leave the house.”

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈

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[readwritealldayallnight]

Showing Off

Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley x Reader

wc: 990 words

warnings/tags: fluff, briefest allusions to smut

“What do you think about this one, Si?” You ask as you pick up one of the grocery store’s apples, not even really bothering to look at which one you grab. You shove it in front of his face, twisting it around so that he sees more of your hand than the fruit itself.

“Looks fine to me, love”

“Mmm, actually how about this one?” You quickly switch out apples, presenting him another one in the same manner, his eyes seeing more of your hand than what it holds.

“S’alright.”

“Okay, well, where do you think we should go next? That way towards bread? Or maybe the aisle this way?” You ponder, making a big show of waving your left hand back and forth in front of his face as you point. From behind the black surgical mask he wears, you hear him scoff in amusement, but his eyes cannot contain the love he holds for you as he snatches your wrist in his much larger palm. He brings your left hand up to his lips through the mask and gives your newest piece of jewelry a kiss.

“Follow ya wherever ya take me, love.” He says, threading his fingers through yours as he nudges the shopping cart with his hip, and true to his word, follows you wherever you take him.

‘Do you think we need any more dish soap?’ accompanied by a photo of your left hand pointing towards a store shelf, your ring front and center.

‘Nails are painted! Got the colour you picked ;)’ sent along with a photo of your nails on your left hand.

‘Ever noticed how soft the brown blanket is? We never take out the brown blanket’ reads the message, in addition to a short video of you petting said blanket for a few seconds, before zooming in and out dramatically on your ring.

‘Don’t mind me, just putting clothes away :)’ are the words that accompany a photo of your left hand atop a pile of laundry. You’ve circled your ring in bright red and drawn little hearts around it.

He finally is able to check his messages after a long day on base. He sees all the notifications from you and can’t help but roll his eyes while a smirk stays plastered across his face, hidden behind his mask, as he goes through them all. You’re adorable. He’s so in love with you it hurts.

“Wait!! Let me do it!” You squeak, noticing which jacket Simon has just thrown over his broad shoulders and looped his muscular arms through. He chuckles softly to himself and slowly shakes his head in disbelief, yet he still keeps his hands at his sides, allowing you to come up behind him. The both of you angle yourselves so that Simon is facing the mirror you hung up in the foyer not long after moving in with him. He’s not so bothered by what he sees in his reflection nowadays. Especially when it more often than not shows him with his pretty little bird by his side.

He hears your sweet little giggle that you try to muffle into the fabric of his jacket, and his smile widens, knowing how pleased you are with yourself that he’s putting up with your antics. He feels your left hand creep its way between his side and his arm, sneaking its way towards the front where you find his zipper. He uses his right hand to pass you the other side of the jacket and helps you to fasten it (listen your fiancé is just so broad, it’s easier if you just let him help you start the zipper okay lovie, then he’ll let you do it all on your own).

He turns his gaze towards the mirror, where he watches your much smaller hand ever so slowly inch the zipper up his abdomen towards his chest, admiring how the ring he slipped on your finger for the first time only so many days ago glistens in the light. Eventually your little hand and its new pretty accessory make its way up to his throat, where your soft fingers fingers slowly reach up and pet the skin they find there. If it looks like he’s blushing when you slip your hand back and come around to face him, you don’t have long enough to comment before he’s dropped down to a knee and is grabbing your preferred pair of shoes of the shoe rack.

He juts his chin towards your legs, letting you know he wants you to lift a foot. You lean back against the wall and raise your foot for him, enchanted by the way his larger than life hands grasp your ankle as if he were handling a newborn fawn, delicately slipping your shoe on for you, before pressing a kiss to your knee, and wordlessly repeating each step with diligence with the next foot.

He stands to his full height, where you now find yourself trapped between the wall and his hulking frame. You grab his left hand with both of yours, folding his fingers so that you can press a soft kiss to the spot where you hope he too will one day adorn his own shining band. His already lovesick gaze softens even further as you smile sweetly up at him, allowing him to cradle your cheek with his palm.

“Do you think you’ll want to wear a ring, Si? Wear it on your tags at work maybe, if it gets in the way of gloves or-”

“‘Course I’ll wear a ring swee’heart.” He cuts you off, leaning in to press his own soft kiss to the edge of your mouth. “I’ll let ya slip any ring you want on my finger.” He adds with another kiss to the other corner of your mouth. “And then I’ll make ya watch as ya get that ring all wet on my fingers.”

…

“We don’t actually need a ceremony right? Courthouse good with you? How’s tomorrow??”

[pandapetals]

Sunlight & Sawdust

Chapter Nine: Sage & Screws previous chapter | next chapter

Summary: For two years, Joel Miller has done nothing but scowl at you from across the room, barely tolerating your warmth, your kindness, and your ever-present sunshine. And for two years, you’ve told yourself his gruffness doesn’t bother you—that his clipped words and cold stares don’t matter. But then, out of nowhere, he offers to fix the damaged floor in your flower shop for free. Suddenly, the man who could barely stand to look at you is showing up every day, fixing things that don’t need fixing, sharing quiet lunches, and—most shocking of all—getting along with Ellie, your daughter, who has never warmed up to anyone as quickly as she has to him.

Pairing: joel miller x fem!single mom reader - no outbreak/au

Content warnings: slight reader description, no y/n used, grumpy joel, grumpy x sunshine trope, ellie is reader's daughter, reader is a single mom, tommy being a meddler, reader is friends with tommy, au setting in Austin, joel is a carpenter, reader owns a flower shop, fluff, angst and eventual smut, joel is bad at feelings, sarah mentioned

A/N: divider by @saradika-graphics. first dateeee! i just had to have joel and ellie interact more.

Joel had never been good at this sort of thing.

He could patch up a roof, fix a broken step, build something from nothing with his bare hands—but dating? That was different. That required saying the right things, doing the right things, and making sure he didn’t screw it all up before it even started.

He couldn’t screw this up. Not with you.

His reflection stared back at him in the mirror, his freshly pressed shirt fitting a little too stiffly across his shoulders. He ran a hand through his hair, then down his chest, smoothing the fabric for what had to be the tenth time. It was ridiculous—he was ridiculous—but his damn hands wouldn’t stop sweating. His stomach twisted into knots.

Because tonight mattered.

Everything was out in the open now, and Joel felt good for the first time in longer than he could remember. Lighter. You liked him—for him. Despite how much of an ass he’d been, despite the walls he’d put up, you still wanted him.

That alone was enough to make his stomach twist into knots.

So, even though he’d promised nothing fancy for your first date, Joel was going all out.

Hell, he had even asked Tommy for advice.

That had been a disaster.

Tommy had taken one look at him, standing in his kitchen, rubbing a hand over his face like he had just suffered through the worst day of his life, and laughed. Muttered something about him being "down bad" before finally humoring him.

Joel had asked a million questions—What’s her favorite color? What food does she like? What kind of music does she listen to when she thinks no one’s around?

Tommy, smug as ever, had only answered half of them before telling him, “Jesus, Joel, just ask her yourself.”

Joel scoffed at the memory, but…maybe Tommy had a point.

He wanted to learn these things from you. To hear you talk about them, to know the little things most people wouldn’t think to ask.

With a deep breath, Joel rolled his shoulders, shaking off some of the nerves before grabbing his keys and heading out.

The box of chocolates had been an easy choice—classic, simple, safe. The tulips were a little more sentimental. He had thought about them for days, had gone back and forth about whether or not it was too much, too soon, but when he passed by the small shop on the way to your house, he found himself walking inside without hesitation.

Then, just as he was about to head out the door, he saw it.

The little stuffed giraffe.

It sat on a low shelf, tucked between other plush animals, and for a moment, Joel just stared. Ellie had at least three different giraffe toys, but he knew she’d love it.

Before he could think too much about it, he grabbed it, paid for everything, and climbed back into his truck.

As he drove toward your house, something in him started to settle.

This was you. It wasn’t some stranger he had to impress, wasn’t some woman he barely knew—it was you, and you already wanted him.

That thought steadied him.

When he pulled up to your house, bouquet of tulips in one hand, chocolates and stuffed giraffe in the other, Joel felt…ready.

Because this wasn’t just about tonight, this was about every tomorrow, too.

The way you looked at him, soft and warm, like maybe you saw something in him worth keeping. Like maybe he wasn’t as broken as he thought. Made Joel feel at ease.

Even if this date didn’t go well, he just needed to prove to you that he cared, and if that meant groveling at your feet, Joel was more than willing.

Joel had been feeling damn good about this.

For once, he wasn’t second-guessing himself or overthinking every little detail. He’d planned this out. He’d even taken the time to press his shirt, which was a big deal considering most of his wardrobe consisted of flannels and worn-out T-shirts.

So when he arrived at your house, standing tall with a big bouquet of tulips, a box of your favorite chocolates, and a small toy giraffe for Ellie, he felt confident.

Until you opened the door.

That scowl on your face knocked the wind right out of him.

His stomach dipped, and for a brief, soul-crushing second, he thought maybe you’d changed your mind. Perhaps you would tell him this was a mistake that you didn’t want to do anymore.

But then he noticed your furrowed brows, the way you let out a sharp sigh before your gaze softened at the sight of him.

The scowl wasn’t for him.

Thank God.

He barely heard you when you said, "Oh, Joel. You didn’t have to do all that.” Because he was too damn distracted by how beautiful you looked.

Not that it was a surprise. You always looked beautiful. It didn’t matter what you were wearing or what time of day it was—Joel was a goner.

But tonight, standing in front of him in that soft, flowy dress that hugged you just right, your hair pinned up with just a few loose strands framing your face…

Yeah. He was losing it.

Joel cleared his throat, trying to shake the thought away as he extended the flowers toward you. Focus, Miller.

“What’s wrong?” he asked, glancing at you warily.

You sighed again, stepping back to let him inside. “The babysitter canceled.”

Joel blinked. “Oh.”

“I’m really sorry,” you said, your tone filled with a hint of sadness. Your hands fidgeted with the hem of your dress as you let out a frustrated breath. “I was looking forward to tonight.”

Joel nodded, his fingers tightening slightly around the toy giraffe still in his other hand.

Yeah. He was disappointed.

Not because he didn’t want to be here with you and Ellie—but because he’d wanted this for you. A night out. Something special, but it didn’t take long for another thought to creep in—a better one.

Joel glanced down at the small stuffed giraffe before looking at you. “Well…” he drawled, lips twitching up in that slow, familiar smirk. “Who says we can’t all go?”

Your eyes flicked up to meet his, a slow realization dawning across your face.

Joel shrugged. “I mean, it’s a date, ain’t it? As far as I’m concerned, we’re both already dressed. Ellie’s always wanted to try that pizza place across town, right?”

You stared at him for a beat, then laughed softly, shaking your head. “Joel, you want to bring Ellie on our date?”

Joel grinned, finally holding out the toy giraffe toward you. “Technically, I’m bribing her first.”

Ellie, who had been listening from the other room, sprinted into the doorway, eyes lighting up when she saw the toy in his hands.

“No way.” She snatched it from him, inspecting it with a grin. “Joel, this is awesome.”

Joel felt something warm settle in his chest as she hugged the toy tight.

Then she turned to you with a hopeful look. “So…does this mean I get to go on the date too?”

You rolled your eyes playfully, but Joel caught how you were smiling.

“Fine,” you sighed mockingly. “I guess Joel can take us both out.”

Joel chuckled, reaching for your hand. “Well, damn. I was only tryin’ to impress one of you tonight. Guess now I got my work cut out for me.”

Ellie giggled, already dragging you both toward the door. “Come on. Let’s gooooo.”

And just like that, Joel’s nerves faded.

Because as much as he wanted this to be an actual date, as much as he wanted to spoil you, he realized something. That the three of you together, laughing, teasing, being together?

That already felt like something real.

The pizzeria wasn’t exactly where Joel had pictured taking you for your first date. Hell, he’d entirely had something else in mind—something quieter, more intimate. Somewhere he could sit across from you, watch the candlelight flicker in your eyes, and maybe find the courage to tell you just how deep he’d fallen.

But the second Ellie stepped inside, eyes wide with excitement, letting out an actual squeal at the sight of the flashing arcade games and the glass counter packed with every type of pizza imaginable, Joel forgot his expectations.

“This is so much better than some fancy dinner,” Ellie declared, already making a beeline toward the neon-lit arcade section.

Joel smirked, glancing over at you. “Well, guess that settles it. I’m a damn genius when it comes to date planning.”

You rolled your eyes, nudging him playfully with your elbow. “I wouldn’t go that far.”

Joel gave a low chuckle, slipping his arm around your waist as you followed Ellie inside. “Careful, sweetheart. You keep flirtin’ with me like that, I might start thinkin’ you like me.”

Your laugh was warm, wrapping around him like a hug. “Maybe I do.”

Joel felt that smile spread slowly across his lips, the kind he never used to wear before you.

It wasn’t long before you all had a booth, a large pizza sitting in the middle of the table, and Ellie practically bouncing in her seat as she recounted the very serious game plan for how she would take down every arcade machine in the place.

“I’ll start with Skeeball—easy warm-up, get my wrist loose. Then I’ll destroy the basketball game. I will beat the high score. Then, I move on to the real competition—the claw machine.”

Joel arched a brow, reaching for a slice of pizza. “Pretty bold strategy. You sure you can back it up?”

Ellie scoffed, grabbing her own slice. “Oh, please. You wish you had half my skill.”

You snorted into your drink, and Joel shot you a look. “You laughin’ at me, sweetheart?”

You smirked, taking a sip. “I mean…Ellie’s not wrong.”

Joel shook his head, muttering something about being double-teamed before taking a bite of his pizza.

It was easy. Too easy.

The conversation flowed effortlessly, the laughter came without hesitation, and Joel felt something settle in his chest for the first time in a long time—a warmth, a rightness.

After eating ten slices of pizza, Ellie all but dragged you both to the arcade.

Joel stood back, arms crossed, watching you and Ellie team up against the basketball machine.

Your laughter rang out as Ellie pumped her fists in victory, and Joel swore he had never seen anything more perfect in his life.

Then Ellie turned, her expression smug.

“Alright, let’s see if you can keep up.”

Joel smirked, stepping forward. “Oh, kiddo. You have no idea what you just started.”

Just like that, the date turned into a full-blown competition—Skeeball, air hockey, even a Mario Kart battle that had you clutching Joel’s arm in frustration when he barely beat you at the finish line.

By the time the night wound down, Ellie had her arms full of prizes—mostly cheap plastic trinkets and candy, but she looked thrilled nonetheless.

Joel glanced over at you, the soft glow of the arcade lights reflecting in your eyes, and he swore he felt his heart stutter.

“This was perfect,” you murmured, tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear before grabbing Joel’s hand.

Joel exhaled slowly, his thumb brushing over your knuckles as he looked down at your joined hands. Yeah, that warmth was still there, creeping up his throat and settling deep in his ribs. It was unfamiliar—something like hope or home.

“I was worried this wouldn’t be good enough,” he admitted, his voice rougher than he intended. His fingers tightened slightly around yours. “You deserve to be treated well—”

“Joel.” Your voice was gentle, stopping him in his tracks.

You squeezed his hand, eyes soft, searching. “It’s perfect,” you whispered, shaking your head slightly. “No other man would’ve done this. No one else would’ve adjusted their plans and brought my daughter along like it was nothing.” You swallowed hard, emotions threatening to well up.

Joel's throat bobbed. “'Course I would, sweetheart.” His voice was gruff, like he didn’t quite know how to say what he meant. “Ellie’s a part of you. You think I wouldn’t—?” He cut himself off, shaking his head.

You felt your breath hitch. “You, including Ellie, means everything to me. It shows you care about her too.”

Joel blinked, something unreadable flickering across his face before his features softened completely. He let out a quiet chuckle, rubbing the back of his neck. “I do,” he admitted, almost sheepishly. “I care about her, and I sure as hell care about you.”

That lump in your throat grew, and you had to blink away the sting behind your eyes.

Joel tilted his head, studying you. “You alright?”

You laughed softly, swiping at your cheek before anything could fall. “Yeah. Just—damn you, Miller.”

His brows lifted, amused. “What’d I do now?”

You sniffled, shaking your head with a small, watery smile. “You’re making it really hard not to fall for you.”

Joel huffed a laugh, eyes crinkling at the corners, but deep and warm, there was something serious in how he looked at you.

“Good,” he murmured, bringing your hand up to press a kiss against your knuckles. “'Cause I don’t plan on lettin’ you go.”

The drive home was quiet, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. It was thick with something unspoken lingering in the air between you. Cause I don’t plan on lettin’ you go.

Joel’s words echoed in your head, looping over and over, settling deep in your chest like a warmth you weren’t sure how to hold onto.

You stole glances at him as he drove—his strong hands gripping the wheel, his brows furrowed slightly in thought, the flickering glow of passing streetlights painting soft shadows across his face.

And then there was Ellie, completely knocked out in the backseat, her stuffed giraffe clutched tight in her arms. You didn’t know when she had fallen asleep, but it wasn't surprising between the arcade games, pizza, and the way she had laughed so hard she nearly cried.

Joel parked in front of your house and immediately turned to the back, his gaze softening as he took her in. Without a word, he pushed open the door, unbuckled her with practiced ease, and lifted her into his arms.

It was seamless, like second nature to him, like he had always been meant to do this.

Your chest ached.

“She’s getting too big to carry,” you murmured as you stepped beside him, watching Ellie instinctively curl into him, face pressing against his shoulder.

Joel huffed a quiet laugh, shifting her weight easily. “Nah,” he muttered. “I got her.”

Something about the way he said it made your heart flutter.

You reached for the door, pushing it open. “Her room’s down the hall to the left.” Your voice was softer than you intended.

Joel nodded, adjusting Ellie carefully in his arms. She was completely out, her cheek pressed against his shoulder, soft breaths warming his neck. He carried her with the same ease and tenderness that made your heart twist in your chest.

You followed him down the hall, hovering in the doorway as he gently laid Ellie in her bed, tucking her stuffed giraffe under her arm before pulling the blanket over her small frame. His movements were careful and practiced.

Your throat felt tight as you watched him.

He lingered for a moment, his eyes soft as he brushed a stray curl from Ellie’s forehead before standing up and stepping back toward you. His gaze met yours in the dim hallway, something unreadable behind those deep brown eyes.

You swallowed.

“Did you mean it?”

Joel frowned slightly. “Mean what?”

You hesitated, suddenly feeling too vulnerable, too open. But you needed to know.

“That you don’t plan on letting me go,” you whispered, barely able to look at him. “That you…want this. Want me.”

Joel’s brows furrowed, and for a terrifying second, you thought he might hesitate. But then he sighed, stepping closer, his rough, calloused hands finding yours, squeezing them gently.

“Sweetheart,” he started, his voice low, thick with emotion. “I know I ain’t always been good at sayin’ how I feel. Hell, I’ve probably done more pushin’ away than pullin’ close. But I need you to hear me now.”

“I want this,” he continued, voice steady, unwavering. “I want you. I’ve wanted you for longer than I care to admit. But I was scared, darlin’. Scared of screwin’ it up. Scared of feelin’ somethin’ this deep again after—” He swallowed hard, closing his eyes for a second before meeting yours again. “After losin’ Sarah, I didn’t think I’d ever be capable of lovin’ someone like that again.”

“But you crept up on me,” he murmured, his thumb brushing over your knuckles. “Didn’t even see it comin’ ‘til it was too late. The way you’re so patient with me, the way you care for everyone around you, the way you see me, even when I don’t deserve it.”

A shaky breath left you, and your heart clenched.

“You and Ellie…you ain’t just some temporary thing for me.” His voice was raw now, stripped of all its usual gruff defenses. “You’re it. My second chance. My home.”

Tears pricked your eyes, and you let out a soft, trembling laugh. “Goddamn it, Joel.”

His lips quirked, but his eyes stayed serious. “That a good goddamn it or a bad one?”

You let out a breath, shaking your head before reaching up, cupping his jaw with both hands. “The best kind,” you whispered.

Joel let out a breath that felt like it had been sitting heavy in his chest for years. His forehead rested against yours, his grip on your waist tightening like he was grounding himself, like he was still trying to believe this was real.

“I wanna kiss you,” he murmured, his voice low, rough around the edges, like the words had been sitting on his tongue for too damn long.

Your stomach flipped, warmth spreading through your chest. Your fingers traced the edge of his jaw, feeling the faint scratch of his stubble beneath your touch.

“Please,” you whispered, eyes fluttering closed as you tilted your chin up, offering yourself to him.

Joel didn’t make you wait.

His lips met yours tenderly, like he was savoring the moment. Fearful of pushing too hard, you might slip right through his fingers.

But when you kissed him back, pressing yourself closer, fisting the fabric of his flannel like you needed him to feel it, that hesitation melted.

Joel deepened the kiss, his hand sliding up to cradle your jaw, his thumb brushing over your cheek as he angled his head, drinking you in like he’d been waiting for this his whole damn life.

Maybe he had because it wasn’t just a kiss.

It was an answer. To every stolen glance, every lingering touch, every time he wanted to say something but didn’t.

It was him, finally letting you in.

You turned to face him at the living room's threshold, still holding his hand in yours. Your fingers traced over the rough calluses on his palm, a quiet, lingering touch that said everything you couldn’t find the words for.

“Tonight was really good, Joel,” you whispered, your voice warm, certain. You needed him to know. Needed him to see that, despite all his worrying, despite whatever doubts still lingered in his head, this—you and him—felt right. “It was perfect.”

Joel exhaled softly, his shoulders easing, like your words lifted a weight off him. Slowly and deliberately, his thumb brushed over the back of your hand before he reached up, cradling your face with a tenderness that made your heart stutter.

His dark eyes searched yours, something raw, something unspoken lingering between you both. Then, so gently it made your breath hitch, Joel leaned in.

This time, it wasn’t a kiss full of hesitation or years of longing. It wasn’t desperate or deep.

It was soft. Sure.

A quiet promise pressed against your lips.

When he pulled back, his forehead rested against yours momentarily, his breath fanning warm over your skin. “Goodnight, darlin’.” His voice was hushed, reverent, as if he was savoring the words.

Your heart swelled.

“Goodnight, Joel.”

taglist: @hermionelove, @niceforcum, @ashhlsstuff, @doeeyestoji, @12thatsanumber, @cherrygirl19, @thottiewinemom, @ladynightingale, @doodlebob-mp3, @alitaar, @starwarskawaii, @hduuc56, @naniiiii12, @possiblyafangirl, @alienjoel, @leesromanova, @kungfucapslock, @forpunishers, @yallgotkik, @cuteanimalmama, @worhols, @lumpatto, @timeladyrikaofgallifrey, @vickie5446, @its-in-the-woods, @onlythehobi

[vieviesmt]

MDNI :p

CW : sub!caleb, masturbation, panty thief, dryhumping, (he cums first sorry), praise, DESPERATE DESPERATE man, loads of drooling deal w it

pervert!caleb who somehow managed to convince you to move in with him because he's been feeling oh so lonely and tired :( he needs your presence, your warmth and your attention to stay sane!! you have to believe him !!

pervert!caleb who definitely didnt make you move in so that he could spend his time watching you, subtly press against you while youre cooking, passing by your room at night to gently pat your head and smell your hair, maybe even steal a couple of your polaroids on the wall to put in his wallet !! (or use for later)

pervert!caleb who tells you its okay if you dont have time to do the laundry today! he can take care of it like he always has :) he definitely does not use the opportunity to shove his face into every crevice of your shirts, nose pressed into the crotch of your used hunter pants; when his eyes shift to a well hidden piece of bright red lacey fabric under one of your socks...jackpot.

pervert!caleb who doesnt even try to walk to his room to take care of business, no it has to be here between all your dirty clothes, your smell emanating from every corner of the laundry room while he hastily pushes his shorts down, poor baby's cock is bright red, already leaking just from the smell of you :(

pervert!caleb who grabs those red panties and wraps them around his shaft, using his strong muscled hand to jerk himself fast enough in hopes you wouldnt catch him!! you would probably think hes such a weirdo, using your dirty clothes and panting like a desperate dog but he just cant help himself around you, just the thought of your cute self sitting in the other room happily munching on some snacks while he's in here filthying up your belongings makes him break : strong hips thrust up and buck trying to finally get that sweet release-

pervert!caleb who, in his haste to get some alone perverted time had forgotten to lock the door :0 of course, after not hearing any noise for the past 15 mins you got worried! you didn't mean to walk in on him disheveled, hips in the air, sweat down his arms and drool down his shirt with your favourite underwear (now ripped at the crotch) wrapped around his sensitive head :(

pervert!caleb who's pleasantly surprised when you tug him up by his arm, he start rambling out excuses- "pips! i-im so sorry! i swear i dont even know what happened, i dont think straight when im tired you know me-" only to be slammed into the couch , "take your shirt off."

pervert!caleb is now sweatily sat on the couch, his boxers back on, trembling from overstimulation as you grind your ass back onto his crotch as harsh as you can, feeling his hardness drool out masses of precum, his thighs shakey and his hands barely holding onto your hips - "please, please can i- can i take them off pips i wanna feel you now-" his hands tug at your jeans, as good as the friction of your tight pants feel on him, he cant stop himself from thinking about how warm your cunt is underneath your clothes rn :( plus he wants you to feel good too!!

pervert!caleb cant take it anymore after you answer him with a harsh slap to the inside of his thigh, "quit talking, be grateful i even let you dirty these pants too, and you ripped my panties, those were my favourite you know ;("

pervert!caleb who can barely focus on what youre saying, he feels his balls squeezing, the feeling of your behind back and forth has him spiraling, babbling about how much he loves you and how you treat him so so well!! one specific hard swivel of your hips around his tip is what undoes him fully, head slamming back onto the wall, his hands grab your hips tightly to keep you in place as he keeps thrusting up up up, using you to get off. He's grunting loudly, muttering half sentences of "thank you- i love you- so sensitive- i cant stop- please-"

pervert!caleb who dirtied both you and himself now ! what a troublesome puppy >:( no worries you'll make him clean you up really quick once his legs stop pushing his hips into yours, unable to stop.

ive been thinking about this one for a whileeee so pls lmk how it is !!

[httpwintersoldier]

opla men hc || you tease them with a short skirt

ᴢᴏʀᴏ ; ᴍɪʜᴀᴡᴋ ; ʟᴜғғʏ ; sᴀɴᴊɪ ; sʜᴀɴᴋs ; ʙᴜɢɢʏ

ᴄᴡ: ᴘᴜʙʟɪᴄ ꜱᴇxᴜᴀʟ ᴀᴅᴠᴀɴᴄᴇꜱ

ᴢᴏʀᴏ

⤷ when zoro sees you parading around with that skirt hanging dangerously close to your ass cheeks, a whirlwind of emotions goes through him

⤷ he wants to stand behind you to cover you so no one else can see the way your ass revealed slightly when you walked, he wanted to lift it slightly and get a better look, he wanted to pick you up, carry you to his bedroom and fuck you senseless...

⤷ so many scenarios and all he could do was silently play the scenarios in his head over and over as he shamelessly stared at your ass

⤷ it all changed when zoro noticed you'd bend down only when he was watching, you'd sway your hips playfully and bounce back and forth jiggling your ass on purpose

⤷ you were teasing him

⤷ once zoro puts 2 and 2 together he just chuckles

⤷ the swordsman comes behind you, grips your waist and pulls your ass against his growing erection

⤷ "I'm gonna love to see this during the rest of the day, because I'm not fucking or touching you until you're on your knees, begging"

ᴍɪʜᴀᴡᴋ

⤷ the second you step out in the miniskirt mihawk smirks

⤷ he instantly knew what you were doing, and smirked - mihawk found it... amusing

⤷ the man loved to see how hard you tried to bend over and expose your ass, desperately trying to get a reaction out of him

⤷ mihawk enjoyed how hard you were working to get his attention

⤷ most of all, he did love the view - the way the skirt almost gave him a look of your pretty panties huggung your ass beautifully...

⤷ "once you've had enough of teasing me, do meet me in my room, it's my turn now"

ʟᴜғғʏ

⤷ luffy is oblivious to what you're trying to do, but either way he doesn't care because he was too focused blatantly staring at your ass

⤷ his eyes were glued to your rear, often brushing against the bits of your cheeks that peeked out of the small piece of fabric

⤷ luffy doesn't care who's watching, if he wants it he gets it, so if he wants to grab your ass, he will

⤷ you didn't think luffy would sneak his hands under your skirt and grab your ass, but he did, several times

⤷ it made it hard for you to maintain your composure, especially when he wrapped his arms around you and laid his head on your ass, sneeaking a couple bites in

⤷ he will get very protective, whiny and jealous if he sees other people looking as well though

⤷ "I think I wanna try some new stuff, y/n"

sᴀɴᴊɪ

⤷ he didn't even care that you were teasing him

⤷ sanji's hands were all over you the whole day, groaning in your ear and whispering praises and dirty things every time he passed by you

⤷ he would find any and every reason to come behind you and brush his crotch against your ass

⤷ would definitely pull you into a dark corner in the middle of the day and fuck you from the back against a wall while he covered your mouth so no one could hear you

⤷ sanji would cum on your panties and make you walk around with his cum sticking to your pussy

⤷ "how many rounds do you think you can handle, my love?"

sʜᴀɴᴋs

⤷ shanks loves it

⤷ he obviously knows what you're doing and you knew he'd catch on so you're not exactly discrete with your plans either

⤷ shanks would make little sexual comments here and there (and would praise you equally as much)

⤷ he wouldn't mind the constant boner throughout the day because he'd love the show you'd be putting on for him

⤷ the man would absolutely love to see the way your crotch squeezed in between your legs when you bent over (and he would definetily tug your panties to the side to "take a peek" while you bent down)

⤷ ass smacks the whole damn time

⤷ will be thinking of all the ways to fuck you at the end of the day and will make sure to whisper all of them to you

⤷ "I'm gonna fuck you for the exact ammount of time you've been teasing me for, how does that sound?"

ʙᴜɢɢʏ

⤷ oh buggy loves it

⤷ he doesn't even care that you're teasing him

⤷ buggy loves it when you put on a show for him and he loves it even more if you do it in front of others - he wants to show off how lucky he is, how he gets to fuck someone so beautiful and only he can do it

⤷ he would groan at the sight of you asscheeks and panties

⤷ buggy would beg you to sit on his lap while he was on his throne

⤷ the Captain would praise you constantly as he caressed your body and admired the way your ass sat against his cock

⤷ you'd end up riding him on the throne

⤷ and after he'd cum in you he would just wrap his arms around you and have you cockwarm him

⤷ "where can I find more of these pretty skirts? We need to get you some more..."

[the-oblivious-writer]

The Perfect Girl |prologue|

Past J.T to Eventual S.S x Female Reader

Prologue of With Her I Die (optional one-shot)

Summary: You and Jackie - your ever so lovely girlfriend - share precious stolen moments away from prying eyes in your very bedroom.

Warning(s): Intimate scenes/implied smut, innuendos, pre-crash, and underage substance use (marijuana)

Notes: How are we doing after ep 4? Yeah. Figured.

masterlist | first chapter

The smoke hangs lazy in the afternoon air of your bedroom, curling around the shafts of golden light filtering through half-drawn blinds. Robert Smith's voice floats from your record player—the one your dad gave you for your sixteenth birthday with strict instructions to "treat the vinyl with respect, for God's sake." You'd promised, never imagining that one day you'd be using his precious sound system to provide the soundtrack for making out with Jackie Taylor.

Jackie—varsity soccer captain, homecoming queen nominee, and the girl whose public image couldn't be further from this moment: her perfect hair mussed beyond repair, wearing nothing but your oversized Sonic Youth t-shirt and a pair of lacy underwear that had made your brain short-circuit when you first saw them.

"You're staring again," she murmurs, taking another hit from the joint you'd been passing back and forth. Her eyes are slightly red-rimmed, her smile looser than the one she wears in the school hallways.

"Can you blame me?" You prop yourself up on your elbows, drinking in the sight of her. "Do you have any idea how many people would lose their minds if they could see Jackie Taylor right now?"

She rolls her eyes, but you catch the pleased flush creeping up her neck. "Please. I'm hardly centerfold material."

"You're right," you agree solemnly. "You're much better."

The way she looks at you then—half-exasperated, half-adoring—makes your chest ache with how much you love her. A year and a half of sneaking around, of stolen moments between classes and elaborate excuses to your respective friend groups, and sometimes you still can't believe she's yours.

"Come here," you say, making grabby hands at her.

Jackie raises an eyebrow, taking her time with another drag before passing the joint back to you. "Demanding much?" But she moves toward you anyway, settling onto your lap with the practiced ease of someone who's been there countless times before.

"Pictures of You" starts playing, and Jackie groans, dropping her forehead against yours. "God, not this song. It's so sad."

"It's romantic," you argue, running your hands up her bare thighs, delighting in the goosebumps that rise in their wake.

"It's about loss," she counters. Her fingers toy with the collar of your shirt, brushing against your collarbone in a way that makes it hard to concentrate on the philosophical debate about Cure lyrics.

"It's about love," you insist, leaning forward to press a kiss to the corner of her mouth. "How everything fades but photographs and memories."

Jackie pulls back just enough to study your face, her expression caught between amusement and something deeper. "Since when did you become the romantic one? I thought that was my role."

"Don't worry," you laugh, hands now resting on her hips, thumbs tracing slow circles against the fabric of her borrowed shirt. "Your title as 'most likely to cry during romantic comedies' remains unchallenged."

"That was one time!" she protests, but she's laughing too. "And 'The Princess Bride' is emotional terrorism."

"Whatever you say, captain."

Her eyes narrow playfully. "You know, for someone who's currently enjoying the privileges of having me on their lap, you're being awfully snarky."

"Privileges, huh?" You raise an eyebrow, feeling bold from the weed and the warmth of her against you. "And what privileges might those be?"

Jackie's smile turns wicked, a side of her no one at Wiskayok High ever sees except you. She leans down until her lips brush your ear. "Play your cards right, and you might find out."

A shiver runs through you that has nothing to do with the temperature. "I've always been good at cards."

"Hmm," she hums, unconvinced. "Is that why you lost twenty bucks to Shauna at poker night?"

"That was—" you splutter, indignant. "Shauna cheats! She has that whole quiet, innocent act down to a science."

Jackie laughs, the sound lighter than the carefully modulated one she uses at school. This laugh is just for you—unfiltered, slightly too loud, and utterly perfect.

"My point," she says, "is that you might need to work on your bluffing skills."

"I don't need to bluff with you," you say, suddenly serious despite the pleasant haze of the high. "Never have."

Something in her expression softens, the armor she wears so carefully around everyone else slipping away entirely. These are the moments you treasure most—when Jackie is just Jackie, not the perfect student, not the soccer star, not Jeff's sometimes-girlfriend (a convenient cover you both agreed on, with his reluctant cooperation).

"No," she agrees quietly. "You don't."

You reach up to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear, and she leans into your touch like a cat seeking affection. It still amazes you sometimes, how different she is in these private moments—how the Jackie Taylor who intimidated you during your first soccer practice freshman year transformed into the girl who now melts at your simplest touches.

"Remember when Coach Martinez paired us for drills that first day?" you ask, thinking back to how it all began. "And you told me my footwork was 'almost adequate'?"

Jackie groans, hiding her face in your neck. "Can we please not relive my bitch phase?"

"It was kind of hot, actually," you admit, laughing when she pinches your side in retaliation. "What? It was! All commanding and authoritative."

"You're deranged," she says, but she's smiling against your skin.

"Maybe. But you're the one who cornered me in the equipment shed two weeks later."

"Because you kept looking at me with those eyes!" She sits up, gesturing dramatically. "All... intense and stuff. It was distracting."

"My sincerest apologies for having eyes and using them to look at the prettiest girl on the field."

Jackie rolls her eyes, but you can tell she's pleased. She's always been a sucker for compliments, especially the earnest ones.

"Smooth talker," she accuses, before leaning down to press her lips against yours.

The kiss starts slow, languid with the unhurried confidence of people who know each other's bodies by heart. Your hands find their way under her shirt—your shirt—fingers tracing the dip of her spine, the curve of her ribs. She sighs into your mouth, shifting on your lap in a way that makes you both gasp.

"You know," you murmur against her lips, "we have the house to ourselves for at least three more hours."

Jackie pulls back just enough to look at you, her pupils dilated from more than just the weed. "Is that your subtle way of saying we should move this to a more horizontal position?"

"I was actually thinking we could finish our calculus homework," you deadpan. "You know how I get turned on by derivatives."

She snorts, an undignified sound that she'd be mortified to let slip in front of anyone else. "You're such a nerd."

"Says the girl with a 4.0 GPA."

"That's different," she insists, tracing a finger down your sternum. "I'm academically gifted. You're a genuine weirdo who reads physics books for fun."

"Only sometimes," you defend yourself. "And they have pretty pictures of space."

Jackie shakes her head, a fond smile playing at her lips. "What am I going to do with you?"

"I can think of a few things," you suggest, waggling your eyebrows in an exaggerated way that makes her laugh again.

"Can you now?" she challenges, and then she's leaning in to kiss you again, deeper this time, with an urgency that makes your head spin.

Your hands drift higher under her shirt, thumbs brushing the undersides of her breasts. She makes a soft noise against your mouth that sends heat pooling low in your belly. One of her hands tangles in your hair, the other bracing against your shoulder for leverage as she rocks against you.

When you break apart for air, her lips immediately find your neck, pressing hot, open-mouthed kisses along your pulse point. It's your turn to gasp, head falling back to give her better access.

"Jackie," you breathe, hands now gripping her hips tightly.

She smiles against your skin, clearly pleased with your reaction. "Yes?"

"The record's about to end."

She pulls back, blinking at you in confusion before her brow furrows in annoyance. "Seriously? That's what you're thinking about right now?"

You can't help but laugh at her indignation. "I just thought you might want some more mood music."

"The mood," she says, deliberately shifting on your lap in a way that makes your breath catch, "is doing just fine without Robert Smith's help."

"Fair point," you concede, voice slightly strained. "But you were the one who insisted we needed The Cure specifically for our afternoon delinquency session."

"That was before you started doing that thing with your hands," she counters, leaning in to nip at your bottom lip. "Now I couldn't care less about the soundtrack."

The needle reaches the end of the record, the soft scratching sound barely registering through the haze of desire clouding your brain.

"Besides," Jackie adds, her voice dropping to a whisper as she brings her lips to your ear. "I'd rather listen to the sounds you make when I do this."

Her hands slip beneath your shirt, and suddenly the lack of music is the furthest thing from your mind.

Later, much later, when you're both lying tangled in your sheets, catching your breath, Jackie props herself up on one elbow to look down at you.

"You know," she says, tracing patterns on your bare shoulder, "we won't have to hide next year."

The thought sends a rush of warmth through you that has nothing to do with physical pleasure. College, away from Wiskayok's judgmental eyes and rigid social hierarchies. A place where Jackie won't have to pretend to be someone she's not, where you can walk across campus holding her hand without calculating who might see.

"I can't wait," you say honestly.

Something vulnerable flickers across her face. "You won't get tired of me once I'm not your dirty little secret anymore?"

The question surprises you. Jackie's always so confident, so sure of herself and what she wants. But sometimes, in these quiet moments, you get glimpses of the insecurities she hides from everyone else.

"Are you kidding?" You reach up to cup her cheek. "I've been counting down the days until I can show you off properly."

Her smile is small but genuine, relief softening the tension you hadn't even noticed in her shoulders.

"Besides," you add, unable to resist, "I've invested too much time teaching you good music taste to abandon you now."

She gasps in mock outrage, grabbing a pillow to smack you with it. "Excuse you! I knew who The Cure was before I met you!"

"Name three albums," you challenge, laughing as you try to fend off her pillow attack.

"Disintegration," she says immediately, punctuating it with another swing of the pillow. "Kiss Me, Kiss Me, Kiss Me. And... uh..."

"That's what I thought," you tease, finally capturing the pillow and tossing it aside so you can pull her down for another kiss.

Against your lips, she murmurs, "You're lucky you're cute."

"I'm lucky, period," you respond honestly, and the softness that returns to her eyes makes your heart flip over in your chest.

The Cure may have stopped playing hours ago, but as Jackie settles against you, her head tucked under your chin, you think Robert Smith would approve of this particular love song—the one written in the rhythm of your synchronized heartbeats and the promise of a future where hiding is no longer necessary.

[sevsbunny]

okay okay i imagine that sevika gets off on fucking your throat with her fingers. just the noises and the way your eyes are on hers... anyways yeah... do with this what you'd please heheeh <33

she literally knows a freak when she sees one

having u kneel in between her legs as she’s sitting on the edge of the bed, hands tied behind your back with her tie and your chin in her metal hand making you look up at her

you’ve been wrecked the second you stepped foot into her house after a night of drinking and gambling

you both wanted to celebrate the anniversary of sevika becoming a councilor (even if she thought it was bogus)

but because you wanted to celebrate, like this — how could she say no?

“you look so pretty, my love.” her half lidded gaze is looking down at you, before switching her metal hand for her flesh one, thumb rubbing softly over your bottom lip as she keeps your head in her grasp

she had you in nothing save for a short little skirt and small bra that your chest could not fit in she wanted you looking delraved and desperate, and she knew you were there

your cunt was leaking, dripping down onto the plush carpet as you kept your eyes on sevika’s watching them darken with lust with each passing moment she had you like this

you were at her mercy and you’d do anything for her

she hums, pressing the pad of her thumb against your bottom lip, pulling it down just enough for your lips to part by her action. pulling it further, your jaw loosens and you open your mouth just enough for her thumb to swirl the tip of your tongue

“are you going to be good?” she muses, but by the way you were looking at her she already knew the answer

you nodded best you could, whining softly as you felt the slight burn in your arms from behind bound behind you. it wasn’t too tight, but it was enough to slightly make you focus more on how much pressure was building becusde you were at her mercy like this

she hums in approval at your nodding before taking her thumb and replacing it with her pointer finger first. you let her digit lip past your lips, a soft groan escaping sevika’s throat as she feels how wet your mouth it — warm almost like your cunt

you feel your cunt throb, wishing it was her cock in your mouth, but you knew she liked to play with you. “gotta warm that cute throat of yours up for daddy’s cock, don’t you think?” she’ll tease as she pushes her finger farther into your mouth, your cheeks hollowing out and pressing your tongue down on the pad of her finger

“just like that,” a bated breath leaves her lips as she watches you, her metal hand coming behind her so she can prop herself up a bit more to watch you, eagerly sucking her finger. “get it all nice and wet for daddy, hm?”

you moan softly around her finger as she starts to move her finger, back and forth slowly into your mouth

you imagine it’s her cock, sliding from the back of your throat to the tip of your tongue — tasting the salty pre cum that belongs to sevika

you whimper at the thought; your hips stuttering at no friction. she coos as she pushes a second finger into your mouth, moving the digits faster

saliva pooled at the corners of your mouth and dripped down onto your chin, to your cleavage and eventually in between your legs — to joint the pretty mess on her carpet

“fuck,” she groans as she sit up a bit, before taking her metal hand and palming herself through her sweats. “look so fucking pretty like this.” she murmurs as she picks up the pace

she notices your hips stuttering against nothing before she moves her boot under your cunt and you press it onto the fabric. you let out a moan around her fingers at the pressure, your cunt throbbing and fluttering as you move

“so fucking needy you have to grind that slutty pussy on daddy’s boot, huh.” she feels your hips pick up the pace, almost matching the thrusts of her fingers into your throat as you gag softly, tears spilling from the waterlines of your eyes

you whimper, the idea of getting off on her boot and sucking her fingers made your stomach clench with need, your eyes flickering up to hers in knowing

“gonna cum baby?” you nod as you keep moving your hips, clit rubbing up against the roughness of her shoelaces

“go head, sock my boot baby. just so you can clean it up after yeah?”

[eddiesxangel]

Eddie’s Fantasy | Knight!Eddie x Princess!Reader

Semi proof read. Based off this blurb

2.4k

CW: Roleplay, reader addresses Eddie as 'sir' but not in a dom way, more of a respect kinda thing... it goes with the roleplay, you'll get it. Pure porn with some plot, oral (m+f), p in v, unprotected sex, breeding/cream pie, f!reader.

Needy kisses were passed between the both of you. You and Eddie sat on your bed, his hands gripped your hips, guiding them back and forth over his strained cock that was trapped beneath the black fabric of his jeans.

"Tell me your fantasies, baby," cooed him as you twirled a piece of his hair and sat in his lap.

The sex is always great and amazing, but you feel like Eddie is holding back on you; there is something he wants to share with you but is too timid to admit it. You’ve only just started dating. You’re at the stage where he just asked you to be his girlfriend, and you can’t keep your hands off one another.

"I-I-" he stutters as his eyes drift to the book sitting on the opposite side of your bed.

You follow his eyes and look over to see the book you had been reading before Eddie came over. You observe the cover he is looking at; a knight carrying a princess as he saves her from her capturers.

"Oh, baby, you want me to dress up like a pretty princess?" You smile.

Eddie nods his head profusely, mouth agape.

"Are you going to be my knight in shining armour? Do you want me to reward you for saving me from the dragon?" you ask with no judgment in your tone.

You hear Eddie curse under his breath as his chest rises and falls rapidly.

"Have my tits all pushed up in a pretty pink corset for you?" You lean in to brush your plush lips against his skin. "You wanna watch how they bounce as I ride my knight in shining armour?"

"Y-yes," he stutters.

"Okay, baby, I can be your damsel in distress"

You had it all planned out: You found your old Halloween costume, which you embellished a little with a pink corset like you promised, some petticoats for volume, and some extra jewels to really sell it. You curled and pinned your hair with smaller braids, just as he liked it.

You arranged to meet him at eight. As you were fixing your makeup, you heard a light knock on the door. You don't need to let him in, as he has his own key.

“Hey babe,” he calls out into the empty living room, seeing you were not in sight.

“Eddie! Quickly im in here!” You say with urgency.

You can hear his sock-clad feet pad down the hardwood floors as he rushes in to investigate, but he stops dead when he sees what you’re wearing.

You quickly turn, and he can see everything, the pink and blue lacy gown adorned with a lace corseted bodice that your breasts are pushed so far up his dick was hard in an instant. He loved the dainty curls that fell by your pretty face. You looked like a fairy princess, and he swore that’s when he fell in love with you.

“Oh, Sir Knight, thank goodness you are here!” You flung yourself into his arms. I never thought I would be saved!” You cupped his confused face and kissed him passionately.

“Baby, what is?—”

“Shhhhh, the dragon is so very hungry, they said I haven't much time.” You look around your room frantically.

“Ohhhhhhh!” And then Eddie gets it, and holy shit is he excited.

You give him a look to not break character.

“Oh,” he clears his throat. “I’ve travelled far and wide trying to track you down, Princess. It’s been an awful long journey.” He takes your hands in his and brings them up between your two chests to kiss the back of it.

“How could I ever repay, Thee?” You bat your lashes at him.

“It is my duty as your knight to protect you, Your Highness.”

“There must be something?” You creep closer and closer to him, letting your hands twirl a loose tendril.

“Well, there might be one thing,” he chides.

“Yes, Sir Knight?” You speak as you lean into his neck, gently brushing away his curls so you can leave a soft kiss on his neck.

“Shit, that’s good,” he whispers as your mouth travels lower to his collar bone and your hand glides down to his already erect penis.

“I would like to express my gratitude, Sir. Can I?” You start palming him through his cotton pants.

“Y-yes, Princess, I’ll do anything for you.” God, he was such a simp.

You give a satisfied smirk and sink to your knees. Your dress pillows out, and Eddie can’t help but moan, seeing your breasts falling out of the corset at this angle.

“Fuck baby, you’re too good to me; I am not worthy.” he cups your face, and you nuzzle into it. You’d do anything for him.

“Anything for my knight in shining armour.” You bite your lip, gazing up at him; your doe eyes don’t break contact until your hands finally help his cock out of its cotton confines.

You hear Eddie take a sharp breath as your glossy lips touch his reddened tip. You can taste the salty pre cum as you place it in your mouth.

Eddie wants to grip your head so badly in his hands but doesn't dare, knowing you spent all this time preparing for him. To be his pretty Princess. Just the thought alone was going to make Eddie cream his pants.

Eddie watches, not wanting to blink; he can't miss a moment of this. Your perfectly outlined glossy lips swallowing down his cock, your beautiful eyes gazing up at him lovingly.

You break eye contact when you feel Eddie's bush tickle your nose. Trying to slowly breathe, you swallow down and hear your knight moan from above. Slowly, you pull back, tasting every inch of him on your tongue before you push your head back into him at a much quicker pace.

You pump your hot wet mouth on Eddie's cock, enjoying every minute. You loved having this hold over your boyfriend, as you were the only thing he was focused on in the world.

"You suck my cock so good," he hisses, trying not to cum just yet.

With a pop, you release his cock from your mouth and replace it with your hand as you move lower to suck on his balls. No longer caring about your makeup, you smear your face into the wet skink of his undershaft, needing to worship him like he deserves.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck" Eddie was so close, your hand was jerking his so smooth and fast he almost exploded, but he stopped you just in time.

"I need you, princess, please." He begged.

"How do you want me?" You stand back up, and Eddie flips you around so you're facing the bed. You walk over together, and Eddie instructs you to lie down on your back while he undresses.

He gently guides your head down on the pillow, ever the gentleman.

"Need to treat you like the Princess you are." he hums as he gently peels up your skirts layer by layer to see you're not wearing anything underneath.

Eddie could see your pussy was already soaked, his mouth watered, and as he got closer, he could smell your arousal, which drove him insane every time.

The sweet aroma filled his nostrils; he had to taste you. Slowly, his soft lips trailed the inside of your thigh, leaving small bites to claim you as his. He crept closer and closer until the small hairs from your mound tickled his nose.

You hear Eddie take a deep breath and inhale sharply as you watch his eyes flutter shut, finally satiated.

Your eyes are closed, soaking up the moment; you feel a hand trail up and squeeze your breast as the other circles your entrance. You move your hand to cup the one that’s cupping your breast and guide it so the fabric releases your nipple.

Eddie loved your taste so much he could bathe in it. His sloppy kisses make your mind go blank as his saliva and the mix of your slick coat your inner thighs, the bed sheets and his face. You open your eyes and can see his face is glistening. You're absolutely dripping for him.

"B-baby! Baby! Baby! Baby!" You chant as your breath quickens. He loves seeing your chest rise and fall as he looks up at you through his lashes. Your sweet moans are his newfound favourite genre of music.

His tongue flicking over your clit over and over and over. Nipping and sucking and swirling as your wriggle beneath him. His strong large hands have your hips pinned down as you try and grind your pussy on his face. His fingers are diving into your plush hips, and the rough stubble from his chin and upper lip only makes the feeling much better.

Your orgasm hits you and your cum it's like liquid gold on his tongue. Eddie doesn’t hesitate to lap up your cum leaking out of your hole catching every. last. drop.

"Such a good job for me," he hums into you, sending waves of aftershocks through you. You gasp into his eyes, swearing you’ve never felt so loved, even if you have yet to speak those three words to one another.

“I need you, please, Sir.”

Eddie has totally forgotten about the roleplay until now. He was so consumed, pussy drunk, that your words only had him aching for you all over again.

“Time to show me your gratitude, Princess.”

You sit up and make room for Eddie to lie down on the bed because your usual position was for you to ride him. He loved to watch your tits bounce, to latch on your nipples while you bounce on his cock like his little bunny.

You go to take off your skirts because Eddie loves to watch as he disappears inside of you, but this time, Eddie stops you from undressing.

“No, please leave it on.” He asked while stroking his cock. You watch as his big hands grip the shaft, only making your pussy clench around nothing. No longer could you wait; the anticipation was too much.

Bunching up your skirts the best you can, Eddie guides your hips to be aligned with his shaft. He nods, and you sink down while he pushes himself up into you.

The sight before him is enough to have him cumming instantly. Your tits are so far pushed up that they’re basically falling out of your top, your head is flung back, exploding your neck, daring him to mark, your dress falls as you grip his shoulder for balance, and he is enveloped fully inside of you.

“Fuck you’re so tight.”

“You’re so big, I’m so full,” you moan as you raise yourself on your knees so you can ride him.

“You’re so perfect, my perfect Princess,” Eddie mumbles, leaning in so he can press his face in your chest. You start off slow, building up speed with each bounce.

A loud moan leaves your throat in reply to his praises.

Eddie is consuming you; even if he’s under you, you’re being devoured by him. His hands, his mouth, his thick long cock filling you so good you’re about to cry from the pleasure.

“Gotta take what’s mine,” he grits before he pushes the both of you up, and you land on your back, and he’s hovering over you. Quickly he pounds into you, eyes not veering from your chest as he watches your tits bounce.

“Are you mine, Princess?” His hips slap so hard into you that you feel his balls slap you with each hard thrust.

“Yours! All yours!”

Eddie swears his heart melts when the admission leaves your lips. He’s always waited for a girl like you to come around. Now you’re here, doing this for him and enjoying it? He never thought he’d be here with you.

“More,” you moan

“Not good enough for you, your Highness?”

“I-I-I,” you can’t speak, but Eddie knows what you need.

“Gonna fill up this pussy so good.”

Before you know it, you’re being flipped around, and your head is pressed so far into the mattress your neck is craned, and it hurts, but you pay no mind because Eddie has you propped up on your knees, your dress is flipped up, and you’re all spread out, and he is ravaging you with his mouth once more.

His nose pressed into your ass as he tongue fucks you.

Your moans are muffled by the plush pillows your face is stuffed into. A small wet patch is forming on it from your drool. Your eyes are rolled back, and you're in absolute heaven.

Eddie's hot wet tongue runs up your soaked slit before he pulls back with a moan before he breathes you in as his face is drawn to your pussy like a magnet.

“More” you need his cock once again. Nothing will be able to satisfy your needs.

“You want more Princess? You want me to fill up this pussy so good your belly will swell with my seed?

“Yes!” Your white knuckle grip on the pillow almost tears it apart.

"Mmmmm, that's my good girl. Tell me what you need. " he encourages as your mains rip from your throat.

“You, My Knight! You, you, you!” Your pussy clenches over nothing once more.

You're so close that you feel it building up more and more until you break. Eddie feels you quivering beneath him, and he pulls away and quickly inserts himself before you feel a sharp slap on your ass.

“Eddie!”

Nothing pleases him more than to hear you blissed out because of him.

“Oh, Princess!” He cried, flinging his head back, fucking you with reckless abandon.

Your legs almost give out as your body shakes with ecstasy. You can’t hold it any longer; everything is Eddie, everything is beautiful. Eddie, Eddie, Eddie, Eddie. You hadn’t even released. You were changing his name as your pussy clamps down on his cock like a vice.

Uneven thrusts continuously pound into you until you feel the grip of Eddie’s fingers dig into your flesh so hard as he cums deep inside of you, you squeak, and Eddie loosens his grip immediately.

“Need you,” you slur mindlessly.

“You got me, Princess.” You both collapse on the bed, and Eddie's weight is comforting.

“And they lived happily ever after?” You try and roll over to look at Eddie; he pushes up and but so you can roll back over.

He kisses your nose. “And they lived happily ever after.”

Tagging some mooties: @jamdoughnutmagician @littlexdeaths @voyeurmunson @ceriseheaven @munson-blurbs

[sebmindbreak]

WAHHHHHH I LOVE YOUR WORK SO SOSOSOSOSSOSOSOSOSS MUCHHHHH (esp mafioso and 007n7)

HEHEHE WHAT ABOUT....*drum rolls* 1x1x1x1 smut? Reader has an ability where they can phase through walls which made it harder for 1x to chase them, in the end 1x got pissed then y'know.... Hehehehehe (BTW THEY ARE ALREADY TOGETHER, READER LOVES ANNOYING 1X)

YIPPPPPEEEE!!

ALSO SMALL NOTE!

NOTE : 1x1x1x1 is gender fluid in Forsaken , so every ONESHOT , 1x1x1x1's pronouns will change!!

Current one chosen for this oneshot! : He/him

WARNING : kinks used : humiliation, degradation, thigh job!

TITLE : half in , half out

1x1x1x1 stalked down the hallway, his heart pounding with frustration and pent-up arousal. That damnable ability of yours, allowing you to phase through walls with such ease, made it nearly impossible for him to catch you.

Each time he thought he had you cornered, you'd slip through the barrier, leaving him grasping at empty air.

He could hear your soft footsteps, the rustle of your clothes, always just out of his reach. It was maddening, being toyed with in such a way.

1x1x1x1's cock ached in his pants, straining against the confines of his clothing as he chased after you, his breathing growing heavier with each passing second.

Just as he was about to round a corner, he caught sight of you. Or rather, he caught sight of a tantalizing portion of you.

There you were, your ass and legs on full display, your upper body vanished into the wall like some sort of cruel illusion.

1x1x1x1 skidded to a halt, his eyes widening as he took in the sight of you, half-in and half-out of the wall.

A low, feral growl rumbled in his throat as he approached, his gaze locked onto the hypnotic sway of your ass as you deliberately shook it back and forth.

"You fucking tease," 1x1x1x1 snarled, closing the distance between you in a few long strides.

Before you could react, he had his hands on your ass, gripping the plush cheeks tightly as he yanked you back towards him.

Your gasp of surprise turned into a choked moan as he ground his rock-hard erection against your ass, the thick ridge of his budge sliding between your cheeks as he ruttted against you like a beast in heat.

"Fuck, you feel that, don't you?" 1x1x1x1 panted, his breath hot against your ear as he continued to molest your ass. "Feel how hard you've made me, you slut? I'm going to ruin you now."

His words were punctuated by the sound of his zipper being yanked down, the metallic rasp echoing obscenely in the empty hallway.

A moment later, the thick, green 1x1x1x1's massive, slimy green tentacle burst forth from the confines of his pants, slapping against the curve of your ass with a lewd, fleshy smack.

It pulsed, the slick, iridescent flesh glistening.

Before you could react, 1x1x1x1 had his hands on your thighs, gripping them tightly as he forced your legs apart.

Your pants stretched taut over your legs, the fabric straining against your skin as he spread you wide open.

Your thighs trembled and quaked under his bruising grip as he dragged the tip of his tentacle up the inside of your thigh, the slick flesh leaving a trail of shimmering, emerald slime in its wake.

It paused at the apex of your legs, the tapered point pressing insistently against your crotch. (You have no gender in this , so whatever you have down there)

A choked gasp tore from your throat, your hips jerking involuntarily as the tentacle rubbed and circled your most sensitive area.

1x1x1x1 chuckled darkly, a sinister sound that sent shivers down your spine. "That's it, moan for me, you needy little whore. Let me hear what a desperate slut you are."

His hips rolled forward, grinding the thick length of his tentacle against your crotch in rough, demanding strokes , using your thighs like a make shift fleshlight.

The slick flesh pulsed and throbbed, the tip flaring wider and narrower as it rubbed tight circles.

It didn't take long before 1x1x1x1 found his release, his tentacle jerking and spasming against your pants.

A flood of thick, slimy cum erupted from the tip, painting your pants with streaks of glowing, emerald green.

The hot, sticky fluid soaked through the fabric, plastering it to your skin and leaving you dripping with his essence.

1x1x1x1 groaned deeply as he pumped load after load of his thick, slimy seed into your pants, marking you as his.

Your thighs and crotch were absolutely drenched, the fabric of your pants now a shade of sickly green and clinging heavily to your skin.

"Fuck, look at the mess you made, you filthy whore," 1x1x1x1 taunted, giving your cum-soaked ass a hard smack. "I've ruined these pants, painted them with so much jizz. You won't be able to wear them again without thinking about me, without remembering how I used you."

He gripped your hips, yanking you back and grinding the soft, flaccid tentacle against your ass, smearing the sticky cum into your crack before kissing your neck. "You're mine now, understand?"

I HOPE YOU ENJOY

[greengoblinswifey]

Are you writing for the outer banks ? I would love a JJ and Pope x reader after this last season ❤️

summary— JJ and Pope are on the run, the least you can do is give them a place to stay and a hole to fill because your parents want to take away their livelihood.

warnings— slight s4 spoilers. slight angst, threesome, fingering, oral(m&f receiving), hand job, praise kink, ass slapping, degrading kink, rough sex, protected sex, unprotected sex, anal, choking, double penetration, creampie.

a/n— requests for obx are open, enjoy <3

︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵‿

Never in a million years would you have thought you’d be harboring fugitives. Your parents would skin you alive if they found out.

JJ’s footsteps echoed against the marble floor as he paced furiously back and forth across your bedroom. His fists clenched, jaw tight, he turned on you, eyes blazing. “Did you know about this?” he demanded, almost accusingly. “Did you know your family was trying to tear down everything we have left?”

“JJ, that’s not fair,” Pope interjected, his tone strained but trying to steady the atmosphere. Though Pope was calmer, you could see the tension in his eyes, the way he clenched his fists whenever he thought about everything they’d risked to fight for.

You swallowed, feeling their eyes burning into you. “No, I didn’t know,” you replied, fighting to keep your voice steady, though his accusation stung. “I would never be okay with that, and I can’t believe you’d think I would. I'm putting myself at risk for you two right now—do you have any idea what my parents would do if they found out?”

JJ ran a hand through his hair, exhaling hard as he finally sank onto the bed beside you, pressing his palms against his forehead. “I’m sorry,” he muttered, frustration lacing his apology. “I’m just—if they get their way, that’s it. Everything we’ve fought for is gone.”

Pope sat down on your other side, eyes dark and thoughtful as he tried to compose himself. “We’re just out of options. I don’t know where else to turn, and now we’ve got the cops on our backs too.” He looked down, clenching his jaw, before looking back at you. “But we don’t want you to get hurt either.”

You placed a hand on each of their shoulders, trying to calm them down. “Listen, we’ll figure this out. I’ll do everything I can to convince my parents to see it from your side. I won’t let them just rip everything away from you.”

JJ shook his head, though he seemed a little calmer. “I don’t know if you’ll be able to change their minds, but thanks for trying sweetheart ,” he murmured, a softer look passing over his face.

Pope nodded, gripping your hand in silent gratitude. “We trust you.”

As the room fell silent, the air thickened. JJ’s hand brushed along your thigh, firm yet cautious, while Pope’s fingers lingered at the back of your neck. You could feel the air between you three shift. You looked between them, and in their eyes, saw the same look—intense, lust blown, and wanting.

JJ’s gaze was unrelenting as he murmured, “Are you sure about this? We don’t have to unless you want to.” His voice was soft but laced with need.

You swallowed, heart pounding. “I want to,” you whispered, glancing back and forth between them. “I want this—with both of you.”

With that, you leaned toward Pope, lips finding his in a passionate kiss. His hands slid up your back, pulling you closer, while JJ’s fingers gently traced along your arm and then groping your tits. As Pope’s lips moved against yours, JJ’s hands lingered, his touch sending a rush of warmth through you.

“You’re so hot,” Pope murmured between kisses, his words barely audible, his breath warm against your skin.

JJ leaned close, brushing his lips just below your ear. “Let’s help you out of this,” he whispered, hands carefully guiding the fabric away from your shoulders. His fingers brushed along your skin, gentle and teasing, and you shivered under his touch.

They took their time, careful and attentive, each movement heightening what was between you. Pope’s hands found your waist, guiding you toward him as he pressed a soft kiss to your shoulder. You let out a soft moan, feeling completely enveloped by them both.

JJ’s lips met yours, his kiss full of restrained urgency. “We’ll take care of you,” he murmured, his hands tracing gentle patterns along your back.

Pope’s voice was quiet but steady. “We just want you to feel good, to let go.”

You smiled, nodding as warmth bloomed through you. “Don’t stop,” you whispered, meeting both of their gazes. You knew you were exactly where you wanted to be.

As they stood in front of you, both of them needing a release, you could feel the weight of their gazes. You knew exactly what they needed and you sank to your knees slowly, gaining their nods of approval as they watched you with admiration. JJ’s breath hitched as he muttered, “You really are something else, goddamn.” Pope nodded in agreement, a soft grin on his face. “You have no idea what you’re doing to us.”

You took your time unbuckling both their belts and their breathing quickened. As you did, both their cocks sprang free and you were surprised, to say the least. Pope was thick and long, the vein on his cock pulsing and JJ was so long, not as thick as Pope but you knew he’d fill you up just right. They both would.

With your eyes needy and doe eyed, you stared up at them, on your knees as you took JJ deep into your mouth, your other hand stroking Pope slowly.

“Fuck,” they moaned in unison. Their moans willed you on and you switched, taking Pope into your throat and stroking JJ as their heads fell back in utter pleasure.

“You’re fucking amazing, y’know that?” JJ panted. You hummed around Pope’s cock, gagging and bobbing your head faster, determined to feel his cum shoot down your throat. Your thumb massaged the tip of JJ’s shaft then down to his balls as your tongue swirled around Pope’s cock, and before long, you could feel him throbbing uncontrollably.

“You’re doing so good for us, shit, I’m gonna cum,” Pope breathed. You stared up at him, your eyes begging him to cum down your throat and he got the message. He held onto your curls lightly, holding you down as his cum shot down your throat and you swallowed every drop.

Feeling JJ’s balls tighten, you quickly took your mouth off Pope’s cock and went to his, massaging his balls and deep throating him. You were determined to make him cum too and very soon, you heard the unmistakable sounds of soft whimpers of your name and the feeling of warm cum filling your mouth. You hummed as you swallowed, savoring the taste of both that made your tastebuds tingle and your pussy wet.

When they finally pulled you up, JJ brushed a hand across your cheek, laughing softly. “You really do know how to take our minds off things.” You were proud of yourself, you made two men, friends at that, cum minutes apart.

“I think it’s our turn to make you feel good, s’that a good deal?” Pope inquired and you nodded desperately. He wrapped his arms around you, capturing your lips in a kiss and laid you onto the bed, spreading your legs as he did.

“Jesus,” he muttered.

“You are fucking soaked,” JJ praised, “did sucking our cocks turn you on that much?”

“Or are you just a slut?” Pope smirked.

You’d never heard them talk to anyone like that, it was different and it had you throbbing.

JJ leaned down, his eyes locked onto yours as his lips captured your pussy in a soft kiss. It was so intimate, he was practically making out it. He moved to your clit, his tongue flicking it as you gripped onto Pope who made his way beside you for support.

He used one hand to play with your nipples, the action sending waves of pleasure you never thought would be possible from such a simple gesture. Then, his other hand slowly trailed down your abdomen making you shiver as JJ continued his attack on your pussy. Pope’s fingers finally reached your wet hole, slipping in two immediately as JJ lapped at your juices.

“Tell us how good we’re making you feel,” Pope whispered, his fingers curling to find your g spot.

“You’re making me feel so good, you guys are so— fuck,” you moaned.

“Alright then, be a good girl and cum for us,” JJ smirked, his tongue’s movements speeding up and making you grip the sheets tightly.

You weren’t sure who or what to hold on to but you found yourself gripping on to JJ’s hair and your other hand clutching Pope’s as you squirted all over them. You shivered uncontrollably, slowly coming down from your high as they cooed at you.

“Bet none of those lame kooks made you squirt the way we just did,” Pope said, almost cockily.

You nodded shyly, he was right. No one had ever made you feel remotely close to what they just did, you needed more.

JJ grabbed a condom from his wallet, handing one to Pope and they both ripped it open, rolling it onto their hard cocks. You bit your lip in anticipation wondering how you would take the two behemoths in front of you. Was this how the night was really going to go?

JJ was first, him and Pope exchanging looks and finally, he got his own way as usual. He slid above you, his blue eyes piercing into your brown ones as he slowly rubbed the tip of his covered cock along your folds.

“You ready for this baby?” he asked, his voice raspy and low.

“Please just put it in.” He was more than satisfied with your answer and he slowly slid inside your pussy, you weren’t sure if it was to help you adjust or savor the moment. The wind was immediately knocked from you as his hips snapped harshly against you. Your nails dug into his shoulders and you squeezed your eyes shut, soft whimpers leaving your lips as he began rutting into you roughly.

“Oh c’mon, take it baby, this is what you wanted, wasn’t it?”

All you could do was moan and slightly push his hips away from you but your slight resistance proved futile. He was thrusting into you with such great force, you could feel him in your cervix. Pope stood there watching intently, his breathing irregular as he slowly pumped his covered cock, desperate for you to cum so he could be inside you.

“We both want you to cum baby, can you do that? Can you squirt on my cock?”

You buried your face in the crook of his neck, nodding as he continued to pound into you. He grabbed your neck and forced you flat on your bed then pinned your legs behind your head.

“Jesus christ, that’s it, look at this wet pussy all spread out for me,” he chucked.

Your pussy couldn’t take it any longer. Clenching tightly around him, you squealed as you felt a rush of liquid spray from you, soaking JJ and the sheets below. His movements slowed, allowing you to feel everything as you came down from your high.

“Your turn Pope, you’re gonna love that tight little pussy,” JJ said, slipping out of you and sitting in the chair opposite your bed.

You were so sensitive, your pussy twitching as Pope used the heavy tip of his cock to rub along your clit.

“Aww, are you sensitive?” he asked and you slowly nodded your head. “Well, too bad.”

As the words left his lips, he sank into you, spreading your legs wide open so he could be balls deep. You weren’t sure how you were taking him, JJ had definitely stretched you open and prepared you.

“Tell him how good it feels,” JJ demanded, sliding the condom off his cock. It wasn’t even full making you wonder why he was ditching it.

“Feels so fucking good, you’re so deep Pope, it feels so good.”

Your moans turned into screams as Pope’s cock collided with your g spot continuously and he reached between your bodies to play with your sloppy clit.

“C-can’t,” you sobbed, the pleasure almost unfathomable.

“Yes the fuck you can baby, now squirt on my cock like you did before, be a good girl,” Pope cooed.

Your pussy was obedient and as predicted, you squirted onto his cock, clutching Pope’s body as if he would disappear if you didn’t.

“See, you could, that’s a good girl, that’s my good girl,” he panted in your ear, your foreheads touching as he rutted into you hard but slow.

Your eyes were heavy and they began closing but it didn’t last long as you felt the bed dip and Pope move from the position above you.

“Arch that back,” Pope murmured but you were too dazed to do so.

They chuckled at your cock drunk demeanor and Pope put you into position with JJ sliding under you and Pope behind you. Pope slapped your ass harshly making you jolt and you felt the unmistakable feeling of the head of his cock, bare, probing your ass.

“W-what are you doing?” you inquired.

“It’s okay, just preparing you to take my cock in that tight ass.”

Before you could protest, JJ captured your lips in a deep kiss, his hand around your neck cutting off your oxygen just a bit.

“And you’re gonna take the both of us at the same time like a good fucking whore, yeah?”

JJ chuckled knowing he was squeezing your throat hard and you wouldn’t be able to answer.

You felt both their bare cocks at the entrance of your holes then the feeling of Pope spitting on your ass and using your juices from your pussy to help lubricate it.

“It’s gonna feel so good baby, I promise,” he cooed.

You felt your vision blur as both men sank into you at the same time. JJ’s hand moved from your neck to your mouth, finally allowing you to breathe. Your screams were muffled in his hand as neither men allowed you to adjust to their size and they began moving at the same brutal pace, the bed squeaking under their weight.

Your muffled screams turned into loud moans and the men took it as the opportunity to go even faster, your tits bouncing against JJ’s body as they did.

“See, what did I tell you beautiful? It’s gonna feel so good,” Pope cooed, slapping your ass.

“She’s such a fucking slut Pope, harboring fugitives and making them fuck her? What would mommy and daddy think?” They both chuckled, mocking you but your pussy squelching loudly was the biggest mockery.

“She’s clenching around the both of us, fuck,” Pope groaned, “cum for us, I know you want to.”

JJ squeezed your neck and used the other hand to rub rough circles on your clit. The pleasure surging all throughout you was too much and before long, your body convulsed violently and you came beneath them.

“Good fucking whore, such a fucking cock slut for us, so obedient. I can’t wait for us to fuck these holes every chance we get,” JJ muttered, his thrusts becoming more powerful.

“We’re gonna cum inside you, fill you to the brim and leave you here leaking,” Pope added.

You whimpered at their words, not able to form a single thought as both boys went at the same brutal pace. You would’ve thought they were trying to tear you apart. With deep moans, they stilled inside you, each pressing deep as their warm cum filled you up. Your holes clamped tightly around them, milking their cocks of all their cum and the feeling of being full in both your holes made your eyes roll back.

“That’s our girl, our little cock drunk whore,” JJ said. Both boys slipped out of you, collapsing on either side of you as they caressed your body.

Pope leaned over to turn up your radio, just in time to hear that the search was still on for him and JJ. Your heart dropped as you heard their last sighting was in your neighborhood.

“Well, that’s our cue,” JJ chuckled. They both sprang up, quickly putting on their clothes to make their escape. While you were half grateful they were leaving, scared someone would find you with them, both your holes leaking with their cum, you wish they could stay to cuddle you.

“Next time, yeah?” Pope said, placing a kiss on your forehead.

“We’ll be back soon and you’ll get those cuddles we know you want,” JJ added, placing a kiss on your lips.

You hummed in content. “Be safe you two, call me if you need anything.”

With that, the boys sneakily slipped out of your mansion, leaving you a leaking mess on the soaked sheets below you.

[mistreatedangel]

the stars between, theodore nott.

SUMMARY — you were his world, and he was your galaxy.

WARNINGS — nothing but fluff, short and sweet.

AUTHOR NOTE — i did write this off half an hour of sleep. so don’t kill me! written while listening to this song here.

WORD COUNT — 582.

it was more chillier then you thought it would be tonight. shivering in your loose ill—fitting sweater, that was more then two folds bigger then you. the fabric swallowing up your frame casting a blanket over your shoulders.

take a deep inhale, sucking in the air around you. drinking in the sweet scent of woody, a musk like scent with a hint of cigarette smoke.

he was here.

he always was. this was like his second home, a safe space he inclined himself to share, no graced, your presence with. his own little paradise. a heaven in the hell you and half of the students were doomed to live.

with the threat of death and destruction.

you wouldn't pass up a chance to live a little on the edge, even if you had to share it with an snake. you didn't need that it was him out of all of them.

he was once of the nicer ones, on the eyes and in personality. theodore nott, was a man with a heart of gold. doomed to follow his family foot steps.

"i see your darling friends let you go." he voiced dragging out word darling in a mocking tone, rolling his eyes. flicking the ash from his cigarette on to the railing before him, inhaling the smoke filled air around him. as it burned his lungs in a familiar sensation.

a gentle, almost comforting taste of freedom.

ignoring his word of distain for your friend. closing up on the older male (only by a few months, which he had no problem rubbing in your face ever chance he got.) snatching the cigarette from his frail, skinny hands. taking a few puffs before flicking it to the ground, trapping it beneath your heel, twisting your foot on it. snuffing out the flames.

"rude." he mumbled with half lipped eyes, turning his body towards you. pushing his back against the railing, looking you up and down.

"whatever teddy," you giggled rolling your eyes. pushing his shoulder back. pushing his further into the railing of the astronomy tower.

raising up his eyebrow, in curiosity. "oh so i'm teddy now. what happened to theodore amore mio’? i thought i was in time out." he teased tapping his lips with his index finger, admiring your facial expression.

". . . you know what. yeah— theodore!"

snickering his teeth, waving his index finger back and forth in a taunting gesture. "no it's teddy tesoro'."

pulling your body closer to him, soaking up all your body warmth. he could be like this for days. just laid up in your arms. pushing away the inevitable doom, that seems to be knocking on the doorsteps of the castle.

moving your body around, snaking your arms around the older males torso. digging your nails deep into the Theo's side. which for sure would leave crescent moon marks on his back. a reminder, a claim, a mark that his was yours. and only yours.

"ow— i know you like it rough. but hell woman." Theo hissed slapping at your hands playful. grinning like a mad man. oh how much he loved, no loves you. you were the stars in his bleak skies. the light the shined bright even when the most damn tried to dim your light. there you stood, headstrong. his very own star, a gift from the gods above.

his very own star, you were his world. and he was your solar system.

two pieces made for each—other, destined to fall.