#when .. did she become so dorky????

[chaotic-mystery]

PROFESSOR’S PET

Pairing: Art Professor!Joel AU x Teacher Assistant!f!reader.

Summary: Professor Miller wants you to teach the class tomorrow morning & you need help being less nervous. What if he’s the reason you’re nervous, though?

Content Warnings: SMUT 18+ only! MDNI. Age gap but not specified, power imbalance (professor x TA, reader stutters when nervous, academic weapon, teasing, fingering, one (1) pair of panties ripped to shreds, oral (f receiving), spitting, pussy slaps, praise kink, name calling (good girl, sweetheart, baby, smart girl), dirty talk, talking you through it, spanking, condescending a little bit, cum eating, face riding, nasty freaky kisses to share your cum, no use of y/n.

Authors Note: Good morning, babies! This is for @studioghibelli & their fantastic writing challenge. This moodboard was absolutely brilliant. As someone who did not go to college & can’t retain information well, I tried to research as much as I could about art so I hope I did it justice! 🩵 || wc: 2.6k || beta’d by @wannab-urs <333 ily sm gin ||

“You want me to do what?”

It came out more as an exclamation rather than a question but you didn’t care at the moment.

He couldn’t have been serious.

“I want you to teach the class tomorrow about your two favorite artists. That’s all I’m askin’” Professor Miller says, stuffing his papers back into the desk drawer for the night.

“B-but you know I don’t talk well in front of them, I constantly stutter and they don’t respond well to me yet, I-”

“Do you need me to help you with the lesson plan for tomorrow? I can come over and help you write down some notes on what you want to talk about, but I need you to get more comfortable around them. We have a long school year ahead of us, and it’s not going to work if you’re afraid to speak up here.”

He was annoyed having to explain his reasoning, but he was right. Even if you didn’t want to hear you were doing a terrible job as a teacher's assistant. Scratching your head and turning so he can’t see the look of shame on your face, Joel shuffles towards you and hands you your coat off the coat rack.

“It’ll be fine. All you need is a push and you’ll do great. Hurry before we miss the train.”

You nod and take your coat to put it on, the tan fabric becoming darker as you step outside and rain starts to pelt off it. Mr. Miller sighs and hoists his briefcase above his head and takes his other hand to the side of him searching for yours until he finds it and grabs it, guiding you through the raindrops until you get under the stone archway to take a brief moment for the rain to calm down.

“Can’t believe I’ve had you as a TA for almost two years now and have never once seen where you live or even know about you outside of this place.” His finger wags slowly behind his head, indicating he was referring to the school.

“I don’t really like to talk about myself, but my parents made a really good name for themselves. I was put through all the good schools they could toss their money at. I was supposed to go to school to be a lawyer, but I wasn’t interested in the slightest. I told my mom I wanted to study visual arts and she wasn’t too surprised, said I always had an eye for that sort of thing. I want to become a professor here one day but for now I just want to learn everything I can, ya know?” You smile at the ground as you think about teaching here someday and hope it doesn’t come off as dorky.

He’s so much older than you and probably knows so much between art and life. You could only hope to have as much knowledge as him when you become a professor.

“I think that’s amazing honestly. I hope to one day see you as a professor here whenever you feel like you’re ready.”

His grin eases your nerves, and you hear the train coming, taking his hand once more to run to the train stop. Your shoes squeak against the vinyl flooring of the moving cabin until you get to a seat by the foggy window, plopping your bag right next to you with Joel sitting across the small white table that was tattered from all the use.

The train ride to your town wasn’t too long and Joel read almost the entire time, asking you every now and then if you were okay. Once you catch a taxi to take you home, it drops you off right at the black iron gates. He steps out of the sleek black car and is a little taken aback by the size of your house.

“What’s the matter? I told you they had money.” You giggle and push the buzzer on the stone post to the left of you, telling them to let you inside. Almost instantly, the gates push open and you walk along the pebble drive, flinging your book bag over your shoulder as he follows a few steps behind you, taking in the beauty that is your house.

Once you get inside and introduce him to the small group of staff working, they tell you your parents went out for the evening to some charity event and there’s food in the fridge if you were hungry.

The nerves about teaching tomorrow overrode the feeling of being hungry, but you still offered Joel anything he could’ve wanted. He settles with water, and you leave him in the study where he’s content with gazing at the walls covered in full bookshelves about any and everything.

You come back in and shut the rosewood pocket doors quietly, careful not to disturb him from the current book in his hand about astronomy. The way his fingers grazed over the corners of the pages made your stomach tingle just a little bit, the dim lighting from the chandelier glowing a soft yellow on his face as he was entranced by the contents.

Get it together, he’s off limits, you tell yourself.

There was no ring on his finger and he always talked about his lonely weekends, but still. You were his teacher's assistant.

You clear your throat and set his water down on the desk before you turn on the green bankers lamp sitting at the edge of the table. Joel closes the red leather book and looks up at you, noticing the water, and he puts the book back where he found it.

“Thank you.” He raises the glass to you before taking a sip, the muscles in his neck contracting as he swallows, and it brings that same feeling as before that you felt in your stomach.

So, give me two of your favorite art pieces and the artist with some facts about them. You don’t have to start from their birth or anything.”

He pinches his slacks right on the thighs to hike them up just a little before he sits down in the wooden chair at the head of the table, his hands on the back of his head as his fingers interlock against his skull.

Focus.

You pace back and forth at the other end of the table, Joel’s eyes on you intently as you fiddle with your fingers, running through the list of artists you tend to gravitate towards.

“I got it. Botticelli.”

“Nice choice. Why him?”

You continue to walk back and forth and sort out which facts about him and his artwork you love to tell people they wouldn’t normally know.

“I love the painting Birth of Venus but um- it’s not technically her birth story, it’s m-more like the story continued after her birth; when she steps off her shell and onto the island of Cyprus. S-she’s being blown onto…” you take a deep breath in and put your head in your hands.

“I’m sorry, Joel.”

You turn away from him and look out the window trying to compose yourself.

“Just take your time, I’ve got all night, kid.”

Turning to face him, he’s sitting straight up now and you can tell he’s listening to every word coming out of your mouth. His dark jacket is tight on his arms and it’s just enough to show the outline of his muscles.

“She’s being blown onto shore by the spring winds which is Zephyr, who is accompanied by his wife, Chloris, who’s also blowing Venus’ shell to shore. Her pose was most likely inspired by an ancient marble statue in the Medici’s collection, which we refer to as the Medici Venus, the first ever nude female sculpture in classical art.”

You manage to recite all of that without stuttering this time and he grins proudly.

“I knew you could do it. Good job. Now, what I want you to do is write down bullet points on this note card with a keyword that’ll spark your mind and draw the facts out of you fluently.”

Your cheeks warm at first and then your brows furrow at his instructions.

“What do you mean, professor?”

“Come here, I’ll show you.”

He scoots his chair back enough so you can stand to the side of him and watch as he scribbles down some words on the lined piece of paper. The red ink flows effortlessly and he pushes it to you, pointing at what he did.

“It’s just a keyword that’ll spark your brain to talk about it. If you write down everything you’re gonna say, it sounds like a robot trying to read it. This way, you won’t get overwhelmed by everything you wanna say and you can sound effortless.”

You nod as the gears in your head turn, the idea making perfect sense now. Reaching out to grab another note card, you bend over to write on it, starting at the top. You feel Joel’s hand on the small of your back very lightly as he watches you write, the pen in your hand moving faster than he’s ever seen.

“The next one is gonna be the technique he used for the painting.”

You write the word ‘technique’ shakily, trying to breathe manually.

“What about his technique?” Joel asks, his hand not moving from your back.

“H-he um, he used the tempera technique, it’s when you d-dilute a raw egg with water and mix watered down p-pigment with it and um-um paint with it.” Your words get breathy and all at once you stand straight up, clearing your throat once more.

“You’re still pretty nervous. Is it me? Am I making you nervous?” The condescending tone in Professor Miller's voice makes the hair on the back of your neck stand up, feeling like you’ve been called out.

“Partially, maybe.” You admit and turn away from him but you don’t move from next to him.

He runs his hand over his scruff and smirks slyly.

“Do you trust me?”

Without hesitation you nod yes.

“Turn around for me.” Joel’s hands grip your hips and spin you around in your spot.

“Now read your little note card for me. Come on, you’ve got this, smart girl.”

That was all you had to hear to make your stomach flip and arousal flood your body. Smart girl.

His hands never leave your hips as he holds you still, subconsciously rubbing the fabric of your skirt on the waistband while you read your notes. You manage to get through half of them before you stutter out and stop again.

“Again, from the top.” He says softly, still holding onto you. Just as you begin to speak, you feel yourself being guided backwards and you don’t stop talking, going with the flow of things.

For the purpose of learning, right?

Joel puts you right against his thighs, his head peeking over the side of your arm to see what bullet point you were on.

“Keep going, you’re doing such a good job.” He whispers as he rubs your back gently.

“Botticelli used the tempera technique, which is when you mix a r-raw egg with water a-and you dilute yo-our pigment with water and mix th-em together.”

His hand ever so slowly moves around the side of your thigh until he’s on the top of it, his thumb dangerously close to the point of no return. Your breaths were getting heavier and you were almost positive he could feel your heart rattling in your body like a caged animal.

“Joel, I-”

“Start it again, and if you stutter I’ll stop.”

His hand dips under your skirt and he nods to your index card, wanting you to restart.

“Well come on, be a good girl for me.” He grunts out and smirks before biting your arm playfully.

You didn’t know how you got here or why he wanted to touch you this way but you weren’t going to stop him. He was a good looking man and god forbid you do something out of your normal routine.

His fingertips dance over your overly excited clit and release some tension for you, and it’s like a key to a gate, your legs spreading more and more with every circle from his middle finger. You continue to talk through his efforts to make you stutter, even when he gets faster and kisses your back.

“Just like that, sweetheart. Next artist, let’s go.” He pushes you up on the desk and splits your legs apart, ripping your panties in two before he takes off his jacket and rolls his shirt sleeves up to his elbows.

“The Swing painted by Jean-Honore Fragonard. It’s said it’s a commission from a man on the court who requested Fragonard to paint him and his younger mistress being pushed on a swing while he watches and admires her-oh my god, Joel, right there, yes, yes.”

His tongue dances against your clit after he spits on it, licking every inch of you just to hear your pretty moans. His hands travel up your abdomen until he gets to your shirt, ripping the buttons apart to see your beautiful breasts. A deep groan against your overly sensitive clit makes your eyes almost roll back into your skull and he slaps your pussy firmly.

“That’s not being a good girl. Did I tell you to stop?”

“No, sir.” You whimper and try to get back on track about the painting you were talking about. His curls tickle against the soft insides of your thighs as he continues, licking feverishly at your clit.

“The brushwork is rapid and it exemplifies the Rococo style of playfulness and elegance” you whimper out and buck against his face, your hand dipping into his hair to tug firmly.

He spanks your ass as he feels your body squirm under him, tugging your legs to rest on his shoulders as he continues to lap up your arousal.

“You’re such a filthy girl, riding your professor's face in your house, naughty naughty girl. Oh, yes, cmon sweetheart, use my mouth.”

You moan his name louder and thank god your sounds are muffled from the rest of the house by all the literature covering the walls. Somehow you finish telling him about the painting and he looks at you as you cry out for more from him, your slick glossing over his mustache.

“Please make me come, Joel. Please, I need you so bad.” You kiss him roughly and try to grab his rock hard bulge but he pulls his hips away and groans loudly on your lips before grinning, going back down to your pussy and moaning against you.

“Come right on my face, right fuckin’ now. Let me taste how sweet you are. I know you can’t handle much more and you don’t wanna disappoint me, right baby?” Joel smirks and flattens his tongue against your clit once more, teasing you and enjoying this just as much as you were.

The burning sensation in your belly starts to spill over and before you can tell him, you grip both edges of the table and come against his face, crying and squirming to get away from him but it only makes Joel pin you down by your wrists and lick harder, tasting every bit you give him.

He licks you clean and kisses his way up your stomach, through the valley of your breasts to your lips, sharing the deliciousness with you. As you come down from your high, the grandfather clock in the corner of the room starts to chime, indicating it was midnight.

“That 7:30 A.M. class is gonna be here before you know it, professor.” You push the damp curls off his forehead and giggle as he stands up tiredly, holding a hand out for you. As you sit up on the table, his hand cups your cheek and kisses you deeply once more.

“You owe me sleep, so much sleep.”

[plathfiles]

sirius black being the cockiest mf ever trying to impress his crush and she is not impressed in the slightest to the point he starts getting really shy around her because he no longer knows how to act if his usual bravado doesn't work

but turns out just being his dorky, vulnerable, and still (softer) flirty self works like a charm!!

Sirius would totally the most cocky and immature tactics to get you to go out with him. it would be romantic for sure. im picturing the dance number that heath ledger sings in “10 things i hate about you.”

I hope you enjoy!

𝐂𝐚𝐧’𝐭 𝐓𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐌𝐲 𝐄𝐲𝐞𝐬 𝐎𝐟𝐟 𝐘𝐨𝐮 | 𝐒.𝐁

summery: after Sirius gives up on his boastful ways of flirting, you turn the other cheek and notice the popular marauder is sweet and dorky on the inside.

warnings: not proof read. one inappropriate joke, but that’s all 🫶🏻

pairing: sirius black x reader

Sirius Black was a charmer. That was for certain. Rumors spread like the plague of his roughish ways. You were not a fan of him, which was unfortunate for you because he was a fan of you. Constantly. Every chance he would get, he would flirt you up in the hallway.

“Hey y/n, what are you doing later?” He would ask you. You replied with, “McGonagall’s transfiguration essay.”

Sirius just smirked and returned with his cocky banter, “That’s a shame, I wish you’d do me instead.” He grinned, James and Peter behind him laughing.

It wasn’t genuine, or at least that’s how you felt. You rolled your eyes and replied with, “You wish, Black. In your dreams.”

You walked away with out seeing or hearing Sirius’ response. It frustrated you to no end that he would joke that way. You wanted to save him the trouble. He was obnoxious and too cocky for your own liking.

You missed when he was sweet and genuine. Not the popular boy that has become a staple at Hogwarts.

Sirius on the other hand, genuinely did want you. But no other tactic had gotten him a date. The rumors were misconstrued and he put on a cocky front. But in reality he was just as shy and dorky as he used to be.

One night after a hogsmeade trip, you were reading in the Gryffindor common room. It was a nice quiet night by the fire place. But all of a sudden, Sirius showed up, sat in an arm chair near you and started playing with wizarding cards.

“Could you keep that down?” You asked him, looking up from your book.

You expected a witty and cocky calculated response, but instead Sirius looked flushed. He ran a hand through this shiny hair and nodded, a little shy.

He gave up on impressing you and being so boastful. What did he have to lose? “Yeah sure, sorry.” He replied.

Sirius’ response continued to surprise you. Where were his annoyingly witty comments and jokes? Why wasn’t he flirting?

“Are you okay?” You asked, now a little confused.

“Yeah I’m fine,” he replied, lookin over at you. In his mind you looked so beautiful sitting by the fire. “Urm—actually I wanted to apologize. For making you so upset. I just think you’re really pretty an all. But I’m taking the hint and I’ll stop.”

He sounded so sweet about it and vulnerable. This was the Sirius you liked. The genuine one.

You smiled softly, “Thank you for the apology Sirius. I appreciate it. But you really think I’m pretty?” You asked.

He nodded, continuing to be sincere in his response. “Yeah, could never take my eyes off you love?” He said. It was straightforward and flirty but absolutely adorable and dorky.

You blushed. Why couldn’t be t he like this all the time?

“I like you like this.” You said, with a small smile. Sirius flushed.

“Y-you-u do?” He asked, a little surprised. This was the first time you’d shown him affection.

“Yeah. I mean when you aren’t being so boastful and cocky around me. I like the genuine you, Sirius.” You said.

With that, he sat up and walked over to the couch. He sat next you and both were facing each other.

“Sooo, I guess what you’re saying is???” He teased. You lightly pushed him and laughed.

“I’m saying if you tried to ask me out in a less boastful way. I would say yes.” You explained, blushing.

Sirius felt like he’d won the jackpot. “Really?! Uh I mean oh that’s cool.” He said, earning another giggle out of you.

“Y/n, will you go out with me?” He asked, sincerely.

You nodded, “Yes Sirius, I will.”

[lilacqiqis]

"Darling"

naruto, kakashi, obito(non massacre), hinata, itachi(non massacre), sasuke, sai

Scenario: getting casually called darling by their crush

A/N: pls send in Naruto reqs I'm starving to write stuff, also finally decided to give characters specific emojis LMAO last post i made i randomly gave them emojis 😭 Writing this at 3 AM sorry if it's ass -mod Lilac

TW: none, GN!reader

more under the cut

🌱 Naruto isn't used to romantic affection from people, let alone his crush, so his reaction when you call him "darling" is a huge gaping mouth and stuttering as he tries to process what you said

🌱 "W-wait!! Whuh?! Huhhh?!! Whaddja call me?!"

🌱 Whether it's a joke or not he has a dorky smile after as he laughs, the pet name making him feel warm inside. He probably will try and call you a pet name back afterwards, hoping you'll like it just as much as he did.

🌱 Goes to brag to all his friends the next day. "Hey hey! Guess what?! S/O called me DARLING!!" Nobody really cares too much honestly, they think he's overreacting or even lying.

🌾 A stoic man he is, that Kakashi. Not much can get him flustered, besides reading Icha Icha of course.

🌾 He usually can keep his feelings hidden away from his crush, treating you like any of his other friends, but when you call him darling? Lucky that he's wearing a mask because you'd be able to see the huge blush forming on his face.

🌾 He'd try not to react too much, his eye slightly widening and body tensing up when the word hits him. It felt so... Natural? The pet name came off your tongue so nicely that Kakashi can't help but want to hear it more.

🌾 Wouldn't comment on it, but may bring it up in the future to tease you. Perhaps to get back at them he'll also call you a romantic pet name... Nah, he's too nervous to do that, if he was that bold he'd go and just confess already!

🌺 Like Naruto, Obito is flabbergasted. He's liked you for gods who knows how long and you can just casually call him that while he becomes a mess just hugging you?

🌺 His head whips towards you so quickly as he stares at you with wide eyes. How is he supposed to react to this?! Does this mean you like him...? Did you even mean this romantically in the first place? Do you call other people that too?!

🌺 His mind is running and he just kinda... Stares at you in awe. Don't let him down by telling him it was just a joke when he questions you later, he'll be devastated.

🌺 Obito will try and be confident, calling you an affectionate pet name as well but all that comes out is stuttering.

🌺 "Heheh... I think so too, s... S-sweet... Sw-sweethEART OKIMGOINGTOGONOWBYES/O"

🌻 Goes absolutely red. Hinata already gets embarrassed by little gestures so something like getting called darling is sure to make her pass out!

🌻 Did you really mean that? She hopes so! That small name made her day, and she won't ever forget about it<3

🌻 Of course, she's still too shy to admit her feelings to you. If that was your way of confessing you'd be dumb to not see that she obviously likes you too... You'd probably be dumb to not notice her behavior before, after all Hinata isn't very good at hiding her feelings towards you.

🌻 She wouldn't realize it's a confession of your attraction if that was your motive, so please be more blunt with her.

🌙 If you think he wouldn't remember, he will. Itachi is a romantic individual, though not as much before a relationship. He takes note of everything S/O says, and will try to hint towards his feelings through small actions and words.

🌙 Absolutely loves it. Itachi will think about the pet name, wondering if you'd mind if he called you that as well. Maybe you'd get embarrassed that you're getting a taste of your own medicine? It's not the humiliation part Itachi would enjoy, but he'd love to see your flustered face.

🌙 Doesn't make a huge fuss when you call him darling, probably doesn't even say anything about it, but has a small smile while thinking about it.

🌙 Will begin to also call you pet names!! It depends on how close you are, but if you two are good friends he'll return your affection. You two probably end up having a lot of romantic tension while everybody suffers watching wondering if one of you two will finally confess or not...

🪻 Sasuke loves hates it. Do NOT call him that cheesy warm and gooey shit, he will scoff at you then turn his head away. jk he just has an ego to protect

🪻 Hates how it makes him feel. That disgusting ticklish feeling he gets in his stomach and the heat in his face makes him feel weak and vulnerable, so stop that. This is just as bad as a genjutsu and he doesn't like it one bit!

🪻 In reality though, Sasuke adores being called darling. He's just... Really bad at dealing with affection you know? He doesn't know how to react and the feeling of love is so foreign to him, so his only way of reacting is acting like he hates it in hopes of ridding his feelings. (Spoiler alert:it doesn't help one bit.)

🪻 You can catch him with a soft blush and tiny smirk on his face if you can catch a glance before he turns his head. Quit being such a loser and just accept it, Sasuke!

🪶 This was mentioned in his book, so Sai should act accordingly, right? He'll begin to also call you pet names, and he probably already did before you due to the fact he read a book saying he should...

🪶 Doesn't quite understand the meaning behind the sweet names but he's trying his best

🪶 It makes him happy though, being able to connect with you... Someone he enjoys being around so much, someone who he feels he has a "special" bond with.

🪶It creeps into your twos friendship, and before you know it you two are acting like a married couple with all your affectionate behavior.

[pappydaddy]

made for loving you (s.h.)

a/n: we are just pretending that they had the ability to remotely check their voicemail systems in 1985, okay lovelies? awesome!

tv show/movie: stranger things | pairing: steve harrington x fem!reader

requested by the lovely @echos-scomplink (ily lovely!)

synopsis: steve fears his chance with y/n is ruined leading to breathless proclamations in the rain. based on i was made for loving you by kiss.

taglist: @the-weeping-author | @lilypad-55449 | @popeheywardssecretgf | @smarie7547 | @eichenhouseproperty | @slytherinambitious | @k-k0129 | @ihatepeanutss | @moralina |  @poppet05 | @rottenstyx | @boxofsilentwords | @badass-yn |  @lexi-2004 |@i-always-come-back-xoxo | @rootbeerfaygo |  @savagemickey03 *line through your user means i could not tag you lovelies!

warnings: depictions of being beat up | blood mentioned | fluff

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____

  King Steve never believed in the whole soulmate idea. He found it certifiably insane for someone to think that someone was made specifically for one person, it was baffling to him. Not only did the idea of commitment send a shockwave akin to the eight-point-zero magnitude earthquake through his body, but the idea of committing to one person blew his feeble little mind. How could someone become so in love with one person? Was it just that it is actually just socially acceptable to have affairs and simply never talk about it? He didn’t understand it. He couldn’t comprehend the rhotic lacing romance novels and movies. How could someone be so obsessed with someone that they devote their whole life to this one person? How could someone be so obsessed with someone that can be happy spending their whole life around someone? Because, certainly, his parents are not happy spending their whole lives together.

  It all fell into place like puzzle pieces in the Summer 1985 when he first laid eyes on Y/N L/N. She worked in the Ladies’ Speciality store on the same floor as Scoops Ahoy. He would see her going to the food court, passing by the Parlour on her way to her shift or leaving for the day. He hadn’t even talked to her and he was infatuated. Not a word was spoken to him from her lips and he was being driven mad by the thought. It wasn’t until Y/N came in to get some ice cream with Robin (the two forming a friendship from working so close together) on her day off before they headed to the community pool that he spoke his first words to her. 

  From there, he was entranced. It all made sense to him. Every poem ever written about the obsession of love. Every line of literature that oozed with the sense of pining. He knew that he was made solely for her. To love her. To hold her. To simply be with her. It was his higher purpose. His calling. He was simply there to be hers. Despite his fumbling attempts at talking to her, Y/N found his dorkiness endearing enough to take a chance on him by making the first move - asking him to call her.  

  Unfortunately, that’s as far as Steve got before getting trapped in a storage room and plummeting into a Russian Underground Base. Her phone number in his passenger seat and the suggestive words of a date hanging in the air of his car from where she uttered them two nights ago. If he hadn’t been trapped and, consequently, kidnapped by Russians, there would be no way in hell Y/N would be at the Fourth of July party with some jock who didn’t even know her favourite ice cream flavour. 

  “I’m sorry,” Steve blinked, a dumb look on his face as he looked at Robin. Robin cocked her head to the side with a roll of her eyes, waiting for Steve to speak as she still held the payphone receiver in the air. “I must have heard you wrong,” He continued, speaking with a chuckle, hoping she was wrong. “‘Cause it sounded like you said that Y/N left you a voicemail saying she was going out on a date tonight-”

  “It’s ‘cause of the giant flesh spider running rampant through Hawkins, isn’t it?” Dustin nodded as if he understood why Steve was so pale after hearing this news. Baffled, Steve and Robin both looked at him as he stood there, sweat staining through his graphic shirt. 

  Opening and closing his mouth like a fish, Steve shot a panicked look between Dustin and Robin. The three of them were off to the side, away from the rest of the scheming groups as Robin checked her voicemail, hoping to hear anything from Y/N to make sure she was okay. “No,” Steve nearly yelled, his voice impossibly high. “Well, now I’m worried about that.” 

  Robin, finally hanging up the phone, sighed. “She said he was taking her to the carnival,” Dread filled Steve. Obviously, Robin noticed since she continued on. “According to Hopper and Joyce, the carnival was untouched by the giant flesh spider-” She gave Dustin a pointed look for wording it that way. “And if this flesh spider is looking for this El girl, Y/N should be safe.” 

  “Again, not what I’m worried about,” Steve stressed, a hand coming up to run through his matted and grimy hair. Blood, sweat, and product weighed his normally fluffy hair down. “I’m more concerned about the fact that she’s out on a date with another guy because I was just trapped in a Russian Base for like three days!”

  Dustin scoffed, causing Steve’s eyes to point angrily at him. “Calm down, Drama Queen. It was like 48 hours,” Dustin looked between Steve and Robin, shrinking slightly as he took in the context of the situation. “Which clearly felt like three days and jeopardised Steve’s chances with Y/N. I can clearly see that now.” 

  Silence enclosed around the three as they stood there. Robin ran the voicemail over in her head, trying to decipher how her new friend felt about this date knowing her feelings for the floppy haired new graduate that currently stood across from her. Dustin, trying to gauge the situation, looked between Robin and Steve before slowly starting to back up in an attempt to remove himself. 

  Steve. Steve was a ball of anxiety. So much so that this made Robin realise that Steve had actually changed. King Steve wouldn’t have cared. King Steve would have just shrugged it off and went off to find his new conquest. She could actually see the doubts and insecurities bubbling to the surface of his mind. “Wow. Nancy Wheeler ruined you, didn’t she?” Robin whispered, but she wasn’t one-hundred percent sure that the words met Steve’s ears. His mind seemed to be screaming too loud for him to hear anything else. 

  “I should’ve just manned up and asked her out,” Steve was beating himself up. Literally. Robin watched, a look of pure shock and bafflement on her freckled face, as he beat a closed fist into an opened hand. Just enough for his already swollen, bruised, and cut face to wince but not enough for it to attract anyone’s attention. “Now, she’s probably having the time of her life with this quarterback who will get a full ride to the University of Alabama or something-” He muttered to himself, the punches continuing, concerning Robin slightly. 

  “Woah, woah, woah,” Robin’s voice cracked slightly as she lunged forward. Gently, her hands grasped Steve’s wrists, keeping him from hitting his hand again. Steve, eyes watering in sheer insecurity, looked at her. Her heart broke for both her new found friends. She knew Y/N wasn’t having the time of her life. A, she hated stereotypical jocks and, if memory serves Robin right, this guy was the quintessential quarterback. B, she wasn’t with Steve - her long-standing crush. Something she admitted to Robin drunkenly. “Go to her.” 

  “What?” Steve’s voice was wobbly. It was soft. 

  “Go to her, Steve. You remember where she lives, you dropped her off that one time when her car wouldn’t start,” She started to explain. “Go to her, tell her how you feel. Lay it all at her feet.” 

  “W-what about everyone else?” He stammered, wide eyes looking towards the cluster of people. Robin waved her hand dismissively, making him look back at her. Her blue eyes were so confident and sure. They were compelling him to listen to her. Confirming that everything will be okay if he just listened to her. 

  They stared at each other, locked in a kind of communication only people destined to be best friends could achieve. “We can survive. We will survive.” She urged him despite the fact that she didn’t believe those words one bit. Swallowing thickly, Steve slowly nodded. Brown eyes casting over the cluster of people. Some he fought side-by-side with for the past two years, some who just joined the battle. They were all probably more capable than Steve at everything. At least, that’s what he tells himself. 

  Squaring his shoulders, he stood to his full height. “I’m going,” He spoke with a firm nod. The kind of nod that sealed some of the best and worst plans in history. “I’m going to her.” Just as the rubber sole of his converse slapped the pristine tile as he started to move towards the exit, unsure of how he’s going to get to Y/N’s place with no car, Hopper’s sharp whistle of his lips stopped him. 

  Seeing a Walkie-Talkie flying through the air, landing right in the scrambling hands of a nervous Dustin, disappointment and dread filled him. He wasn’t going to be able to slip away that easily. He barely listened as Hopper, Dustin, and Erica bickered about how it was best for them to communicate, hoping that whatever the solution was could spare him. His body buzzed with the need to tell Y/N everything. The need to bare his soul to her. The need to be near her - nay. To be hers. 

  The jingle of keys brought him from his locked in zone, letting him catch the keys Hopper was throwing him in time. “Steve’s in charge.” Those words weighted Steve’s soul down to the depths of the bowls of Hell for he knew this night was far from over. 

  “Come on,” Steve gruffed, his drive zeroing in. His sole focus was simply on beating this shit for another time and getting to Y/N as fast as he could. “Let’s kill these bastards.” 

____

  By the time it all fell silent again, rain was pelting down. Once the paramedic’s gave Steve the okay to leave and the firefighters were able to retrieve one of his keys from the Scoops backroom (thank god for cold rooms), he didn’t waste any time speeding off. He knew he should probably change his clothes from something that bore his blood, sweat, and tears, but he simply couldn’t waste another moment. That’s how, after a bout of reckless driving and a few near-misses, Steve was parking on the street, peering into the darkened driveway of Y/N L/N’s house. 

  A moment of hesitation fluttered through him. One thought was about the possibility of her not being home. The other one being the very likely possibility of her being asleep given the late hour. Another thought was about her parents not appreciating a beaten and bloody person professing their love for their daughter. However, a warm glow emitting from an upstairs window and her car being the only one parked in the driveway reassured him enough for him to muster the courage back up to get out of the car. 

  “You just survived two days in a Russian base and an interdimensional creature made of human flesh. You can do this.” He breathed, pumping himself up. Shaking his limbs out, his eyes zeroed in on the front door of her house. Just like a magnet, his body started to be pulled towards her, almost as if it were sure that it was meant to be around her. With a determination greater than the determination he felt to get out of the Russian base, he started to move quicker up her driveway until he was practically running up the rather long driveway, rain pelting his shirt and hair. 

  Standing there, his chest heaved as his back tingled with a mix of excitement and nerves. Before his consciousness could catch up, his finger was jabbing the doorbell repeatedly - much to his own horror. Despite not wanting to continuously ring the doorbell, his finger couldn’t seem to leave it alone until she pulled the door open. It was like his eyes were desperate to see her and his body was doing everything in its power to do just that. 

  “I’m coming, I’m coming.” Even with the muffled voice barely making it through the wooden front door and the sound of socked feet rushing down the stairs, his finger never ceased to stop pushing the doorbell. Part of him hoped that if the Jock did accompany her back to her place, his incessant doorbell ringing was annoying him. The large majority of him, however, was mortified that he couldn’t seem to stop ringing the damn doorbell. Suddenly, the door was pulled open, the burst of air from the movement making her hair wisp back from her face perfectly and Steve was stunned into a stupor, finger pressing on the button. 

  “Steve,” A look of shock crossed her face before it deepened once she caught the sight of his face in the glow of the entryway light. “Oh, my god, Steve!” She breathed out, concern lacing her voice as her hand came up to delicately cover her mouth as she took in his nearly swollen shut eye. 

  He couldn’t muster up any words. Hell, he couldn’t even take his finger off the doorbell. Hesitantly, Y/N reached out. He wasn’t sure if she was scared of him or scared to hurt him, but once her slightly cold fingers met the wet skin of his wrist, he blinked out of the trace he had been lulled into. “I needed to come see you,” His voice was much more hoarse than what it had been earlier. His throat was dry from the lack of water, but his body was becoming more and more exhausted as the seconds ticked by, but he felt energy shooting through him now that he stood in her presence. “Robin told me about your date with the Jock tonight and I couldn’t lose you just because I was kidnapped by Russians for two days.” 

  “You were what,” Y/N blinked, expression dropping from shocked to horrified. “Steve! You need to go to the hospital or the police station! Not to my house! This is serious-” She started fretting, her hands coming up, looking like they were going to lay on his face. His skin tingled in anticipation of her touch on him and his chest heaved as he tried to control his breathing, his eyes darkening, but her hands stilled halfway there. “Does it hurt?” She breathed, hands slightly shaking as her own adrenaline coursed through her.

  Steve, with another surge of confidence, reached his own hands out to grab her wrists gently. Suddenly, as his fingers wrapped around the softness of her skin, he was all too aware that he hadn’t had a shower in two days and probably smelled horrible. On top of it, he was very much aware of the level of grime on his skin. But Y/N didn’t seem to care as her wrists seemed to sink into his hands, relief washing over her at the feel of his touch. “I’m fine. I got checked over by the paramedics, the Feds were there. I am fine,” He reassured her, noting the worry that still swam within the depths of her eyes. “But I needed to come see you. I would have ran here the second I escaped, but I was stopped.” 

  “Probably the paramedics stopped you because you were kidnapped, Steve,” She blinked and in a split second, guilt consumed him for not being able to tell her more. He was sure he would eventually tell her everything, but he didn’t want to scare her off. “But why did you need to see me so badly, you must be exhausted.” She furrowed her eyebrows, eyes flicking over his face. 

  “I needed to tell you how I feel, Y/N. Hearing that you were out with the Jock tonight, I-” He cut himself off, his throat swelling with emotion. “I couldn’t lose you. I couldn’t lose the person I was made for,” His words were like drops of blood dripping from his bleeding heart. “I can’t get enough of you, Y/N. I need to be around you and I’ve never understood the concept of soulmates until I saw you,” Shock crashed against Y/N like a tidal wave. Staring at the beaten and bruised boy, she could only manage to blink her eyes slowly as his words bleed with passion. “Y/N, there is no doubt in my mind that I was made solely to love you.” 

  Those words hung in the air like an anvil ready to squash Steve as his eyes burned into her shell-shocked ones. Her mouth hung open slightly as he could see her brain processing the words her ears just heard. Suddenly, she snapped back to reality, her jaw softly closing as she stood up, eyes as soft as a plush bed - making Steve want to lay within them for the rest of his life. “Oh Steve,” She breathed out, seemingly overwhelmed with the proclamation. Steve’s heart lurched, the anvil dropping an inch. An equally as soft smile as her eyes graced her lips, but it did little to ease Steve’s anxiety. “I thought you were never going to make a move. I thought you didn’t like me like that-” 

  Her words were cut off as Steve grabbed her face in his blood stained and, truthfully, grimy hands. In one motion, his lips nearly jumped on hers, kicking off a feverish kiss. His lips moved against her stunned ones as if she were the water he was so deprived of for two days. As if she were the thing he was derived from for so long. As if she were the air he needed in order to live. 

  He could feel the gentle touch of her fingertips ever so lightly touching his forearms as her lips seemed to match his speed, her body coming to life after falling into the shock of the sudden kiss. Goosebumps marked the trail of her fingertips as they made their way up to his hands. Soon, the warmth of her hands rested over his, just sitting there. Almost as if she was using them to tell if this was real or just a dream. Steve was worried about the same thing but the coldness of the pouring rain hitting his back as the wind blew it under the cover of her porch told him it was all reality.

  Their lungs ached, Steve’s bruised ribs pulsed from his lungs beating against them, begging for air, not realising the lips he was attached to were (in fact) his air. Their chests swelled with warmth, both from their hearts becoming electrified with love and from the burning of their chests screaming from the lack of air. Lips became feverish in desperation as they both realised that, soon, they would have to pull away. Steve hated himself as he reluctantly pulled his lips back ever so slightly, just enough for both of them to suck in air, chests heaving - panting as if they had just ran a marathon. 

  Neither of them opened their eyes, feeling the laboured puffs of breath against their swollen lips as shockwaves of tingles shot through their bodies as if they were still kissing. “Nope,” Steve shook his head. “Not enough yet.” Y/N’s eyes fluttered open out of an act of confusion just in time for Steve’s lips to pounce back onto hers, this time her feet stumbling back from the force, his body crashing flush against hers. A squeak left her lips as she felt like she was going to fall backwards but his hands immediately left her cheeks, flying to her waist to pull her against him even more. 

  “Steve-” She pulled her mouth back slightly, words muffled by his lips still, but the risk of biting either of their tongues lowered, but he shushed her, ready to let his lungs explode if that meant he could keep kissing her. “Steve-” She tried again with a giggle, hands coming up to his chest to hold him back slightly. Finally opening their eyes, Y/N was stunned for a moment as she saw Steve. His lip now swollen, the cut on his lip re-opened and bleeding slightly. His eyes (or the eye that wasn’t swollen shut) nearly blown out as if he were high. Regaining her thoughts, she cocked her head to the side, eyes softening from the heated pools they were seconds ago. “Do you need a place to stay tonight?” She asked, having only caught enough information about his home life to know his parents were barely around and when they were, they barely met the standards of parents, let alone supportive and kind parents.

  Suddenly, and if Steve wasn’t already sure, he knew he had finally found the place in the world he was looking for. He found the purpose of his life. He found the thing he would live and breathe. He found the thing he would even die for. “Actually, yeah.” He said almost sheepishly, realising his house key was on the set of keys the Russians took from him and his parents were away (shockingly). He felt scared, worried that she would think he came here and professed false feelings just so that he could have a place to sleep for the night. 

  His worries were eased with that soft smile slipping upon her swollen lips as she stepped back, Steve’s hands reluctantly letting go of her waist. “Come on in. I’ll even let you shower and sleep in my bed.” She winked, a giggle gracing the dimly lit entryway as she backed up, Steve following immediately - almost like she was luring him into a trance like state just with her beauty. In that moment, he knew he would never get enough of her and he will live everyday trying to give his everything to her.

[cherry-pop-elf]

What Kissing The Weasley Siblings Feels Like

Warnings: Fluff, Sensual, a little risky, no smut, graphic descriptions of lips and smoochies. 16+? Think that works

Writing Commissions Open

William ‘Bill’

Given half his face is missing he doesn’t really like giving kisses. It’s awkward, and strange. To only have half your mouth. How his lips are never able to be soft, or how there is so much teeth. Despite it, you would always kiss the corner of his mouth. He deserved to be kissed, and that is simply that. You find a way, and doing so warms his soul. One day, he finally gets brave enough to return a kiss. It’s awkward, it’s strange, but his intent is all that matters. He was horribly anxious, but followed through. Besides. A little tongue makes it more fun anyway. Whenever the full moon gets closer, you expect getting nothing but tongue and teeth anyway. What’s some more?

Charlie

Warm. They are always so warm, and chapped from the heat. He works with dragons all day, and you can always taste the ash on his breath. He’s a passionate man. He is so intense. Every kiss is like being swallowed whole by the embers of the very dragons he has tamed. He’s so passionate. A man that would lift you off your feet, and have you arched in his strong hands. As if he is trying to consume you, and lick your skin like an angry fire. He is a man that knows what he wants. What he wants is to make sure you know he loves you. He wants you so very bad

Percy

He’s always been quite the prim and proper type. His kisses tend to be quick, short, and almost sharp. Like a peck to the cheek. He has just always had trouble showing affection, but you knew that when you signed up with him. So it wasn’t like he manipulated you into thinking one thing over the other. Regardless, he does try. When his lips do find yours, they are nice. His lips are honestly softer than you expect. He always did take good care of himself after all. They never last to long, but you enjoy them while you can. He’s stepping out of his comfort zone, and you are proud of him for doing such. That’s what matters, after all. You’ll get more. You know you will.

Fred

He’s an intense fella. He likes to plaster you in little kisses, before becoming a living cartoon and dipping you into a passionate embrace. He loves to use kisses to fluster your soul, and be playful in soaking you in little ones. You swear every time you meet he makes sure to leave a kiss on you somewhere. His lips are warm, and a bit chapped. He works with fire works all day, kinda a given. Always the taste of ash on his tongue, but you are fine with it. You just adore how he’s always excited to give you kisses. Each other so alive. He’s just in love. What can he say?

George

Similar to his twin, but still his own person entirely. He’s a bit more emotional. He likes to let kiss be a bit gentler, and lets them last longer. He would trail soft kisses from your cheek, ghost your lips, and go to the next cheek. Then slap a long passionate one, right on your lips. He likes showing his emotions through his lips. Short kisses of excitement, long kisses of need, ghosting to tease. He loves to make use of his mouth, what can he say? He does more than talk your ear off about his latest invention. Mans knows how to work those lips to his advantage. In all the right places.

Ron

He’s an awkward guy. His kisses are either shy, or way too much mouth. You kinda have to teach him. As if either of you complain. He’s just a little dork. YOUR dork. Once he gets his footing, he’s enjoying himself. He still uses more mouth than lips, but you’ve grown to rather love it. How he’s just starving to have you. Even if you were gone just a few minutes. How he utterly craves your touch. It’s addictive. You’ve grown to adore those sloppy kisses he has to offer. They are HIS kisses after all. It makes him all the more special. He’s your dorky guy. All yours, and all his kisses belong to you. So hungry, and devouring.

Ginny

She’s a professional Quidditch player. Do not expect her lips not to be cracked, bloody, dry, what have you. Doesn’t mean her kisses are any less adored. She’s one for quick pecks, as she’s always running off somewhere to do something. You are in love with a Jock. A Weasley Jock no less. Regardless, she knows how to kiss. She knows that sometimes you deserve longer smooches. She does, however, enjoy cheek kisses. She loves giving cheek kisses. Platonic, romantic, she’s a cheek kisser. She will hug you tight, and plant multiple cheek kisses all over you, when she’s really excited. She’s the child of six older brothers. She’s a bit aggressive, but that’s what made you fall in love with her. Ain’t that right?

[liveontelevision]

Another Lucifer Rant | Lucifer x Reader

I'M BACK BABY

Give this man a dorky partner ffs.

Lucifer Rant (Pt. 1 kinda)

Warnings: SMUTSMUTSMUT +18, Fluff, Some mentions of overstimulation

○○○

Imagine Lucifer at his best. Sure, when you first get together, it's rocky. He needs someone to help him rediscover himself, and that takes a lot of time and energy from both of you. But after a few years, you start to see who he used to be; When he was an elder angel, daring to break the rules and pursue his dreams no matter what. It occasionally led to some destruction, but seeing him now able to recover from it so easily? It melts your heart. You were sure he wouldn't withstand the failure, but he can handle it. He can handle it because of you.

You praise him for branching out into other inventions and creations, but you'll always love his little ducks more than anything. That being said, you're not the only one seeing his creativity thrive. Hell managed to become a brighter place, with golden decorations and structures that were purely made for public enjoyment. Maybe Charlie's rubbing off on him, but he's finally taking charge of his realm and focusing on his subjects. Seeing Charlie at her best only fuels him more. She's living the life he wanted to when he was her age, and now, he had some catching up to do. He was determined.

PDAs:

With his confidence growing, he starts becoming more comfortable with PDAs. You never minded them, but it was nice to see him letting out his emotions in any way. He started off by holding your hand around others. Even though he would always become a blushing mess, even pulling away if he got too embarrassed by you smiling so geniunely at him, it was progress. It then became something he almost whined about when it wasn't happening. He wants you to hold his hand until it's uncomfortably sweaty and even after.

Lucifer would give small pecks to you as well, on your cheek when you walked in the room, your hair if you were sitting and he had access to the top of your head, and when he was in an especially good mood, a sweet peck on the lips before he'd leave.

Truly, the hardest part was saying I love you. In public and in private. What a strange phrase to get so flustered over when youve been with someone for years, and it did take years, but when he said it to you for the first time you damn near cried. After that, you would try to pepper it into conversations casually, in hopes his embarrassment or shame in the phrase would dissipate. Eventually, it did, and he grinned every time you'd say it, eager to return the phrase.

Now, you do your best to respect his boundaries, but one day it just slipped out of you, in front of a few residents and staff, one of them being Charlie. You didnt realize what you had done wrong, and honestly most of the others in the room didnt either, but once you saw Lucifer's overwhelmed expression it clicked that you may have messed up. You looked around to gauge the room and casually walked over to his shrinking form.

"I'm sorry, my love." You leaned in a bit to whisper to him," Do you need to step out? Should I say anything?" You did your best to stay calm, to be his anchor in this situation, but he cleared his throat and picked up his voice a little louder than your previously hushed tone. "L-Love you, too..! Sweetheart.." it was a small intimacy, but dear lord, were you proud of him. You could tell he struggled to do that, even if no one else paid attention to it. His eyes darted to Charlie, who was suddenly meeting his gaze from the other side of the room, and her eyes were absolutely wide and full to the brim with pride.

You had a few conversations with Charlie about everything. She didn't want too many details, just an update on how he's handling himself when she's not around. As he would get better with confiding his feelings to others, he would eventually talk to Charlie about issues and concerns, but for now, you were happy to relay the news to her.

He's her father, of course she wants nothing more than for him to be happy. It's not like she didn't see his struggle, so she couldn't help but feel pride for this little affection and any of his progress. She was quickly pulled away by Vaggie to avoid an outburst of happy tears in front of everyone, which Lucifer didn't mind. You gave him a quick peck on his forehead after looking around the room and took your seat next to him, continuing a conversation that you barely remember starting.

There were some situations where he would let you perform the PDAs. Sometimes, you would push his limits just to see how far he'd go. He wasn't super into movie nights, but Charlie really loved the idea of watching and discussing movies with wholesome values; an exercise to get people to know eachother amd have healthy debates on certain topics that definitely wouldn't turn into arguments. It happened about twice a month, good movies becoming harder to find in Hell.

You sat next to him close enough that your plush thigh was against his leg. He didn't seem to care too much, I mean, he loved it, but he didn't get too flustered. You would reach your arm around the back of the couch to simulate wrapping your arm around his shoulder, brushing your fingertips across the back of his shirt every now and then. The first time you did it, it took him by surprise, but after that, you could see the enjoyment of your touch.

You made sure to sit on the couch behind everyone else. Otherwise, he would feel the need to constantly look over his shoulders. You would try a few things, like placing your hand over his, then interlacing your fingers, then bringing it to your lips whenever the screen would go black and plunge the room in darkness. He seemed to handle it pretty well.

One night, you'd start off by leaning towards him and sitting on your legs, resting your head on his shoulder. He would respond by hesitantly placing his hand at your waist. You snuggled into him a bit more, making him redder in the face, but also giving him a subtle you're doing great.

If he did ever get too uncomfortable, he'd pull a blanket up and around both your shoulders, giving him a sense of security. On another night, you tried to pull him into you. It happened throughout the movie. You would pull him in by his waist, and he would scooch closer to you, then he would prop his arm up behind you and press his cheek against your shoulder. This was definitely a favorite position of his. Some tiring days, he would nod off. You made sure to wake him before anyone noticed.

Privacy:

After a while, he'd especially love touching you in private. When you would sit on his little couch and work on your own things in his office, he would take breaks and come over to lay his head in your lap. If he's lucky, you'd be reading or doing something where you only needed one hand, so your vacant fingers could be used to lightly comb through his hair.

He would take any chance to be above you, leaning down over the couch when you were sitting and giving you light kisses, or wrapping his arms around you while he stood on the elevated platform his workbench was set on.

With all the issues he had to overcome, you noticed he never really seemed too upset over his height. He was an angelic all-powerful beast, it's not like he was forced to look that way. I mean, you saw him shapeshift, he could easily add a few feet to his height. Actually, sometimes it seemed like he enjoyed the height difference. Whenever you would have to bend at the hips to give him a level kiss, he would make the goofiest grin. Or when you'd wear heels, he would constantly offer to fasten them on your feet and shower you with affection, then in public, he'd place his hand around your hips instead of linking your arms like usual.

Goofy Stuff:

His overly confident mask that he would use to intimidate others and laugh off serious situations was finally becoming more sincere. You loved seeing him that way, bringing smiles to everyone in the room when he spoke. When it was just the two of you, all his energy went into making you smile. And it always worked, he would make you giddy.

He loved to simply be around you. When you had to get ready for some kind of event, he would sit next to you at your vanity, simply watching you doll yourself up. He'd praise you, "you look so beautiful, darling~" then he'd tease you, "you know, i think that color would look much better on me." And you weren't one to back down, applying a thick layer of gloss to your lips and pulling him in to transfer as much as you could onto his lips. You pulled away, unphased, and went back to your makeup. "Hm! I agree! I'll let you wear it more often, then." He'd stammer out some sort of angry reply and cross his arms over his chest, having to admit defeat.

When you'd come home and would need to wash your face, you'd repeat your skin care routine on him. He didn't need it, but he loved to feel your hands touch and massage his face. In exchange, you'd force him to let you groom him (preening his wings, maybe cleaning up his eyesbrows, styling his hair in new ways, etc.) If you had the energy for it, that is. It was like clipping a cats nails. But the reaction and the outcome were so worth it.

You'd do his makeup on occasion, sometimes going far too dramatic for his taste just to watch him struggle to admit it wasn't his style without insulting you. You'd admit it was on purpose, and he'd tackle you playfully. Like before, you both ended up with the same lip color afterward.

You loved to get eachother flustered, sometimes youd pat him on the bottom when moving past him just to see him dramatically gasp." My love, we're in public! Right in front of Keekee??" He'd dramatically gesture to the cat who quite literally left the room while he was talking.

He'd blow into your ear when you were distracted, sending a chill down your spine. You'd knock your head into his on purpose, and he would swoon, crying out about being mistreated. Truly a theatric man.

Overall, he was finally bringing a geniune confidence to the table and you couldnt be prouder of him.

18+ Intimacy:

He was quick to discover he liked all the fluffy, cuddly stuff, but it took him years to rekindle any kind of sexual attraction to anyone. It was another big insecurity that he had, wondering if it was one of the reasons he drove Lillith off. It's not like he had anything to compare his work to, but he definitely didn't need to worry. Practice makes perfect. (And he was with Lillith for thousands of years.. so... plenty of time for practice.)

At first, you'd take the lead. You didn't mind. You loved taking care of him. After he'd suggest you two become more intimate, you'd still have to stop after some deep kisses and light grinding. Not that he would finish so soon, he just didn't have the stability to even imagine going through a night with your intimate gaze on him for so long. After a while, you'd start sitting on his lap, constantly reassuring him and giving him praises for doing so good. "If you need to stop, let me know, my love. Tap me -" you would lead his hand to the top of your thigh, " - if you can't find the words, okay?" He would let out a nervous chuckle, subconsiously giving your thigh a soft squeeze at the motion before nodding his head.

You had to talk him through everything, and dear lord, did he love hearing your voice. As ironic as it is, he would melt at any praise you gave him." You're doing so good, sweetheart," "You like that, love? You look so beautiful right now~", "Mmm, keep that up, you're doing so well." No matter how much you tried to keep your voice calm and sultry, he really enjoyed and almost preferred your hitched breath and sweet words directly by his ear. The phrase that got him going more than anything? "I love you, Lucifer." The combination of those words and hearing his name slip from your lips almost always made him whimper quietly.

When you first heard him whimpering, you would subtly check on him, making sure he was doing okay without embarrassing him and calling it out. Oh, he was doing okay. More than okay.

You would usually proposition him, but sometimes, he would blatantly ask you if you two could be intimate. It was always so cute when he did that. But one day, he asked shyly for you to sit, then he hesitantly sat on your lap. Your rosie cheeks grew even redder, and you placed your cool hands on your face to try and calm yourself. It took you a second to finally look up at him, his expression even more embarrassed than yours. You hated to admit that it made you feel better, but it really did. You took your hands and placed them on his cheeks, which were much hotter than yours. He rubbed his face into your palm, his hand holding your wrist to keep your touch close.

After a moment, he'd lean down to kiss you, it was just bliss. The rare view he had, looking down to meet your eyes, left him happy to give in to his more intimate desires. After being seated on your lap for so long, and finally adjusting to the unconscious grinding that would go on, he'd start to reach for the edge of his pants without much thought. Once he had pulled out his shaft, your eyes would quickly widen and break away from the kiss to assess the situation. Before you could, he lifted your head back to look into his eyes, suddenly glowing red. "P-Please, can I.. i don't know if im ready for, b-but- I need - " his eyes were a threatening color, but you noted that he was still struggling with this decision. He still needed some time before letting you touch him that way.

You pulled him in for another kiss, "I won't look or touch, okay? That's what you want?" You clarified, running your hands through his hair. He nodded shyly, his hand still holding onto himself. You smiled and reconnected your lips. "Okay, love. I don't mind at all - " you reassured him, taking his free hand and kissing his palm. Looking up at him through his fingers, you grinned into his hand, grazing your teeth down his wrist." I would be honored, actually." You say bravely, the situation giving your boldness a boost. He would let out a nervous laugh that seemed almost too loud, then follow it by sucking in his lips to not embarrass himself anymore than he already has.

Keeping up with his speed, you did only what he was comfortable with. Doing only what he wanted from you. It made you almost arrogant to feel him stroke himself and whimper into your lips, getting off just from your kisses alone. You would break away only to leave some soft kisses on his neck. You attempted to leave a hickey or two below his jawline, but he quickly tapped your thigh, wordlessly telling you that was too much. "Good boy~" you'd breathe against his neck, seeing his chest heave at the words. You moved down to his collarbone and chest, slowly beginning to suck in and bite his porcelain skin there. He let out a muffled agreement and nodded his head, more accepting of somewhere that would be easier to cover. You left almost too many bruises on him after that. To be fair, any blossoming mark was exentuated against his sensitive, white skin.

It didn't take too long for him to finish after that. He let out a gasp, then a muffled moan as you felt some of his fluids leak onto your stomach. He didn't even let himself get over his high before pulling a tissue out of thin air and cleaning you up. You let your head lean back, looking towards the cieling as he situated himself, keeping your promise to not look until he's ready. "O-oooh dear.. That was... Gross, right? Sorry.." You quickly look at him and scoffed, holding onto his face and pulling it close. "Don't say that, Lucifer..! Thank you for trusting me with this..." You brushed your thumb across his cheek, his expression still disheartened." I wouldn't have let that happen if I didn't want it, you know that. Besides, if you're really concerned, i'll just have to join you next time." You teased a sly smirk across your face. His eye twitched, and you could feel the heat in his face return." Good lord, I don't deserve you." He squeaked out before standing up and almost tripping over himself, complaining about his stiff legs right away.

Side note: I feel like when he would complain about being sore at all, you'd joke at him and say things like, "Oh, don't be a baby." And he'd reply with a joke, "Woah there, save the dirty talk for the bedroom." And that's what triggers you to start calling him baby any chance you could get, especially in the bedroom.

Going all the way was a big step. He was more comfortable starting on top of you,  but just like before, he realized how much he preferred, loved, to have you ride him. You made sure he had the tapping system in effect, but he would constantly check on him the first time he asked to try it this way. You were almost ashamed to admit you got a bit carried away. With you almost hitting your high, you probably took on more than he could handle. You didn't realize until you looked down at his face. His eyes were shut tight, a tear or two rolling down his heated face, and his lips were parted and letting out pathetic little noises. A face that some might see as a demon drunk on sex, but you knew you had taken him a little too hard. You slowed down, his breath finally becoming lighter." I-I'm sorry.. I-I -" his voice was raspy as his began apolgizing." No - don't be. I'll be gentle." You finally started back up, a slow grind, after letting him catch his breath. "Remember to use your words, baby - " You took his hand and planted it on your thigh as another reminder to communicate his thoughts. He nodded, a slight hitch in his breath as you spoke. You went on to cherish a more intimate night with him.

That's how it started, but as time went on, your playful relationship came to the bedroom. Lucifer would be in the middle of grinding his hips into yours, attempting to say something flirtatious in your ear when his voice would crack, or he'd say something that didn't come out right. You'd cover your mouth in an attempt to not laugh." Oh, cmon! I'm trying to be sexy here." He'd waggle his eyebrows at you and youd bring him into a smiling kiss. "Well, i'd say you're doing a great job, babe." You spoke so sincerely afterward that he'd become a little flustered. "O-Oh.. you.. think so..?" You hummed against his ear,

"Nope~"

He'd let out an aggravated groan and start to get off of your lap." No-no! I'm sorry, i'm kidding! You're sexy, come back!" You'd laugh out, reaching for his hips and planting him back onto your lap." Damn right, I am." He'd grumble, smashing his lips against yours in a suddenly intense kiss. In all honesty, probably to shut you up.

---

You love him so dearly. You barely realize how much he loves you, maybe due to how badly he struggles with his words. As time goes on, all Lucifer wants is to give himself to you. Give every little bit of his love to the one who's spent so much time caring for him and helping him become a better person. He'd sometimes consider that he could never be able to return the favor.

But he would. You knew he could.

○○○

I'll still take requests for some Luci prompts if anyone's thirstin'

Also, I have over 100 followers?? Which i wasn't expecting to happen when I first made this account (literally made it just to look at Hazbin smut if i'm outing myself) So thanks for all the support! This is such a great community 🥹

[konigsblog]

Okay but König’s mom being such a factor in making you stay in the relationship because you two end up being best friends and you become the daughter she never had. You’re staying for her, not him because you could never have the heart to tell her because it’ll break her heart to see you leave.

cw: non-con/dub-con, manipulation&coercion, afab!gn!reader.

loser-könig absolutely adores his mother, especially with what she's doing. she's not doing it on purpose, but for poor you, you don't have an escape out of this relationship... könig's dorkiness keeps you here with him regardless - although, he can become incredibly aggressive and hurtful when he doesn't get what he wants.

due to a lack of communication skills, he was never told ‘no’ as a kid. mostly because his mother had no reason to, and whenever he did something that would usually result in being punished, his mother was too exhausted after hours of work to discipline him.

so, when you explain to könig that you're too tired, or perhaps you're uncomfortable and on your period - or maybe you're just not in the mood - könig goes ballistic. he's used to getting what he wants, so he wouldn't hesitate to pin you down and take whatever he pleases.

the slickness of your sopping wet cunt was arousing for könig, whose body intimidated you, looming over you with threatening eyes, causing you to become silent and nervous. he'd fuck you with an agonising pace; slamming his sturdy hips against you while you howled out in pain, taking each inch of his hard, veiny cock whilst he grinned greedily. ;(

such a mess, he believes you deserve to be punished. when he's denied a blowjob, he uses manipulation and coercion as a technique instead, watching you unfasten his belt and lower yourself onto your knees like you should, sucking him off with your fingers wrapped tightly around his base.

[quin-ns]

Fake Blood (Ethan Landry x Reader)

Word count: 5.6K

Summary: spoiler: the blood isn’t fake. alone in your apartment after your friends had been attacked, you ask ethan to stop by. he does in an unexpected way and you get more than you bargained for

Tags: (18+), friends to lovers, minor violence, knife tw, flirting, making out, virgin!ethan, virgin!reader, fingering, unprotected p in v sex, the ghostface robe stays on during sex, denial ab ethan being a murderer :) (if bad why hot?)

A/N: just watched scream 6 for the first time only a few days ago and couldn’t get this psycho out of my brain (tiktok edits didn’t help lol). timeline might be a little wonky but tbh it’s not relevant. also this follows the theory that ethan did the big apartment attack. I really wasn’t expecting this to be this long but it’s worth it yall I promise

cross-posted to ao3 • scream masterlist • main masterlist

As much as you liked Mindy, if you knew becoming friends with her would lead to you being integrated into her friend group of past and present serial killer victims, you might’ve thought about asking someone else to partner up with you for a presentation in your film studies class.

When you’d asked her, it was mostly to avoid having to accept an offer from a guy named Jason, who had always stared at you during that class and brought up the ‘Stab’ movies whenever he could (this was before you knew your friends knew him, but you still got a weird vibe from the guy).

She’d been excited to hang out with you after you two gave your presentation, and that’s how you wound up spending most days with her and her tight knit group of friends.

You were probably closest with Mindy, but you liked her brother too. For a guy named Chad, he was actually pretty chill. You got along with Tara as well, who was in a bit of a rebellious phase after being attacked and nearly killed, which you only learned about once they trusted you enough. Her older sister Sam was mostly cool too, but a bit overprotective. There was a gloomy aspect to her, but you supposed it made sense given that she was betrayed by her murderous boyfriend and now the internet peddled theories that blamed her for a series of killings in their home town of Woodsboro.

They had a tight bond, and even though you grew close with each of them, you knew you’d be an outsider. Like Tara and Sam’s roommate Quinn, Mindy’s girlfriend Anika, and Chad’s roommate Ethan. You all had shared multiple conversations about their trust issues. It must’ve been hard to even start to trust people after all that.

Out of all of the other “newcomers” as Mindy once put it, you got along with Ethan the best. He was a little quiet and sorta dorky (which your friends would tease him about a little—all friendly, of course) but he was fun to talk to. You guys liked a lot of the same stuff, including horror movies, and it didn’t hurt that he was cute.

In your opinion, with his curly dark hair and eyes to compliment, the whole “shy guy” thing was part of the appeal.

You wondered if he’d ever make a move, or if he even knew you were curious about him in that way. You wouldn’t go so far to say it was a crush for your ego’s sake, but you wouldn’t send him running off with his tail between his legs like you did with most guys.

Like that guy Jason from film class, who, just before Halloween, was killed alongside his roommate by a masked killer.

“Didn’t he have a thing for you?” Mindy asked you as you were all gathered around the TV, finding out the news together.

You were sitting crammed in a chair next to Ethan since the others had all taken up the couch space. He didn’t seem to mind, but it did unfortunately make it easy for them all to look your way and stare. You didn’t like the attention.

You were in shock at the news, especially when the anchor revealed Jason had also killed your film professor. Ethan pointed that out, saying if the guy was crazy enough to do that he might’ve even gone after you.

“Maybe the killer who killed him did you a favor,” Quinn suggested in response to Ethan.

The thought terrified you. You looked around the group. “Do you guys think he really would’ve hurt me? He seemed weird, not psycho.”

“We talked not that long ago, nothing seemed off,” Tara revealed with a grim look. “He asked if you and Sam were gonna come to the party.”

You hadn’t planned on going—what the hell would’ve happened if you had?

You exchanged a look with Sam, who seemed to have the wheels in her head turning.

You zoned back into the news as the reporter explained the mask found was a ghostface mask—like from the Stab movies. And of course, the actual Woodsboro killings.

“Pack a bag,” Sam told her sister, springing up to move around the apartment building.

Sam and Tara argued, which was a little weird to witness. You tried to sink back into the chair, while Ethan looked at you like he wanted to say something.

Hopefully it wasn’t “get out of the chair” because you didn’t think you could move.

The night ended with you going back to your little apartment alone. Your roommate was out of town and so your anxiety was on high alert.

A lot had happened that night apparently, including Sam and Tara getting attacked in a convenience store and them being questioned by the cops.

As much as you cared about them, you feared what would happen if you were with them.

That’s why the next night when you were invited over, you had been hesitant. A government paper was the perfect excuse, but you had FaceTimed with them so you all could keep an eye on each other.

You sat at your little desk, your laptop opened to work on your paper, and your phone propped up on your cup so you could talk to them hands free.

Apparently everyone was together at the apartment except Ethan, who told you he was studying in the library when you texted to ask him. You responded that you were working on a paper and that if he wanted to come over to keep you company, he could.

You’d spent some time alone with him, but not a lot when you really thought about it. It was always in the group—who were all murder suspects, according to Mindy’s movie rules.

You knew you weren’t the killer, and you had absolutely no motive. The others were still suspicious of you so that hurt a little (maybe that was another reason why you were keeping to yourself), but you did your best to understand that they weren’t just suspicious of you.

Everyone was a suspect, and no one was safe.

You felt even less safe when Mindy said she’d call you back. You didn’t know why she had to hang up so urgently, but you had a feeling it had to do with the emotional conversation Tara and Sam had been having in the background. You couldn’t make out most of it clear so you avoided mentioning it.

You sighed and checked your chat with Ethan. He hasn’t responded to your text. You were getting nervous now that you weren’t video chatting with your other friends anymore and the thought of being home alone didn’t bring you much ease.

You thought about just going over to the Carpenter’s (and Quinn’s) apartment, not wanting to bother Ethan further. Maybe he was ignoring you on purpose.

However, it was a far walk there. You didn’t feel safe making it alone at night—especially with a killer on the loose, likely targeting your friends. If you had a car, maybe, but you were a broke college student who could barely afford a place to live.

You sucked it up and double texted Ethan, this time asking if he could come over and that you were worried.

When he didn’t respond right away, you gave it a few minutes.

A little while longer passed and since you now couldn’t focus on your paper, you tried to call Mindy back. Then Tara. Then Chad. Then Sam. Then Quinn. Then Anika.

Not a single one of them answered.

You took a deep breath. Then, you went to double check that your door was locked.

You tried to call Ethan, but his phone went immediately to voicemail. It must’ve been dead or powered off.

That left no one else to call, and you felt more alone than ever.

You sat down at your desk and tried to focus.

You ended up going to your bedroom, putting on sleep clothes, and watching a comfort show under all your blankets instead, paper completely forgotten.

Your phone dinged from your bedside table and when you looked at it, you saw a message from Ethan. Only a few hours late, but he said he was on his way up.

That was sudden. You tried to not overthink being alone with Ethan too much.

A few moments later, there was a knock at your front door.

You climbed out of bed, not really caring that you were wearing sleep shorts and a baggy shirt. Your friends had seen you go to class in about the same when you had all night study sessions.

When you got to the door, you got a little nervous. But you knew it had to be Ethan, so you tried to push the anxiety aside and unlocked then opened the door.

You were met with shock and horror.

Towering over you in your doorway stood a figure in a black robe… and a ghostface mask.

You tried to slam the door, but the person caught it. You choked on a scream when they shoved their way in, holding a knife. There was a small stain of red on the metal blade and a darker, bigger mass on the robe.

Blood. Blood was red.

You scrambled back and tried to think of where to go. None of the doors in your apartment locked, not even the bathroom door.

Your heart and mind raced and suddenly you were spewing words.

“I don’t know what to say to make you not kill me, but I please don’t,” you rushed out.

The person—the killer—moved closer to you after shutting and locking your front door.

You ran, but there was really nowhere to go. The killer ran too. You tried to lure them to the bathroom and shove them in, but they dodged and had you almost within their grasp.

They didn’t slash the knife, though.

You ran for the front door, but the killer grabbed you by the arm. You were shoved back against your hallway wall and pinned. Your back slammed against the wall, but not hard. They held the knife to your throat—not too close, but it was still there and still kept you frozen.

“Are you gonna kill me?”

The words came out before you could stop them. You internally scolded yourself. That’s the kinda shit the girls who got murdered asked.

There was a laugh, and then a familiar voice.

“I’d never do that.”

By the time the killer reached for the mask and pulled it off, you still hadn’t processed your shock.

“Ethan?” you gawked up at him while he gave you a cheeky smile. He let the mask drop and the hand holding the knife fell to his side.

“You should’ve seen your face,” he said through a smile, excited eyes scanning your face for realization.

“Is this… is this a fucking prank?” you questioned, finally comprehending. “Ethan, what the fuck!?” You shoved him back by his shoulder, admittedly a little pissed. “You’re covered in blood!”

He stayed standing in front of you.

“It’s fake, I promise. It was just a joke,” he reasoned, looking a little guilty. “Y’know, cause Halloween and… alright, maybe my timing isn’t great.”

You scoffed out a laugh at that. “It’s terrible timing. There really is someone after us.”

“You’re right, I’m sorry,” Ethan apologized with a small, apologetic smile. You stared at him, still surprised. He looked so innocent for someone that could pull off, let alone come up with, such a messed up prank.

“Is this where you’ve been? Dressing up to mess with me while there really is a killer after us?” You questioned, raising your brows and crossing your arms.

“Y’know, if there really is a killer after us, we probably shouldn’t let each other die virgins,” Ethan stated in a flirtatious way he easily could’ve played off as a joke. Maybe it was entirely a joke, but you played along in a different direction.

You scoffed. “And you’re just assuming I’m a virgin?”

He shrugged, the long fabric of his costume rustling. “I see how you are with guys. They want you, you never want them.”

“So what, I’m a tease?” you guessed, used to hearing that but a little disappointed to think it would come from him.

“No,” he clarified quickly. “But they’re just never good enough for you and you know that. Like that jerk Jason.”

You cringed a little at the mention of him, and then felt bad about that. The guy had been murdered, after all.

“Don’t say that, he’s dead.”

“So what?” Ethan asked plainly, surprising you a little. “He was a killer too. He could’ve gone after you, you should be grateful to whoever did it.”

You furrowed your brows. He was starting to sound like someone else. “Grateful?”

“It’s okay, you’re allowed to be.” Ethan’s expression as he spoke was one of reassurance. “You could’ve been next, you never know. He was one of those guys who couldn’t take a hint that he was beneath you.”

You had no idea he thought that way about you—that there were men he deemed unworthy. It was enough to distract you from the shift in his demeanor.

“And what? You’re saying you’re one of the guys who’s good enough for me?” you couldn’t help but wonder. You never thought about your dating history (or lack of) like that.

“Hell no,” he said, surprising you yet again. You were expecting a ‘yes’ with the way he was coming onto you all of the sudden, but what he said carried even more of a self-depreciating brand of charm. “But I’m hoping maybe you’ll pity the loser who’s had a hopeless crush on you for a while now and give him a chance.”

“You’re not a loser,” you said before you registered the rest of his words. When you did, you were taken aback at the confession. “But you’re not usually this… bold, Ethan.”

You wanted to ask him if something was wrong, but there was a lot wrong these past few hours.

“What can I say? I’ve been feeling more confident recently.”

You hummed, understanding that in a way.

“Maybe it’s the whole ‘we could die any second’ thing,” you ventured a guess.

He smiled to himself, like you’d just referenced an inside joke you weren’t a part of.

“Could be,” he agreed. He laughed a little and looked down at himself, then met your eyes again. “Sorry about scaring you. It was in poor taste. We both like horror movies… I don’t know, it was stupid.”

You scoffed, but you weren’t really mad anymore.

“I like horror movies, I don’t want to be in one,” you told him, eyeing the knife he held loosely in his right hand. “Is the knife real?”

“What?” Ethan asked, feigning confusion. He lifted the knife and examined it. “This knife?”

“Yeah, that knife,” you parroted back his playful tone. “You said the blood is fake, but is the knife real?”

A devious look crossed Ethan’s face. He held it to your throat slowly, holding it horizontally. You didn’t flinch, much to his pleasure. He seemed almost impressed.

“Gotta be authentic, right?” he mused, eyes flicking to your parted lips as you breathed steadily. “Can I kiss you?”

When his curious eyes looked back at yours, you couldn’t help but notice he still held the knife. The rush of excitement you felt scared you more than the fear of him letting it slip forward.

“What’s the knife for?” you asked with a surge of confidence, taunting him a little. “If I say no?”

Ethan laughed at that. He pulled it back and let it drop to the floor. It clattered against the wood, and you let out a breath you hadn’t realized you’d been holding. But it wasn’t from fear—it was from anticipation. Maybe your curiosity was a little more than that after all.

“You’re safe with me,” he assured. “Promise.”

His words felt layered, but in a way you couldn’t define.

Perhaps it was his way of saying he’d protect you. Maybe it was strange, especially given his entrance, but you found yourself feeling exactly that with Ethan. Safe.

Nothing was going to hurt you, certainly not him.

“About that kiss…” you started, giving him the indication that he was looking for.

Ethan took the hint and ran with it, lips crashing into yours in the blink of an eye.

His lips were soft, but the kiss was needy and hungry. You tried to move your lips in sync with his, but he was much more dominant.

A joke that you’d never say flashed by about him practicing.

It was easy not to laugh when Ethan’s hand threaded into your hair and his tongue began to explore your mouth.

The leather glove felt strange. It made you pull back a little, which you almost couldn’t do with the way Ethan eagerly chased your swollen lips with his own.

You glanced over his costume again. It looked really legit—when did he have time to get it? Was he actually gonna wear this for Halloween? You swore you remembered him and Chad talking about some other costume he made out of cardboard for the frat party.

Before you could spiral down that path, Ethan pulled the leather gloves off quickly and cast them aside. It was like he could read your mind. Both hands went to your face, pulling you to meet him halfway in another searing kiss.

You didn’t know what was coming over you, but whatever it was was causing arousal to stir in your belly.

You figured out the answer to that pretty quickly.

It was want. You wanted Ethan.

“Is the other offer still on the table?” you uttered softly when you and Ethan had to part for air.

He grinned, unable to contain it.

“Thought there was no way in hell that would work,” Ethan admitted a little breathlessly. “Thought I never stood a chance with you, but I liked you anyway.”

Ethan had a boyish charm about him usually, but now that was combined with a streak of deviance that you finally now noticed.

You weren’t expecting to be as intrigued by it as you were.

“Give yourself a little more credit,” you told Ethan, raising your hand to cup his cheek. He leaned into your touch a little. One hand rested on your shoulder and the other fell to hold your hip, tucking under your baggy shirt and rubbing your skin beneath. “You are pretty cute.”

Ethan’s smile only grew, but when you leaned in to kiss him again his lips met yours.

He wrapped his arms around your waist and guided the two of you to the ground with your back leaning against the wall. He was in front of you, on his knees, with you in his lap.

You ran a hand through his curly hair and you guided his lips back to yours. From what he’d revealed, Ethan hadn’t had a lot of experience with girls. It was a damn shame, because the boy was a great kisser.

His hand caressed your thigh as he trailed upward. You gave him a soft sound of encouragement when his fingers found their way to the waistband of your shorts.

“Is this okay?” Ethan asked, which made you want to grab him and kiss him again.

“Yeah.”

His hand slid into your shorts and your underwear.

One finger—you guessed middle—pushed inside of you. A small gasp escaped you at the intrusion and he watched your face.

Ethan was making sure the sound wasn’t of pain, which it wasn’t, and you appreciated that.

He withdrew the digit, then pushed in again. He repeated the motion a few more times before adding his index finger.

Ethan’s breathing grew heavy as he felt you squeeze around his fingers. He thrust and curled them inside you with rhythm. He managed to find one pretty quickly. That plus his thumb rubbing at your clit, you were falling apart in mere minutes.

Your brief orgasm rocked your whole body, leaving you clenching his fingers and quivering.

Ethan muttered things to you, but you could hardly hear over the sound of your own heart pounding in your ears.

Your head rested back against the wall as you caught your breath, still trembling from the aftershocks. Ethan withdrew his hand from between your legs and out of your shorts.

Your eyelids felt heavy, but in between slow blinks you saw him lift his fingers to his lips. You watched breathlessly as he placed them into his mouth and moaned at the taste of you.

No words would come out of your mouth, but he took rendering you speechless as a compliment.

“I’ve thought about that,” Ethan started, voice a little ragged. He was watching you, but his hand had moved off to the side. “What you’d look like… what you’d sound like… what you’d taste like.” The awe in his eyes as he spoke left you swooning.

“And?” you managed, sitting up a little straighter.

With the change in your angle, you could feel the bulge in his pants, even though the added layer of the costume he had yet to remove.

“You’re better than I ever imagined,” Ethan finished.

A scrape against the floor alarmed you. You looked to the sound and saw Ethan grabbing the knife off of the floor.

You watched as he brought it between your bodies. He first tucked it through the leg of your shorts, the cold metal sliding against your skin as it caught under your underwear as well. Then, he pointed the sharp side facing out. Finally, he sliced up through the fabric. You gasped a little as the cold air of the room hit your newly exposed skin. He did the same with the other leg, then pulled the tattered material away from your body.

You did the honors of pulling off your shirt. You didn’t have a bra underneath and you almost laughed at the way Ethan gawked at your fully naked body when you cast it aside.

“Your turn,” you told him. You were completely undressed, while he still wore the long, black disguise.

“Actually,” Ethan said a little eerily. There was something in his eyes you couldn’t quite pinpoint. “I was thinking I could leave it on?”

It was a question, there was room for you to say no. Maybe you should’ve, it was a little weird. But you weren’t really thinking about that. You were more focused on how badly you wanted Ethan to fuck you, and that clouded your brain.

“As long as you don’t put the mask back on,” you relented in a joking tone.

“You’re so fucking cool,” Ethan rushed out before slamming his lips into yours. The knife was cast aside again—you didn’t see it happen, but both of his hands were on your face.

You laughed a little against his lips, dazed and drunk on arousal. You didn’t really care about the logistics of it.

His hands moved down, but you were distracted by his lips dominating yours.

You heard the sound of his zipper being undone and he moved a little—you guessed shoving his pants down his thighs.

There was no time to look down because in a rush, Ethan was pinning you back against the wall with his body. One hand gripped your waist, holding you in place for him. The other was presumably guiding his cock to your entrance.

You gasped a little against his lips when he started to press forward while simultaneously pulling you down into his lap. The fabric of the costume draped over your thighs, blocking your view.

The stretch of his cock pushing into you was more intense than you could’ve predicted, but your whole body trembled with pleasure at the feel.

Finally, he either got too excited or lost his patience, and guided you down the rest of the way until he was fully sheathed inside of you.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” Ethan cursed to himself, body straining to keep from moving. His head dropped to your shoulder, heavy breaths hitting your neck. He leaned against you, forcing you against the wall.

His cock twitched inside of you and his body tensed, trying to hold back.

You panted slightly, trying to get your breath back. You ran a hand up his back and you felt him shiver. Your hand moved up the back of his neck and into his mess of curls.

You always liked Ethan’s hair.

You gave a small, barely qualifiable tug, but it had an effect. His body jerked, causing him to move inside of you. You gasped a little, but the motion felt good.

He lifted his head to look at you. His face was a little flushed and the lust blown look in his eyes made you quiver.

“You can move,” you whispered out, not trusting your voice.

Ethan didn’t need to be told twice. He secured the arm around your waist a little tighter and he put the other hand on the wall, giving himself leverage.

The slow drag of him moving out of you made you gasp for breath. The thrust back in knocked the air out of your lungs.

He set a quick pace after that, hips slamming eagerly into yours as the pleasure and excitement overwhelmed him.

It felt good, really fucking good.

Neither of you knew exactly what you were doing, but you were sure you’d figured it out because your whole body tingled with pleasure.

You cried out his name, which only spurred him on.

In a jarring movement you could hardly track, Ethan dragged you from the wall to the floor. He put himself on top of you, never once withdrawing from inside of you.

He watched your face as he pounded into you. Ethan had more leverage this way, able to grip your hip in one hand while the other held the top half of him off of you by being planted on the floor near your head.

You wrapped your legs around his waist, which you couldn’t see because the bottom half of your body was covered by the black costume. You hardly paid any attention to that aspect. You didn’t care that he wore it, not when you were this caught up in pleasure.

(In hindsight, you should’ve).

“I’ve wanted you for so long,” Ethan breathed out, hips starting the stutter with every thrust.

The knot in your belly started to tighten as he buried himself into you over and over.

You couldn’t speak, your breathing was so labored as you reached to cling to him.

His head dropped down to your shoulder as he allowed more of his body weight to fall onto you. You found yourself enjoying the feel of him truly being on top of you.

You hardly noticed the fake blood smearing onto your bare skin. When you did, you were too gone to care.

You bucked your hips, meeting his stuttering thrusts. He was getting close to his edge and so were you. You moaned beneath him as his forceful thrusts sparked pleasure through your entire body.

“I’m close,” you managed to moan out against his ear.

“Oh, fuck,” Ethan groaned out, cock pulsing inside of you at the thought. He lifted his head enough to be able to watch your face. “Come again for me, please,” he panted out, nearly falling over the edge at the mere anticipation.

The begging was hot, and your body was already ready to give him what he wanted.

You noticed his eyes flicking down your body, seeing the red stains on your skin. That was quickly forgotten by you when your whole body began to tense and quiver. You held onto him tight as waves of ecstasy crashed over you.

You didn’t see his eyes linger.

Ethan couldn’t hold it together, not with the way your body tightened around him as your orgasm rocked you.

He collapsed on top of you, holding you against him as his forehead pressed to yours. His eyes were clenched shut as he frantically shoved his hips against yours, burying himself deep. His cock twitched, his whole body shivering as he spilled himself inside of you with a moan.

The sound of him alone was enough to prolong your pleasure as you rode it out, but the extra movement and the feeling of him filling you was an added bonus.

He kissed you hard on the lips, effectively pulling the air from your lungs.

After a moment, he found the strength to roll off of you, only to then drag you to his side.

“I can die a happy man, now,” he joked morbidly.

You shoved him a little by the shoulder like you had before, but not enough to actually make him go anywhere.

“Don’t say shit like that,” you argued weakly.

He flashed you a brief grin. “I meant it as a compliment.”

You rolled your eyes and did you best to laugh it off.

You lost track of how long it took you to move from the floor to your couch. The same thing happened between the time it took for you to get from the couch to your shower.

It was a tiny shower that couldn’t fit two people, so you rinsed off as quick as you could. You were tired, and your legs felt weak, and you knew you’d be sore in a way that would make it hard to keep calm tomorrow.

Whatever he had used for the blood, at least it washed off fast. You were able to finish up in a matter of minutes.

You threw on new pajamas and crawled into your bed, managing to tell Ethan to take however long he wanted and that he could stay over if he wanted.

You found yourself hoping he would.

You were nearly asleep when the shower shut off and Ethan finally joined you in bed. He was only in his boxers and a black t-shirt, which he must’ve been wearing under the costume robe.

A thought nagged at the back of your mind about the costume, wondering why he’d gone through all of that just to mess with you for a minute—albeit a terrifying minute. It didn’t seem like him, but then you remembered you’d only met him a few months ago.

You were so exhausted you fell asleep in his arms, not awake enough to care about all of the weird details. In fact, the only thing you could think about was how much you liked falling asleep with Ethan’s arms around you.

In the morning, you found out your friends had all been attacked.

You showed up with Ethan after the feed on your college’s chat app blew up with images of cops swarming and ambulances outside of Sam, Tara, and Quinn’s apartment.

Mindy seemed relieved to see you, but not so much when she realized Ethan was with you. Maybe she’d cleared you as a suspect in her head.

She yelled at him to stay back, accusing him of being the killer. Nobody was taking Quinn’s death well, but Mindy was especially heartbroken over Anika.

“Stay back!” Mindy yelled at Ethan, who did as she commanded.

Everyone turned on him then, even Chad. Everyone except you. They demanded his alibi.

“How do I know you’re not the killer, roomie,” Chad spit at him, amped up.

“I was with Y/N last night,” Ethan defended, holding his hands up in a small show of innocence, before you could say a word. “We were… preoccupied, alright?”

You wanted to elbow him for how he worded it, he couldn’t have been more obvious if he tried. It might’ve been on purpose, you weren’t sure.

He wasn’t close enough to do that, though, and now all eyes were on you.

“Yeah, he was with me,” you backed Ethan up.

You weren’t going to leave him hanging because it was the truth, but you knew what that implied, and so did your friends. They all shared subtle—but not unnoticeable—looks. Your face felt warm, while Ethan bit back a prideful smile.

“So you guys, um…”

“Chad, stop,” Tara scolded him before he could point out the obvious.

“Point is, we had nothing to do with this,” Ethan stated.

We?

They were suspicious of him, and now he was lumping the two of you together. There were always two killers in the movies—you began to doubt if the alibi would ease their anxiety or only spike it.

You thought back to when he had showed up to your apartment in that costume. He’d scared you, but you accepted it when he told you it was a joke that he mistakenly took too far.

It made you wonder. What if it was him?

If he wanted to hurt you, he easily could’ve. That didn’t seem to be his intention. What was? Seeing how much he could scare you? Get your heart rate up? Seeing if you wouldn’t believe him?

Or was it seeing if he could put the evidence right in front of you and have you ignore it because of a crush?

Fuck. Maybe it was some weird combination of all. Were you that gullible? Or were you overthinking it now?

Your brain struggled to come up with a conclusion.

You wanted to believe Ethan was innocent. You really, really did.

It was easier than believing you had slept with a killer. Or potentially worse, that you had feelings for one.

Ethan gave you a slight, assuring smile.

Your head told you one thing, but your heart told you another.

Maybe you shouldn’t have, but you kept your mouth shut and gave him one back.

[autisticlancemcclain]

My Dearest La

Dear La

Lance,

I really hate it when you’re right.

I know you are smiling as you read this. I can see it so clearly in my head. You are rolling your eyes now, probably, in fact you are probably even straining yourself. But I bet you are still smiling.

…

I miss you.

You told me leaving was stupid. Well, we screamed about it. I don’t like that I left angry. I should have waited so we could have been — well, I don’t know. I just don’t like that I left without saying goodbye properly. I don’t like that I didn’t get to kiss the smush between your eyebrows that you get when you’re mad

The bottom line is that I’m sorry. And I can’t do anything about it now because what’s done is done but. I wish I did. I’m sorry this message is so dorky. I can’t help how I feel about you. I promise I’ll be more — suave, or whatever, in my next one. There’s this Blade I hang out with sometimes, Sedrit, she is awkwardly funny like you. She has promised to give me some pointers because she’s as nosy as you are and read over my shoulder all the other times I tried to write this letter. I don’t trust her judgement but I’d walk into a wall on purpose in front of Pidge’s cameras if I could guarantee it’d make you laugh I think we could always use a smile. I’m ending this letter now because I’m embarrassed and if I write one more line I’ll lose my nerve.

Love,

Warm regards,

Sincerely,

Love,

Keith

———

“Sir? Sir! Hold on! Sir!”

The Balmeran turns, looking back at him curiously. He leans heavily on his cane, back hunched but chin set squarely.

“Yes, Blade?”

Keith jogs all the way over to him, stopping a respectful distance away. He reaches up to deactivate his mask, which he is not supposed to do, but the mask is fucking creepy, okay, it makes people uneasy so clearly that even Keith can see it, so fuck Kolivan’s lectures. He’s vindicated by the visible relaxing of the Balmeran’s shoulders.

“I need — a favour,” Keith says haltingly. His own shoulders begin to hunch. “If you don’t mind.”

The Balmeran’s stiff brows lift in surprise. He looks deliberately down at his newly-bandaged leg, then back up at Keith. Keith flushes.

“A… favour.”

All the pockets on Keith’s uniform are square-shaped and small. Deep, but not very long. Anything he puts in there gets squished. Except for the long, thin pocket-thing hidden against the outside of his thigh.

The letter has been stuffed carefully in there for two weeks. It’s a miracle it hasn’t been destroyed. The top left corner of it has gotten frayed, because Keith keeps catching himself rubbing it with the pad of his thumb.

“I know you’ve been through so much,” Keith says quietly. “I’m sorry even to ask.”

The Balmeran’s stance is still carefully guarded, practiced —

“As have you.”

— but his eyes are soft and knowing.

Keith lets out a long, heavy breath. He slides the letter gently out of its spot, turning it over in his hands; inspecting the familiar creases, ink stains. It’s a rough, recycled envelope. Made out of old briefing notes, by the looks of it, thick black lines of censorship streaking across the pale yellow surface. An ugly thing, really.

“I need to get this to the Red Paladin of Voltron,” he says, forcing himself to hand the thing over. “I don’t — I can’t send it through the Empire delivery service, for obvious reasons. And Voltron’s location is always encrypted. I —” He stops, mouth clamping shut, because suddenly the words have become impossible to force out through the lump in his throat. He hasn’t talked to the team in weeks. He has no way of contacting them without putting them — or himself — in danger. There will be absolutely no way for Lance to send him a letter back, even if he wants to. The whole thing seems, abruptly, a painful kind of hopeless.

And yet.

“I will pass it along,” promises the Balmeran, voice flooded with kind understanding. He wraps his hands around Keith’s, squeezing once, before gently prying the letter out of his clenched fingers. “I don’t know how long it will take, but I have a someone who works in Emerg-med. She travels frequently, and should be able to take it farther than I can.”

“Thank you,” Keith chokes out, blinking rapidly.

The Balmeran smiles. “Keep strong, child.”

———

“Granddaughter,” greets the old man warmly. The young woman turns at his voice, laughing in delight when she sees him and enveloping him carefully in an embrace.

“Grandfather! You’re well!”

“I’m alive,” he corrects, teasingly.

She takes the jest in stride. “You are alive, and so you are well. I am so happy to see you.” There is genuine love in her voice. She holds tightly to his arm. “Are you staying in care long?”

He shakes his head. “No, dear. I dropped by only to see you. And,” he digs around in his pocket, carefully extracting a letter, placing it in her waiting hands, “to ask a favour.”

“A letter?”

“For the Red Paladin, from the Black.”

“I see.” She frowns thoughtfully, turning the paper over in her hands. “Last I heard, they were rebuilding on Ilso. I am going only as far as Igrendia, to visit my cousin.”

“Pass it along then,” he suggests.

She promises she will.

———

A young girl, to her cousin: “Imeld! Can you pass something along for me?”

A cousin, to her lover: “If you could drop it off at the supply camp when you stop by.”

A lover, to his father: “A friend of mine works in that fuel stop. Let him know I sent you?”

A father, to a friend of a friend: “Only a couple stops left, I reckon.”

A friend of a friend, to a friend of a friend, to a friend of a friend: “It’s almost there.

———

A friend of a friend of a friend, to a Paladin:

“I think this is yours. It’s travelled a while.”

———

A smile aches at the apples of Lance’s cheeks. Salt drips onto his tongue, and he swallows, breath shuddering.

“You — dorky asshole,” he whispers, and tucks the envelope in the secret pocket on the thigh of his undersuit.

———

Lance,

I have no idea if my last letter got to you. I hope it did, if not, here’s the rundown: you were right, I regret leaving, and I miss you.

Anyways.

Today I was on a mission in a planet that was just a huge wildflower field. Just — hundreds of hundreds of flowers, every colour you can imagine and then some. It smelled like you. I cried.

Do you remember when we snuck out of that negotiation — thing? Whatever it was? And you poked me hard in the arm and loudly complained about how much of a bummer I was being. And you dared me to roll down the hill with you. And when I was laughing at the bottom of the hill because you had just so much grass in your hair you crawled over me and kissed me like you’d been waiting to do it.

I remember how we kissed until my lips bruised after. And then we just lay there, until I got fidgety, and then you pulled us both up and walked around picking flowers and sticking them in my hair and snickering. This was the flower. Doesn’t it look like the one you brought back?

I thought of you a lot today. It hurt a little bit. A lot bit. I missed you until it ached.

I hope I see you in the flowers again soon.

I love you more than the stars

Love, and lots of it,

Keith

———

“Hey, Sedrit.”

His voice is as hushed as he can make it. He doesn’t want to wake the others. But she won’t be asleep — she never sleeps before big missions. She says it’s because the adrenaline keeps her alert, puffing up her chest. But Keith knows that she prays because she is afraid that she will die.

She doesn’t answer, so he kicks the bottom of the mattress above him. He hears a huff, and then seconds later, a curtain of hair flops over the side of the top bunk, and her wide, pupil-less eyes blink into focus.

“What do you want, shithead.”

He smiles at her guiltily. “A favour?”

“Ugh.”

But she looks at him in begrudging acceptance.

“I need you to — drop something off, when you go to El-dan. Ask another Blade there if they could pass on a letter.”

She must read his tone, because the annoyance vanishes from her expression. She reaches over and flicks him in the nose.

“Yeah, lovebird. I can pass on your letter.”

———

“Hey, man, could you send this along the next off-world?”

“What for?”

“For true love. Or because I asked you to.”

———

“I don’t know what it is. It’s classified. But it needs to get to the Red Paladin.”

———

“I heard it’s news of an ambush!”

“Well, it can’t be news now. It’s weeks old at least.”

“Yes, well, drop it off anyways. It’s Voltron business, you know.”

———

Lance’s door slide opens.

“I have — correspondence,” says Allura, eyebrows furrowed in confusion. “I was informed of a possible ambush? Perhaps we should read the letter together.”

Prepared remark about greetings and knocking and why they were invented flee Lance’s tongue, and his controller clatters to the ground in his haste to meet her.

“Lemme see,” he demands, snatching the letter straight from her hands. Her protests fall on deaf ears.

You were right, I regret leaving, I miss you.

He grins.

“What is that?”

“No ambush,” he says breathlessly, floating back over to his bed. He traces the shape of every letter, the blots of smudged ink. The scratch of the words is just as important as the content of the letter, Lance has found. He’s long since memorized the first letter, but he still finds himself drawing it out of his pocket, unfolding it with a shaky sort of reverence, studying every slanted T and looped L, closing his eyes and letting the impression of the ink burn into his eyelids. The cadence of the words have become song, hummed over and over and over again in his head.

This time, there’s a drawing. It does indeed look similar to the one hanging, dried, at the head of his bed. He presses the tip of his thumb into the center of it, breathing hard, rapidly blinking away the tears so they don’t drop and ruin the paper.

“I remember,” he manages, half-choked. “I remember, I remember.”

When he looks up again, hours have passed, and Allura has long since left, closing the door quietly behind her.

———

Lance, my love,

I know we do not talk about the observation deck.

It is your sacred place, I think. When you sit in the middle of the floor and look up at the glowing stars and the planets cast shadows on your face and make your eyes shine gold as sunlight the only way to describe you is holy. The first time I ever saw you like that it made my stomach hurt. When I think about it now I miss you so much the ache spreads all the way to my teeth.

When I was a kid I read about how grief makes you hurt but time makes you forget. I read about how men begin to forget the shape of their late wives’ smile. Or the slope of her nose. I read about how children begin to forget the slant of their fathers’ shoulder. How mothers forget the way their babies curled their fist.

Missing you hurts like unravelling. You’re all I think about. I will never forget the fit of your hand in mine as long as I remember how to speak. And I will know the ridges of your teeth so long as I can taste. I will know the length of your back as long as I can walk. I will remember the curve of your lips as long as I can blink. I will know the way you glowed in floating blue starlight until my brain shuts down and my organs fail me.

Patroclus said I will know him in death and at the end of the world.

I will know you every waking second of my life, and I will make myself remember for every nanosecond in between.

Nothing will compare to holding you in my arms again.

Keith

———

Sedrit has officially been declared missing in action. A new soldier has taken her bunk.

Keith’s stomach hurts all the time, now.

“Just — one time,” Keith begs.

“You have way more training than that job requires,” says Kolivan.

“I know. I just —” He realises, suddenly, that even if he had an argument he does not have the strength to make it. The letter creases in his clenched hands. “Please.”

For a long moment the Blade leader does not speak. Keith meets his searching gaze, but his eyes are blank, unfocused. Exhaustion pulls at his features. His hood droops on his shoulders.

“In an out, Keith,” Kolivan relents finally. “A supply mission should take less than four vargas. I want you back here then and not a tick later, so you understand?”

Keith could cry in relief, but Kolivan looks stiff enough already. Should Keith express an emotion in front of him he might be forced into a total system reset, and his programming might not be prepared for that.

“Thank you,” he says instead, and rushes off before he can change his mind.

Matt is leading the supply run. This letter might land right in Lance’s hands.

———

“I’ll get it to him, Keith.”

“Thank you, Matt. I owe you.”

“Take care of yourself, man. They all miss you.”

“…I miss them too.”

———

Matt hands him the letter without a word. No one else says anything, either, when he clenched it tightly between his thumb and forefinger and walks right out of the bridge. Not even Shiro, whose gaze Lance can feel bore a hole into the back of his head.

You’re all I think about, writes Keith’s neat cursive, and Lance presses the paper to his chest and cries.

———

My Lance,

I hate it here.

I miss you.

———

Alarm bells shriek through the headquarters. Keith has become numb to them, at this point.

He slides the letter in between the pages of an intelli-file and hopes.

———

CLASSIFIED

FOR VOLTRON’S EYES ONLY

BIOMETRICS REQUIRED

WILL SELF DESTRUCT

———

There is a letter waiting on his bed when Lance gets back from his mission on Efid-d. He has not slept in three days. His vision is blurry.

He falls asleep with the paper open in his hands, mirroring the curve of Keith’s body.

———

My love,

Naxzela. Soon. I think Kolivan knows there’s something wrong. I’m gonna I might I think I can stay, for a bit. Hopefully.

Well, I will see you again. Damn it all. I don’t care about the world I don’t care about the Empire I don’t care about anything, anymore, I just want to come home —

Naxzela.

It will be weeks until I see you face to face on this mission but already everything seems less bleak. I will admit some of the anger has crept in. I feel awful. I’m trying to remember what you said, in the very beginning, before you kissed me in the flowers. When you held my hands in the purple light and said we make a good team.

I know you say you don’t remember it, you goober. You do. You get embarrassed when I bring it up, that’s how I know. You always get embarrassed when you’re caught being vulnerable.

I loved you then, you know. I didn’t know it then but I did. I thought about your hand in mine for weeks. You have always been so central to me.

Soon, sweetheart. Soon I can hold you again.

Naxzela.

———

He doesn’t bother sending this one along. He tucks it in the secret pocket on the side of his pants, and with every passing day it grows heavier and the weight on his chest grows lighter.

———

When the shield closes over the planet and Keith says, it’s been an honour serving with you all, the scream starts at the bottom of Lance’s feet. It comes up to his knees when he sees the pod speeding towards it, up to his chest when Shiro barks at him to stay in formation. It catches in his throat as he wrenches Red away.

It echoes through space when the pod hits the shield in a shower of blue sparks and grey smoke, and Prince Lotor defects to their side one nanosecond too late.

———

The beep of the healing pod synchs with Lance’s heartbeat. It can’t quite drown out the screech echoing in Lance’s head; that keeps going, and going, and going.

Soon, sweetheart.

He sobs into the half-burned paper.

———

“You better keep your promise, you dorky asshole.”

———

Healing pods have always smelt, inexplicably, of burnt hair.

He hears the slide of the glass door opening, then the whoosh of air as he pitches forward before his arms are awake enough to stop him. Luckily, he falls right into bony arms, and the smell of flowers and sunshine quickly envelops him.

“You motherfucker,” says a voice, heavy with tears, and Keith smiles.

“Hi, sweetheart,” he croaks.

His Lance sobs. The hands on the sides of his arms slide slowly down to his wrists, gripping tightly. Keith forces his eyes open, blinking away the bleariness. Lance has his own eyes squeezed shut, like he’s too afraid to look, head bowed.

Well, that simply won’t do.

“Lance, baby, look at me.”

“You motherfucker,” Lance repeats, and finally he does look up but he’s glaring angrier than Keith has ever seen him. Keith grins wider. “You motherfucker, you damn near lied to me.”

Slowly, half convinced he’ll move to fast and wake up on his bunk, alone, he reaches up and cups Lance’s cheeks. He swipes his thumbs carefully over wet cheekbones, exhaling shakily, revelling in the feel of Lance’s skin under his, finally, finally, finally.

“I’m home, Lance,” he whispers. Tears spring from his own eyes. “Sweetheart, I’m home.”

“Stay,” Lance begs, like he should have months and months ago, like he meant to, like he wanted to.

“There’s no other option,” Keith promises, and as he leans in and presses their lips together, finally, tasting the salt and licking the ridge of his teeth and swallowing every shuddering breath, he vows to never send a letter again.

He’ll tell Lance all he needs to hear himself.

———

all art by @mothmanavenue

concept from this post

[problemchildtm]

Demolition

Derek Morgan x bau!reader

Angst/fluff~ 1.9k words

Warnings: Attachment issues, mentions of childhood trauma, bullying, self deprecating thoughts, suffering in silence (none specific), barely proofread, as always lmk if there’s more

A/n: My attempt at @reiderwriter ‘s 5K challenge. I started with one idea in mind then it kinda spiraled so this is the result. I’m still learning about writing so bear with me. This was so fun and congrats on 5K!!!!

Prompts: Grumpy x sunshine, Oh. OH, idiots in love maybe idk???

“She didn’t understand why, but faced with those decaying buildings and straggled grasses, she was nothing but a child who had never truly lived.”

Offputting, standoffish, rude: all words used to describe your demeanor and/or personality. A combination of these and more have run through your head for so long they’ve become a backtrack to your innermost thoughts. Though these were common sentiments thrown in your direction, you had little confidence in them. The words were hurled by people who would never truly know you nor make it past the walls you’ve so carefully created. No one has succeeded or even tried to climb the barriers until Derek Morgan. You’ve been with the Bau for a little over two years and while the majority of the team learned to accept your cold demeanor, Derek continues his attempt to coax you out of your shell. It’s not like you’re hostile, you just don’t go out of your way to be nice. Rather than converse and joke with the team you sit by yourself in silence. You speak when spoken to and refuse to drag out conversations or engage in small talk. The behavior was disheartening but necessary for your survival. Each action had an intention and they all boiled down to being averse to attachments. Small talk led to hangouts, hangouts led to friendships, friendships led to attachments, and attachments always led to heartbreak. Never once has an attachment left you feeling fulfilled. You’d been a witness to this fact a plethora of times and were determined to prevent the effects happening to you. It took some time but almost everyone eventually gave up their missions to get to know you. Almost everyone.

Derek Morgan was sickengly sweet to you. Every morning he insisted on making your first cup of coffee and every morning a note was left on that cup. Affirmations like “Good things are coming your way” or “You are a priority.” Honestly, it sounded straight out of a fortune cookie. It was dorky and inefficient yet you found yourself keeping every note. Not because you enjoyed them or found comfort in them or anything it would just be rude to throw it away. Right? Right. And it didn’t end with the notes. He’d personally drop off the note-adorned coffee and try to strike up a conversation. You’d always give a polite thank you and that was it. Well, there was one time you actually engaged with him and you swore he never smiled that hard before. Both the smile and conversation seemed to last the whole day and the ones following. His incessant need to speak and be around you should’ve annoyed you to no end but it almost made you open up. Almost. The second you felt the reins attached to your defense mechanisms loosen you immediately tightened them. They were there for a reason and somehow Derek Morgan made you want to loosen them. Under no circumstances would you give in. So, for the foreseeable future, you’d suffer in silence and suppress the urge to be unconditionally yourself in his presence.

You persisted in rejecting Derek’s attempts to get closer to you and it hurt. Why did it hurt? Unfortunately Fortunately, the upcoming case gave you no time to think about that one. Walking into the conference room, you never expected the image on the screen. It was a map of a familiar area, aka your hometown. Clearly, hiding a rare emotion in a room of profilers was futile because every single one of them asked if you were okay- even Garcia. Frozen in shock you could only muster up “hometown.” The answer seemed to appease them but you could sense the pity floating around the room. Derek gently grabbed your hand and led you to the seat beside him, grounding you. The gesture was followed by the signature Derek Morgan smile that was reserved for you. In return, you offered a small smile back and got into the case. His lingering eyes and overall concern went unnoticed by the object of his affections but caught the eye of every other person in that room. Thankfully the case was as straightforward as serial killers can be. It appeared to be cut-and-dry but everyone knew not to assume. Hypotheses and ideas were thrown back and forth between team members but you could only focus on the possibilities plaguing your mind. Taking notice of your unnaturally frightened air Derek carefully approached. “Wanna tell me what’s going through that pretty little head of yours?” Truthfully you didn’t know how to respond. What wasn’t going through your head more like? Understanding you couldn’t keep everything to yourself for the good of the case you started small. “A lot. I haven’t been there since I was sixteen and I wasn’t exactly well-liked.” Hanging on to your every word Derek continued, “Why not?” This time you didn’t respond, just kept staring out of the window. He was getting too close. You were getting too close. That wasn’t enough for him but he wouldn’t dare invade your boundaries; he cared too much to sacrifice the little progress he’s made. Before slipping on his headphones he remarked, “You don’t have to tell me but at least know I’m here and judgment-free.” This was going to be a long case.

The first few days were spent compiling evidence and chasing bodies as the case wasn’t as simple as previously thought. Each minute spent there was pulling at you. It felt like your body was constantly on fire, the only thing cooling you off being scribbles on a paper cup. The messages were less generic and more heartfelt. Unlike other mornings Derek backed off, giving you space to process your thoughts and notes. You missed the near-constant chatter and focused all your energy on the case, hoping it would return once on to the next. After a while, you had a lead. With Reid’s help the geographical profile was done and right in the center was a park you frequented as a kid. Maybe less than a park and more like a grass field surrounded by office buildings but tomato tomato. Hotch assigned you and Morgan to check it out so that’s what you went off to do. Should’ve known it wouldn’t be that easy. He looked over and smiled. “You gonna tell me the significance of this patch of grass or do I have to profile it out of you?” Rolling your eyes you relented. There was no point in dragging it. “I grew up poor and the local park charged entry. Every poor kid in the area would come here.” The look of shock on his face wasn’t missed despite his efforts to conceal it. “I’ve never heard of a park charging kids to play is that even legal?” “Unfortunately for you, I am not Reid and cannot give you an answer.” you chuckled. That was the first time he heard you laugh in any capacity and he was so determined to hear it again. “You should laugh more, it’s adorable.” Adorable? You’ve been called a lot of names in your life: by your parents, peers, teachers, superiors, you name it. Adorable has never been one of them. You spent a couple of seconds analyzing him. “You think I’m adorable?” At the end of your sentence, that smile reappeared. “Incredibly. Especially when you try not to smile at my jokes.” He said playfully. Dumbfounded, the only retort you had was honesty. “I don’t smile much anymore. I want to but I can’t.” “Why not?” As much as you wanted the conversation to continue, you couldn’t help but notice how different your childhood hotspot looked. While his eyes were still on you you jumped out of the SUV and took in your surroundings. It smelt different. Years ago it smelt like wonder. As hopeless as it sounds the area smelt like wonder. It felt like an entirely different reality. One you could escape to when things at home and school were bad and that was often if not continuously. It no longer felt like that. It felt cold, bare even. The childlike wonder was gone, the hope was gone, your escape was gone. Suddenly your eyes began to well with tears and the floodgates opened. "You didn't understand why, but faced with those decaying buildings and straggling grasses, you were nothing but a child who had never lived." The emotions overwhelmed every sense and the brass reality hit like a truck. All the walls, all the precautions stopped you from ever truly living. You clung onto that escape and depended on it, perpetually remaining the child that needed to come here to truly live. You wanted to be more open, you wanted to have friends and relationships, you wanted to be better.

Everything came to a head when Derek rushed over to you, frantically asking if you were okay. He’s never seen you cry. Before today he’s never seen you be anything other than complacent. The past fifteen minutes have been the most amount of emotions he’s seen from you and he didn’t know what to do or how to help. Worried, he stuck to a bearhug and a mantra: “You’re okay, you’re safe, come back to me please.” He was practically begging after five minutes. In between breaths, you managed to get out a strangled “Why do you like me? Why haven’t you given up on me?” You were still crying but Derek knew he needed to act. He pulled away and softly wiped your tears, forcing you to look at him. “I need you to copy my breathing baby, can you do that?” It took some time but you were able to get your breathing under control, the tears not so much. Silence took over the two of you until he spoke up. “Why would I give up on you? Everyone suffers differently. You choose silence and that’s okay, the only thing I can do is be a shoulder for you to cry on if you choose it. I haven’t given up because I want you to be happy.” He paused, gathering his next thoughts. “I like you because you’re unapologetically you. You try to detach yourself and not care but you’re not great at it. I know you sneak Garcia’s favorite snacks into her lair and don’t think I’m oblivious to you being the one to listen to Reid’s ramblings when the rest of us tune him out.” You interrupted him. “You guys should stop doing that by the way it’s mean” For the first time in what felt like forever he laughed. “See that’s what I mean. You hide behind a grumpy exterior but you’re so much more than that, and that’s one of the many reasons I like you.” You just stared at him. You couldn’t remember the last time someone spoke to you like that, let alone the last time someone saw beyond your gruff exterior. You started to apologize for the breakdown but he quickly nipped that, explaining how you don’t need to feel sorry. You felt safe for once. The cold feeling dissipated and was replaced by an unfamiliar warmth. The tears stopped and you were hyperfocused on the way the man in front of you met your eyes. The silence that hung over you felt like normalcy that only lasted a second before Derek spoke up. “If it wasn’t clear baby I like you.” You looked up at him confused. “I know you just told me that.” A dopey smile spread across his face as he answered. “No, I like you and want to take you out on a date.” Oh. OH. You smiled. A real, toothy, dopey smile that matched his. “I’d like that.” The walls began chipping away.

It would take time and resources to completely demolish them but for the first time you were excited for the demolition.

[misseviehyde]

HEARTLESS - PART 2

Time flies when you're having fun.

It certainly had for Pippa. She could barely believe it had been a year since she had claimed the power of the heart necklace and taken control of the school. Since then her life had been amazing.

Pippa found it hard to remember the pathetic weakling she used to be. Hard and also disgusting. When she looked in a mirror to see her perfect body and massive tits, it felt like she had always been this way, not some pathetic dweeb.

She tried to visualise the dorky features of her past life. She tried to imagine glasses on her face, a flat chest, a nerdy haircut... but she couldn't. It made her want to retch.

So pathetic... such a loser. Pippa was MUCH better now.

Since she had claimed the necklace Pippa had become a name synonymous with bitchiness. She was a baddie who took what she wanted and no one got in her way. She loved being the most evil bitch around.

Her parents and her friends had struggled at first to accept the new her. Luckily the necklace gave her the power to force her will onto others. It had been fun, bending and breaking the wills of others. Making them forget the original her.

She'd brainwashed and corrupted her parents, turning her kind hearted Mom into a ruthless gold digger and her Dad from a quiet accountant nto a ruthless business man.

Now they lived in the biggest house in town. Pippa had a room three times the size of her old room. She had hundreds of clothes, everything she could ever want. It was heavenly. It was what she deserved.

Power and wealth was SO addictive.

She played with her necklace as she often did, a long manicured nail idly stroking the chain as she purred with the sheer joy of just being completely evil.

The sex was the best thing. Pippa had been a virgin before wearing the necklace. She certainly wasn't anymore...

Big hard throbbing cock, tight wet pussy, lingerie, dildos, anal... cum... she loved it all. She was a nasty little slut, just like every hot busty rich girl should be.

Now after a year of fucking, bullying and dominating - it was almost graduation. Almost time to take her evil out further into the world. Unlike that loser Beckie, she wouldn't get drunk and lose the necklace. She would leave this town and live as an all powerful bitch forever. The thought made her wet.

She was so gonna be a bitch... forever.

Pippa's finger tightened on the chain of her necklace, her sharp nail brushed her skin. She moaned pleasurably.

She still remembered how good it had felt to transform that first time. To feel her body change from weak to strong, her mind from pure to evil.

She remembered how glorious her tits had felt, swelling up bigger and bigger in her hands. She remembered the intoxicating feel of power, of growing taller, stronger, more dominant. Best of all had been Kathryn's jealous haunted face.

It had felt amazing to outgrow her friend. To transform into everything Kathryn secretly wanted to be. To become a bitch.

Her pussy dripped as her nipples became harder. She felt so fucking hot right now.

"Fucckkkkkkkkk," moaned Pippa, her eyes rolling up into her head. Her fingers twitched and she clutched the chain, her lips open and her mouth a lustful leer of ecsatsy. She just felt sooooo fucking good.

"Mistress?" suddenly whimpered a pathetic broken voice.

Pippa's cruel mouth automatically twitched into a smirk of amusement. She opened her eyes and gazed down in satisfaction.

She'd always wanted a cat and now she had one.

Kathryn had entered the room. She sat obediently in the corner, dressed only in a pair of stupid cat ears and a pair of thigh boots. Other than that she was naked... well except for the butt plug in her ass with the cat tail attached.

Pippa was pleased with her work on Kathryn. Her former friend was nicely broken, an obedient puppet ready to serve. She'd been resistant to the programming... but a year was a long time and Kathryn was a good girl now. Pippa had enjoyed shaping her.

Cat-maid Kathryn was shared between Pippa and Kathryn's own mother Beckie. Since reminding the older woman of the joys of bitchdom, Pippa had enjoyed watching her become increasingly evil again. Beckie certainly was creative.

Kathryn was now just the way Pippa and Beckie liked her now and there was no going back. She spent her time cleaning and serving the other women. She even seemed to be enjoying it a little.

Pippa groaned wetly and clutched her silver heart. Kathryn was never getting her life back. Never ever...

***

Kathryn gazed up with a mix of fear, obedience and hatred at her Mistress. She hated the feel of the air on her naked body, she felt constantly humiliated and weak this way. Forced to dress as a cat girl, to lick milk from a bowl, to serve Pippa's perverted desires... she was a broken girl these days.

She whimpered and kissed Pippa's high heeled feet knowing the effect it should have. She watched slyly as Pippa tugged at the chain at her neck... a habit that was becoming more pronounced every day.

Pippa seemed to not realise how often she touched the chain around her neck. At first it had been an occasional thing, a little tug here and there. Then it had begun to increase.

Kathryn had noticed Pippa would do it more often when she was aroused or emotional. It was like an unconscious tick

She had set out to try and deliberately put her friend in either state. She knew her only hope was to somehow get Pippa to take off the necklace.

"Mistress, shall I eat you out?" whimpered Kathryn.

"Mmmmmh, why not? I feel horny," groaned Pippa hiking up her short skirt and pulling down her expensive panties. She grabbed Kathryn's head, her sharp sexy nails sliding into the other girls hair and scratching her scalp. Roughly, Pippa pushed Kathryn's face into her crotch.

"That's it you little bitch. You know what to do." One hand still unconsciously clutching the necklace, the other in her former friends hair - Pippa began to moan and groan.

Kathryn meanwhile knew that she had to try and make Pippa cum. She had to eat this pussy better than she ever had before.

She went enthusiastically to work, moaning and licking. Gasping as wet pussy juices flooded her mouth and chin. It didn't hurt that Pippa's pussy did smell and taste amazing. Kathryn hated to admit it, but she was turned on and attracted to Pippa just like everyone else. She felt a thrill of being able to eat such a Goddesses tight pussy out.

"Fuckkkk yessssss, mmmmmh I LOVE IT. Ohhhh fuckkkk I'm going to cum all over your loser face. YESSSSSSSSS!"

Pippa's hand tightened on the chain. She tugged and pulled harder than she ever had before, a toe curling orgasm blasting through her body as she began to squirt in Kathryn's face.

"Fucckkkkkkkkkkkk!"

*PING*

The sound of the necklace snapping was shockingly loud, even over the sound of Pippa's orgasm.

Kathryn leapt up with snarl her hands extended. The necklace tumbled down between them, the chain flailing. Pippa's eyes were a mask of shocked horror.

Both girls grabbed at the heart. Each now held a length of the chain, the silver heart dangling between them.

"Get off you fucking loser, it's mine!" screamed Pippa lashing out with a high heeled foot. Kathryn dodged to the side and pulled with all her might, but Pippa's grip was iron strong.

But something was already happening. Pippa was shrinking. Her sexy halter top hung baggy on her frame and her massive tits seemed smaller. Brown streaks had appeared in her hair and her beautiful face looked a bit less mean and cruel. Her power was bleeding away.

Desperation gave Pippa strength and focus. She barrelled into Kathryn and they crashed around the room, knocking over chairs. Pippa swung wildly with her free arm, forcing Kathryn to protect her face.

"You fucking loser," laughed Pippa her eyes wild with glee. "You're too weak to take it from me."

With a snarl of pleasure she kicked Kathryn hard in the stomach causing the other girl to lose her grip on the necklace and stagger back.

Grinning triumphantly Pippa held the loose ends of the heart necklace together. They fused instantly and turning to the mirror she lifted the necklace over her head and back to its rightful place.

Kathryn crashed into her back sending Pippa tumbling forward against the wall. Strong hands grabbed the necklace, but rather than trying to remove it, they pulled back. Pippa gagged and choked, gasping for breath.

Her tit's were swelling up again and her strength returning. In moments she would be powerful enough to hurl this insect from her back.

But before her transformation back into a Goddess could be fully completed, her vision began to blur.

Yanking desperately at the chain of the necklace Kathryn heard Pippa make a choking noise, then she collapsed limp to the floor.

Kathryn let go immediately, horrified by what she'd done. Leaning down she listened by Pippa's mouth and to her relief heard slow and steady breathing. Pippa was just unconscious.

Reaching down Kathryn easily lifted the necklace from Pippa. It came off shockingly fast, almost as if it were eager to be removed.

Pippa's unconscious body began to change. She reverted back to her old self... with a dorky hair cut and brown hair. A kind gentle face instead of a bitchy one.

Kathryn sobbed to see her old friend again. She had been freed of the necklaces evil.

And now it's your turn.

Kathryn looked down at the necklace in her hand. She remembered the voice, that evil voice in her mind. How many times had she lay weeping wishing she'd listened to it?

That's it. You've suffered, but that just made you stronger. Now it's your turn to wear me. Pippa has shown you how good being an evil bitch really is. It's your turn to experience the power.

Kathryn shivered. She reached behind her and wincing pulled out the silver butt plug that Pippa had made her wear.

Taking off the cat ears, she paced the room arguing with herself. She had originally intended to bury this evil necklace before Pippa stole it - now it was tempting her again.

On the floor Pippa groaned, stirring...

Pippa will find a way to take it back. Or if she doesn't Beckie will. Put me on and feel the power for yourself.

Kathryn lifted the necklace. It would look so fucking pretty round her neck. It would feel so good to be a bitch.

That's it Kathryn... you're almost there... and this time no one is going to stop me corrupting you.

Kathryn lowered the necklace. She fully expected her hands to stop, or someone to walk into the room and stop her like before... but almost to her surprise the necklace was suddenly around her neck and nestled on her chest.

"Ohhhh fuckkkkkk," she groaned as her skin shifted and her body thrummed. So THIS was how it felt to become a Goddess.

Long sexy nails shot out of Kathryn's fingers and her skin tanned and smoothed. Her hair took on volume and length, becoming blonde as her flat chest swelled out and two bitchy boobs pushed out.

Yessss that's it. Let yourself become the vessel of evil. Filled with toxic femininity. All you care about is yourself. Give into your worst impulses.

Kathryn groaned and giggled in ecstasy... "Yessss I want it. Fucking give it to me. Fill me with your evil! Make me a BITCH!"

She screamed as her ass inflated and she grew taller and slimmer. Her once plain features became hot spoiled and bitchy. She laughed as she stretched her beautiful new body.

That's it. Beautiful outside, evil inside. You are a cold, heartless bitch. You live to be mean.

On the floor Pippa weakly opened her eyes and slowly sat up. Her eyes widened in horror as she saw the transforming bitch in the centre of the room and realised what was happening.

"Oh nooooo."

"Ohhh YESSSSS!" hissed Kathryn as she ran her hands over her delicious new body. Her clothing transformed becoming a stunning pink dress as thick makeup coated her features and she became a mean spoiled Diva.

In moments the power transfer was completed. Pippa was now totally normal again whereas Kathryn was gone and only Kat remained.

"You dumb fucking bitch," laughed Kat as she reached down and picked up the silver butt plug from where she had dropped it. "You thought you had broken me, but you just made me easier for the necklace to corrupt. There isn't one molecule of pity or mercy inside me now. I AM the ultimate bitch."

"Wh... what are you going to do?" whimpered Pippa in fear.

"All the things you did and worse," purred Kat.

She advanced on Pippa and grinned as she spat on the butt plug.

"But first we need to get you into your new uniform... cat maid. Bend over for Mistress."

Pippa moaned as she spread her butt cheeks wide and felt the plug slide deep inside. She knew better than to try and resist.

She would serve. It was pointless to fight.

For now...

THE END

[agneswarda]

golden girls is so amazing i even made a powerpoint

(I copy-pasted the main text under the cut. unfortunately, I can't find the time for a proper alt text. life is stressful rn)

-Picture it: Miami, late 80s/early 90s. four 60+ women

-living together.

-Sure, they talk a lot about (straight) sex

-but what we see on screen is their dynamic. Their deep friendship. Their love also they often act quite gay with eachother. amazing

-Did i mention they are old. They are old and deal with getting sick and aging. A lot.

-But their life isn‘t over. They might not be related. But they are family, and they are here for each other

-These four women are the Golden Girls.

-You are in for a treat. A 7 seasons 25 episodes long treat

Introducing the girls: Dorothy Zbornak

-not to be a lesbian but omg

-Tall soft butch

-quick-witted

-sarcastic

-her voice *swoons*

-would make numbers on tumblr

-> her idea of a good time is being Alone wiht a book in her room

-> Huge dorky nerd

- Being vulnerable is not her strength but when she is It‘s amazing. Soft. makes me cry

Introducing the girls: Blanche Devereaux

-slutty

-sexy

-selfish

-sensitive

-Sensual

-Did i mention slutty

-And proud of it

-All these things are her strenghts as well as her weaknesses

 -She is actually quite complex

Introducing the girls: Rose Nylund

-Sweet

-Loving

-Kind

-caring

-Everyone says she‘s Dumb

-I think she might just Be neurodivergent?!??!!!! With her special interest

-Being St. Olaf

-The place she comes from

-Has amazing st olaf stories for everything

-Can also be a judgy bitch sometimes

Introducing the girls: Sophia Petrillo

-SHE WOULD MAKE NUMBERS ON TUMBLR

-„You're a funny little gnome, and we feed you too much.”

-This quote describes her perfectly

-It’s Dorothy who says it to her

-Who is incidentally her daughter

-Trickster energy

-Don‘t know if she is gay. But she commits crimes

-It‘s her way of dealing with old age

-And all the limitations it brings

-The show would just be half as funny without her

But op. Is it really this good. It‘s so old

I will admit: not everything aged well. Be also prepared for:

-it‘s v white. If they have characters of color, they sometimes work well. And sometimes it‘s embarassing to watch bc harmful stereotypes (not often but yeah. It happens.)

-Bodyshaming: the girls tease each other about their height, weight etc. and sometimes it can really become a lot/too much.

-Rose is so often the butt of the joke for not understanding situations. I think a lot of neurodivergent folks can relate. And it can hurt to hear the same old mean comments again and again

BUT

-This is a series which was never afraid of complicated topics

-First and foremost: the queer advocacy and topics were and still are amazing. The found family of it all alone.

-Also: death,being sick, being disabled. Getting old. Not performing the gender The way one would like to (anymore) (so. yes. Dysphoria. In a way). The financial aspect of it all. These are important topics which are treated with humor (of course) but also with respect

-it‘s a kind show which has its heart in the right place

-And i mean

-4 old women who are „just“ friends living together, supporting eachother?

-That shit is still revolutionary in the year of our lord 2024

So give it a chance!!!!11!!!!!111

[ratsonastick]

Clarisse and Nerdy/shy reader>>>>>>> PLEASE 

(Warnings: A bit suggestive but not in a lot of details)

A/N - Ratsonastick comeback???

Clarisse liked girls who were like her. Strong, hot, angered. But she loved the shy girls more. 

Yes on occasions they could be annoying but something about seeming like the man in the relationship just made a heat form in the pit of her stomach. 

When she saw you walking in those short jeans shorts that you keep forgetting to throw out, and dorky oversized glasses, she knew you couldn't fight. 

Strange thought, she knew that, but she wanted you to be weak so she could be the one to yell at people for you. 

It wasn’t love at first sight, nuh uh. She probably lowkey thought you were a bit ugly and only liked the idea of just protecting and bossing you around. She couldn’t help it. It wasn't till a week later did she finally get a break from camp activities and saw you again at the lake. 

You were with your friends, talking about random stuff. She heard you complain about getting sunburnt and wanting to swim but your friends only wanted to sun tan to which you groaned and rolled onto your stomach. 

She took a break from talking to her friend and looked at you, your little bathing suit that seemed a little small. How your thighs were pressed together making your ass lift more. She wanted to aggressively grab your skin. 

She wanted you to squish your thighs against her face. 

It wasn't until the next week did she say anything to you. You were walking and accidentally bumped into her, how this happened she didn't know but she was secretly grateful. 

“I'm so sorry,” you rushed out, afraid she would punish you somehow. Clarisse held onto your shoulders as you steadied yourself “It's cool’” she spoke, in a voice you couldn't figure out. 

“Wanna go out?” She asked out of the blue, catching you off guard. “Ermm yeah” you replied, part of you said yes out of fear, but the other half was because she was hot. 

Clarisse wanted to be direct with you when you started dating. Have her hand on you, sometimes connected with yours but mostly anywhere else. 

She liked how you crossed your legs when you sat next to her, and how hers would spread open to rest near yours. 

She would force you to sit in the crowded Ares cabin, she liked staring at you while she relaxed on the couch. She would yell at the siblings while they whispered about the two of you. She knew you wouldn't say anything, so she did. 

When you guys started to become a bit more … active. 

SHE WENT WILD. 

Like screw trying to be respectful, her hands would travel all over you. Biting into your skin and licking it gently after. Smacking your skin if she was frustrated and then quickly soothing it afterward with soft kisses. 

She liked you in her lap, so she could lean back and look at you. 

And it wasn't even during these suggestive moments she liked you sitting face forward in her lap. It was whenever you could be without feeling shy or embarrassed by the gaze of others. 

She liked watching you talk in her lap, watching how your face changed slightly when she grazed her hands over your thighs. Teasingly tugging down your shorts. 

She liked it when you were rude towards her, well depending on the situation, but if it was her being playful and you had sass she would go crazy. A smile would cross her face and she would begin teasing you. 

If you are in her lap she would raise her knee up so you fall forward closer to her and start teasing you which would lowkey make you get embarrassed.

You go on about saying how you're never going to speak again and she would start gasping

 “No no no I need to hear my princess's voice, I'm only teasing.”

 And she would kiss you softly on the neck and smile.

[fleursbending]

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐒𝐮𝐥𝐥𝐲’𝐬 𝐀𝐯𝐞𝐧𝐠𝐞 𝐓𝐨𝐠𝐞𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫. | Sully Family

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 : after the successful intervention, your family's hearts still burn for some good ol' revenge. luckily for them, an unfortunate event arises that allows them to do just that.

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 : sully!family x sully!daughter reader

𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞 : i apologise that this took a lot longer than it should have to be posted! i initially wasn't going to do a part 2, but so many ppl wanted it i just decided eh why the heck not?? with that being said, pls read part 1 before this because i don't think this can be read as a stand-alone! mother!tiri really shines through this time so now i'm just healing your mommy and daddy issues atp.

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 : bullying/teasing?, hurt/comfort yk the drill, angst, fluff, lo'ak pummels ao'nung, pissed mom!tiri, tonowari pops tf off, dorky brother neteyam, ao is a dickwad here!

𝐠𝐥𝐨𝐬𝐬𝐚𝐫𝐲 : (actually highkey proud of this i'm trying to use more na'vi in my stories from now on) Tsmuke - sister, Skxawng - moron/idiot, Tsmukan - brother, Yaymak - foolish/ignorant, Sa'nok - mother, Txavä’ -disgusting, ‘Itetsyìp - little daughter (term of endearment), Tsamsiyu - warrior, Muntxate - wife/female spouse, Olo’eyktan - clan leader, ‘Ite - daughter, Itan - son, Sempul - father, Uturu - sanctuary, Oeyä - my (possessive), ‘Awsiteng - together.

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 : 2.9k words !!

𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 :  @pandorainmymind @eywas-heir @spicycloudsalad @missdreamofendless @prty-poisxn @scarlettwitch-4 @23victoria @avidreader3107 @purplehyacinthss @itssiaaax @neteyamoa @tsireyasgf @nijirozzz @useryourbut @yua-himari @sweetheartlizzie07 @grierpilots @reneehillary69 @fruitsalad1 @forasgaard @iwaslikeblah @dumb-fawkin-bitch @theicemav @narutoboi

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐖𝐄𝐀𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑 𝐖𝐀𝐒 𝐎𝐍 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐒𝐈𝐃𝐄 today, it had been storming the last few days. Now you and your siblings were making the most of the sunshine. Things have been really good the past few weeks, and slowly you were finally beginning to warm up to the ocean. The past had to stay where it was, now you were gradually moving on. 

Y/n remembers her dad's words then, "It's the little steps that end up making the biggest difference." 

He was right, they really did. 

"Neteyam", Y/n giggled as he splashed water at her whilst she sat at the edge of the platform they used to easily access jumping into the water when calling for their Ilu's. Her legs dangled over the edge, peering down at her siblings.

"Tsmuke, you are being silly! Come join us in the water!" Neteyam tried to beckon you to join him and Tuk as they played with their Ilu's.

"Yeah, come on Y/n!" Tuk whined, only to be cut off by ecstatic laughter as her Ilu nudged their head onto her back. 

Y/n held her hands up then, an unfinished anklet dangling below the palm of her hand. 

"I am finishing this, you skxawngs." She reminded them, wanting to give it to Tsireya once it was finished. 

As Y/n began to reach out of her reserved shell, Tsireya swooped right in. She, Neteyam, and Tsireya had become a trio of sorts. She was hoping to make matching anklets for all of them.

"Alright, we're going to ride our Ilu's further out. Is that okay, tsmuke?" Neteyam called out to you, pointing further out.

You rolled your eyes at his worried tone. 

You love your family, really you do. But the one downside to the confrontation you had with all of them. Well, they've been treating you like a little baby ever since then. 

The doting and attention were very much appreciated at first. But it escalated to your siblings trailing after you everywhere you went, for the most part. They'd become increasingly overprotective whenever Ao'nung and his crew were in close proximity to you. The kicker? They implemented a curfew for you now. You had to be home an hour before dinner was ready, a whole hour! 

Basically, your freedom and alone time had been cut in half. Stripped away from you. While you looked a lot more healthy and since perked up in the past few weeks - your family continued to remain on the edge. They just didn't anything to further happen to you, especially now that you've progressed so much.

The Sully's knew you were a strong girl, but the pieces you were starting to put back together could easily be ripped apart again. So for the time being, they'll do whatever it takes to prevent it.

Unfortunately for them, such an event was just right around the corner. 

Y/n scrutinized Neteyam and in return, the eldest son wiggled his nonexistent eyebrows in a taunting manner. 

"Yes, tsmukan. Now go!" You urged him to leave as Tuk waved bye to you.

Letting out a happy sigh at the silence that filled you, wow - this was really nice. She thought to herself. Just the waves rippling beneath you is what accompanies you. 

Neteyam was about to dive into the water when he turned to look back and check on you. There you sat in the same position, back hunched and eyes focused as you continued to weave the unfinished anklet. 

He nodded to himself then, satisfied that you were alright.

Yet the moment he turned his back and dove into the water, the infamous group you've been trying to avoid made their way into the nook where your mauri and outdoor area were. 

Y/n tensed as the air shifted, hearing the sounds of multiple footsteps nearing her. A feeling of deja vu surged through her, oh no. 

"Alone, at last, the great daughter of Toruk Makto!" Ao'nung jeered as their shrill laughter raked through the once peaceful aura you were just starting to settle in. 

A not-so-subtle hiss escaped your lips, eyes closing in disdain. Can a girl not get any damn alone time around here? 

"What's this then? Oh, an anklet!" Ao'nung had stalked over to you from behind, ripping the unfinished weaved strings out of your hand. 

Defeat flooded your futures, not wanting to make anything of this. Y/n hoped they'd just say a few insulting comments and mosey on out of here.

"Who is this for, me? I love it soooo much!" Ao'nung mocked, sarcasm dripping in his tone as his friends cheered him on.

"No. It is for your sister." Y/n deadpanned, not finding the amusement they seemed to be in this predicament. 

"Well, it's quite pathetic. I think you should start over if you want my sister to actually appreciate this." He teased, nimble fingers beginning to untangle the hard work you had just done. 

Your ears folded back then, standing up and facing the idiots. Cracking your neck, a harsh glare was sent their way. Sticking out your open hand, palm up in front of Ao'nung. 

"Just stop that and hand it back over. Then you can be on your own merry ways." You tried to appease them.

"When did you suddenly find your voice? I ought to stomp it out." Ao'nung sneered at you then, and in a blink of an eye, he had thrown your project into the ocean. 

"Ao'nung!" She fumed, angry eyes scouting the water but you could no longer see it. 

"Yaymak! Useless like my father had said, how do you even survive? Come on, take a dip!" He contended, bending down beside you to push you in-

A jarring snarl erupts from behind them. They all jump and swivel around, but are instantly stumped. 

There stood your Sa'nok, gripping a basket full of fruit so viciously that it chipped - pieces of dried flax splintering and falling to the ground. 

"Txavä’. Useless? I ought to show you how you can become useless-" She stormed over to them making most of the boys in front of you yelp in surprise and jump back again.

"Sa'nok! Do not!" You remarked, astonished at her shameless way of protecting you. 

Ever since finding out about what had happened to you, she'd been so civil whenever in the clan leader and tsahik's son's presence. Now she realises how eery those actions actually were. Oh great mother, she was just doing it for your sake. 

"Ma ‘itetsyìp, she is a fierce tsamsiyu. Unlike you!" She vehemently fired, pointing at Ao'nung.

He began to splutter out apologies, the realisation dawning on him that he was being reprimanded by one of the fiercest women Awa'atlu had ever come across.

Another figure popped out of the shadows then, Lo'ak. His fists were tightly clenched at his sides, eyebrows furrowed as indignation rolled off of him in waves.

"Yaymak?! He snapped, and before you could even fully acknowledge his presence he rushed forward - tackling Ao'nung who was receiving a scolding from Neytiri, into the ocean before you. 

"Lo'ak!" Y/n fretted as she peered over the edge to see the two boys yelling and cussing each other out as they floundered about in the water. 

"What in the world…" Jake whispered in question to himself as him and Tonowari rounded the corner - quickening their paces due to the faint sounds of the commotion they had overheard.

His eyes widened at the scene before him, the chief mimicking his expression as well as they stopped, stunned in their tracks.

Neytiri was still yelling at the group of bullies, an accusatory finger prodding at one of his shoulders as he looked down at his feet in embarrassment. She turned a blind eye to what he rebellious son had just done, deeming it was rightfully deserved.

 Both their eyes then flittered over to Y/n who was basically dangling on the edge of the platform, hauling a battered Lo'ak back up. 

His drenched body collided with the surface and he grunted, but that didn't stop him from turning around to flip off Ao'nung who was struggling to push himself up.

"Yeah, eat shit!" Lo'ak continued to provoke him, even while branding a busted lip and what looked like the beginnings of a black eye. 

"Lo'ak…" You cautioned, pointing to your father and Tonowari's looming figures.

"Oh fuck." He cursed to himself. 

"What is going on here?" Tonowari boomed then, stepping forward and making his presence known. 

Jake trailed behind him, tail swishing in unease. 

"Neytiri!" He called for his muntxate, grabbing onto her and pulling Neytiri into his side. 

You walked over to stand by your parents, guilt crescendoing - this happened all because of you. Stupid, you didn't want to make a scene in the first place.

"I'm sorry Olo'ektyan. This is all my fault." Y/n confessed, tail drooping as all the attention was shifted to her. 

"She is lying! My 'ite cannot carry this burden any longer, she will not. This is all your son's fault! He has been antagonising my ‘itetsyìp since we came here." She persisted, a sigh of irritation falling from her lips as she once again pointed at Ao'nung.

The mentioned boy wiped his bloody nose, ears shifting as Neytiri said his name with such harsh conviction.

"'Itan, is what Neytiri speaks of true?" Tonowari divulged as he dug into Ao'nungs pride with a mere look.

"Yes, sempul. What she speaks of is true." He blanched at the scrutinizing look Jake targeted toward him. 

It was like he was about to walk into the battlefield, gun in hand and ready to rain blood.

"Look at me, boy!" Tonowari thundered, eyes now slits as he admonished Ao'nung. 

The clan leader's son could've gotten whiplash from how fast his head turned. 

"Go home, and work up an apology. Now." The chief ordered.

"But, I can apologise now-" He tried to reason, wishing to get this embarrassment over and done with.

"It would be insincere." Both Neytiri and Tonowari spoke at once, the former giving an apologetic nod to your mother in agreement.

Ao'nung tried to fess up some words, but Tonowari glared. His chest almost heaving from contempt.

"Go!" He bellowed. Ao'nung with his tail between his legs scampered off back to his mauri.

His friends stood there, almost comically. They knew they were utterly fucked and word of this would travel back to their own families.

"Why are you still here, shouldn't you be working on your apologies as well?" Tonowari antagonised.

"Oh, uhm- sorry!" One of them spluttered before being shoved by another boy as they all ran off.

Tonowari sighed in chagrin, a hand of his meeting his face. He stood straight then, turning to acknowledge your family.

Right in tow, Neteyam, Tuk, and Kiri were pulling themselves back up from the ocean.

Lo'ak went over to help them. Ignoring the worried hands of his older brother that looked over his bruises.

"As Olo'ekytan, I failed in my duties today. As a father, I also failed. I sincerely apologise to you, dear." He looked at you then, eyes full of guilt as he briefly placed his hand on your shoulder.

"I will be sure that he will see through a firm reprimanding, Jake Sully." Tonowari called to the man that had become his good friend.

"I raise my apology to the rest of your family as well. You came here to seek uturu. This will not happen again." 

Jake motioned, Oel ngati kameie, to him. Tonowari returned the motion, bowing his head down lower than usual to try to convey his genuine upset at the situation his son had conjured.

"You are a fierce mother, Neytiri. Your Sa'nok would be proud." Tonowari added, before turning around and making his exit too. 

Neytiri watched him leave, a faint smile on her lips before giving all her undivided attention to you.

"Oeyä 'ite, are you hurt?" She necessitated, lifting your arms up and checking for any wounds.

"Sa'nok, I am fine." You dejected, eyes flittering to look anywhere to ignore her studying gaze.

"What happened?" Neteyam interjected, rushing over to you and bringing you into a hug. He felt terrible for having left you alone.

"I'm never leaving you again." He whispered, holding your head to his chest.

While the words came with comfort, they made your chest constrict. 

Agitated you shoved him away. In return, Neteyam fumbled backward in surprise.

"Y/n!" Kiri gasped in shock.

"I am fine! I'm going to be fine! I'm not dying or anything, I'm still here okay?! I appreciate the concern, but please. Just, leave me alone." Your voice grew fainter towards the end of your speel, tears welling up in your eyes. 

Cursing to yourself you rushed into the family mauri, humiliation seeping into your conscience. 

Jake began to follow you but Neytiri put a hand on his chest. It had emerged on her then, how a situation that seemed so minor grew to become a lot more vocal than any of them prepared for.

Y/n was not one for attention, let alone being stuck in the midst of it all.

"Give her a moment, then we will go and console her," Neytiri spoke with quiet empathy.

"Okay." Jake agreed hesitantly, all he wanted to do was comfort his daughter. But he knew how much you needed your alone time. 

So they huddled, ‘awsiteng. They waited, ‘awsiteng. 

Until the light escaped the sky, and your raspy voice cut through the gentleness of the night.

"You can come in now, you didn't have to just wait outside. I'm sorry."

Jake looked to his family then, before they all slowly got up and made their way into the Mauri.

You were huddled in front of the fire, a blanket shrouding you as you blankly stared into the burning embers before you.

"Ma 'ite. You are not alone." Jake murmured as he sat by you, brushing away a stray strand of hair that had cast itself over your bloodshot and puffy eyes.

"I know." You acknowledged.

"Tsmuke, you are not alone." Lo'ak reiterated.

"Yes, I know." You acknowledged again, finally looking up at them as they all sat in a circle around the fire.

"‘Itetsyìp, you are never alone," Neytiri affirmed, having sat by your other side and giving your cheek a soft kiss.

"I know. Are you all trying to make me cry again?" You garbled, tears prickling in your eyes at the warmth you were receiving after giving them the cold shoulder.

"No, we aren't! I don't like it when you cry." Tuk remarked, jumping up from her spot and running over to you. Giving you a hug from behind as her little thumbs rubbed away the tears that began to stream down your face.

"Useless my ass! That shithead was so stupid to say tha-" It seemed Lo'ak was still hung up on what Ao'nung had said.

"Lo'ak!" You all chided, quiet laughter following.

Jake grinned down at you then, his teeth even showing a little as he watched his pride and joy laugh. "Baby girl, we mean it. We're all in this together…‘awsiteng." 

"‘Awsiteng." You repeated, smiling up at him. 

He combed through your hair, bringing you and Tuk into his chest.

"And you're right. You need some alone time, yeah? But we'll always be right around the corner. Okay?" Jake continued to reassure you, rubbing your shoulder - or what part he could reach since Tuk wouldn't let go of you still.

"Okay." You mumbled, arms wrapping around his shoulders and squeezing. 

The pieces that felt so scattered and displaced suddenly puzzled back together.

This is home. Not the forest, not the ocean, not the mauri you all resided in.

As chatter overtook the silence, your parents began to cook up a late dinner. Your eyes met Neteyam's who sat directly parallel to you - he gave you a dorky thumbs up. Your little sign between each other that Jake had mentioned in passing that sky people do when you were younger, "Hey, are you okay?"

You returned it with your own equally as dorky thumbs up, earning a questionable look from your mother who after all these years - still could not fully grasp the concept.

This is home, the family that would always accept and love you through the toughest of times. Your family, that always made you feel whole. Complete.

As Neteyam yipped happily at your thumbs up, unable to hold his happiness under wraps. You thought then,

"Eywa, there is no other place I'd rather be."

࿐ ࿔*:･ﾟ˳೫˚

𝐁𝐎𝐍𝐔𝐒 :

As your family began to prepare to sleep, Lo'ak tapped your shoulder. 

You turned to him, giving him a questioning gaze.

"Yes, Tsmukan?" 

He opened your hands before a familiar unfinished project was placed gently in them.

"I tried to dry it outside, I don't know how salvageable it'll be but I am willing to help. I know Tsireya really likes- oomph!"

You stood on your tippy toes, tugging him in to a gracious embrace. 

He smiled then, hands wrapping around you as he swayed you two from side to side.

"I appreciate it so much, thank you brother." 

𝒇𝒍𝒆𝒖𝒓𝒔𝒃𝒆𝒏𝒅𝒊𝒏𝒈 ━━━ 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟑

⤷ feedback and reblogs are always much appreciated ! feel free to ask through my inbox if you would like to join my taglist. ♡

[jinnieblue]

swinging through — peter parker *TEASER*

summary: her whole teen life had revolved around her dorky next-door neighbor, Peter Parker but that was five years ago, now, at twenty, she’s got her eyes set on a new bo—no, man; Spider-Man.

warning: minor age gap (three years), suggestive themes (reader likes the mask), mentions of blood/injuries, angst with a happy ending, not actually unrequited love, fem pronouns used, nicknames used instead of y/n, kinda sarcastic!reader,

theme song: another soul-mico

teaser wc: 300

a/n: it’s my first time posting on here in years, but i had to contribute to the small amount of insomniac spiderman fics (i need more). this will probably be a 2-3 part series, please be patient! I’ll post the first part soon but here is a small teaser! reblogs/likes/comments are appreciated! can be imagined as any peter but im writing with video game peter in mind so minor spoiler warning if you haven’t played any of the games? some spelling mistakes

Out of eight million people who lived in New York, of course, only this would happen to her.

Being held hostage in a crappy store with two other people, that is.

All she had wanted to do was get a bag of cat litter, due to running out the night before but here she is, sitting down in a mystery liquid she’d rather not be in, and with the cow villain(she cannot get over the cow ears he was wearing) pacing back and forth in front of her.

“Uhm, if you let me go, I swear I won't tell anyone. Pinky promise!” she had held a pinky up from her now-freed hands. It had been easier to untie herself due to the crappy knot they did.

“Didn't I tie your ha—never mind! No, he's on his way already and then I’ll extricate revenge!” The cow villain exclaims.

Who was on their way? Was it one of the Avengers, or Fantastic Four? Or was it Spider-Man?

In all honesty, she was getting kind of excited, of all of the heroes in New York, she had never encountered him.

She had lived in Harlem for the past three years and had only seen him swing by her window.

“Revenge for what exactly? Also, what is your name? I just keep calling you cow villain in my mind.”

“No one has ever asked for my name,” the villain seemed to tear up a bit before continuing,” it’s Cow-Median.”

She tried to choke back her laugh.

“Sorry.” She cleared her throat.

“No worries, you’re fine!” Cow-Median smiles and then becomes serious.

“And for revenge,” Cow-Median paused for a dramatic effect, “well, it’s because he’s obviously a meat eater!”

…

What?

That’s when the red and blue hero burst into the store where she was being held hostage.

[ggidolsmuts]

Shopping - ARTMS Jinsoul

"Hey there." Jinsol's voice floats into your ears as you wake up from your nap on the sofa.

"Oh, you're back. How was shopping with Yerim and Jungeun?"

"Good." Jinsol drawls in that airy tone of hers. "We got a lot of new stuff."

"Did you get your Air Force One sneakers?"

"Mmhmm, we got the last pairs!"

"That's great, anything for me?" You joke, getting into a sitting position and stretching with a satisfied sigh—it was a good nap! You smell the faint scent of Jinsol's shampoo as she leans over the sofa and wraps her arms around you.

"You got meeeeee~" She peppers you with kisses.

"I know I know. Do you need any help with the bags?"

"No no, I have it all sorted out." Jinsol gives you one last peck before leaving you to sink back into the sofa. You're back to lying on the sofa and scrolling through your phone before you hear Jinsol call out.

"Oppa, can you come over here?"

"Coming!" You push off the sofa and go to the bedroom, and you're glad you left your phone in the living room, because you would have dropped it. Jinsol's wearing the tiniest little black dress.

"I got this for you, thought you might like to see it." She poses, bringing her hands behind her back, and you see just how tightly the night-shaded fabric hugs her figure. The thin straps contrasts her skin perfectly before it slightly stretches around her chest. It tapers back down her toned tummy, flares around her hips, and ends shortly after, perfectly not hiding her thighs. Dorky as she normally is, Jeong Jinsol can be downright lethal. "How is it?"

"Umm, umm, ummm..." Your mouth is dry as she walks towards you alluringly. "G-Good?" you croak your answer in the form of a question. Jinsol takes your hand and brings to her shoulder—almost naturally you slip it underneath her strap.

"Do you want to try taking it off me?" She reverts to her teasing playful tone, and you look to play in a different sense. You wrap an arm around her waist and pull her close—Jinsol dangles her hands off your neck, but she curves backwards against your arm, keeping just a little distance yet.

"Jeong Jinsol, what are you doing?" you ask her rhetorically, your hand already sliding a strap off her.

"Jindori wants to play~" She squishes your face between her hands, but actually she's pulling herself to you for a kiss. The two of you are laughing and kissing at the same time, easily bouncing on to the bed. As she slips her arm through one side you are removing the strap from her other shoulder.

"You got this while thinking of me?" You whisper, sucking on her earlobe before leaving a mark on her neck. "Naughty girl."

"Ah! It was right there, just hanging in the shop. It looked so small, yet it fit me! I wondered how it would look hanging in our wardrobe, in which case... What would I be wearing then?"

"Nothing," your voice escapes you as a growl, and as you pull the dress off Jinsol you are proven right—she was wearing nothing underneath. "Really?" Jinsol smiles and takes off your t-shirt before removing your shorts, and soon you are just as naked as she is. You kiss and moan into her ear as she runs a nude leg up and down yours, lightly wrapping around your hip.

"I also got some lingerie from Victoria's Secret, but that's for next time. It's very revealing." She tickles your ear with a kiss. "And it was on sale too."

"God I love you." You give her a peck before kissing down her delectable neck, taking extra time on the spots you know she likes—you were going to treat her extra nicely.

"Ah haha it tickles, mmm!" Light kisses on her breasts go from ticklish to pleasurable quickly as you palm and squeeze them at the same time. The low husky breath she releases when you take a nipple into your mouth is heavenly, and you play with it a bit more before moving down. Jinsol's tummy twitches as you plant kisses down her midriff—ticklish at first, they quickly become pleasurable as you inch closer to the apex between her thighs. Slowly you spread her blooming lips with your tongue, licking one side and then the other. Soft husky moans escape her, her body heat increasing by the moment—you feel it all too well as her thighs close around you, long legs crossing around the back of your neck.

Your tongue coaxes her nub out, shortly followed by her juices on the flat of your tongue. Jinsol's moans come in hitches and gasps, as if trying to keep up with you. You watch her fall back on the bed, her hands finding yours on her hips—it is another gauge for you to use, to figure out how good she's feeling. As far as you can tell, she's feeling pretty good, her nails digging into the back of your hand and her heels doing the same on your back. She humps herself slightly on your lips, so you delve into Jinsol just a little more.

"Ah ah oppa, gonna— mmph!" She muffles herself on the pillow as you instantly switch to her clit, kissing and sucking on it. The jolt of pleasure throws her off and over the edge, a low moan followed by delicate breaths as her thighs tremble around you. Her groans' loudness match the intensity you apply on her nub, and slowly they soften into satisfied mewls.

"Thanks oppa—"

"I'm not done." Reluctantly your hands push her thighs to the sides—you wouldn't be trapped between them anymore, but it did give you a better angle to tonguefuck her. Jinsol bites her lower lip, your tongue twisting and thrusting inside her a prelude to what would happen later. She sighs and gives in, sinking into the bed as she reaches for her own breasts, titillating herself a little more with kneads and squeezes. You eat Jinsol eagerly, tonguing her just deep enough that she tries to push herself further on you. When you think she's had enough teasing you replace your tongue with your fingers, feeding her something more substantial.

"Oh, oh mmm!" You rotate your fingers in her and Jinsol rotates with them, twisting her hips into the bed. She spreads her legs just a little more, urging you to go deeper—you curl your fingers inside her, and now she's letting out small whines. You try to keep your lips attached to her, but her wild movements make it hard, so you settle for kissing her thighs where you could, sucking her skin and leaving marks all over the insides of her thighs—she'll have to wear a longer skirt tomorrow. Her hips begin to jerk in rhythm with with your fingers, and you keep them plugged, allowing Jinsol to hump your hand, grinding her clit on your palm. With a loud husky moan she comes undone swiftly, bucking herself, trying to throw your overstimulating hand off to no avail. You keep your hand pressed firmly between her legs until she whines and slaps the bed in delicious agony—the pressure is released, and Jinsol sighs and goes limp on the bed, her pussy weakly clinging to your fingers as you remove them.

"Good?" you ask her, laying next to her.

"Mm very good, give me a moment." Lazily she reaches down your body, rubbing your erection slowly, almost massaging your cock to warm it up. At first her smile is sweet—Jinsol is glowing as the chemicals of orgasm run through her brain, but eventually the smile turns naughtier and cheekier as she strokes you, lips curling at your breaths and gasps. "I want to be on top."

"Sure." You roll to her side and lay down, ready for her to mount you, but surprisingly Jinsol turns around, giving you the best view of her ass rather than her pretty face as she backs herself up a little and sits on your hips. You can't see what she's doing, but you certainly feel her wrap two hands around you, pressing your shaft against her slick folds.

"Mmm, mm..." You hear yourself moan as your tip pushes her open, and Jinsol sinks down on your cock, each inch disappearing at a slow rate until you're fully sheathed inside her.

"Good oppa?" Jinsol emphasizes the question with a squeeze of her muscles.

"Yeah, you feel so good." She giggles before fixing you with a deadly gaze.

"I hope you can hold on then." You are mesmerized as Jinsol begins to move, half bouncing, half twerking herself on to top of you, up and down and back and forth. Her cheeks jiggled only lightly at first, but soon they intensified as the clash of flesh on flesh became louder, as did your moans. Soon her thighs were flexing too, trying to throw herself on your cock harder, to throw herself off the precipice faster.

More, more, more! That is the only thought going through Jinsol's head, but try as she might she can't quite get there—gravity can only do so much for her. She begins to feel the burn, her legs complaining—it's one thing to squat and flex on stage, it's another to repeat it thoroughly, all while filling herself with cock. Her riding slows down, her slams reducing to bounces and grinds. Her hands brace on your legs, and you wrap an arm around her waist and pull her backwards.

"I can take over."

"Are you close?" Jinsol turns to kiss your jaw, asking you in her slow sexy pace. She spreads her legs further, and squirms a little, sinking deeper on to your cock. You hold her more tightly, one hand on her breast, the other on her midriff to keeping her steady.

"Yeah, very." She takes your hand and slides it down her body, and her voice is low and needy, her hand pressing yours into her skin, just below her cute bellybutton.

"Make me cum with you, I want to cum together..." Jinsol buries her face in the crook of your neck, and her moans vibrate in time with your rhythm. She's even tighter around you as you press her hips to yours, but she's just as wet as she is tight, and you slide in and out of her easily. Your hand drifts down a little lower, finding her clit and rubbing it, and Jinsol begins to contract around you, squealing and whining at the odd circles you rub around it.

"C-Cum for me oppa, ahh! I'm going to cum!" Jinsol can barely hear the sound of your bodies coming together once more, her senses filled with your loud moans and her own vocals. You're thrusting up into her wildly now, and with a rough rub on her clit and a solid thump at her womb she cries out and arches her back. It is an intense orgasm, and it burns through her pleasure quickly, her mind floating back to reality even as you are still moaning in her ear. It allows her to discern one thing—the gooey liquid that's spurting and gathering in her.

"Oh! I can feel you cumming in me!" she gasps, but no one's there to hear it as you're still tense and rigid, going through your own climax and continuing to fire your load in her. Jinsol trembles in primal glee, gripping the sheets as the heat grows in her. She's limp, powerless on top of you as you continue to rut and grind.

"It's so much!" she moans and giggles, and all she can hear is your heavy breaths, your heartbeat pounding against her back. Her eyes roll slightly in her head as she is introduced to a new sensation. "Oh fuck, you're leaking out of me..." Your thick seed leaking out the sides tickle her sensitive skin, and if there was a mirror opposite the two of you it would show Jinsol in an utterly lewd position—her thighs open wantonly, marked with your kisses earlier; cum leaks from her thoroughly creampied hole, now flowing freely as you soften and slip out. You tighten your grip around her waist possessively, two lovers finally satisfied.

"Good?"

"Yeah, you came so much." Jinsol whispers as she feels herself leak with a finger. "You must have liked my black dress."

"Mm, I guess so." Jinsol turns around and the two of you kiss and cuddle in bed, your load slowly leaking on to her thighs and the sheets, but neither of you cared.

"Shower?"

"Sure, oh I should wear that lingerie I bought after!"

"Please no, maybe next time."

"Okay! Next time you can fill me up like this again! Carry me! Jindori can't walk because you went too hard on me!" You sigh and laugh at her cute-toned dirty talk before scooping her in your arms and taking her to the shower. Both of you would agree that Jinsol's shopping trip is definitely a success.

A/N: Something simple for a simple dress, their outfits look so good! Glad the members are landing on their feet. Thanks for reading!