#<- even if it wasn't a drawing OF you i did @ you you'll show up soon

[im-tempted]

Very bored today here's @stil-yr-sand s picrew guy thing

[dead-boys-club]

†  a seat : the fatui.

❥ scenario: their s/o decides to take up residence on their lap --- during a meeting. ❥ no triggers ❥ i don't have any beta readers - you get what you get. ❥ requested.

❥ la signora.

she wouldn't give much of a reaction, her eyebrow raising and a barely noticeable hint of amusement to her gaze. open affection isn't something she's keen to show, especially in a professional setting but she wouldn't make you move. if anything, she would just shift in her spot and adjust her posture to make sure you were comfortable, though her movements wouldn't be big enough to draw attention. she would enjoy your closeness but would remain as cold and composed as always. after the meeting is a different story. while she may not show too much emotion, she wouldn't try to hide the smirk as she approached you. 'you certainly know how to make a statement, don't you, darling?' she asked, reaching out to gently tip your chin up with her pointer finger, 'don't think you can distract me so easily.. you'll have to do better than that.' there was a clear affection and appreciation in her gaze, despite the words, honestly enjoying your boldness.

❥ scaramouche.

at first, he genuinely wouldn't even know how to respond, frozen for a split second before brushing it off, not wanting anyone to notice. he'd look at you, eyes flickering as if looking for an answer to your sudden actions. scara isn't one for such open displays of affection, or any at all, especially in such a formal setting - he would fight between irritation and silent, frustrated acceptance; he didn't want to cause a scene. 'what do you think you're doing?' he would hiss under his breath, leaning close to your ear, enough though he wasn't actually trying to remove you. he would be annoyed for the duration of the meeting, though just accepting your bold statement that he, quite honestly, didn't understand. oh boy, he'd be so fast to corner you, arms crossed and staring you down. 'what was that all about?' he demanded, though something was off - his tone didn't hold the same hate soaked bite it usually did; even his s/o had to deal with that. you could see the ghost of a blush on his features but you knew he'd never admit to being embarrassed. 'you're lucky no one said anything,' he muttered, the tiniest hint of softness forming in his gaze. he wasn't as upset as he wanted to seem.

❥ childe.

it shouldn't come as a surprise that he would be the most openly and unashamedly amused, of course, having no complaints. as soon as you took your place, a grin would form and he'd offer your head a soft nudge with his nose. 'comfortable?' he'd ask in a whisper, teasing as always but still loving. his arms found their own place around you, keeping you close. to childe, holding onto you came easy, automatically knowing how to shift so you were comfortable. he wouldn't be concerned a single bit about the others, the glances only making him grin further. he enjoyed showing off the relationship you had. he'd be pretty excited once the meeting ended, the grin never leaving his features, though softening into a smile once he approached you. 'you made it pretty hard for me to concentrate in there.. that was an important meeting,' he teased, arms wrapping around you once more to pull you closer; if you were honest, neither of you had heard a single word that was said. 'i'm not complaining, though,' he'd chuckled, pressing a kiss to your temple. he was just happy to have someone who was so open to show him affection.

❥ dottore.

as annoyed as he'd be, he'd also be curious. were you testing him? were you crazy? had you.. taken something? he'd really be at a loss, especially as someone who wasn't exactly one for public displays of affection - meeting or otherwise. he would view your actions as a distraction and wonder just what kind of statement you were trying to make. 'this better be worth the interruption,' he muttered, adjusting his posture to accommodate you, shifting his focus back to the meeting. he would occasionally glance to you, jaw clenching as he tried figuring you out. once the meeting was over and you dismissed yourself, only to be closely followed by him. 'what exactly were you trying to achieve?' he asked, hand taking hold of your jaw to lift your head, though his touch wasn't as rough as you expected it to be. you only blinked and shook your head. there was a shift to his usual demeanor, something a little softer, letting you know he wasn't as displeased as you thought. 'you should know better than to disrupt my focus,' he added, leaning closer to you, eyes searching your own, 'you truly are a strange little creature..'

❥ arlecchino.

she would spare you a glance, expression unreadable as it always was. you taking a place on her lap wouldn't cause even the slightest of budge to her composed nature - you would have to do a lot more for that to happen. she does, however, rest a possessive hand on your hip, making sure to keep you close. there would be no open acknowledgement of your actions but she would make sure you were comfortable, attention never leaving the meeting. all you really needed though were her actions; the quiet protectiveness, even in such a formal place. once the meeting ended, you wouldn't be leaving your spot, held steady by her. she would wait for everyone to leave before speaking, 'that was quite bold,' she spoke quietly, a hint of approval to her tone, 'but you should know others may not be so understanding.' as she spoke, she got closer to your ear, offering your hip a gentle squeeze. arle knew very well how to stake her claim and the last thing she needed was for someone to misunderstand your easy show of affection.

❥ columbina.

like childe, she would have no issues with your gesture, even allowed a soft smile to grace her features. the two of you were known to play your little games and would see this as a simple, easy thing on your part. there would be no words but a soft hum of acknowledgement in the back of her throat. columbina would have no concerns when it came to the others, her attention easily balanced between the meeting and your presence. as she listened, she may let her arms loosely rest around you, head resting on your shoulder. once the meeting ended, she'd just tilt her head to nose gently at your shoulder. 'could you not have waited until after the meeting?' she mused, tone light. she wasn't one to make a big deal of anything, being considerably nonchalant about most things, brushing them off. 'next time, let's save the affection for when we're alone, yes?' she wasn't upset or bothered at all, she enjoyed the question affection, but she preferred keeping gentle, intimate moments to be in the privacy of your rooms.

❥ pantalone.

being the master of maintaining appearances, it came as no surprise that panta would remain composed, his expression calm and pleasant. not many things managed to crack his image, even you and your risky gestures. he continued to participate in the meeting with ease, a hand sliding to settle at your lower back, pulling you closer. 'how reckless of you,' he whispered, the brief show of a smirk evident against the shell of your ear, tone amused. he would enjoy the moment, all while keeping up his perfect little facade. there would be an amused glint to his eyes as he approached you after saying his farewell to the others. 'you realize the kind of attention such actions might draw, don't you?' he questioned, his tone giving no indication of being upset or annoyed with you. 'not that i mind, of course.. it certainly keeps things interesting.' panta was aways aware of appearances and his surroundings, as well as those around him. he would never openly express displeasure with your affection to him, but he'd make sure you understood. 'just be careful, my love.. not everyone will be as forgiving.'

❥ il capitano.

words are not something capitano needs to use often, his imposing presence often speaking for him. even with a mask on, his expression wouldn't change as you silently settled onto his lap - he also knew no one else would make the mistake of saying something to him about it. he wouldn't push you away or show signs of disapproval, he would actually rest a hand on your side, adjusting to accommodate you. he isn't one for grand gestures or openly displaying affection and his hold on you simply sat as a protective claim, however, him allowing you to keep your place during such a time would speak volumes of the trust he shares with you. he would continue as if you'd always been there, his grip on you tightening and loosening upon the subject shifts of the meeting. you didn't bother to move when the meeting ended, knowing he wouldn't let you slip away so easily. once everyone was gone, he spoke, tone low and calm. 'what was all this for?' he asked, though no annoyance or accusation to his words. he was genuinely asking. you knew a head shake wasn't exactly an answer but he accepted it, watching you closely. 'just be mindful of the setting next time,' he commented, this time soft yet firm, letting you knew the actions weren't unwanted but the timing wasn't proper. he was considerably reserved in nature but he appreciated your little moments of affection.

[anantaru]

I HATE EVERYONE BUT YOU

— ꒰ synopsis ꒱ — scaramouche has always been yours, yet he needs you to know that you'll always be his no matter what— even when you get all flustered while he shows you.

— ꒰ a/n ꒱ — in scaramouche we what?

— ꒰ wordcount ꒱ — 1.7k

— ꒰ warnings ꒱ — [ns]fw, fem! reader, jealous! reader, dom scara, rough sex but very passionate, scara hates everyone but you, slightly possessive scara, spitting, cumming inside of you

"you have nothing to worry about,"

"stop thinking about it and look at me," fingers gracefully trace on your bare skin, "because i need you to realize," drawing all sorts of shapes into your searing flesh, like subtle curves into your ribs, "that you'll never get rid of me," and lines dragging across your stomach when scaramouche's hand ultimately settles on your hips.

your stomach does flips at his words, and a fresh tide of relief cuts through your initial doubts. he grins and clicks his tongue, eyes dancing with amusement when he catches your shyness, "hm? what's up with you? where's this pretty voice of yours now?" and that smile, ugh, he cannot help himself but irritate you abundantly, especially when he knows how you'd react to his words.

"shut up," you hiss, "don't do that,"

"do what?" he cocks a brow, "—that?" he breathes, boldly as his thumb rolls over your clit in slow circles. the fire in his eyes was hard to miss and when he feels your body react to his loving trace, he's more than happy to indulge in those waves of lust— most notably show you that he'll never go away.

"fuck—" you whine, "you're mean," and you find out that his thoroughly chosen words would end up adding fuel to the looming wildfire burning between you both, the two of you high on the tension and rush smoldering the air.

and scaramouche's confessions were driving you into a spiral.

"careful there," he coos, "take it slow," for him, there was no competition, and even if there was a competition, you're not in it. you're above everything. you're perfect, no one could ever set his heart ablaze like you did.

scaramouche hums, "you're stuck with me." he candidly bites down on your bottom lip, "okay?" when you nod vigorously at him, your hips leaving the bed as your back arches into his digits, your hands finding immediate comfort in his hair as you tug softly at his roots to press his lips on yours.

scaramouche was pretty when he looked at you like that, kissed you like he needed you to survive— dreamily while flushed, his cheeks seething with scarlet redness when he inhales deeply for a moment.

but he's not used to all of this, and he didn't like the fact that you could become jealous sometimes— after all, humans suffer more in imagination rather than in reality, and you have nothing to worry about, scaramouche certainly thought he made that very much clear.

but he's embarrassed, although not because of the fact that he might've gotten too close to someone who wasn't you and experienced regret, which, in fact, wasn't possible.

he simply cannot stand anybody besides you.

truth be told, he's a little annoyed that you forgot about the fact that he wasn't a big talker per se, he even actively chose his schedule so he wouldn't see a lot of people, or anyone for that matter. scaramouche never sought out to make any meaningful friendships with the people of the akademiya as well— despite the god of wisdom helplessly attempting to push him out of his comfort zone.

with that out of the way, the real reason as to why scaramouche was embarrassed was quite silly, because it's due to what your jealousy did to him— fuck, he finds it beyond attractive, yet he refuses to acknowledge that a special heat conquered his chest like that, reaching his groin until he couldn't think straight.

there's a delicate challenge in your ways of reacting when he tells you that you mustn't be jealous, and scaramouche drinks it like water— he knows you're everything he's ever wished for, like ice cream on a hot summer day, you're melting his heart.

he nuzzles into your skin to inhale your scent, leaves soft kisses on your cheekbones while holding your jaw, making you look directly at him.

does he need to show you that he's utterly addicted to you? so, do you require it like a challenge of sorts? because archons, he'll do it, easy work easy done.

to note, it's not scaramouche's fault that people want to talk to him and are curious about the new addition to the akademiya— yet he doesn't like them, it's pestering when they get too close to him as well, ask if he could talk a little more about where he was coming from because they wanted to be nice, civil but end up making him scoff with a roll of his eyes.

enjoying his own company was fine to scaramouche— and he always found himself fantasizing about you all the time, particularly about your soft laughs and candid smiles, your voice, your stories and your understanding was like a sweet melody to the wanderer, and he could indulge in it during his breaks, before he needed to finish a mission, or he could imagine it every single night before he'd fall asleep to the thought of you.

your body was rubbing against his now, sweat colliding as he removes his fingers from your cunt and wraps them around his erection, pretty dark lashes accentuating his flaring cheekbones while you loop your arms around him— parting your legs a little so he could easily slide himself in.

scaramouche gently adds pressure on your tight hole before moving his hips, but it's slow— gentle and delicate that you can feel every crevice of his length in you.

a soft moan rips from his throat as you mold around him easily, feeling him attentively as he traces the thick vein along the side of your walls as your hips twitch at the slight sting deep in your abdomen.

scaramouche was as desperate as ever to show you his love through physical attention— and the word shame didn't seem to find a place in his phraseology when he forces your gaze back under his. "open and stick your tongue out," he taps, once twice, against your lips with his thumb, "wanna taste me, right? so do it now," while keeping his throbbing dick buried inside as he purposefully moves his hips a little to make you squeal.

you cannot help the way your lips curve into a smile before you're parting your lips, applauding his efforts to claim you. it's merciless when he bundles the saliva budding in his mouth before spitting on your tongue, his crystalline eyes open to catch your tremble— how can he not indulge in this? you're nothing short of perfect, pleading for him to give you more.

"show me," he commands further, groaning deep into his chest when he looks at his saliva melting with your own and how it's dribbling from your chin, his length twitching rapidly as you try to steady your breathing at the sinful scenario you're living through.

scaramouche's hands clench at your waist as he fucks you as passionate as he can, his cock pressing against the overstimulated bud in your pussy before starting slow circles with his hips, your mouth huffing out candid i love you's amidst your moans.

inch by inch he slides into you, in and out in rapid movements, the more you take the better it felt having him rub your pleasure spots he so desperately desired to feel suck on his shaft and milk the cum out of his cock. he finds it cute when your face suddenly scrunches up if he moves faster than previous, your jaw parting in awe at how much better it felt the more he upped his tempo to batter your sore pussy.

it feels good— it always does, and if being a little jealous here and there would always result in this, than you'd gladly play your part as much as he needed it. it's almost like you don't hear yourself moaning and spell out honeyed praises, too occupied to indulge on the way scaramouche rolled along your walls and the noises of his balls colliding on your skin over and over.

"fuck— you're gonna make me cum fast," scaramouche gasps, dragging his sensitive cock through you like you're made for him, as if it just fits and he doesn't need to prep you, which he in fact, really enjoyed doing as well.

frankly, nothing tasted as good as your pussy rubbing across his mouth.

one hand leaves your hips before he gives your clit a little attention, pressing through the curtains that protected your sensitive pearl as he rubs your slick over the sensitivity, smirking devilishly when you arch your back off the mattress and begin to shake, your walls spasming while being so perfect when milking his cock, your pussy dripping with slick as he toys with your clit.

you cry out a sound between a broken sob and sharp moan of his name and that's when scaramouche knows you're close too— swift when he drags his hand from your clit to intertwine his digits with your own as he fucked you into the bed, your pussy pulsing around him as your eyes scrunch shut when you reach your high, falling slack against the bed and whining out shortly when he warms you with the weight of his body.

"fuck— shit!," his hips faster, his breath quicker, "you're fuckin mine, mine, mine," scaramouche falls apart,  panting against your ear and groaning lowly, his erection pulsing while constricted by your walls as he holds his cock deeply buried in you before thrusting back and forth once, twice, three more times as he spills his load into your pussy— his warm seed setting your belly on fire by how perfect it felt to be claimed in such lewd, passionate way.

"fuck," he breathes, "gonna stay like that for a bit,"

archons, it's so sticky— borderline filthy and shameless with every intention of it being like that. your tits were still bouncing up and down from the following, last thrusts of him pumping his precious cum into your hole and making sure not a single drop gets lost midway.

after a while of collecting your breathing and turning it evenly again, you giggle out, finding his darkened hair strands as you greet him with a wet, sloppy kiss, "wanna join me for a shower later?" you mumble, eyes half-lidded as he hums softly into your lips, "mhm, or i'll decline so you'll get mad at me, right?"

"i will bite you," you threaten, shaking slightly as he pulls himself out without warning to expose his drenched cock being weaved with your slick, the filthy mixture dripping along your inner thighs,

"please do, "i'm counting on it," scaramouche ends with a wink.

©2024 anantaru do not repost, copy, translate, modify, claim as your own

[reiderwriter]

♡ Girls Just Wanna Have Fun ♡

Week 5 of my Playlist Series ♡

Summary: Spencer isn't used to clubs, but when duty calls, he's made to feel a little bit more welcome by a girl who seems to know him better than a stranger should.

Warnings: Smut 18+ Minors DNI!! Hotchner!Reader (Reader is Hotch's sister), semi-public sex (x2 oops), oral sex (m receiving), fingering, dry humping, hand job, cum play, dirty talk, degradation and name calling (slut only), use of daddy/sir even though this is like solidly season 1 Spencer lmao, corruption kink, loss of virginity (surprisingly the readers)

A/N: Every single intrusive thought I've ever had about s1 Reid tied up in a nice little bow masquerading as a song fic. It is finished, and now I feel flushed. Please expect only fluff from me until my next intrusive thought (maybe half an hour, probably no longer).

Masterlist || Spotify Playlist

Flashing lights and the scent of dried up alcohol stains weren't usually signs of Spencer Reid's presence. He'd managed to get through college - two degrees and three PhDs - without stepping foot into a nightclub. But now that he'd joined the BAU, it seemed to be an unavoidable occurrence. 

“The unsub hunts at this nightclub, I get that, I do. But why am I the one going in? He's targeting women,” he panicked as his older team member helped adjust his clothes to conceal the weapon he carried. 

“Because, pretty boy, it's student night, and you're the only one here who can pass for a 21 year old. I guess late puberty has some benefits.” Derek smacked his arm playfully, leaving the younger man wincing slightly. 

“But I'm not a woman.” 

“Yes, but you'll be able to walk around and note any suspicious behaviour, and then we can tail suspects you flag,” Hotch explained to him again. 

“Just act natural, kid, it's not like it's your first time in a club.” 

“It is.” His warnings fell on deaf ears though, as they pushed him out of the van and into the crowd of students queueing to enter. 

It didn't take you long to notice him after you arrived at the club.

The sweater vest was enough to make him stand apart slightly, as much as he was trying his best to blend in. A slight tingle of familiarity raced up your spine as his eyes awkwardly met yours, his scan of the room stopping short as he flushed and turned his eyes down. 

Pushing slightly to the crowd, you leaned over the counter next to him and tried to get the bartenders attention. It was loud and busy, but catching attention and keeping it was a skill you'd mastered early, a skill that you were thankful for as you realised the man's eyes were guiltily flicking between your ass and the crowd once again. 

“Are you going to stare, or are you going to introduce yourself,” you giggled, sliding closer to his perch at the bar, as he panicked, standing straighter. 

“I wasn't, um… your dress, there's a rip at the edge of your skirt, I was trying to figure out if it was part of the design because I know some clothes these days have damage built into the design, or if it was in need of some emergency… sewing.” His hands gesticulating awkwardly throughout his explanation, as if anxious to show you the jumble in his brain was entirely pure and innocent, even as the flush on his face said otherwise. 

“And your name is?” 

“I-.... Spencer. My name is Spencer.” 

You stood a little straighter hearing the name, that familiarity warming you more. Spencer. Spencer. Spencer. You turned the name over in your head but took another step closer as the crowd shifted in a wave, feeling the heat coming off his body. 

“Well, Spencer,” your tongue made the decision to act for your brain, the words coming out before you could stop them. “What conclusion did you draw? Do you think the rip was intentional or not?” 

Gently, you grabbed his hand and led it to the fabric. The skirt wasn't scandalously short, but short enough to suit the dark heated atmosphere of the club at least, but as his fingers grazed the back of your thighs, still hesitant in his actions, you found yourself wishing it were just that bit higher, so his hands would have to reach further up. 

With a gaze over your shoulder at the crowd, Spencer found himself at an impass. He'd already noted a few people of interest, loiterers, men getting a bit rough and aggressive in the club, people on the outskirts (like him, he supposed) that could possibly be their unsub. 

He'd been given the all clear to disengage and leave the club as effortlessly as he could  bit something in your initial gaze had pinned him to place at the bar, and refused still to let him see reason. 

“I think it's a design feature. To draw attention to…” he swallowed hard, but you weren't sure if he was just being delicate about his words or if he was reacting to the hand that was now on him, dragging nails up from his abdomen to his chest. 

“Good observation, Spencer.” 

“Your name. You didn't tell me what your name was.” He said, grabbing your hand to stop its progress and breathing deeply as if to clear his head. 

“Y/N. We should dance.” Without giving him time to react, you abandoned your drink on the counter and pulled his arm around your waist, dragging him out to the crush of people in the middle of the dance floor. 

His protests were lost in the pulse of the music, as you kept your back to him and began grinding and swaying against him. His hands tightened on your hips as he gently started moving with you, and you threw your head back to catch his eye again. 

Spencer didn't know what he'd gotten himself into. He knew that very little actually dancing actually went on at a club, that this was just a more polite socially acceptable form of foreplay, but he didn't know that it would have such an effect on him. 

A mess of sweaty, intoxicated people spilling drinks and other fluids, and he thought he'd stay there forever if it kept your hips torturing his cock like that. 

When you glanced up at him, he was a man lost to his senses, lust clouding his eyes, mouth slightly open in a pant, you reached up to his neck and pulled his lips down to meet yours. 

You were surprised when it was his to guess to reach out first, his hand that trailed under your shirt without tours guiding it. You'd picked up a fairly innocent man at the bar and turned him into a pervert in the space of one dance. It felt like the club was watching you, how his hands grazed the skin under your breasts and caused the shiver up your spine, how your back arched to press deeper against his election. 

You may have tempted him into taking this risk, but he was the one gleefully nosediving into his fall from grace. 

“Spencer,” you whispered as he came up for air, lips resting at your ear. “I think we should get some fresh air.” 

Something in that seemed logical. It was colder outside. Maybe it would cool off whatever had lit him up like a pyre on the dance floor. Maybe the fresh air would clear his head. Or maybe just the open space would help him detangle his hands from you, would lead his thoughts away from burying himself deep in you. 

He would gladly take you outside, bid you farewell, and return to his job and his life. It was a solid exit for his first cover - who was going to question the young lovers leaving together. 

You had a feeling that the idea of outside would have Spencer pulling away from you, but you hadn't had your fill of fun just yet. 

So just as you led him onto the dancefloor, you kept a hand over his, around your waist, and you guided him out of the club, down the street a few paces, and into a darkened alleyway. 

“Y/N, we shouldn't be-” he tried to stutter out as you pulled him in for another kiss. His brain was trying to protest, but his hands were already back on your ass, pulling you up and closer to him. 

“What was that?” You said between kisses, his mouth launching an assault against each inch of your skin. 

He gasped for breath and pulled back, realising that he'd lifted and pinned you to the cold brick wall of the alley in his haste to feel you pressed against him. 

“Y/N… I don't want to take advantage of you, I'm not-” 

“I'm taking advantage of you, Spencer,” you said, nipping at his neck slowly raking your hands into his shoulders. “Am I allowed to do that? Can I take all of you, Spencer?” 

His eyes rolled back in his head as he let put a groan of pleasure, your lips sucking at the tender flesh of his nape. 

“I-I'm not a student, and-” 

“I know, but you are such a pretty boy that I decided I wanted to have some fun with you.” 

His resolve broke in half as you uttered your compliments, and his lips met yours in a moan as his hands pushed your skirt up around your waist. 

His finger trailed between your hips and his, using the wall to balance you as he pushed aside your panties and began slowly stroking your sex. 

Your hips pitched forward to press more of his slender fingers against you,  desperate to feel him stretch your cunt open first with one, then two, then however many he decided was good enough for you. 

Leaving one hand on his shoulder, you let one trail down his pants, stepping one foot down to allow you access to his zipper. 

He pauses Again for a second as you manage to get his pants open, your hand pulling his cock free from the constraint of his clothing. Spitting on your hand, you wrap around it firmly and slowly pump up and down, looking him directly in the eye as you watch the pleasure pour over him. 

His forehead rests against yours as he melts into your touch, so desperate, needing to cum so badly that he's willing to let it happen in this dark dirty alley. 

“Spencer, I want to have a lot of fun with you. Will you let me?” 

“Yes, fuck Y/N.” He nods, his hips rocking into your hand with each slow stroke you give him. 

“Spencer,” you say, rocking your hips forward and pushing your panties further to the side once again. “Spencer, please fuck me. Take my virginity, Spencer, please.” 

His mind whirled at the sentence, the pleas dropping from your lips. Virginity. You were a virgin. 

You'd had him cock stiff after three minutes of conversation  had pulled him into an alleyway and lost him in a fog of pleasure, and you were still innocent. Untouched. 

You wanted to have your fun with him. You'd chosen him. 

He couldn't articulate the lust that coated his tongue, so he simply pushed it into your mouth  grabbed his cock from your hands, lined himself up with your drippy cunt and pushed in with a single thrust. 

You gasped and let out a moan, not quite fully pleasurable. Your hands again found his shouldend, his back, but your nails were sharper this time, digging in further, almost piercing skin. 

“Fuck, Spencer, yes,” you said, breathing shakily as you slowly started moving around his cock. 

“Did it hurt?” 

“It doesn't hurt anymore. Now, please Spencer, fuck me and don't hold back. It's more fun that way.” 

He pulled your hips closer, moaning as you tightened around him. Pressing one hand against the wall and keeping another hand gripped so hard around your hip you knew it'd bruise, he began moving. 

He began slow, trying not to lose himself in the feel of your unused, tight hole. But with each small moan, each scratch against his back, he lost a little bit more of that control he was begging for. 

With his hands engaged, his brows furrowed I'm frustration that he couldn't stroke your bundle of nerves, he couldn't force you to cum on his cock as quickly as he wanted to. 

“Y/N, look at me.” You opened your eyes at the words, unaware that they'd closed tight as you emptied all other senses to just feel him. 

“Touch yourself. Right there, that's it,” he watched your fingers rub delicately against your skin, spoke little words of encouragement, and told you to increase your speed and pleasure. 

“That's it. That's it, now it's time for you to cum, Y/N. Cum on my cock, rub your little clit for me and cum around my big cock, Y/N.” 

“Shit… shit, shit, shit, Spencer, oh my god.” Your hands shook, and your hips twitched, and with a cry, you reached that high you'd been craving since you met his eyes earlier. 

He pulled out of you, slowly pulling you off the wall, as he held you up, letting your legs regain their strength. His cock was still hard, still coated in your arousal as he took care of you. 

You caught your breath fast, regained tour strength quicker as you noticed he didn't plan on getting himself off anymore. He let you have your fun with him and was happy to end it all there. 

You weren't. 

“Spencer,” you sang again, wrapping a hand once again around his erection as he tried to straighten out your now slightly more ripped skirt. “Spencer, it's more fun of we both cum. I want you to make a mess of my hand, can you do that for me?” 

You stroked his cock with a firmer grip than before, your arousal lubricating each stroke, his pre-cum mingling with it to aid you further. You suddenly wondered what he would taste like, but knew your legs would be too weak to do everything your heart desired today. 

There was always tomorrow. 

He leaned his weight back on the wall behind you, forcing you back as well as you pumped him quickly so desperate to hear him moan your name as he spilt his seed. 

“Y/N,” he moaned, and you were triumphant. His hips jerked once, then twice, then a third time, and he stilled, heaving breaths as he buried his head in your shoulder. 

He swallowed and regained his breath, and as he pulled away, you pulled your fingers to your lips and lapped up the final drops of cum that he left there. 

Most of it had his the wall, dripped to the floor, but you enjoyed these few drops and smiled brightly at him, pulling a handkerchief that you knew would be in his pocket out and cleaning the two of you up. 

He flushed again as he came back to his senses, especially as you attempted to put his clothed to rights, stepping back to replace his softening cock in his pants.

“Well,” you said after setting yourself to rights, “Thank you for the fun night, Spencer. See you tomorrow.” 

You skipped off quickly before he had a second to even process your words. 

The next day at the local precinct was a blur for Spencer as he tried to drag himself from the drug induced haze of meeting you. He'd stroked himself to completion two more times in bed after he returned to his motel room, reliving the sound of you begging him to take you, the words ‘pretty boy’ on your lips as you spread your legs. 

It'd taken his entire brain, or what was left of it, to not jump out of his skin every time Morgan had teased him with the words that morning.

“Now how did you like your first club experience, pretty boy? Did any college cuties throw themselves at you?” 

He spat up his coffee, choosing that moment to choke, and begging god for this to just be the end of Spencer Reid entirely. 

Because there was no way Morgan would actually believe that that was exactly what had happened. 

“Morgan, Gideon wants you in the interrogation room, and- wow, Spencer, you should change your shirt. What are you, 5? You can't drink coffee properly?” Elle said, chuckling slightly.

“I choked,” he frowned, but it fell on deaf ears as his teammates walked away quickly to get back to their jobs. 

He wished he could recover so quickly, even now the image of you having your fun with him the night before playing like a movie in his head. 

Looking down, he realised Elle was right, and he really did need to change his shirt. Hotch always had a few spare on hand, even for cases out of the office. He grabbed some tissues, dabbing against the mess of coffee on his shirt, suddenly thankful for lukewarm police precinct coffee, and started making his way towards Hotch. 

“Hey, Hotch-” he made it three steps before your voice cried out. 

“Ronnie!!” You shouted, throwing your hands around your elder brother as he caught you in a hug. 

“Y/N, we're at a police station. If you're going to come see me, you have to at least call me Aaron.” 

“And not take the chance to embarrass you in front of your peers and coworkers? Not a chance, Ronnie. Not a chance.” He chuckled fondly, brushing away his complaints quickly as he turned to introduce you to JJ first, then Elle and then the frozen statue that had replaced Spencer. 

“And, Y/N, this is Dr. Spencer Reid. Spencer, this is my sister, Y/N. She's a student at the university.” 

You held out your hand with a triumphant grin as Spencer stared in wide-eyed horror at the apparition in front of him. 

“Hello, Spencer. It's very nice to finally meet you. My brother has told me a lot about you, and I'm very excited to pick your brains.” 

The air seemed to explode around Spencer as each breath became deliriously hot, filling his lungs with fire. It was moments before he realised that he wasn't actually breathing at all, and the air was actually quite normal. 

Your hand remained out, ready to greet him, and to the surprise of his coworkers, he took it in his for a short shake. 

“Y/N. Hotch's sister, Y/N. Nice to meet you, Y/N Hotchner, Hotch's sister.” 

He could practically hear the audible sound of Elle and JJ smacking a hand against their faces in horror at his stupidly obvious reaction to the woman in front of him. If he wasn't careful, he'd be spouting confessions of desire soon, and knowing that Aaron Hotchner carried two guns on his person even now did nothing to calm his thoughts. 

“Okay, well, Y/N, I'm busy with some interrogations now, but I can drive you back to your apartment in half an hour if you're okay to wait with JJ?” 

“Are you busy, Spencer?” You asked instead, keeping her eyes locked on the man who still weakly shook her hand, unaware of when the right time to stop would be. 

“I was serious when I said I wanted to pick your brain, my brother said you had a PhD in Engineering and I'm struggling through a class right now that I need some guidance in if you can spare five minutes?” 

Spencer stared between Hotch and you, looking for the right answer to please present itself before he imploded right there. 

“Yes. PhD, I have a PhD. Three actually, but whose counting? Me. I just counted them. One of them is in mathematics, actually, so I guess I'm always counting.” He finally dropped your hand, and you gave him a wider smile that dropped his heart to his stomach. “I am free, unless you needed me for something else, Hotch?” 

His gaze was pleading, though he wasn't sure if he was begging for his life, five more minutes alone with you or the power to extricate himself from this situation entirely, but Hotch nodded his acceptance quickly and let you lead Spencer off to the small, empty visitors room at the opposite side of the precinct. 

You shut the door behind you when you walked in, leaning over to close the blinds as well before you turned back to Spencer. 

“Your shirt is wet. You should probably take it off,” you giggled as you trailed a hand up his arm once again. 

His hand grabbed yours before you could do any more damage to his tender nerves than you'd already managed that morning. 

“You knew the entire time? Who I was?” 

“I walked over because you seemed familiar, but I only figured it out when you said your name. My brother does talk about you a lot.”

“Hotch is going to kill me,” he said, slumping down into the chair behind him. “Y/N, your brother was outside the club. He could've seen us leave.” 

You climbed into his lap, and his eyes finally met yours again, his tongue stopping its hopeless tirade as you relaxed into his chest. 

“I have two older brothers, Spencer. Do you know how often they've been able to tell me what to do?” Your hands started down his shirt, making quick work of the buttons as he stared up, enthralled. 

“Not once have they been able to stop me from doing something I wanted.” 

He scoffed quickly, unable to help himself. Your hands gripped either side of his face and lifted his head to meet your gaze again. 

“And right now, Spencer, I really want you.” A roll of your hips was enough to have him hissing and grabbing your hips. You started steadily rocking into him, eyes still locked with his. 

“Y/N, please let's be sensible.” 

“I don't want to be sensible, I want to have fun. I want to suck your dick right here, and let you cum in my mouth. I want to scream your name and let everyone know who is giving me pleasure. Can't I do that, Spencer?” 

“No,” he groaned, his eyes screwed shut as you dry humped him, trying to get yourself off on his lap, his.cock rising with each of your quiet moans. 

“Spencer, please. I want your big, hard cock back inside me. Please, please, please. I'll be a good girl, I promise.” 

His eyes shot open in incredulity as he watched you use his body as you saw fit. 

“Good girls don't lose their virginities in alleyways, Y/N. Good girls don't throw themselves at their brothers' coworkers. Good girls listen when they're told no, and don't try to suck cock in public, like little sluts.” He spat each word at you, bit you enjoyed each insult he hurled your way, enjoyed the way his body recoiled as he finally called you a slut. 

He seemed slightly shocked by his anger himself, but you didn't seem to care. It took you only seconds after to push your lips against his again and have your hands on his cock once again, pulling him out of his pants as his hands explored you just as eagerly. 

“Yeah, Spencer, your little slut. I'm such a little slut for you, please fuck me.” 

He buried a hand in your hair, tipping your head back so his tongue could probe deeper, his other hand already under your shirt and teasing one nipple. You lifted your hips and sunk down onto his cock, neither of you stopping to think again about your actions as you began to rode him. 

“30 minutes, Y/N, by now we have 24 minutes and 17 seconds. Can you manage that, Y/N?” 

“Yes, sir.” You said, feeling his dick twitch as you rode him. “Oh did you like that? You liked me calling you, sir?” His hips pressed up again, his body answering more honestly than his tongue. 

“What else can I call you? Spencer… sir….daddy?” 

He broke away from his place buried in your neck to push the two of you down to the floor, the new angle had you gasping as a hand covered your mouth stifling any screams you could make before you made them. 

“Be quiet and cum on my cock, Y/N,” he whispered and picked up his pace, one hand gagging you while the other pulled painfully at your nipple, pinching it between two hands and using it to lift your entire chest so your body was arched toward him, letting him go deeper. 

“Yes, Daddy,” you whispered again, against his fingers, tempted to wrap your lips around one and suck it into your mouth. 

“Fuck, just call me Spencer, Y/N.” 

But you couldn't respond, suddenly overcome with the numbness of you orgasm washing over you as you bit back a choked cry. 

“That's it, good job, Y/N. You listen so well, good job.” He rubbed soothing circles into your chest as his hips slowed, working you through your orgasm as he withdrew once again. 

This time though, he didn't try to pull away and leave himself hard, but sat himself up, and lifted you once again too, putting slight pressure at the back of your head until you were on your knees and letting your head fall down, down, down as your lips wrapped around his wet cock. 

You took him in your mouth, and tasted the bitter, salty flavor of your illicit activities, lapping every last bit of your joint pleasure up as he pushed your hair up and down his cock. 

It didn't take long for his hips to press up into your mouth slightly harder than before, his hands holding you steady as he came down your throat. He held your head there for a minute two, as you tried your best to breathe and stay there, taking as much of his cum down your throat as you could. He pulled your head off him and you swallowed the rest, smiling brightly at him as you did so. 

“Thank you for the fun, Spencer,” You said again, grabbing your phone and checking the time. 

Standing up, you pulled your clothes back in place, pulling your skirt down and your panties up, smoothing out the tangles in your hair. 

“Let me go get you that spare shirt, Doctor Reid,” you said, opening the door. “I'm very grateful for your help with my class load, sir.” 

His head fell back into his hands as you closed the door, leaving him to wonder just what the hell he'd got himself in for. 

[shanieveh]

dangerously yours !

— genshin men as the villain, you're the hero and throw some love in the mix

sacrifices the world to save you— ALHAITHAM, scaramouche, diluc, THOMA, childe, chongyun

He knew you planned to sacrifice yourself. He saw it coming. And he was ready to prevent every bit of it. He loved you. Once from afar, once from a different identity, a falsehood, a lie. He did all of that to see you, to know you and he fell. Hard.

You were a saint, the embodiment of good morality. A hope for the future. The opposite of him. And as you brace yourself for the moment your soul leaves for a new world, all for his arms to be wrapped in your body. You open your eyes and found a new world, the sound of bombs from where you once were. But that didn't matter. Not when his eyes sparkle more than crystals.

let's you defeat them— kaveh, VENTI, arataki itto, AYATO, albedo, xingqiu, cyno, aether, zhongli, tartaglia, heizou

As your blade came so close to slashing his neck you were finally hailed as a hero. A champion, a winner. But that void in your heart, a trophy can't fill that piece of your heart. He told you it was okay, as both of you staged a fight. Now he was tortured, punished for his crimes. He made you defeat him so you'll be once again called a hero.

You visit him almost everyday, always with an anonymous identity. He still smiled even with his tortured frame, one from lashes, some from his couple inmates. How can he sacrifice all his of career for you? It was easy really. No amount of punishment could exceed your cries, and that beautiful pained face he can't bear to see.

you join the darkside— kaeya, AYATO, albedo, pantalone, scaramouche, pierro, dainsleif, tartaglia

He lured you right to his trap. It all started when you met him, it was like Eve drawing closer to the sneaky snake. But just like it, your first meeting was destiny. Your family always wanted you to be a kind loving child. And you grew up as one. But as you learned more about the other side, you realized how wrong the "morally right" actually is.

It started off with a petty theft, to some injuries and then violence. With him at your side, it felt like pure adrenaline rushed to your veins. He taught you reality, away from the fairy tale built by the stupid legends of heroes. He made you feel that pain and hatred all came from love. You made him feel that loving was never enough to show just how much he adores you. Bang.

he becomes good— scaramouche, THOMA kazuha, VENTI, kaveh, tighnari, zhongli, bennett, xiao

He was never really evil. He was hurt. And when you feel him, and touch and be with him you learn how he actually is. How he was supposed to be. He used his power to see you often, maybe battle with you, but with the many chances to defeat you he chose not to. The many chances to destroy your plans, he left.

On quiet nights, away from the prying eyes and evil plans. There lies both of you, one asleep, one awake. He looks at the person lying on the grass and stares at the peaceful sky and saw no difference. You were the shooting star. His wish. He can't be evil, and he never was. And just for you, he never will. He can't stand to lose you, and he would give everything he built for that.

BONUS: he sacrifices himself— thoma, KAZUHA, alhaitham, childe, albedo, diluc, KAEYA

No... it can't be. He cant die like that. Not for you. It wasn't how it was supposed to be. Pleas of you wanting to wake him up. He was supposed to be a foe. But how he loved you so. He made you feel like you had a purpose, that you were more than just a weapon of justice. He made you feel alive and in doing so it killed him.

The war was over. But was it worth it? It wasn't. Killing him, destroyed you, tore you to pieces. He planned all of this. He knew he was... and in the palm of his hand lie the letter. A plan? A story? No.. it only stated three words you were so scared told him. A feeling you now regret.

"I love you."

[love-byers]

discogate, revisited

the stranger things directors are freaks about centering and symmetry. go watch any episode i promise you'll see loads of shots where everything is perfectly centered to the point it can't be coincidental. so when a stationary shot is so obviously not centered, it probably means something.

so why is that disco ball not perfectly in the middle of the screen. why. it's literally making his head shine. all of the other lights above the rink meet at the discoball, so it draws even more attention to it.

a disco ball is the center of attention. it shines brighter than anything else in the room.

to me this is a clear representation of what was going on that day between the love triangle. on the surface it seems like mike isn't paying attention to will and has all his attention on el, will is a third wheel being ignored by the couple. but we later learn that wasn't true at all, at least for mike. he was watching will all day and wanted to talk to him. "You were moping, you were rolling your eyes, you were barely talking you basically sabotaged the whole day."

all of mikes attention that day was on will. he was talking to el, but he wasn't truly paying attention to her because if he was, he would've noticed el was lying and definitely would've noticed el's entire demeanor shift when angela showed up. she so clearly didn't want to go with angela, but mike just let it happen. because that wasn't his focus. we're talking about the same dude from

"He's quiet today."

"He's always quiet:"

also notice how as the camera zooms on el the ball is between mike and will.

and as that happens, el is trying to hide how upset she is at her situation, her lie. literally forcing a smile. i think this is meant to show the reality of the day. el and mike we're not focused on each other. el wanted to come off like a popular cool girl, lying about parties and friends. her goal of the day was not to bond with mike, but convince him that she was super cool and her life in lenora was great. mikes gay ass was pretending like he didn't care about will and wasn't paying attention to him. i did an elaborate analysis on mike's behavior that day here. and both of these lies were exposed. el's because of angela, and mikes because of will. mike got so fed up with will not paying attention to him that he literally could not hold up the act anymore. it got under his skin so bad he literally couldn't take it anymore.

and both mike and el five reasons as to why their day was ruined.

el, to angela: You ruined my day.

mike, to will: You were rolling your eyes, you were moping, you were barely talking, you basically sabotaged the whole day!

there are several examples of lights surrounding couples in ST, but the first one i think of is jopper.

no, that lamp was not there coincidentally, it was on purpose

no, the discoball was not there accidentally.

and this comes back to what i talked about first, symmetry and centering. joyce and hop on either sides of the screen, the lamp perfectly in the center, and they even chose a place where the wall has a straight line so the lamp could fit perfectly in it. and it looks super nice. and there's also the association of st couples with electricity and sparks of romance.

so i ask again, what the fuck is up with that discoball. cause something is UP.

discogate you will always be loved by me

[purel6mbie]

'𝐜𝐫𝐚𝐳𝐲 𝐬𝐮𝐢𝐭𝐬 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐠𝐨𝐨𝐝, 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞' ... !

꒰ scar x reader

꒰ cw yandere, mentions of blood, reader hates female rover, slightly suggestive, reader is crazier than him nd that's smth .. tysm for the request, anonie ~ hope you'll like it !

you couldn't believe what was playing before your eyes. your blood boiled beneath your skin as you watched the playful banter between your lover and that so-called rover going on. the way scar smiled at her and the attitude she showed him, all of it was like watching flames burn you without you ever trying to escape them. it hurt.

'you don't know your worth yet, do you ? i know you have questions and I have the answers. I'd give them all to you if you joined me, us.' scar smiled. your man, lips merely inches away from that woman's ear.

your eyes barely managed to notice the glimmer of a sword before your body moves instinctively, going to shield your lover from rover's attempt. all hell broke lose at that exact moment. no one could try to hurt your lover without facing the consequences.

'oh oh ..' you heard scar say behind you as you lunged on your enemy, trying to find access to any exposed skin.

'you dared try hurt him ..' you seethed between gritted teeth, the sound of swords clashing buzzing in your ears, only further fueling your adrenaline. 'I don't know who you think you are, but I'll show you your place.'

and just as your blade finally grazed her filthy skin, tainting it a crimson red, your sword turned into ashes, vanishing into thin air as you screamed in protest.

looking up, your opponent had disappeared. you were back in scar's room ..

'why'd you protect her ?' you spat, furiously turning towards your lover who was lying down on his luxurious ruby sofa. 'I was about to kill her.'

scar looks over at you, at the deep frown over your eyes, at the slight pout digging your lips .. at the blood on your forearm. you looked like an insane goddess. he could feel his pants getting tighter.

'come here,' he beckons you over, waving his hand. 'cmon pretty, don't make me beg you, you know that's not how it goes between us, mmh ?' the smirk that tugs at his mouth and the sudden gleam in his odd eyes make you obey him against your will.

his gloved hand rested on your hip, his fingers drawing circles on the patch of bare skin that wasn't covered by your uniform. you shivered at the touch, before you found yourself lying on his toned chest, cheek pressed just above his heart as scar patted your head like you would do to calm a child throwing a tantrum. even though you frowned at the lack of seriousness in your lover's actions, your heartbeat went into a frenzy, painfully hammering inside your chest, and you knew that he could hear it.

'what you did just now is reckless and absolutely disregarding of what I told you to do if you were to accompany me.' he breathes over your head, tone even.

you detached your head from his chest to look up at him with anger. 'she tried to hurt you. to kill you, even.' you remind him through gritted teeth. 'I can't believe that you're reprimanding me for that .. is she that important to you ?'

scar simply laughed out loud at that, his chest vibrating like it would burst, head thrown back over the arm rest. he cups your cheeks and stares at you.

'do you think I would have let myself be killed that way ? you're underestimating me, darling ..' he says with a smile, before tilting his head to the side. 'but I've got to admit that you look hella cute like that,' his thumb grazes your lip as his gaze lingers there for a moment, 'almost ready to kill that insignificant bug for me. yeah, that was actually extremely arousing ..' scar smirks at the way you blush when he moves his hips slightly, his boner now pressed against your thigh in case you hadn't noticed it already.

one of his hands goes to pull your hair back quite harshly, tilting your head up as yours are sprawled on his torso for support. the villain contemplates you like that for some time before grinning. 'insanity looks ravishing on you, darling. but you'll have to tune it down until I complete my mission ..' he leans his face closer, mere inches from your lips, breathing. 'then, I'll let you do whatever my precious wants to our tool once she becomes useless, alright ?'

your lips clash with his in a heated kiss, or what it might look like from the outside, because this was something else, something greater, a love only possible between the most exceptional living beings. it was obsession.

©purel6mbie 2024 | do not copy, translate, repost !

[eufezco]

joel miller x fem!reader

c/w - fingering, begging

sarah was in her room with a friend, they both left you alone in the living room a while ago. even though they invited you to join them, you knew that you'd be a bother to the two girls.

you could hear the giggles coming out of her room from there. you were curled up on the couch, your favorite show playing on the tv, and wrapped in a blanket that had joel's scent.

you got up once you hear the keys turn in the door.

"oh my god, hi. i haven't made you any dinner yet–"

"it's fine, i'm not hungry."

"i thought you said you were going to be late tonight-"

"yeah, but we've finished earlier."

joel had been thinking about you the whole day.

you arrived a few minutes before he had to leave so the only thing he had time to give you was a quick kiss hiding in the bathroom. one of his arms was wrapped around your waist to help him pull you closer and both of you hoped that tommy could distract sarah for at least a couple of minutes more so that you could enjoy those few seconds you had. but the girl bursted into the bathroom. you quickly leaned into the mirror, pretending you were checking if there was something between your teeth and joel ran his fingers through his hair, pretending to be fixing it.

"you'll have to tell her one day." tommy reminded joel once he got into the car.

"shut up." as if he didn't know.

joel squeezed both of your cheeks and went in for a kiss. you threw your head back before your lips could even brush against each other. he arched his eyebrows at you and you arched yours at him. seconds after that, sarah appeared behind you. he used to be more careful when you both started this, making sure that sarah wasn't around before spanking your ass, checking several times that she was in her room before helping you to jump on the kitchen counter and encircle your legs around his body, even a little kiss on your cheek had him checking that sarah was still busy... but now he'd grown more confident, even though you were caught by tommy, joel truly believed that you were doing a great job of hiding it from sarah.

his daughter ran into his arms but his eyes were still on you. you hit him where it hurt the most. his ego. and he wasn't going to let this go just like that.

sarah accompanied you two to the kitchen, telling her dad about her day and asking about his. you insisted on making dinner for him but joel assured you that he wasn't hungry and that a glass of water would do the work.

sarah left to her room to call her friend so she could say hi to joel before they both asked if she could stay over. you stood on your tiptoes, trying to reach a glass for him when he approached from behind. his chest pressed against your back as he grabbed the glass himself, his mouth was really close to your ear, your ass against his crotch and his free hand held your hips in place.

"next time you're gonna have to beg for it." he murmured in your ear. his words sent shivers down your spine. before the two girls got to the kitchen, joel was already away from you, drinking peacefully his glass of water like nothing happened.

you sat next to him on the couch, your legs on his lap as you asked how his day went and he asked you about how you and sarah did. joel's hand was on one of your thighs, softly drawing patterns on the fabric of your jeans. his voice was deep as he complained about this new client, showing how tired and long his day had been. your foot started to massage his crotch, and joel had to fix his posture on the couch, less tense and leaving you more access to that area for what your dirty mind was planning.

he kept talking about his day, needing to take small breaks to gasp or to bite his lip down holding back his moans. you crawled your way up to his lap, his hands quickly finding your hips and yours on the back of his head, running them through his hair there.

"and i've been thinking about you all day."

"is that so?" you teased him. you know he wanted to hear that you've been thinking about him as well.

"oh, yeah." his hands moved to unbutton your jeans. he took his time unzipping them, wondering what panties you were wearing and how ruined they should be by now. joel sneaked his hand inside your jeans, making you take a deep breath at the sudden contact of his rough hand against your pussy through the thin and drenched fabric of your underwear. he smirked proud of that reaction. you might not have said what he wanted to hear but your body couldn't hide it. his fingers skilfully moved your panties aside, enough for his middle finger to go inside you and his thumb to press your clit.

"all day thinking about you..."

he kept talking. you inevitably curled your fingers and tugged his hair at the root. he added another finger and began to pump them in and out of you at a slow pace while his thumb drew circles on your clit.

"...and when i get home..."

your mouth opened in a perfect "o" form as you tried to keep your moans as quiet as you could. you hid your face in the crook of his neck, your lips sucked on the sensitive skin, creating a beautiful red mark under them. your wet kisses moved to his ear where you let out a few moans with his name, knowing how that turned him on. your breath against his ear spiked goosebumps on his skin and his erection grew painfully inside his pants, he had to focus to not stop moving his fingers. meanwhile, your lips kissed from his jaw and his cheek to the corner of his lips, and when you finally were gonna kiss his mouth, joel threw his head back all of a sudden, just like you did when he got home.

"... you don't even want to kiss me."

your lips tried to find his again but joel kept rejecting your kisses. you whined and shook your head.

"it wasn't- it wasn't like that." your hands moved to press down his abdomen. your eyes closed shut after feeling his fingers go harder in you. "she was gonna see us, joel, it wasn't like that, i promise..." you breathed out. your hips rolled against his hand, seeking even more friction on your clit if possible.

"well, it seemed like it." joel answered and you shook your head at his words again. you rested your forehead against his, his calm breathing mixing with your agitated one. "you know what you gotta do, baby. now, beg-"

"please, joel- please, i need you, please." you cried out before he could finish his sentence.

joel clicked his tongue. "oh, come on. you know you can do better than that."

you were desperate. you needed his lips on yours, you needed his tongue in your mouth, you needed joel biting your lip, you needed your moans to die in his mouth. your walls clenched around his fingers, that familiar knot and warm sensation forming in your lower abdomen.

"fuck- baby, please. i'm sorry, i'm so sorry but please, i need you, joel." and when his fingers hit that sweet spot inside you and your legs involuntarily closed around his hand, his lips collided with yours, quieting your moans as you came and finally giving you what you so badly desired.

you rested your forehead on his shoulder, exhausted and trying to catch your breath. you appreciated his soothing words on your ear as you recovered as well as his free hand caressing your hair.

"if i have to beg again for a kiss, we're done, joel miller."

[kayhi808]

First Crush - 6

After the park, all Abby could talk about was her day with Bucky. Even when her eyes were closed, she kept chatting away, past her bedtime. Part of you found it adorable & the other part had you worried. Abby is way to attached for your liking.

Jason was an absent father, but that still doesn't mean Abby didn't miss him or wasn't affected by his death. He died in a plane crash. His daredevil ways that first attracted you to him was the same reason you were alone now. He wasn't brave & heroic, dying for his country or on a mission. He was foolish and selfish, hot-dogging it when he lost control of his aircraft. Most people dropped the subject after you say he died in a plane crash, assuming it was work related. He was stupid. Always chasing the next high. The next rush. He had a wife and baby at home. He should have been thinking of you and Abby.

You couldn't deny the attraction you felt to Bucky, but look at his job. He was an Avenger for God's sake! The bad guys he chases were much worse than your common criminals. The risks were much higher. You were second-guessing you decision in exposing Abby to Bucky. Not that you could truly stop it. Abby was drawn to him at first sight.

*****

"There you are." Bucky enters your office & sits in the chair opposite your desk.

Pushing your lunch to the side, "Hey Buck, did you need something?"

"For the past couple days I thought I'd see you in the cafeteria."

"Sounds like high school," laughing, "I was studying in the library." Bucky frowns at you, "I usually bring home lunch so i eat in my office. It's easier."

Leaning forward, "Well, tomorrow, would you have lunch with me? We don't have to stay here. We can go to this diner around the corner. Their burgers are pretty great." He picks up that you're unsure. "C'mon, doll. I know you want to."

You laugh at his ego. I mean, he wasn't wrong. "Ok."

"I'll swing by around 1p. Is that too late?"

"No, that's fine."

"Then its a date."

"It's not a date. It's lunch." He doesn't say anything, just gives you a look. Its a date.

******

That night at the gym with Sam, Sam broaches a subject that the others were shying away from. "I saw you leaving with Y/N earlier."

"We went to the diner for lunch."

"So, what's going on with you two?"

Bucky shrugs, "Just 2 friends having lunch."

"MmmHmmm. Do you know what you're doing?"

"What do you mean?"

"Y/N's a special breed. She's a single mother. She don't need you wasting her time. You take on extra responsibilities if you start dating her."

"Relax."

"I'm just saying, you can easily find someone else to kill time with. You string her along, she's not the only one you'll be hurting. From what i hear, her daughter is obsessed with you."

"We went on a picnic & lunch. We're still figuring out what this is."

"And that's fine. Just keep in mind she brings more to the table than just herself."

"Ok, got it. Lecture over?"

Sam shrugs and leaves the gym.

*****

"Mama?"

"Yes."

"When am I seeing Bucky again?"

"I don't know, baby. He's very busy with work." You feel a little guilty at how badly Abby wants to see Bucky & you've been having lunch with him everyday for the past couple weeks. He's been dropping by your office with his own lunch to spend time with you.

"Can I asks him? I can draws him a letter." You laugh but stop when you see the earnest little look on her face.

"You know what? That sounds like a very good idea. Maybe you can invite him over to watch a movie & then dinner?"

Abby screams, climbing on the couch to give you a wet kiss on your cheek. "Bucky comes to my house??"

You release a deep breath, "Yes, you can invite him here." She runs off to her room to draw his letter. You lean your head back on the couch hoping you made the right choice.

*****

LIke clockwork, Bucky shows up at 1pm for lunch with you. You slide Abby's drawing across the desk to him. He has a smile on his face even before he opens it. When he opens it, his smile freezes and he looks between you and Abby's drawing. You cover your lips with your fingertips while you watch him, trying to suppress a smile.

"Doll, you're going to have to help me out here. Wh...what am I looking at?"

"What? You can't figure it out?" Bucky is put on the spot. "You're lucky Abby isn't here." You tap the left side of the picture. "What's this?"

"It looks like guts and eyeballs."

"Bucky!!"

"I don't know."

"It's spaghetti and meatballs."

"Oh! Ok. So this is us," indicating 3 stick figures in the middle. "And...I need help again. "This isn't brains."

"Jesus! You're terrible at this. It's a bowl of popcorn. Abby is trying to invite you over for a movie and dinner at our place."

Bucky laughs so hard, he has to rest his head on your desk. "So, I'm not invited over to commit a murder, because I don't do that anymore."

"My baby does NOT murder people! I'm not sure I want you over anymore."

"I'm sorry! I'm sorry." He grabs your hand from across the desk & kisses your knuckles. "Please don't take away the invite. I want to come over."

"Will you be free this Saturday?"

"Yes, I leave next week for a mission, but I'll be here on Saturday."

"Ok," you text him your address. "Maybe 3p? It'll be after her nap & we can watch a movie before dinner."

"Thank you, I'll be there." He give you his charming smile & you have to look away. You hope this isn't a mistake.

Next Chapter

@waywardhunter95 @wintrsoldrluvr @rebeccapineapple @ordelixx @onceithough @crazyunsexycool @thezombieprostitute @ilovetaquitosmmmm @julvrs @unaxv @s-a-v-a-n-a-34 @winterslove1917 @ozwriterchick @mrs-bucky-barnes-73 @mrsnikstan @hisredheadedgoddess28 @itsteambarnes @otterlycanadian @enchantedbarnes @purplecolordeer @samsgirl93 @buckitostan

[suuuupernovaaa]

Clean | Hobie Brown x f!Reader

You got yourself into a little bit of a fight, and Hobie has to patch you up.

Mature. 18+. Mention of blood.

The cloth meets your tender skin, and you hiss and try to pull your hand away.

"Hobie, that hurts," you say through gritted teeth. "What is on that?"

Holding your hand tightly to your chest, as if to protect it from him, you look up to see an exasperated expression on his face.

"Stuff to clean it. Give me that back." He grabs your hand a little gruffly, and puts the cloth back on. When the sting subsides, it does feel nice and cool.

"Someone out to teach you how to throw a proper punch," Hobie says, dabbing the cloth gently, moving it up your arm to where your other scrapes are. None of them are terribly deep, except a slight gash on your thigh from, you think, falling onto some broken glass.

"I know how," you reply quietly. He moves to your other arm, and you feel the stinging again. "It wasn't much punching, anyway. It was like... clawing and shoving. It was chaotic."

He gives you your hands back, and looks down at your legs, noticing the cut on your thigh. He lets a whistle out from between his teeth, and stands up. He rinses out the cloth he's been using, and grabs a new one from his kitchen drawer. He puts more 'stuff' on it, and returns to you, sitting down.

"This is gonna hurt." He scoots close, so that your legs are between his, and without another warning, presses the cloth to your cut.

"Oh crap!" you shout, and you're annoyed when Hobie starts chuckling.

"Oh crap!" he mimics in a high-pitched voice, meant to resemble yours. He places a large bandage on your leg, and a couple others on cuts that look a little nastier on your arms, and then sits back. "Think you'll survive," he comments. "Now, you need to tell me why you were in a fight. Looked like a couple of cats in a bag when I arrived."

You turn away, looking from where you sit at his kitchen table over to the TV, which is showing the news. Hobie always has the news on, even though he hates it and everything they ever talk about.

"It just, escalated. She was a fan, I guess, of the band. And she asked if I knew you, and I said yes. And she said... some not nice things. She was just drunk."

You're his whore, then? Do you think I could get in on some of that? I'm sure he's not very picky. I mean, look at you.

You can feel the way she grabbed at your stomach, pinching it. It felt like something scripted out of a bad teen movie, except it was really happening, and she just wouldn't stop.

"What did she say?" Hobie asks. When you look back at him, he's leaned forward, eyes narrowed, lips pursed.

"It doesn't really matter. It's over."

"It matters to me."

You shake your head and wave your hand in the air, as if to dismiss the conversation. "Really, Hobie. It was just, I don't want to relive it."

He reaches out and places a warm hand on your bruised knee. "Tell me."

You roll your eyes and sigh. "She said like, I must be, uh, sleeping with you and your standards must be low because... I'm like, fat, or whatever."

Hobie sits up, his back straight as a board, his eyebrows raised and his jaw a little slack. "And you beat the shit out of her?"

You draw your line into a straight mouth and nod. "Sort of. I mean, I can't fight but, she was bleeding and crying at the end of it. I was bleeding too but, I wasn't crying."

He nods, as if in approval. "Why does she think we're sleeping together?" he asked. "She's seen you, at a show or something?"

"I didn't get a whole backstory, Hobie. I guess so."

"Hm." He leans back, crossing his arms over his chest. "Must've noticed how I look at you. Everyone has. 'Cept you."

How Hobie looks at you? You try to think of what he could be referring to. Sometimes when he's on stage, he finds you in the crowd and smiles. But, you're good friends, so that doesn't seem all that exciting to you - does it seem that way to everyone else?

"How do you look at me?"

"Like I'd like to fuck you, Y/N. Like the shape of your body is all I can think about, and it really doesn't fucking matter what anyone else thinks about it. It fucking keeps me up at night."

It feels like you've been slapped in the chest, and all the air has left your lungs. Your mouth is instantly dry, and your legs feel weak.

Hobie is so dry, so even-toned, it's hard to tell if he's joking or not - but would that be a funny joke right now? Hobie is a lot of things, but he's not insensitive, and he certainly wouldn't try to hurt you on purpose.

"It does?" you ask finally.

He leans forward again, bringing his face just a few inches from yours. "I want you, Y/N. I thought I'd made it obvious, but now I see, I didn't."

You lick your bottom lip, and Hobie glances down at your mouth.

"Can I kiss you?" you ask, and a soft moan escapes his mouth, as if asking for permission turns him on. You feel his fingertips on your cheek, running upwards, until he cups your face in his hand.

You should close your eyes, you think, but the sight of him coming towards you is the most beautiful thing you've ever seen. His soft brown eyes, his full lips, his sharp cheek bones, his glistening piercings; you want to remember every sharp edge and round corner.

He pauses, just before your lips meet and whispers, "Anything you want to do to me, you can."

[thebestsetter]

Thinking about Bachira Meguru assuming he's unlovable.

Being called a monster for their whole childhood really makes a mark on a person's life and self-esteem. But for Bachira, they were unavoidable.

At first, he tried to ignore the mean comments and pretend he didn't hear them. Maybe that would make the loneliness go away. Maybe it would make the problems disappear.

"He's a freak!"

"Eww, don't get too close to Bachira! You'll get lice!!"

"He's stinky"

He heard the whispers. He just used to pretend he didn't. For both his and the children's sake. So he could pretend he was normal. At least for a while.

And, sometimes, even parents, grown-ass adults, called him weird. Shouldn't they set an example for their kids? They tell them: "Don't judge other people! You never know what they're going through!", but are always the first to talk shit about someone, even if said someone is a little kid.

"Poor kid. It's probably the parents fault."

"He says sees a 'monster'! He's probably schizophrenic."

"My son is afraid of him. Specially when he's playing soccer. He said he's very scary"

He tried to ignore them. He really did. He tried to smile through it all and treat people the same way he always had nevertheless: with respect. Because crying would make his problems real. He didn't want them to be real. And he was doing a good job at it! But one faithful day, he snapped. The final nail in the coffin.

"When I grow up, I want to be a football player, just like Zico!" 11 year old Bachira said, showing the whole class a drawing of him, Zico and his monster playing soccer together. His smile was as bright and blinding as ever, specially because he was talking about his passion: soccer. He loved it so much. It helped him escape the harsh reality for a while.

The class went silent. They used to think Bachira was weird, to put it slightly, but this? It just made him even more weird! They all knew that he could never be a football player. He was an outcast. A freak. He was a monster. And monsters couldn't live with humans. Nobody wanted a monster on their team.

And so, instead of clapping like they did with the other kids' drawings, the class started to laugh. It started out quiet, but later it turned into a full, loud laugh. All of them. And Bachira always dreamed of making everyone there laugh, but not like this. They weren't laughing with him or because of him, they were laughing at him.

"Uh? What's happening, miss?" He asked the teacher, confused and on the verge of crying. He couldn't cry here. Not in front of them, please. That would be another thing for them to laugh at.

He swears on his life that he heard the teacher laugh a little, before the adult crouched down to match his size, grabbed his drawing and put it on his desk, while the other kids' drawings were being stuck to the board with tape. And then, he heard one of the worst sentences he ever heard in his life. One that he knew would definitely keep him awake at night:

"Meguru, being a football player is too hard for you. Why don't you settle for something more real and reachable? Like a doctor or a lawyer?"

He didn't understand. Some kids here wanted to be astronauts, others wanted to be models. Hell, one wanted to be a dinosaur babysitter. And their drawings were hanging on the wall, like they were going to be achieved. Bachira felt like no one believed in him. Like he was being put aside.

He then realized the problem wasn't what he wanted to do. It was him. Anyone could be a football player, but he couldn't. Because he was a monster. He was different from others.

And so, the tears began to fall. One by one, first from his left away and then from his right eye. His vision began to blurry. Left eye, right eye. Left, right, left right. Kids laughing, teacher laughing. His drawing on the desk. Left, right. Left right. He couldn't even see his own hands anymore from how blurred his vision was. He looked to his side. Left, right. The door. His escape. He needed to leave.

So, without second thought, Bachira ran towards the door. He couldn't care less for the teacher calling his name. He wouldn't come looking for him anyway. Nobody would. Nobody cared enough to do it.

He sat behind a tree, protected by it's shadow. He continued to cry. Hard. He put his hands in his eyes to try and stop the tears from falling, but he couldn't. He needed to let it all out. He just wished he had someone by his side during his breakdown. He really wanted a shoulder to rely on.

"Hey"

Maybe he was, indeed, schizophrenic. Because, the moment he looked up, he saw a girl he swore was too pretty to be real. The sunset made her have an angelic glow, and the wind made her hair flow just the right way. Her face was like a greek statuate, and he swore he could hear a soothing symphony playing in the background when he met her eyes: they were the most beautiful color he had ever seen, and he could imagine himself being lost and found in them. She was just too pretty. Too pretty to be here for him. And so, he managed to stop crying for a while and said, between sniffs:

"Did you lose a bet?"

The way your face contorted was almost comic.

"What?"

"Did someone pay you to come here? Where are the cameras? And how much was it?"

"I didn't lose any bet" you said, frowning. "I came here to check on you because I wanted to. I don't get why everyone laughed at you. Your dream is not stupid. Nobody's dream is."

"Even Richard's? He said he wants to be a dinossaur nanny" he said before he even thought about it. He then widened his eyes, because what if you were Richard's friend? What if you hated him now because he said something bad about your friend? What if he already screwed everything up? What if...

"Okay, you win. That one's actually stupid." You laughed. He made you laugh. This time, someone was laughing because of him. He felt like he was capable of everything at that moment. Your laugh was a sweet, infecting, honey-like melody. It made him wanna laugh too. He didn't realize it, but he had already stopped crying, and was now just staring at you with big, blown and unwavering eyes. His mouth slightly parted, like he was studying you and comitting everything about you to memory. Almost as if you were indeed an ilusion, and would disappear the second he blinked. He couldn't believe you were real. You were real, and you were talking to him.

After a while, you stopped laughing and finally noticed his intense staring. Suddenly bashful, your cheeks turned a bright red.

"I-I just want you to know that you shouldn't be ashamed of your dream. I think- no, I'm sure you can achieve it. You just have to work hard for it. I-I've seen you playing sometimes, and it's honestly amazing how focused you are. Bachira, I want to be your friend. That's it, if you'll let me-"

He hugged you. Hard. If it was any other time, he would have been afraid of scaring you off with the sudden hug, but he couldn't care less right now. He needed this. He needed a friend. You were just what he needed. You were perfect.

He started to cry again. This time, the first tear came out of his right eye. Right, left. His vision was getting blurred from how hard he was smiling. Right, left. Right, left. Your arms hugging him back. Right, left. The sound of the school bell, signalizing the end of the school day. People would see you and him hugging and you would probably be called weird by them for being next to him, but you still didn't break the hug. Right, left.

He didn't want to escape like he did during the class incident. No. He wanted this moment to last forever. He wanted time to stop, to be in your arms for eternity. He didn't want to pull away. He finally made a friend. You were his first friend.

Bachira Meguru used to think he was unlovable, but you proved him wrong. You proved he could, in fact, be loved. He wasn't a monster. He wasn't a freak. He was Bachira Meguru. Your best friend. And he wore that title with pride. Later on, he had the honour to be called your boyfriend, and he was even prouder of that one.

He used to think he would never find happiness. That's why, the moment the ref blew the whistle signalizing the end of Japan U-20 against Blue Lock eleven match and securing Blue Lock's victory, he couldn't think of anything else besides his girl. He ran across the field to you. Because you were like a magnet. He couldn't be apart from you, or else it felt like the whole earth would explode. He was yours and you were his. You both were meant to be.

"You did it! I love you, Meguru!"

He laughed. A pretty, genuine laugh followed by a couple of tears, beginning from his right eye, of course. His mother was recording behind you both, the blue lock team was smirking and whistling at the sight of you two and the television was streaming the moment for the whole world to see. But neither of you cared about the extra eyes. You were the only ones on the world. You always made him feel like that, and he hopes he makes you feel that way, too.

"I love you so much. Thank you."

Thank you for being with me. Thank you for being there. Thank you for not leaving me. Thank you for accepting the title of being my girlfriend proudly. Thank you for being you. Thank you for everything. Thank you.

He then lifted you and spun you in the air, smiling hard. He brought your lips closer and then kissed you. A kiss full of emotion and love. So much love: raw and pure.

You proved he wasn't just lovable. He was also capable of loving. And there's nothing prettier than loving someone.

Bachira Meguru was lovable, and you made sure to show him that. You loved him, and he would do everything to keep it that way forever.

~A/N: there's a "saying" that says that if you're crying and the first tear is from the left eye, you're crying from sadness. If the first tear comes out of the right eye, they're happy tears!!

Masterlist

[whimsickool]

RATING THE ENTITIES ON HOW FUN THEY'D BE AT MONOPOLY:

1.  The Flesh - 1/10, wont stop trying to use severed body parts as its player token, houses, and hotels. This would be fine if they werent so fresh and thus staining the board. Brought meatloaf and refused to specify what meat was actually involved. We agreed to order pizza instead.

2. The Desolation - 4/10, is a sore loser and barely wants to play as intended. It mostly keeps trying to flip the damn board and when finally realizing its temper tantrum won't work, they just give all their assets to one player to tilt the game unfavorably like a dick.

3. The Lonely - 5/10, didn't show up on time, didn't play, and mostly sat on the couch for all of game night watching reruns of Golden Girls. This is due to the lonely feeling one gets when realizing you'll never have friends like The Golden Girls. They still get a point for watching though.

4. The Dark - 2/10, at first they just kept flipping off the lights which made it hard to play but when The Desolation suggested candles (the only helpful thing they did all evening) The Dark responded by leaking dark water all over which got the money and chance/community cards wet.

5. The Spiral - 6/10, just enjoyed going around and around and around on the board, sorta played? Mostly lied about how much money they had or owed or what chance/community card they pulled. This was because, "math is for losers." Thus, they did whatever they could to quickly get back to going around and around the board.

6. The Vast - 4/10, played the game, didnt perform any antics, but they kept pointing out their vast amount of wealth  after getting hotels on the first row. Points lost for being a prick.  I will say, from time to time, I would get the over whelming feeling that I was falling. This wasn't a large issue until it happened to The Spiral and suddenly no one can seem to find the bathroom in petty revenge.

7. The Slaughter - 0/10, killed the pizza man. This provided two major headaches: a deadbody to deal with and the pizza being ruined from being dropped. Luckily, The Flesh found use for the dead body. As for dinner, we resorted to just munching on the snacks. Also, its really uncomfortable being threatened whenever they happen to land on your property and owe you rent.

8. The Corruption - 3/10, always brings rotten snacks covered in mold. Uses live bugs for pieces which aside from being gross is just not effective cause they dont stay still. How can I recall that their property has three houses when the peices are crawling on my wall? I also just think it is common courtesy to shower before coming over to game night.

9. The Hunt - 8/10, overly competitive but focused on the game and largely helped wrangle the others. Did keep making references to Wolf of Wall Street though which got old quick. It is worth mentioning that they also talked alot about their various hunting trips and buddies which was fine at first until they started describing a recent hunt that I think may have been my coworker who went missing last week.

10. The Eye - 2/10, cheater. Fucking. Cheater. I didn't even know you could cheat that many ways in Monopoly. Also they brought the lead pipe from a Cluedo board as their game piece and kept giggling when I asked why. Further, it is rude to pressure a trade deal by use of blackmailing. Had a lengthy argument about how technically you dont have to draw from the top of the Chance and Community Chest pile

11. The Buried - 8/10, dirt everywhere and I can't be certain but I think they made my chairs smaller? Maybe it was the table? I felt far too close to everyone. I will say they did mostly play the game but you will feel buried beneath your debt after landing on their property which... now that i think about it.. why was their rent so high? That can't be right..

12. The Web - 7/10, much like insects spiders are NOT a suitable game piece. Didn't technically cheat but managed to get ridiculous trade deals from everyone, especially The Spiral. The Desolation gave all their assests to The Eye to screw over The Web but.. to be honest the game is still going and I.. is it possible to have a stalemate in monopoly?

13. The End - 9/10, played the game but kept saying we should up the stakes by having losers die. I explained that this was the sort of game where if it goes on long enough, death is actually the preferred alternative. They understood and got really quiet for awhile. I think they are to blame for why I'm up past my bedtime. I'm growing afraid they'll all still be playing by next week.

14. The Stranger - 6/10, tried to pretend they were my mom. I know they arent my mom. So they taunted me bu saying they were my dad. This was effective as I don't know my dad. Asshole move. Also, would not stop commenting how dry my skin looked. Other than that, yeah actually played the game!

15. The Extinction - 0/10, when it was finally time for everyone to leave we all learned why Extinction had not shown up. Bad news, the outside world has been nuked. The good news is that I don't think I have to pay rent anymore. Or go to work. Oh god. What do I do about groceries?

[withahappyrefrain]

thinking about the first time you get to deepthroat older bf bob. he’s been training you to deepthroat toys, he wants you to be ready before he gives you the real thing. even when you beg for it and give him your best puppy eyes, he won’t let you have it. when he finally decides you’re ready…oh god. he’s in control the entire time, your hair wrapped in his fist so he can gently tug you off of him if he needs to. and the praise he gives you? it’s out of this world. such an encouraging daddy who’s so proud to see his baby take him fully down their throat.

@lewmagoo i cannot stress enough how beautiful your mind is

The first time you try to go down on him is the first time he demonstrates his strength. He's so lost in the pleasure laced haze, all from the sight of you looking up at him after getting on your knees. After all, he made you see stars just from his mouth, a feat you didn't think possible, and shouldn't you return the favor?

He's much bigger than you anticipated and you'd be lying if you said it wasn't intimidating. You start with kitten licks from the base to the tip, tongue swirling around his leaking slit.

"Fuck, sweet girl," Bob groans, hands clumsily trying to find your shoulders, "S-sweet girl-wait."

You think he's just really turned on, so you continue. It isn't until your mouth begins to sink down on his cock that Bob sits up, one hand quickly grabbing your shoulder and the other one your hair.

"No," His voice is firm as he pulls you away from his cock, "You're not ready yet."

It's the hottest thing because as much as he wants you, wants to feel you gag on his cock, he doesn't want you to hurt yourself in the name of trying to please him.

He starts you off with smaller toys, because the truth is you're not the most experienced. Bob is a great teacher, making sure you go easy on yourself.

"That's it baby, just a little more," He coos as you work your mouth onto the new dildo he got for your training. It's closer to his size, a fact that makes your thighs clench.

"There ya go, look at you!" He presses a sweet kiss to your cheek, a sharp contrast to what he was encouraging you to do, "Didn't even gag, so proud of you."

You look at him with wide eyes, breath panting as you beg, "Can I try on you? Please?"

Bob just chuckles as he shakes his head, "Not ready yet. Like I said, I'll let ya know."

You know he will and that's the worst part because you so badly want to feel him, feel his cock in your mouth, feel all of him.

When you do go down on Bobby, he's very diligent, taking note of how you're doing, his hands guiding you. You don't sink your mouth lower on your cock unless he lets you.

"Sweet girl," he scolds, "What did I say?"

You look up at him, your eyes and pout causing you to resemble a brokenhearted puppy, "Please Bobby? I can do it!"

If your begging has any affect on him, he doesn't show it. He's steadfast, shaking his head as he guides you away from his cock, not wanting to overwork your pretty little throat.

"Bobby," your special nickname for him comes out in the form of a desperate whine. You're overcome with desire, with the need to make him feel just as good.

"I said no," His tone is sharper, he's immoveable, "But since you did so well, why don't you let Daddy give you a reward?"

It's absolutely a distraction, but it absolutely works.

He can't lie, it gets him so hard watching you practice on the toys he buys. You're so diligent, following his advice to a tee. Instead of being overeager and diving straight in, you now know to draw it out, to alternate between kitten licks and deeper thrusts.

"God, soon you'll be ready for the real thing," He whispers in your ear as you continue to work your mouth on the latest toy he's gotten you. Out of all the toys, this one is the closest to his size. He has you in his lap, guiding you through your 'session'.

"Can't wait, gonna feel so good to have your mouth on me." Bob can't help but chuckle when he feels your thighs clenching. Curious, his fingers trail underneath your skirt, finding the fabric of your panties wet.

Just as he suspected.

"Does that turn you on?" His voice is as smooth like the bourbon he keeps in his bar, breath hot on the shell of your ear.

"Uh-huh," you nod, squirming when his long fingers push the flimsy fabric to the side, sliding through your soaked folds. His experience from being in the Navy (now retired) shows, quickly able to find your clit and begin drawing circles that make you see stars.

A harsh slap to your bare thigh breaks you from your thoughts, a confused whimper falling from your lips.

"Who said you could stop practicing?" It's then you realize your lips are no longer wrapped around the plastic dildo.

"Keep goin'. Don't you wanna be good enough to take all of Daddy's cock?" His fingers have found your soaked entrance, having gone from teasing your slit to thrusting in and out, causing your body to revel in the unexpected but pleasurable stretch.

You obey. Sweet girls obey and you're his sweet girl after all.

But when the day finally comes and Bob thinks you're ready? You can barely contain your excitement, quickly sinking down to your knees, the plush carpet welcoming.

"Remember what Daddy taught you," he uses his nimble fingers to tilt your chin up, forcing you to look into his cornflower eyes.

"It's a marathon, not a race," you repeat his mantra, earning a proud smile from Bob.

"That's right. And if you need a break, how do you tell Daddy?"

A hand trails to his knee, "Squeeze your knee twice. Safe word is rodeo."

Bob leans over to press a gentle kiss to your forehead, "That's exactly right. You ready for Daddy's cock?"

You nod eagerly, eyes remaining on the bulge that you can see through his pants. It was cute, the way you were practically salivating as Bob unzipped his pants, slowly taking out his hard, heavy cock.

Despite being quite accustomed to Bob's body, the sight still took your breath away. He was the most handsome man you had ever seen, of course his cock would be pretty. Velvety smooth, curved slightly to the right with a plush head. It takes everything ounce of self control not to dive right in.

But that's not what Daddy taught you.

You start at the base, switching between kitten licks and soft kisses, working your way up to the head of his cock. Testing the waters, you wrap a hand around the base of his cock, enabling you to guide it into your mouth, bobbing your head up and down, only a few inches.

"That's it, just like that. Remember, breath through your nose sweet girl," He praises. Bob's words sends warmth throughout your body, the corners of your lips turning upright as you noticed your throat wasn't restricting like it had in the beginning.

Bob's blue eyes are set on you, mesmerized by the way your pretty mouth eagerly welcomes his cock. Your tongue feels like heaven against his slit, trailing down his cock. He's breathing heavily through his nose, teeth digging into his bottom lip as he fights the urge to tilt his head back from the pleasure you've providing.

"That's- fuck- that's it. Just like that." You sink lower, feeling his cock going towards the back of your throat. With his hands cupping the back of your neck, his thumbs resting underneath your jawline, Bob's able to dictate the speed and depth you go. You don't fight it when he pulls you back an inch or two, taking it as a sign to breath.

"Doin' so well f'me, sweet girl." Your toes can't help but curl at hearing Bob's rural accent come out. It only happened in two scenarios: when he was back home and when you were pleasing him, making him far too focused on the pleasure to even care about sounding 'neutral'.

"Kay, Daddy's going to bring you down just a little more. Alright?" You nodded fervently, longing to show him you were finally ready for him, for all of him.

It took everything in Bob not to thrust his hips forward. You were so close and he could feel your throat constrict, trying to accommodate him. He almost considered pulling you back, but then you moaned and he just couldn't help it, his hips tilting up ever so slightly. Another moan fell from your lips, vibrating against his cock.

"Sweet girl," he groaned, tightening his grip, "Doing s' fuckin' good f'me. Pretty little mouth was made f'me, y'know that?"

You try to nod, your hands gripping the fabric of his pants. Bob stills, waiting for you to show signs that you need a break. Instead, you lean forward, slowly taking more and more of him in your mouth, until finally your nose felt the coarse hair that nestled at the base of his cock.

Feeling him all the way in the your throat, combined with the lack of oxygen, made your thighs nearly shake. Bob's hands guided your mouth up and down on his cock, delighting in the muffled whimpers that continued to fall from your lips.

"There ya go. So worried it wouldn't fit, but just look at ya. Doing s'well, that's it, just like I taught ya." He's trying so hard to be a gentleman, to not pull you down to the base too hard, or thrust into you harshly. But God, is it difficult, the sight of you taking all of his cock the most erotic sight he had ever seen. His hips jerk erratically, his voice quivering as he talks you through it.

"Fuck, sweet girl. That's it, yeah, keep goin'. So fuckin' proud of ya, God, so fuckin lucky I get to call you mine.

His last word comes out as a groan, transitioning from coherent sentences to heavy, almost animalistic grunts as he comes.

Your eyes dart up and the sight above you is prettier than any painting you have ever seen. Strands of his greying hair falling over his forehead, his once cobalt eyes now nearly black with lust, his thin, pink lips parted as the sweetest sounds continue to escape.

The burning desire between your legs could no longer be ignored. With one hand still at the base of his cock, pumping his length, your other hand dips below your sundress. You had never been so thankful to forgo panties.

Bob notices right away, how you close your eyes and nearly sigh in relief, rocking your hips down onto your hand. His guidance has decreased as he gets closer to that pleasurable edge; not that you need his help. You eagerly took his cock, giving your throat time to adjust before diving deeper.

Just like you two had practiced.

So good, he didn't need to guide you. But that didn't stop Bob from trying to gather as much strength as possible so he could continue singing your praises.

"Shit, taking Daddy's cock got ya s'wet, didn't it? Can hear it God. Keep goin' just like that. Gonna marry ya one day, fuck, gotta get you a nice pretty ring- baby."

The last word came out in the form of a deep groan. Bob's hips jerked erratically as he came down your throat, giving you no time to process his words.

Just like you two had discussed beforehand, you eagerly took all of him, reveling in how good he tasted, how hot it was to see him so unkempt, so lost in pleasure.

You thought maybe you two could discuss his little admission after his breathing had steadied, but Bob had other plans for you.

"Get on the bed." His voice was firm, sharp. A far cry from the gentle, deep voice he uses with you. It made you wonder if that was the voice he used when he was on active duty, giving commands to the lower ranks.

His hand gripped your chin, forcing you to look up.

"What did Daddy just say? C'mon sweet girl, it's time for your reward for making Daddy feel so good."

You two could talk later.

[simplydnp]

WAD: Cover Art

dan is still working on selling the distribution rights for We're All Doomed! so i decided to make some DVD/Blu-ray disc jacket art!

this is my attempt at a traditional jacket design! none of the images used are mine, but i did create the concept and design:

as i was making the first one for myself, i was struck by the fact that 'well, it's for me, so it doesn't have to look like a stereotypical jacket cover' which led me to be more artsy in my approach for the next one:

i was really enjoying the creativity and space to explore, so i went looking for more inspiration for a third design. this led me to dan's favourite Muse album: Origin of Symmetry, which i paid homage to:

after the first Muse album, i looked at their catalogue to see if there was more inspiration there. i was just thankful dan's favourite was easy stylistically to mimic, unlike say, 2009's The Resistance...

thank you @danielhowell for the inspiration!

nerdy stuff & reference pics below the cut!

General notes

i don't know how to use photoshop! i entirely brute-forced my way through the whole project, and the only tutorial i looked up was for the gradient text in the 4th cover

this wasn't even the original project i was working on! you'll eventually get to see that though

and this one also inspired art for the disc itself so stay tuned 👀

i will do anything for authenticity so these are Full of intentional details

matching fonts is a nightmare

the traditional cover

took the longest, as it was the first.

the barcode numbers are the date of the first video he uploaded on dinof, and the last tour show date (in m/d/y)

i changed 'iceland' to 'poland' on the front cover, as he never actually went to iceland, and poland wasn't ever on the list even though he did go there

the orange may look a little off-center in the front, but these designs need to include space for a spine between the front and back cover, i promise it's right 😂

the black and white cover

inspired by the 'i want to believe' aliens poster

the cover art comes from his metal band merch shirt design

i had to manually shrink the text, line by line, and ensure it all lined up on the back!

i even made the logos on the back greyscale

the Muse: Origin of Symmetry cover

a shockingly perfect style for a WAD cover. i'm so glad i used the cubes, even if they couldn't be orange.

there's some versions of the art online where the sky is even more orange and it baffles me how i haven't seen any parallels like this before

the Muse: The Resistance cover

this cover was never supposed to see the light of day! i meant it when i said i was grateful i didn't have to try to adapt this complex design... and yet, i tried anyway.

i did all the grid lines by hand, including the jagged/broken edge parts, shading each section, and then drawing every star.

the hardest part was getting the gradient on the back text to cooperate. photoshop's gradient settings are surprisingly limited

gotta shout out @amazingphil for being the reason i knew what this cover looked like--it's the only muse album i knew the art of before embarking on this quest!

obligatory sob story:

i've been extremely and suddenly ill for 6 months. it is difficult to function moment to moment, but especially in doing little things just for me. this is the first and only art project i've been able to feel inspired to not only work on, but to finish, and despite the pain and long hours, i enjoyed every minute of it. thank you, dan, for creating this space for me to explore, and thank you, everyone here, for being wonderful support during this time 💞

[the-monkeies-girl]

I was wonderingggggggg what if reader gave noa oral?

Since you already did this with ceaser.

*shot down, deceased I've been risen from the dead to bless you all*

we talked about this guys. WE TALKED ABOUT ME BEING NASTY.

** BELOW IS VERY NSFW, READ AT YOUR OWN RISK. THANK YOU. 18+ READ THE PROMPT AND BE RESPONSIBLE IN KNOWING IF YOU'RE COMFORTABLE PROCEEDING. **

I think the first time that you decide to go ahead with it, even having explained to him what you were going to do, Noa would be a tensed ball of nerves at having your face so near something that was not well established within the Ape community, or at the very least, it was something not talked about or mentioned in public settings.

Wide green eyes watched in tense and flurried frenzy as your hands press against his chest, just enough to get yourself propped up and without warning, your gentle finger tips are running down his chest, resting along his navel for a moment. The sensation in the pit of his stomach is so tight he felt like he was going to unravel. From the navel, Noa admires how your cheeks are a bit red, trying to convince the haze in his mind that it was just the nature of the fire playing along your skin, but he can feel just how hot your touch is, even through his thickened fur. Downwards, you're a bit hesitant, not sure how he was going to react as you lightly grasp his cock. Absolute, no barred reaction here. Hips are in the air, Noa is baring his teeth at the sensation of you touching it, and not having himself inside of you, Noa hisses under his breath, drawing a hard breath inwards and letting it hold there as he waited for you to move again. He had no idea this was even possible, the sort of twisted knot that was sitting dangerously close to the pit of his stomach but he wasn't turning away, he wasn't pushing back, he was asking for more, silent at first before a tiny gasp leaves his lips once the sensation passes. You're quick to give him a few pumps, just to get him as ready as possible ( Also, hey, you're a tease so why not ), letting your finger drift over the head a few times just to garner him to show his teeth at you again, which funnily enough, in the throes of intimacy, you'll do the same thing every so often and it makes Noa go wild.

Suddenly, the weight of your body is gone from the straddling position you had chosen. Right off of him and he's left wanting you back, long arms raising weakly, eyes looking down at what you were doing at the flush of movements as you were readjusting yourself. I mean, he knows, but does he know? Noa's eyes are on you, never taking them away as you prop his legs open, fur rising on his shoulders out of anticipation as you dip your body between then and he takes a second to really admire that--- and OH-

You're fast to bring your head downwards, giving your mate a look, letting your eyes lock as your hot breath cascades onto the hot and sensitive organ as you grasp the base to angle it properly for you to do what you so desperately longed to, the fur that was near the base tickled your fingers and you allow yourself the moment to admire him so close. He's girthier than a human male, not as long but incredibly veiny, it is a few shades lighter than the fur that it was usually tucked into when not aroused. Your hungry eyes sweeping over the prominent vein that sat on the underside, tapering off closer to the tip. Just to show him how much you loved him, and that despite him being an Ape, he deserved this sort of affection, he deserved it from you. You give him a cursory lick on the under side, right along the vein that had gotten your attention in the first place, letting your eyelids flutter shut at the feeling of him twitching at the first placement of your mouth so near to him. He's incredibly fast to orgasm. Like, seconds after your mouth is on the head, barely even grazing with your lips to give him a taste of more, he's done for. immediately on your face, partially in your mouth. Didn't even have time to react properly to pull away. It's such a visceral cum too, like, teeth gritting against each other, he is holding onto the animal pelt underneath him for dear life, he feels like all the tendons in his fingers were going to snap under the pressure. You relish in the feeling of his thighs closing in on you, tightening their grip as his fur begins to brush your shoulder blades, his feet are straggling for something to hold on to and somehow end up on the small of your back and he's pressing you down, cum dripping off your face onto the animal pelt below. You make a note that you were going to have to clean it, but that seemed so forgotten when Noa made eye contact with you, eyes completely darkened with carnal want, his cock still in your hand, throbbing again at just the visual he was getting of you between his legs as he tried to collect his breathing, shooting inhales and exhales roughly through his nose before Noa finally lets his head drop backwards and he opens his mouth to say something. "Fast." You chuckled, swiping your mouth with your tongue to get just a taste of what he had just given you. You knew quick releases were normal, the first few times you two did anything, it was very brief and you expected it this time around as it was the first time you really delved into the realm of doing anything other than the most basic positions, followed by longer drafts of holding each other and engaging in conversations before you fell asleep against him. Noa only huffs out a response as you give a small thrust of your hand, asking if he wanted you to do it again. Wordlessly, he just nods.

Definitely becomes one of his favored forms of foreplay, sometimes even going as far as to only have that performed on himself rather than penetration. It just feels so euphoric.

Ah don't get me started ( actually please do ) about once he gets comfortable, perhaps two or three times after the first experience and Noa grasps at your hair for the first time. He's grasping it so tightly, dragging your eyes open to force you to look at him. He's hips shuffle forward as you make eye contact with him and moan against his cock. He's done for.

AH MY GOD. Your favored position is to have him on his back, it's just the most comfortable for you but you mention something one day about being on your knees and he does not relent the idea. In the middle of it that evening, he ASKS YOU IF IT WAS OKAY TO TRY THAT WAY.

And you do, licking your lip of the pre-cum that he had already given you. He is shaking like a LEAF as he brings himself to rise, suddenly flushed and afraid that he was going to loose his balance as you follow him out of the nest, bringing a small animal pelt with you to rest your knees again instead of sitting on the wooden thickets of the floor below.

This is really the first time that he's really looking down at you, often choosing to keep his eyes shut in anticipation of the impending pleasure but he wants to witness as you bring your sweaty body to your knees, shuffling forward towards his cock that was sprung deliciously in front of your eyes.

You don't even bother grabbing it - something Noa finds intensely interesting as you were so frequent to do that and instead, you just slide him into your mouth. His hands are at his side for the first portion of it, balling itself into a fist before relaxing again. His toes are curling and un furling before he does something unexpected.

HE GRABS THE BACK OF YOUR HEAD AND FORCES YOU TO TAKE HIS ENTIRE SHAFT INTO YOUR MOUTH. THE GAG? OHHHHHH The fur on his spine is prickling with satisfaction, almost transfixed in your saliva dripping down your chin.

Noa is not hesitant to cum in your mouth. ( Not his favorite, but it'll do if he can't get himself inside of you before he needs to. )

[dahliakbs]

Batfam x Reader: Unexpected Trip To The Future

❥synopsis: You sneak out of the house to hang out with your long time bff only to be caught in the cross fire and forcibly ripped away from your family.

✷

Here you sat alone around the small camp fire, su itrrounded by the endless heaps of trash you'd found that were still of use. The night sky shone a prominent blue colour with the clouds being seen far off in the distance.

The air around you was calm and quiet and seeing as how you were the only human being left on this earth it'd be weird if you all of a sudden started hearing noises.

On nights like this you'd sit around the camp fire and think back to the life you'd lived before the accident occured.

You'd always reminisce back to the day you first came to the manor. Bright eyed and filled with joy and enthusiasm, your closest friend Richard Grayson obviously sharing the same enthusiasm as you.

The two of you were know to be quite inseparable, always being seen together no matter the circumstance. The only times you weren't with each other were when Dick had to go out on patrol, reluctantly leaving you in the cold and dark manor by yourself.

Even though at the time you understood why he had to leave you didn't want him to. Back then it was your clingy behavior that got you into the accident.

Both of you having lost your parents at such a young age had left you yearning for some kind of affection and Dick felt the same way. So at any moment of the day you two would be together, playing whatever games you two could come up with until Bruce came home.

But since you two were together every second of the day you didn't see why you weren't allowed to go out on patrol with them. So when you were sat at home by yourself waiting for Dick to come home you'd just decided that if he wasn't gonna come to you you were gonna come to him.

On that night you'd snuck out of the manor, Alfred having not noticed since you escaped through your bedroom window.

You'd somehow squired one the tracking devices B used to know your precise locations and used it to find your way, arriving in less than ten seconds.

"Dick- I mean Robin I'm here!" You yelled out as soon as you made it to the scene. Having not noticed the intense battle going on between your father figure and the joker.

"N/n what are you doing here?" you could see his eyes light up under the mask as he quickly sprinted of the battle field towards you, arms opened wide and awaiting your hug.

You'd returned it quickly, holding out your hands towards him in a silly manner.

"Don't tell B but I snuck out to come see you, I stole one of his tracking thingies and now here I am" you showed off the gadget in your hands to a wide eyed Dick.

"Wait you stole it?!" He exclaimed, drawing everyone's attention towards the two of you.

"Keep quiet or else you'll get me in trouble-"

"What do we have here" Joker suddenly appeared behind Dick, roughly pushing him out of the way to get a good look at you.

"What's a little thing like you doing out here, did you come to say hi to your old uncle Joker?" he asked, you liked down to his hand. Noticing the strange gun he held in his hand. It looked like any regular gun, just deformed and reeking of a strange acidy smell.

"Get away from them" Dick jumped towards the Joker only to be harshly side kicked away from the two of you.

"Well since your here" he grabbed onto your arm, harshly yanking you closer towards him before flashing his deranged yellow smile at you.

His eyes held a mischievous look in them, bloodshot and looking down towards you as if you were nothing more than a puny joke to him.

"I've been meaning to test this thing out and you seem to be quite eager to help your ole uncle J, right?" He asked, pointing the gun in some random direction and pulling the trigger.

The gun shot out a murky green colour, the murky green forming into a circular portal that led to somewhere unknown.

The panic set in for you as you noticed the smile in his face grow to inhuman proportions. Harshly trying to jerk yourself away from him as you called out for anyone's help.

"Someone help me, anyone" your eyes turned blurry with tears as you turned to Bruce then to Dick for help.

"Daddy please help me" you cried out before you felt yourself being thrown towards the portal.

The last thing you saw before being thrown into you the green portal was Bruce chasing after you, wearing an expression you could only describe as scared and desperate. Calling out to you before you were fully submerged inside the portal.

Immediately feeling your body be transported throughout time and space before finally ending up in the wasteland you currently resided in.

The wasteland being the ruins of the former crime city known as Gotham City. Apparently the world had gone to ruins a little after you'd gone to the future, leaving behind a vast dry land ready to be taken over by mother nature.

And all you could think of as you reminisced and watched over this forgotten city were the regrets you had, you just wanted to see your family one last time.

Seeing that expression on Bruce's face really shook you to your core, you didn't think he'd even cared that much about you until you saw how desperate he looked that night.

One of the biggest regrets you had was not being able to see Dick's face one last time, to atleast be able to see his expression before you left him and all you do about it now was cry and look up to the night sky. Hoping that if there was a god out there that they would send you back to the family you belonged to.

Hoping that if you'd finally be able to confess to tell Dick about the silly feelings you had for him when you were both so young. Or maybe hoping to finally spend some time with your cold and hurt guardian.

And as if someone was really out there listening to your pleas you saw a familiar murky green colour fill up the space between you and the campfire.

Immediately lighting up the small space you were in.

A couple seconds of staring at it later you heard someone speak from the other side before s figure emerged from the portal.

?

"Richard is that you?" You asked the figure. They looked exactly identical to him, only difference was that this person was much taller and looked around the same age as you. His suit was very different, instead of the bright red, green and yellow he wore when he was younger he instead sported a black and blue skin tight suit.

The figure kept walking closer, expression slowly crumbling as they inched closer and closer towards you before they stopped Infront you. Taking off their mask to get a better look at you.

"It's time to go home n/n" his voice trembled as he forced the words out of his mouth. He crouched down in front of you, placing his arms underneath your legs and hoisting you into the air without giving you a chance to think to much in the situation.

He hurriedly passed through the portal, almost as if he was trying to get you away from the cursed wasteland as soon as possible. A wave of nausea overcoming before you emerged in the other side.

The intense feeling forcing you into a deep slumber before you could even get to see what was on the other side of the portal.