#Delightfully frustrating

[moshi-tehkitty]

[blueflyingturtleontheway]

a curveball into the takaína thing, you say??? :D

Yesss I do say!

Okay this post will be very rambly, since this is the murky part of the story still, but I'll try to say what I have so far

While I still haven't figured out Elena's reaction to the betrayal and so Esteban's specific plan and motivation, I know for sure that he'd be much more active than in canon. Where in canon he mostly still used the excuse of running for his own safety or having no choice, here he's be rather about doing, about proving something and/or about changing the reality

That's where I think the Four Shades would fit nicely, I remember before the finale came out we were all theorizing whether or not Cahu will be able to turn back the time or something like that and I think Esteban might operate on similar assumptions. Plus the others have power over emotions, shape and the surroundings so like, something could definitely be done about his family with this power, right?

But before that, the Takaina

And Takaina is a MUCH BIGGER DEAL in this version of the story

Because one of the biggest sources of insecurity for Esteban here is the fact that he might have giant knowledge of magic and the arcane - but he's very weak. Most of his magic is just smoke and mirrors unless he has a lot of time to prepare and change the circumstances to be as much in his favor as possible, but even then there are spells he was just never able to cast properly. Some of those Mateo has figured out and mastered on his own btw. This weakness complex also caused him many conflicts with Elena back during the Amulet times and they had a SERIOUS fight when Esteban realized she just let Sofia keep it

So naturally when Esteban learns about a crystal forge, a source of Maruvian magic, a place that holds immense amounts of raw magical power, well. He becomes a bit obsessed.

His search for Takaina would start somewhere at the end of season 2/beginning of season 3 (I'm thinking perhaps he learned about it by accident from one of the Delgados?) and this obsession combined by the fear of not being needed by his family anymore and getting replaced (think the "maybe you should make Naomi your chancellor" thing and Incredible Shrinking Royals in canon) push him further into desperation and false hope that getting more power will fix all his other problems

And then of course Elena is the one to get the power of Takaina all on her own, not doing anything to gain it and not even realizing what she was blessed with (I mean "my dress is so sparkly"? Really?!)

And hoping to get back to Takaina could be enough motivation to make him stick with Ash at least at first. He doesn't know the way and he already was no match for Elena with her regular scepter powers, much less now

But here's where the curveball comes in - what if after all of this, Esteban still didn't get the power he craved so badly? What if ASH was the one to get Takaina's magic instead?

Now, the main reason I'd want to do that is just to nerf Esteban so he doesn't get into a reality-shaking fight with Elena too early. In canon Elena was out to get him and he was completely out of control of his new powers. Here Elena is still out to get him, but his much more knowledgeable and capable in terms of magic (and he's not completely running from Elena as much as he's just stalling)

So to give him a reason to continue to stick with Ash, if she gained the Takaina powers, he might follow her to Zopilote in hopes to steal that magic from her or at least find a way to break Elena's magic crytal lock. Later however, as he learns about the Shadows of the Night and Zopilote conveniently gets out of the picture, he realises that he doesn't have to take Ash's powers. He just needs to use her to free the Shades...

Now only three things remain to figure out:

what are Ash's powers

what's the deal with the bird man

what's Esteban's plan when he realises Cahu can't send him back in time

And I'm sure in another month or two at least one of these plot points will clear itself up

[altblock-tm]

Jimmy Mouthwashing is a fucked up freak (said with a giddy smile on my face, kicking my feet)

[ahb-writes]

"...it's what I can do."

("Quinn," in Daria, S2E06: "Monster")

[nature-played-a-trick-on-me]

Waving a semi fake sword around and hitting things in a controlled manner would fix me I know it for certain

[theorist-fox]

Bug

Simon 'Ghost' Riley x Reader x John 'Soap' MacTavish

Crossposted on AO3

Word Count: 3.4k

Summary: Johnny eats you out in front of an audience.

18+

CW: smut (cunnilingus, masturbation, some sexual fantasizing, brief dubcon turning into enthusiastic consent), a bit kinky (voyeurism, exhibitionism) fluffy? sort of, pwp. Soap/Reader established relationship + Simon joining the party I guess

Masterlist 🦊

Your toes are cold. So cold that you think your body might never recover, that maybe you’re bound to be a corpse for the rest of your life.

Dramatic, you’re aware.

And Johnny is so delightfully there, isn’t he? On his side of the bed, in a deep slumber. He’s a heavy sleeper too, so you’re sure you could start sighing and coughing in subtle discomfort and he wouldn’t budge. 

You know his senses are perked when he’s on duty, and you’re glad to know he feels safe enough in the four walls of your home that he turns those alarm bells off.

But goddamnit, now would be a fantastic time to cuddle up. Wonderful to have those thick arms wrapped around your shoulders, his chest to your back. Pressed tight, until the coarse hairs on his abdomen would start to tickle and then scratch a little.

Clicked in place like two puzzle pieces, you’d be, with his knees tucked in the folds of yours, and your ass snug perfectly into his crotch.

And then you’d start rolling your hips slightly. You’d crane your neck back to meet his face, and you know he’d nuzzle your nape for all it’s worth. Sniffing the shampoo in your hair, burying his face until his nose would meet your skin. 

His kisses would be unhurried but open, slow but voracious. They’d make goosebumps sprout from your neck to your thighs, and you’d drench your knickers in the blink of an eye.

By then, his cock would have grown hard against the swell of your ass.

He’d hook his thumbs at the waistband of your pants. Slide his cock through your folds, already wet but now they’d be even more soaked with his prec—

Great.

Now you’re horny. Horny and freezing and frustrated.

Unable to sleep because you’re cold and Johnny forgot to call the plumber for the heating—leaky radiators, a boiler that's been fussing for the past couple of days. Not even taking a shower is safe anymore, for fuck's sake. 

Unable to sleep because you’re dreaming about your boyfriend fucking you into the mattress. Fucking the ice cold seeping into your bones right out of your body, melting it into delicious sweat.

Alas, unable to fuck, because his mate is sleeping on the sofa, and the walls of this stupid flat are thin.

"He’s got mold in his flat", Johnny had told you. "Give it a few days and he’ll go back."

Not. 

It’s been three weeks, and Johnny's lieutenant still hasn’t left. Actually, you think he might’ve moved in altogether,because you’re starting to have less and less space in your closet, and Johnny's socks are mixing up with Simon’s.

But you’d bend and break for your boyfriend, and by extension for whoever he cares about—including his fucking lieutenant. Spooky geezer. Walks quietly around the house and scares the living shite out of you when he materializes in the darkest corners of the room.

It’s not that you hate him. You tolerate him—or, okay, you like him. You would like him even more if it weren’t for the predicament he’s inadvertently stuck you in. 

He is a fun addition to the household and has wonderful chemistry with Johnny. Stores a sharp wit and a repertoire of horrible jokes that somehow make you laugh. He’s clean, buys groceries, cooks meals when you and Johnny aren’t home—he’s a decent flatmate, after all.

But still.

You want to fuck your boyfriend.

“Johnny,” you whisper, turning under the bedsheets to face his way.

Even in the darkness shrouding the room, you can spot his silhouette.

It takes a while for your eyes to adjust to the lack of light, but when you do, you can finally make out the lines of his face. 

He’s sleeping soundly, like nothing can wake him even if it tried. His lips are slightly parted, a habit that comes hand in hand with the crook of his nose—a curve that makes it a bit harder for him to breathe.

You don’t want to be the one who interrupts what looks like a dreamless rest, but it is his fault if the flat feels like you’re sleeping on a slab of ice.

You scoot closer. The tips of your noses touch.

“Johnny,” you whisper again. “Baby, can you wake up?”

Nothing. He doesn’t even flinch.

You kiss him. A swift peck.

“Baaaaby,” you singsong to his lips, quiet yet cheeky.

It’s then that Johnny finally grumbles something. You quickly agitate a victorious fist under the covers.

“I need you to warm me up,” you tell him. “Because I’m too cold and I can’t sleep and it’s your fault.”

There. Evil. Digging your thumb into the guilt wound you’ve carved into his very soft heart. 

Johnny’s eyes flutter open. It takes him a while to adjust. A smack of his lips to hydrate his tongue, the heel of his hand digging into one closed eye. When he comes to, and finally connects the dots, you hear him snort.

“Unbelievable,” he murmurs. “Could’ve grabbed 'nother blanket.”

You frown.

“But you’re warmer than a blanket,” you retort dramatically. “And to get one I’d have to leave the bed, go wander helplessly into the cold, look for it in the da—”

He groans and slaps his arms around you until your face is plastered to his chest.

You press the very cold tip of your nose into the warm skin on his sternum. He flinches.

“Fuckin’ Christ, hen,” Johnny rumbles. “Ye weren't talkin' shite, aye? Proper icicle.”

You giggle. He shushes you as his chest rumbles with a quiet chuckle of his own.

He thinks it's over, then. Thinks he’s done with it now that you’re cuddled up in his arms, and closes his eyes.

But sneaky little you leaves kisses on his chest. The cheeky thing that you are, you press your thigh against his crotch, where he’s half-hard already—but that’s just because of men’s weird physiology, not because he’s horny.

He hums. “Not now, love.”

“Please,” you say, lips dancing about his chest until you reach his nipple.

You tentatively lick there. Johnny hisses and you triumph.

“Please, it’s been so long,” you plead. You purse your lips and suck so gently that Johnny’s hips thrust forward in a twitch, rutting against your thigh.

“He’ll hear us, hen.” He warns, but his voice cracks and you know that you’ve won. 

Simon can handle a few moans just fine, you reckon. He’s old enough.

“Let him,” you mumble to Johnny’s skin. “I don’t care, I miss you.”

You feel his hand reach to the back of your head. Gently, his fingers thread through your hair, massaging softly at your scalp until you’re a puddle in his hold. 

“Aye? Ye don’t care, eh?”

His eyes roam your face. Hooded, already heavy with lust, but a tad more balanced—managing to rein it in, unlike you.

“No.” You insist. “He can fucking watch for all I care.”

Your tongue darts forward, and you lick a stripe bisecting his lips. 

Johnny fucking loses it. 

His hand slides to your nape and holds firmly, enough so he can crash his lips to yours in a searing kiss. You sigh contently in it, no matter how hungry it is—to you this is the most awaited moment in weeks.

Your hands are as frantic as his own. You tug at his pants as he tugs at your shirt. 

Johnny is very tactile, and you just know he wants to touch you thoroughly before he gives you the blessing of a fuck.

In fact, the first thing he does is flatten his palm on your sternum to guide you on your back. His mouth nips and tugs at your lips, then at your jaw. He finds that softer spot on your neck and sucks lovebites on it.

You moan like a slut, without a care in the world. Simon be damned. The neighbors be damned, too.

Johnny's lips finally wrap around your nipple, while his hand plays with your other breast. 

You get louder, and it's a clear sign for that man on the other side of the wall to go and pop in some earbuds because you’re not shutting up tonight.

“You’ve never been this loud I swear to Christ,” Johnny says with a hint of a chuckle that gets lost in your skin. “S’like yer doin’ it on purpose.”

He pinches your belly. “Are you?”

You look down at him. Eyes narrowed. Smirk barely hidden. “No?”

But he can see right through you like you’re made of glass.

“You like it, eh?” He says with a hint of surprise, like he’s discovered a goddamn goldmine. “Oh, you fuckin’ like it.”

And what if you do? What if there's a thrill in knowing the man in the other room might hear you getting railed the way you deserve? Are you deranged for it?

Probably.

But fuck it.

Johnny’s mouth travels lower, from your breasts to the hollow between your ribs, until he’s fully hidden under the covers. 

Instinctively, your fingers thread through his hair. Tight.

Oh, he’s gonna eat you out. 

It’s much easier to quiet down when you’re having sex, because Johnny’s a kisser and he always keeps your mouth busy. But he knows you’re not exactly prim and proper when he makes you cum on his tongue.

He knows what he’s doing, and it’s then that a lightbulb flickers on in your head. 

Bright, excited.

Johnny likes it too.

And you love that he does.

So, since he’s as into this as you are, you settle on giving him the show of a lifetime.

It takes Johnny very little to get to the gist of it. He’d usually nose at your clit through the cotton of your panties, bite at the flesh of your thighs to tease you and get you wet. There’s no need for it this time—your knickers are already past the point of salvation.

He pulls them down and off, not sparing an inch of your skin from the hungry onslaught of lips. Legs draped comfortably over his shoulder, the soft fat of your thighs cushioning his ears.

Johnny dives in.

Your groan scratches your throat when the flat of his tongue lands on your clit. Tingles ripple from your sex to your head—some electric shockwave that makes your toes curl and your throat tight.

You collapse onto the pillow, and you let go.

Johnny licks fat stripes or twirls his tongue around your clit, sucking it in at times. You moan and whimper like cameras are pointing your way, like you want the man who’s stolen your couch, your privacy and your sex life to know how good Johnny’s making you feel.

Your eyes are closed but your mouth is open, fingers curled in a fistful of his hair. 

It’s then that you start riding Johnny’s face. He stays perfectly still, tongue out and conveniently flattened against your sex for you to grind against it.

It’s been so long since you felt him pant against your cunt, so long since you’ve had him tucked between your thighs until your hamstrings ache.

So long that you think you might cum already, and you’re not even five minutes in.

And you feel it in your stomach first, taut and clenching. You feel your orgasm grow as Johnny allows you to take it from him, handing you the reins of your own pleasure.

“M’gonna cum,” you breathe.

The only way you know that he’s heard you from beneath the duvet is because a muted groan echoes from somewhere below you, and his fingers tighten around your hips.

“Gonna fuck her after this, Johnny?” 

Your orgasm withers, but not as much as your heart.

You jolt away from your boyfriend even though you're suddenly petrified, scrambling in an attempt to pull away from his tongue.

But he doesn’t let you go—no. 

Johnny, the bastard, holds you with a resolve you’ve never witnessed before, and uses one hand to quickly shove the duvet off both your bodies.

Cold air slaps your bare skin. Gooseflesh rises at the first icy touch, nipples perked and hard. Your eyes automatically follow the voice in the dark, until they land on a shadow lingering at the door—broad shoulders filling the entryway of your bedroom. 

As soon as your vision adjusts, you focus better on it. A pale face stands out on top of a body clad in charcoal black. A hand, you see, palms at the crotch of his sweatpants.

“Johnny—” You say, or try, in between pants.

His eyes finally poke from between your legs. Swiftly, his fingers take the place of his tongue, rolling more languid circles on the knot of clit—throbbing as your orgasm is rudely snatched away. 

You whine at both the loss of his mouth and the discomfort of being watched.

And yet why aren’t you trying to cover yourself? Why are you still there, naked, back arched to press further into Johnny’s hand, with your fingers uselessly grasping the sheets at your sides?

“Let him watch, bonnie. You said it yerself, aye?” Johnny coos softly.

He can fucking watch for all I care. 

Fuck. You. And your big mouth.

He presses kisses along the stretch marks of your thighs. “Bet he’s not seen a beauty like ye since Christ was born.”

“Cut it out, MacTavish,” Simon barks from the dark corner he's carved for himself. 

In response, Johnny’s breathy chuckle hits your skin.

And while your vision might be compromised, your hearing isn’t. You can clearly hear the soft thud of socks against the hardwood floor. You can definitely feel him looming next to the bed.

You have to blink furiously when Simon turns on the nightlamp, bathing your body in yellow light. 

His eyes, darker than Johnny’s, take you in as you writhe under your boyfriend’s skilled fingers.

You sigh helplessly. “Fuck.”

Perhaps this is too much. Perhaps you’re not ready. And yet—

Simon’s hand grabs a handful of his cock through his sweatpants. You can see the outline of it, fat and straining against the grip of his fingers. A sight so delicious it makes your mouth water.

Your boyfriend catches on the exchange of looks. The way your eyes drop to his lieutenant’s cock. His fingers slow down—and as enraptured as you are, you don’t notice the smile that blooms on his cheeks.

“What d’you want him to do, hen?” Johnny pitches in, finally diluting the soupy mess of your thoughts to reveal what this truly is.

A spotlight on you.

Both men are starving to see, touch, taste. This is heaven, even for an introvert such as yourself. 

Small bug on the wall, observing—for once, observed.

Suddenly, you want that. You want to see them both kneel for you and study your body to learn how to keep it warm, sated, happy.

“Touch yourself,” you whisper before you can think.

Warmth licks at your neck when your own voice reaches your ears.

You swivel your eyes to Johnny again, who’s looking at you with a dangerous glint in his eye—enjoying every bump on your body that rises from the cold, every shiver his fingers cause to wreck your spine.

“You heard her LT,” Johnny says at length.

And before you can utter a word, his mouth returns on you.

Your voice breaks into a moan, eyes rolled back. There’s an insistent fizz in your ears, like there are suds stuck in there. 

Simon’s “Yes ma’am” barely makes it through. 

Slow blinking yourself back to reality, you manage to focus on Simon’s hand which is now stroking his bare cock. Tip a furious red, glossy with precum he smears down his length.

Fuck, you’d pay good fucking money to have it on your tongue, but you’re not in the right headspace yet. You find yourself content with the idea that he’s that hard and that leaking just because you look that hot to his eyes.

Perhaps this is a first step. And it's okay.

It’s invigorating. You love it to bits. So much so that, once again, you hear yourself say “Touch me.”

Johnny’s chuckle vibrates against your clit, but he doesn’t stop. He palms at your lower stomach as he eats you out, keeping you still and comfortable, until you feel your thighs tremble.

The mattress dips under Simon’s weight when he comes to kneel right beside you. The anticipation might kill you, and you’re so focused on him that you don’t realize how impending your orgasm is.

A big hand comes to touch your lips. Simon fits two fingers into your inviting mouth, and you don’t fight it when he touches the back of your throat. 

Instead, you moan at his praise of “Good girl” slipping hoarsely past his lips.

He pulls them out and uses your own spit to lubricate the head of his cock. His cheeks glow red, mouth parted to catch his breath—you never thought a man as apparently indifferent as him could look so delightfully affected.

All because you took his fingers in your mouth like a champ.

You almost cum there and then.

His other hand comes to thumb your nipple. He pinches it, toys with it. He cups your breast in his big hand and squeezes softly just to feel the softness of it. 

He rises upwards, then. Curls those same fingers at the base of your throat in a grip that progressively tightens, until he can hear your breath get stuck in your throat.

It’s then that you cum. 

With the sound of Johnny’s mouth sucking at your clit. With the wet noises of Simon’s cock being tugged in rapid strokes, as if he’s forcing himself to cum earlier than intended.

Your orgasm is so strong that your mind blanks for a moment, not registering the way your voice breaks as you catch your breath again.

Not registering when sudden wetness paints your tits and puddles at your stomach, followed by a groan so loud that it breaks through the fog in your brain. 

When you come to, you blink at the ceiling. 

Your heart pounds viciously, so much that you can feel it on your tongue. It’s wonderful and it would be embarrassing, your current position, if it weren’t for Johnny’s face coming into view.

His lips land fondly on the tip of your nose. “Yer gorgeous when you cum.”

And you smile.

It broadens when another voice joins in, lower and panting, “Affirm. Fuckin’ lovely.”

As you reach down between your and Johnny's bodies with a trembling hand, if only to return the favor, he gently swats it away. However, your fingers make it just in time to feel his softening cock, how wet it is at the tip.

You bet there's a twinning stain on the sheets, too.

“Wee bit at a time, aye?” He offers, kissing your cheek. 

You don’t dare to rebut, as spent as you are. Instead, you allow yourself to be taken care of.

Your eyes blink closed. 

"Did you cum?" You ask dumbly.

"'Course I did." Johnny nibbles at your lip. "Ye taste like fuckin' heaven."

You giggle, obviously flattered, though it sounds quite weak, sleep already taking over your brain.

"You could've fucked me," you tease.

"Nah," Johnny replies, leaving a fat kiss on your mouth. "Woulda killed Simon to see ye—"

"That'll do, Johnny," Simon cuts in.

He doesn't sound angry—more exasperated than anything. He's still panting, though.

You crack one eye open and find him unabashedly staring at his cum dripping down the valley of your breasts.

His hand lands on your forehead, then, brushing back the hair that has stuck to it. It's awkward, like he's not sure what to do but still wants to check in on your well-being.

Through the fog of pure ecstasy, you think he wants to feel somewhat included. Which is why you reach out, your fingers searching blindly for somewhere to land. You find his thigh, the soft fabric of his sweats, and squeeze.

He tenses beneath your palm, but the muscles relax soon afterwards. Welcoming the touch—perhaps welcoming you altogether.

"Tired, aye?" Simon whispers, sounding uncharacteristically tender.

"Yeah," you reply wearily, though his was more of a rhetorical question.

You're too fucked out to realize it. Or to care about realizing it at all.

The comfortable silence that has settled in the room is broken by the shuffle of sheets. The creek of the mattress.

Simon disappears beyond the threshold of the room, only to return moments later with a warm towel in hand.

You get cleaned and pampered, dressed back into your comfy pjs. Sandwiched, at some point, by four arms instead of two, six legs intertwined instead of four.

Your toes are still cold, but the rest of you isn’t.

And you think it can't get any better than this, as you fall back asleep. 

Written for February writing challenge, to fill the prompt "Ghoap x Reader body heat trope"

[imastoryteller]

The Paradoxical Character: 19 Unique Trait Pairings

Here’s a list of 19 wildly unusual, highly contrasting trait pairs that blend quirky or fantastical attributes. These could make for delightfully strange, otherworldly, or surreal characters:

Immensely Patient & Chronically Forgetful Character Idea: They can wait for years without complaint but never remember why they started waiting in the first place. Their endless patience is undercut by the confusion of purpose, creating an aura of timeless mystery.

Unbearably Charming & Involuntarily Invisible Character Idea: This character has charisma in spades but is cursed to flicker out of sight randomly. Their allure is magnetic, but people constantly forget they were even there, adding to their mystique and frustration.

Perpetually Cheerful & Pathologically Suspicious Character Idea: They radiate sunshine and kindness yet believe everyone is secretly plotting against them. Their optimism is baffling, considering they’re convinced of hidden dangers everywhere.

Mind-Reading Empath & Emotionally Oblivious Character Idea: Able to feel others’ emotions intensely, yet baffled by their own, this character has no clue how they themselves feel. They’re highly attuned to everyone else but entirely alienated from their own heart.

Limitless Curiosity & Existentially Terrified Character Idea: Endlessly fascinated by every detail of the universe, yet they’re constantly haunted by the fear of the universe itself. Every new discovery brings wonder and intense dread, creating a fascinating internal tug-of-war.

Brilliant Strategist & Hopelessly Absent-Minded Character Idea: A tactical genius who can plan a perfect heist, yet constantly forgets their own plan halfway through. They’re sought after for their brilliance but just as likely to wander off mid-operation.

Supernaturally Persuasive & Pathologically Indecisive Character Idea: They could talk anyone into anything—if only they could decide what they wanted to say. Their powers of persuasion are legendary, but they take forever to make a single choice.

Ancient Wisdom & Childlike Innocence Character Idea: Despite being impossibly old and wise, they approach every situation with the wonder of a child. They’re both sage and novice, baffling people who come seeking advice but receive only wonder-filled observations.

Obscure Knowledge Hoarder & Shameless Gossip Character Idea: They know every forgotten fact of history yet can’t keep a secret to save their life. This character’s deep knowledge clashes hilariously with their loose tongue, turning historical mysteries into idle chatter.

Zen-like Tranquility & Quick to Panic Character Idea: Usually the calmest person in any room, until anything unusual happens, at which point they’re the first to run. People turn to them for peace until their sudden freakouts reveal a hidden, hilarious irony.

Hyper-Logical Thinker & Ridiculously Superstitious Character Idea: Obsessed with logical consistency yet terrified of stepping on cracks or upsetting minor spirits. Their rationality makes them a master problem-solver, but they’re comically fearful of common superstitions.

Effortlessly Graceful & Magically Clumsy Character Idea: They’re naturally elegant in all they do, but objects randomly fly out of their hands or shatter in their presence. They’re revered for poise but cursed by chaos, creating an aura of unpredictable charm.

Telepathically Intuitive & Immensely Gullible Character Idea: Able to sense the unspoken thoughts of others, but easily duped by the most obvious lies. They sense everyone’s hidden motives but constantly believe in harmless nonsense.

Exceptionally Knowledgeable & Epically Lazy Character Idea: They’ve accumulated endless knowledge from books but refuse to do anything with it. They could save the world but prefer napping and observing others fumble around in ignorance.

Magnet for Coincidences & Cynically Skeptical Character Idea: The most absurd things constantly happen around them, yet they refuse to believe in coincidences. This character is a walking contradiction of fate and disbelief, surrounded by odd events they disdain.

Hyper-Attentive Listener & Mute Character Idea: They pick up every nuance of conversation and are incredibly insightful, but they can’t respond out loud. People find comfort in their presence but struggle to understand their silence and deep gaze.

Radiantly Optimistic & Obsessed with Disaster Preparedness Character Idea: Always smiling and convinced things will work out, yet constantly building bunkers and storing supplies. Their sunny outlook is shadowed by an apocalyptic readiness that baffles everyone.

Unbreakable Memory & Instantly Distracted Character Idea: They remember every moment of their life in perfect detail but are so easily distracted that they rarely finish sentences. They’re a walking history book if only they’d stay focused long enough to share it.

Boundless Energy & Always Asleep Character Idea: They have an endless zest for life and could do anything—if they could just stay awake. People are drawn to their energy, but they frequently fall asleep mid-sentence, leaving everyone in suspense.

[forerussake]

INSTANT DEATH BY GRENADE BLAST #362

DMBJ: making an olympic sport out of suspension of disbelief

[vigilante-3073]

Honey & Lemon

Draco Malfoy x Female Hufflepuff Reader

Summary: Draco Malfoy has always longed to be loved and accepted. As he falls in love with Y/N, a studious young Hufflepuff, he starts to wonder if his happy ending may be closer than he could've expected.

TW: Lovesick Draco, kissing, hand holding, jokes.

Draco Malfoy met Y/N L/N when he was in his third year at Hogwarts. If he had to be completely honest, he didn't know that she existed before she stood in front of him after their Potions class that day.

Y/N had always been a good student but she had a lot of trouble with Potions. Y/N had gone to Professor Snape for help and he sent her to Draco for some tutoring. Draco was at the top of the class and Y/N could learn a lot from him.

"Hello," Y/N said softly, holding her books close to her chest as she stood in front of his lab table.

Draco glanced at Blaise before looking up at the Hufflepuff girl, "Can I help you?" He asked, not bothering to hide his disinterest.

"I've been having some difficulty in this class and Professor Snape recommended that I speak to you about possibly receiving some assistance," She said.

Draco straightened in his seat at the mention of the Professor, "What's your name?" Draco questioned.

"Y/N L/N," She replied.

"Alright, Y/N, bring your supplies to the library after dinner tonight. I'll meet you there," Draco said.

She smiled, "Thank you," Y/N said quickly before making her way out of the classroom.

Draco watched her leave, the smell of her perfume lingering even after she had disappeared out the door. The scent was light and warm with notes of vanilla and citrus.

"You're tutoring Hufflepuffs now, Malfoy?" Blaise questioned with a smirk.

"Shut up," Draco snapped, gathering his supplies.

Draco and Y/N met in the twice a week and she eventually began to get the hang of some potions. She still struggled, but she was much better off than she had been.

Y/N wanted to learn and it frustrated her that she wasn't picking it up like everything else. Draco almost found it humorous, seeing such a sickly sweet person be anything other than delightfully pleasant.

As their potions class approached its final days, Draco found himself disappointed. He had grown quite fond of Y/N during their time together and he wasn't ready to see it end.

They sat in the classroom for their final tutoring session, brewing the last potion that he would assist her with. Y/N was focused on her textbook, following the directions carefully and adding each ingredient to the bubbling cauldron.

She dropped the final item into the liquid, taking a breath as she stirred the potion. A victorious smile appeared on her face as the liquid changed to the desired color, a bright and beautiful green.

"I did it," She said, looking to Draco.

He watched her with a soft smile, "It's like you don't even need me anymore," He teased.

"Of course I need you, silly. I wouldn't have known how to prepare half the ingredients otherwise," Y/N said, sitting down in the chair beside him.

"You would've figured it out. You're smarter than you give yourself credit for," Draco said.

"Thank you... That means a lot," She replied softly.

"I was wondering, since classes are almost over... Do you want to go to Hogsmeade with me after exams?" Draco asked.

"Really? You'd want to go with me?" Y/N asked.

"I would... I actually have a bit of crush on you if I'm being honest," Draco said, fidgeting with his quill.

"You do?" She asked, a smile slowly appearing on her face.

"Yeah," He stated.

"I'd love to go to Hogsmeade with you, Draco," She replied.

...

From that day forward, Y/N and Draco were inseparable. They continued to study and work on assignments together, he walked her to all of her classes and snuck over to the Hufflepuff table to sit with her during meals.

If the teachers noticed, none of them said anything. Y/N was good for Draco and her companionship had changed him.

Draco was kinder, the vicious jabs he often slung at other students had dwindled and the difference was definitely noticeable. Draco was absolutely smitten, devoting all of his extra time to Y/N.

Y/N made him happy.

Draco had never experienced real happiness in his life and it made him value what Y/N brought to his life so much more. Draco had only ever known pain, violence, disappointment and loss.

His father held him to an incredibly high standard that he had never been able to meet. Draco strived to be the greatest, but always found himself finishing in second or third place.

It made him angry and he chose to lash out at those around him. Y/N exuded warmth, kindness and love every single day, Draco found himself drawn to her like a moth to a flame.

Draco considered himself to be blessed when Y/N woke up every morning and chose to spend her time with him. He was lucky to have her by his side and he knew that.

Draco was determined to keep her existence a secret from his father for as long as possible. Draco had talked about Y/N with Narcissa and she was excited to meet the girl, but allowed Draco to decide if and when they would be introduced.

He wanted to keep this one good thing untainted, even if it was just for a little while.

Draco didn't know what he would do if his father ordered him to break up with her. He couldn't do it, not to Y/N. Maybe it was selfish of him, but he couldn't bring himself to care.

Y/N had introduced him to her parents briefly when they met at the train station at the end of their third year. They were delighted to meet him, welcoming him with opening arms after everything their daughter had told them.

Draco had never seen Y/N's cheeks go so red and he couldn't help but smile, taking her hand in his. Y/N's mother had even made him a batch of cookies, promising to send more if he enjoyed them.

Her parents were just as warm and kind as Y/N and he fell for her even harder. He felt lucky to be accepted into such a beautiful family, especially since they knew who he was. Or more importantly, who his father was.

People tended to judge him without getting to know him because of who his parents were and he didn't blame them. He hadn't done much to establish a good image for himself, but he was working on it.

Y/N made him want to work on it.

Draco was beginning to think that he had gotten away with keeping Y/N's existence a secret until the start of his fourth year. Lucius insisted on taking Draco to Diagon Alley to shop for his fourth year supplies. Draco kept his head on a swivel, hoping to spot Y/N before she saw him if she was out shopping.

He was embarrassed, but not of her, his father tended to blurt out rude comments that left an awful taste in people's mouths. Draco hoped to avoid the interaction, he didn't want Y/N to endure any of his father's abuse.

"Draco!" Y/N called, he immediately froze and his body tensed.

Y/N made her way through the crowd with her parents following closely behind her. She wrapped her arms around Draco and he quickly returned her embrace. He held her close, breathing in the scent of her perfume to steady himself before letting her go.

"How was your holiday?" Y/N asked with a smile.

"It was good. How was yours?" He questioned.

"Fantastic! I got a lot of new books that I can't wait to share with you," Y/N said.

"Hopefully you got a few on Potions because you are still just awful at that?" Draco teased.

"I did actually. I've been reading up over the break so hopefully I'll be able to teach you something this time around," Y/N replied.

"I look forward to hearing all about it," Draco smiled.

"Aren't you going to introduce us, Draco?" Lucius questioned.

Draco's smile fell, "This is my girlfriend, Y/N... Y/N, I'd like you to meet my mother and father," Draco said.

"Nice to finally meet you both, Mister and Missus Malfoy," Y/N greeted.

"You as well, dear, I've heard a lot of good things," Narcissa smiled.

"How long has this been going on?" Lucius asked.

"Since last year, father," Draco admitted.

Lucius' eyes flickered over Y/N's form before looking behind her at her parents, "You should be focusing on your studies, Draco, not gallivanting around with a Hufflepuff," He spat, scowling at the young girl.

Y/N tensed, "We actually met when Professor Snape chose your son to be my tutor in Potions. Respectfully, you can't get any higher than top of the class, Sir" Y/N said.

A tense silence settled between them before Lucius replied, "A Hufflepuff with a backbone... I suppose there's a first time for everything," He stated, walking off and into the next store.

Narcissa sighed, "It was nice to meet you, dear," She said with a smile.

"You too, Ma'am," Y/N replied.

Narcissa introduced herself to Y/N's parents before following her husband into the store.

"Darling, we're just going to head into Flourish and Blotts. You can meet us there in a bit, alright?" Her mother questioned.

"Sounds good, mum," Y/N replied with a smile.

The couple quickly disappeared into the crowd, allowing Draco and Y/N to spend a moment alone.

"I'm so sorry for my father. I knew he'd be like that and I tried to keep him away from you," Draco said, holding her hand in both of his.

"You don't have to apologize, Draco. He's your father and I would've needed to meet him sooner or later," Y/N said.

"Yeah, I guess you're right about that," He nodded.

"Your mum is really nice," Y/N said.

Draco huffed a laugh with a smile, "Yeah, she's been wanting to meet you for a long time," He said.

"How long is a long time?" Y/N asked.

"I wrote to her after our first tutoring session in the library. I really liked you," Draco admitted.

Y/N leaned forward and pressed her lips to his in a gentle kiss, his eyes drifted shut and his hands shifted to hold her hips. She pulled away and his eyes fluttered open, leaning his forehead against her's with a soft exhale.

"You're the best thing that ever happened to me," He said, lifting his hand up and tucking a strand of hair behind her ear.

"I feel the same way about you," Y/N smiled.

...

The time for the Triwizard Championship had arrived and the competitors were selected from the Goblet of Fire. Of course, by some random burst of impossibly bad luck, Harry Potter's name flew out of the goblet and into Dumbledore's hand.

Draco attended the events with Y/N by his side, the amount of risk involved with the competition made her nervous. Her nerves just meant that she held on tighter to Draco so he couldn't complain.

Draco was excited when the time came for the Yule Ball, he asked Y/N to be his date the minute it was announced and she couldn't keep the smile off her face for the rest of the day.

Draco offered to pay for her dress, but Y/N brushed him off and assured him that she already had the perfect gown.

Y/N couldn't have been more right.

Draco was absolutely awestruck when he saw her making her way down the stairs on the evening of the Ball. She was wearing a floor-length gown made of lace and silk with her hair done perfectly to match.

Y/N looked like a princess and Draco was completely speechless.

"You look absolutely stunning," He finally managed, taking her hand as she made her way down the staircase. His thumb absent-mindedly ran across her knuckles, unable to tear his eyes away from her form.

"Thank you. You look handsome," Y/N replied.

"I'm glad you think so," He smiled, looping her arm through his and resting his hand over her's on his bicep as they walked into the Great Hall.

It was a wonderful night, they danced for hours before Draco led her away from the crowd, "Is everything okay?" Y/N questioned.

"I love you," Draco stated.

Y/N smiled widely, cupping his cheeks in her hands and kissing him. Draco rested his hands on her waist, holding her close until she pulled away.

"I love you too, Draco," Y/N replied.

They spent the rest of the Ball together before the students began to disperse. Draco walked Y/N back to the Hufflepuff dormitories. Her shoes dangled from her fingers, her other hand holding onto Draco's as they walked through the castle.

Draco's bowtie was untied, hanging loosely around his neck. He glanced behind him when the voices and laughter of other students fell silent.

Draco slowed to a stop, still holding onto his girlfriend's hand, "Hold on for a second," Draco said.

Y/N stopped walking, turning to face him "Is everything alright?" She asked.

"I've been waiting to get you alone all night long," Draco said.

Y/N smiled, "And what did you have in mind now that you have me, Mister Malfoy?" She asked.

"Oh, I don't know, but I certainly won't be keeping a very respectable distance if that's alright with you," Draco said, resting his hands on her hips while backing her into the stone wall.

Y/N wrapped her arms around his neck, "I don't mind at all," She replied.

Draco leaned in, pressing his lips to her's as her hand tangled in his hair, manicured fingernails scratching gently at his scalp.

His arm slid around her waist, large palm pressing against the small of her back and pulling her body closer to himself. His thumb traced over her hip bone, grip tightening as his tongue slipped into her mouth. Y/N moaned softly into the kiss, tugging gently on his hair.

The couple pulled apart quickly as someone cleared their throat. Draco wiped her lipstick from his bottom lip with his thumb as Y/N tried to catch her breath, cheeks flushed and eyes downcast.

"Helping Miss L/N return to her dormitory are you, Mister Malfoy?" Snape questioned.

"Yes, Sir," Draco replied.

"No snogging in the hallways," Snape stated, walking off down the hallway.

Draco burst out laughing as soon as Snape was out of earshot.

Y/N smiled, swatting his chest, "That was not funny, Draco! I'm absolutely mortified," She scolded half-heartedly.

"Of all the people in the world who could have possibly caught us snogging," Draco laughed with a shake of his head. He wrapped his arm around her waist as they continued on their way to the Hufflepuff dormitories.

They arrived at the entrance to her dorm far too soon for Draco's liking. He watched her input the password before the door opened.

"I had a lot of fun tonight, Draco," Y/N said.

"I did too," He nodded.

"I love you," She smiled, leaning in and pressing a gentle kiss to his lips. His hand cupped her cheek, thumb brushing across her skin gently.

Y/N pulled away and he smiled down at her, "I love you too," He said, leaning forward and pressing a kiss to her forehead.

Y/N stepped away from him, "Sleep well, Draco," She said softly.

"You too," He replied, watching her step into her dormitory.

The door closed behind her and Draco walked back to the Slytherin dormitory with a smile on his face. He got changed, flopping back onto his bed with a happy sigh.

Draco looked over at his nightstand, there was a picture of him and Y/N. They were talking, she laughed at something he said and he just smiled at her.

It was his absolute favorite picture of them.

The picture made him think about what his life could be like, he could see a future with Y/N and he wanted it more than anything.

Draco wanted Y/N more than anything.

[tinyproprodigy]

𖤐 ִֶָ 𓂃 🧷

"C r u s h , c r u s h , c r u s h ."

Bakugou Katsuki x reader - (NB)

• Bakugo's crush on you started innocently enough - he begrudgingly admired your work ethic and quirk control during training sessions. But then he noticed the way your (e/c) eyes squinted slightly when you concentrated, and the adorable crinkle of your nose when you were deep in thought, and suddenly his heart was exploding like one of his nicely aimed AP shots.

• Whenever you're in the vicinity, Bakugo can't help but sneak glances your way, only to whip his head around with a fierce scowl when someone (usually Kaminari) catches him staring. "I wasn't looking at that loser, you idiot!" he'll growl, tiny explosions sparking at his fingertips.

• Mina and Sero live for teasing Bakugo about his crush, much to his chagrin. They'll make over-exaggerated googly eyes at him whenever you walk by, or loudly proclaim things like, "There goes the love of Bakugo's life!" This inevitably results in Bakugo chasing them around, threatening bodily harm if they don't shut their "damn traps."

• There's a running bet among the class on when (or if) Bakugo will finally admit his feelings. Kaminari has money on "Never, he's too proud." Mina is convinced he'll blurt it out in a fit of rage someday. Kirishima just wants his bro to be happy.

• In the rare moments when Bakugo musters the courage to talk to you, he instantly reverts to a flustered, stuttering mess. His ears burn bright red as he tries (and fails) to act casual, inevitably resorting to angry yelling to cover up his embarrassment. "Quit staring at me like that, (L/N)! Don't you have better things to do than bother me?"

• Despite his gruff exterior, Bakugo is incredibly protective of you. If anyone so much as looks at you the wrong way, they'll find themselves on the receiving end of his explosive fury. He insists it's just because you're a fellow hero-in-training and he refuses to let his talents be outshone, but the class knows the truth.

• There's a notebook buried deep in Bakugo's room where he's meticulously analyzed all your quirk's capabilities, strong points, and areas for improvement. In the margins, doodles of your face and little explosions shaped like hearts decorate the pages. If anyone ever found it, he'd simply combust from mortification.

• During particularly intense battles or training exercises, Bakugo finds himself pushing harder than ever before, determined to impress you with his skills. Afterwards, he'll try to play it cool, like your presence had no effect on him whatsoever. But the glow of pride on his face when you compliment his power is unmistakable.

• You, precious reader, remain delightfully oblivious to Bakugo's inner turmoil. You see him as a passionate classmate and respected rival, making his crush on you all the more endearing (and frustrating) for the explosive boy. The rest of Class 1-A watches on in amusement, waiting for the inevitable explosion when Bakugo's feelings finally reach critical mass.

• No matter how much he growls and glares, at the end of the day Bakugo is an awkward teenage boy stumbling through his first real crush. And while his methods are unorthodox (and often involve yelling), his feelings for you are as bright and dazzling as one of his explosive blasts, lighting up the sky for all to see.

[itaipava]

— little hints f1 boys would give that they have a crush on you.

˒ ⌕ LANDO NORRIS

he is interested in all your passions and hobbies: even if it is something he knows little about, he’ll ask you about your passions or things you like to do to have more to talk about with you and to get to know you even better. he also likes to research on the internet and send you videos that he finds about your favorite topics and, when you least expect it, he will start conversations about it, leaving you surprised but happy to know that he puts a lot of effort into connecting with your world.

˒ ⌕ GEORSE RUSSELL

he always includes you in his plans: whenever he travels, he talks as if you’re going too, without even inviting you directly. when you ask him about it, he usually says, “well, you’re going with me, aren’t you?” and when you can’t go because of work, he gets really frustrated, but he makes sure to keep you updated. he’s also always saying “we should check out that new place together… when are you free?” or “wouldn’t it be fun if you go with me for the next race?” he loves planting the idea of ​​future moments with you, and he loves it when they actually come true.

˒ ⌕ SEBASTIAN VETTEL

he loves teasing you: he always looks for a way to tease you, but always with a touch of flirting, which leaves you wondering if it's really just a joke or if he means something with it. he also hates it when someone else does this and he doesn’t hide his anger, and it’s at this moment that you also don't miss the opportunity to tease him; and the look in his eyes tells you that in fact, he doesn’t tease you just for fun.

˒ ⌕ CARLOS SAINZ

he always offers to help you with whatever you need: no matter what you need, he will do whatever it takes for you and to make your life easier. he will get you a coffee (and a sweet treat) in minutes when you say you want it. he will buy you something you said you needed but couldn't because you were too busy. he will come to your house to fix that broken drawer. he will always be there for you, even when you don't ask him directly, he will be there.

˒ ⌕ CHARLES LECLERC

he always remembers little details about you: sometimes he'll casually mention something small that you've said in the past, like your favorite snack or a specific memory. and sometimes you're delightfully surprised by how accurately he tells you these things because you could swear he'd forgotten or didn't really care, but he's always paying extra attention to you and everything you say is important to him.

˒ ⌕ LEWIS HAMILTON

he always compliments you a lot: but they’re not generic compliments that you always hear, he focuses on unique characteristics of yours that he really admires, like “you always have a way of making everything more fun and cool” or “you always seem to know the right things to say”, he’s always complimenting you, and he always means it.

˒ ⌕ OSCAR PIASTRI

he always looks for reasons to text you: he likes to send you news about your favorite singers, bands, authors or something he knows you’ll like. it’s things like “you popped into my head when i saw this, and i had to share” or “doesn’t this remind you of that joke you made?” and he always tries to keep the conversation going, no matter what.

˒ ⌕ LIAM LAWSON

he is always your biggest fan: whatever you do, he gives you all the support and help in the world. he is always the first one to show up when you need encouragement, whether it’s to wish you good luck at an event or send you a bouquet of flowers with a little note, or a brief message saying that he believes in you, and that he knows everything will turn out fine. he also loves talking about you to people like “did you see what y/n did? she’s amazing, right?” he is your biggest fan, and he doesn’t hide it from anyone.

˒ ⌕ MAX VERSTAPPEN

he looks at you a lot: when you two make eye contact, you have to look at something else first because he can’t get enough of you - and he loves it when you get embarrassed about it. he also loves to admire you when you’re distracted and don’t realize he’s looking at you; he loves looking at you and learning your mannerisms. to him, you’re the most beautiful person he’s ever seen, and even though sometimes you catch him staring at you and ask him with a smile what he’s looking at, he doesn’t stop or give you a serious answer, which creates a spark of curiosity in you.

[hgfictionwriter]

Midnight Satisfaction

Jessie Fleming x Reader

Summary: Jessie wakes up flustered and needy one night and you catch her relieving her frustrations alone. You tell her there’s no need. You’re there for the taking - whether you’re awake or not.

Warnings: G!P content. Free-use reader. Consensual borderline somnophilia. Masturbation (J). Language.

A/N: This combines two requests I received. Thank you to those anons. This is not connected to Control or Discovery.

Jessie stirred from her sleep, fidgeting in bed slightly until the tightness in her boxers warded off all residual drowsiness. She glanced down and even in the darkness of the room could see evidence of the arousal that had woken her from her sleep.

She exhaled a bit roughly in frustration. Not only at this nocturnal need she'd awoken with, but at the loss of sleep. She had an early practice and needed all the sleep she could get.

She huffed again and turned onto her side, closing her eyes as she tried to find sleep once more. Instead, she was sorely distracted by the throbbing between her legs, any movement doing nothing more than making the need more unbearable. Normally, it would pass on its own, but this particular instance persisted and she felt impatient.

She peeked over her shoulder to look at you. She could hear your breathing, so she should've known you weren't awake; still, when she saw you cuddled up in the blankets fast asleep, it disappointed her anyway. Sure, there was no guarantee you'd be interested in helping her with this particular hardship, but with you asleep there wasn't even a chance. Now, frankly, the erection straining in her boxers was merely a nuisance.

She released a muffled growl of complaint as she quietly tossed the covers off, careful not to wake you, before she padded over to your ensuite bathroom. She closed the door behind her and turned on the light, wincing and screwing her eyes shut for several seconds until ready to brave the bright lights again. She opened one eye, then two, still frowning heavily as her vision adjusted.

As she approached the toilet, she glanced down and was met with the sight of the blatant tent in her boxers from her arousal. She sighed once more.

Lifting her phone in one hand, she unlocked it and began to navigate to her hidden photos. A lazy smirk crossed her face as she accessed them and saw thumbnails of various photos of you in lingerie or fully naked posing for her. Her favourite of all were the ones of you touching yourself, positioned on your back, legs spread.

Her mouth opened in appreciation of the photos and she slipped her other hand into her boxers to pull out her hard cock, it standing stiff and erect now unencumbered by the fabric. She reached out to grab some lotion and returned her hand to her cock, wrapping her fingers around it and massaging the lotion along her length. She lingered at the tip, circling it with her thumb and couldn't help but picture your skillful tongue doing the work instead.

She moaned softly at the vision in her head.

Returning her attention to her phone, she opened up one of the photos. She'd caught several glorious shots of you masturbating. In this one, your hand was between your legs with two of your fingers spreading your lips while a third pushed inside you.

"Fuck," Jessie whispered as she began to stroke herself more fully.

The next image was you rubbing your clit, your head tossed back, sprawled on the bed you two shared. She began to slowly rock her hips into her waiting hand as her mind delightfully reminded her of how good it felt to be inside of you. God, she loved how tightly you hugged her, the sounds you made - the ones that came from your mouth, and the ones that came from between your legs - the way you scratched up her back. It was incredible.

Her shoulders rounded as she ran her fist up and down her length, focusing on pumping just the tip for several seconds before thrusting all the way down and back up.

She wanted more.

She flicked over to a short video you let her take. A loud moan briefly echoed off the bathroom walls before she quickly lowered the volume so it was barely audible.

Her chest rose and fell as she took in the sights and sounds of you pleasuring yourself.

"Jess."

"Oh my God."

"Baby, I need you."

You chanted over and over for her to hear.

Her breath started to hitch as her hand pumped hard and fast around her cock, her hips jacking into her fist as the telltale tightening between her legs began to culminate.

A series of muffled grunts emanated from her throat as her jaw grew slack and her climax hit. Her whole body tensed as ropes of cum shot forcefully from her aching member.

"Shit," she grunted, lost in and distracted by the video of you she wasn't paying attention when she started to cum and the first few spurts hit the lifted lid before she redirected.

A couple more soft grunts fell from her open mouth as her fist travelled up and down her length a few final times, coaxing out the last drops of cum from the tip.

She sighed heavily as she shook herself out and took a moment to rest. She let go of her cock and it slowly began to relax, the tension it previously held now relieved. Her cheeks puffed out as she exhaled once more before cleaning herself up. She flushed the toilet, tucking her now dormant member away into her boxers and washed her hands before quietly returning to bed.

She got under the covers and settled in, her eyelids now heavy in the wake of her orgasm. It wasn't long before she drifted off to sleep.

-----------

The next morning, Jessie quietly got changed, no need to pack her bag as she'd prepped it the night before and it sat ready by the door. You were still asleep and she was about to leave when you spoke, startling her.

"Did you have a good sleep, baby?"

She jolted, nearly dropping her phone.

"Shit. I didn't know you were awake," she breathed as she turned to you. A hint of a playful grin pulled at your lips.

"I don't think you knew last night either," you said, your smile now full-blown.

"Huh?" Jessie asked innocently, though she suddenly stood pin-straight and her face began to feel hot.

You rolled more fully towards her, now planting your elbow on the bed and propping your chin in your open hand.

"Was someone a little frustrated last night?" You asked cheekily. Jessie's face burned hotter and she deflected with a frown though she couldn't hold your gaze.

"No. I don't know what you mean," she mumbled before forcing herself to look back at you and doing her best to appear nonchalant.

Your eyes drifted meaningfully towards her pants and back up.

"Okay," you said lightly. "Well, I'll just say that if you ever find yourself in a," you looked up at the ceiling in contemplation, "compromising, position again, I would be very happy to help."

Jessie pouted, nearly scowling at you even though everything you said was welcoming and encouraging. She huffed and folded her arms, finding herself suddenly very intrigued by everything around the room other than you.

"You don't need to hide it from me," you went on gently. This drew her gaze back to you. Still, she set her shoulders.

"Well, you were asleep. I wasn't about to wake you," she said, her tone borderline complaining.

"You can wake me, you know," you said before you cocked your head, contemplative once more. "And honestly? I'd welcome you waking me up with your," you glanced at her crotch again, "midnight or morning frustration."

Jessie flushed deeply all over again.

"No," she said adamantly with a stern frown.

"Why not?" You countered. You sat up, your eyes bright now. "It would actually be really hot."

She found herself getting flustered; conflicted between what she felt was right and what her mind was conjuring up along with how her body was starting to react. She shook her head in dismissal.

"No, I can't," she said.

You sighed in disappointment. "Fine. But, for the record, I would find it really hot to wake up to you filling me, pumping in and out of me."

"Fuck. Babe," Jessie complained as she shoved her phone in her back pocket and retreated to the bedroom doorway. She pushed away the vague realization that blood was starting to fill her cock and she could feel a partial erection forming. "I'm going to practice," she said tersely.

"Okay, baby," you said, a hint of apology in your tone. "Have a good practice. I'll see you later."

---------

Jessie was less than focused at practice that day. She'd be in the moment on second, following along, keenly alert and aware, then all of a sudden she'd fallen behind or lost track of discussion because her mind was drawn back to your earlier comments.

Her imagination was having a field day.

When she got home, she still felt a bit frazzled and unsettled. You, on the other hand, acted like everything was normal and fine. She half expected you to bring up the conversation from this morning, but you didn't. In fact, she was hoping you'd bring it up again, but sure enough, you didn't say a thing about it and the evening carried on.

She'd debated all night whether or not she should just get up the courage to mention it herself, but the right opportunity never seemed to come around and she didn't know how to broach it otherwise.

Before she knew it, you were both getting ready for bed. You each followed your routines, closing out with Jessie filling your water bottle and setting it on your nightstand before she navigated to her side of the bed and got in.

"Thanks babe," you said, as you plugged in your phone, leaning out of the bed to do so and the blankets slipping off slightly as you moved. Jessie wouldn't have though much of it except her eye caught a glimpse of your body naked from the waist down. She did a double take.

You never wore shorts or pants to bed unless if you were staying with her family or friends or you were out camping. However, that didn't mean you went to bed without underwear. That is, until tonight.

You talked idly to her as you checked your alarm and you had to repeat yourself because she was so distracted.

Yet, despite going to sleep with no panties on, you wished her a good night and just rolled over and went to sleep.

"Y/N?" She whispered after several minutes; sure enough, you were out.

She sighed wearily and reached over to turn off the lamp. It was going to be a restless night.

------

After struggling to initially fall asleep, it came as no surprise to Jessie when she woke up a few hours later, fresh from a vivid, luscious dream, to find herself straining in her boxers yet again.

She grit her teeth and pushed the back of her head into the pillow, burrowing in as she worked to distract herself so she could find some relief, and hopefully, sleep.

The minutes passed and she blew out a huff as the dull throbbing in between her legs persisted and gnawed at her. She cursed herself as she allowed one hand to snake down and begin caressing herself through the fabric.

Instead of finding relief, it just made her hungrier for more. She should’ve known better.

She opened her eyes to stare blankly up at the darkened ceiling. Her eyes shifted to look over at you to see your silhouette. She could hear your slow, steady breaths, but her eyes remained trained on you as your comments from the morning ricocheted back and forth in her mind.

You were direct and explicit with the consent. You repeated yourself, even. But did you really mean it? Just because you said it in that moment didn't necessarily mean anything.

She thought back to the flash of skin she saw as you leant out of bed.

It had to be an invitation.

You knew her too well.

She reached through the slit of her boxers to free her cock from the confines of the garment. She exhaled silently through her lips as her fingers traced along her length, her thumb settling on the head and finding a bead of precum.

She contemplated a moment longer before she committed, rolling gently onto her side and shifting closer to you. You were on your stomach facing away, your far leg up and bent at the knee and your arms tucked under the pillow. Jessie's heart raced as she tentatively reached out and very gingerly rest a hand on your hip. You didn't stir, and it also confirmed for her that you were most definitely not wearing underwear.

Feeling a touch more bold, Jessie very gently began to run her hand down your bare thigh, her fingers barely touching your skin. You still didn't react as she drew her hand back up to your ass, her thumb idly grazing your skin.

She examined your sleeping form once more and between the feel of your curves and skin under her hand and the prospect of being inside your warm, inviting pussy, her cock was now painfully hard.

She moved carefully once more as she allowed her hand to wander downward and soon her hand could feel the heat radiating from your core. She swallowed and slowly brought four fingers to very gently cup your heat. A pulse of arousal went through her at the initial contact.

She watched you closely, your breathing changed, but you didn't stir. She remained entirely still for several seconds as she debated whether or not to continue or retreat. When your breathing grew audible once more, she slowly drew her fingers back towards your entrance.

Her jaw dropped and her eyes fell shut as her fingers were met with your slick juices that pooled there. The pulse that went through her just moments before repeated ten fold at the sensation and she couldn't resist the urge to circle your entrance with her thumb, your tunnel so wet with arousal that her digit easily breached it and slipped in to her first knuckle.

Her eyes flew open as something akin to a subtle moan escaped you and you shifted against her. She froze, but your reaction - subconscious or not - had stoked something inside of her and after a moment she withdrew her thumb, before pushing in slowly again, this time coupled with two fingers very gently circling your clit.

She watched as you very subtly stirred, a faint moan leaving your lips and your body pressing itself further into the bed just so.

Minutes prior, Jessie had been concerned about getting lube without waking you, but based on how absolutely soaked you were, that wasn't going to be a need for worry.

She flexed her muscles and very delicately lifted herself off of the mattress to position herself better and gingerly lowered herself so she was lined up with your entrance. She grasped her length and softly ran it along your slick lips, allowing your juices to coat her. She felt your folds part for her as she gently pushed the head of her cock through them and across your clit with her hand as a guide. She drew back and pushed through again.

A slow smile formed on her face and she did it again with greater confidence. She did it a few more times, each time drawing further back until each time her tip nestled against your dripping entrance. She resisted the urge to slip inside and instead kept stroking your lips and clit.

She saw your shoulders flex and your head lolled into the pillow. Your breathing changed once more and you shifted further. Her pulse quickened once more as she realized you were waking and she paused mid-stroke.

She saw you blink in the dark of the room before your eyes fell closed once more, not even bothering to look back at her, and you simply rolled your hips against her hardness.

Jessie took a sharp breath at the gesture and she drew her hips back, her hand still guiding her cock, but this time when her head slotted into the inviting dip of your entrance, she gently pushed the tip inside.

You moaned quietly and she smiled as your head rolled against the pillow further.

Encouraged, she pushed in slightly before drawing back so her tip was stretching out your entrance, threatening to slip out, before pushing fully inside.

This time you moaned fully and deeply, your back arching as she slotted home. No longer needing to guide herself, she wrapped her arm around your waist and pulled you closer to her.

She rotated her hips back, her cock withdrawing partially before rotating forward and massaging your walls as she filled you up once more. A moan muffled by your pillow reached her ears.

Not worried about waking you any longer, Jessie began to thrust into you with increasing pace and intensity. She held your body in place as her firm cock hit that pillowy sweet spot inside of you again and again.

Your whimpers and moans grew louder and she heard the twisting of fabric as you clutched the sheets into your palms. You shifted your far leg higher up the bed, inviting her in further and she wasted no time.

“Mm, Jess.”

You opening yourself up and moaning her name dismissed any and all lingering reservations she had.

She lifted herself up more, consequently pushing you flatter onto your stomach, her hands braced on the small of your back. She began to lift her hips high, her tip nearly slipping out before driving quickly into you, her hips bouncing off of your ass, the clapping of skin now echoing off the walls.

“Oh fuck,” you whimpered as you white knuckled the sheets further and buried your face into the pillow.

“You feel so fucking good,” Jessie said, voice shaking in time with her quick, skillful thrusts. “God. It’s like you were made for me,” she praised, digging her fingers into your skin over the thought.

You let out a small cry and spread your legs further apart, pulling an appreciative growl out of her. She slowed her pace slightly and dug her hips into you even deeper, and angling to hit your g-spot more firmly. You clutched the pillow now, holding onto it with a desperation that fuelled her.

“You’re such a tease. Climbing into bed, pussy on display for me, knowing what that’d do to me,” Jessie voiced as she pumped you into the mattress.

You let out a wanton moan, but flashed an impish look over your shoulder at her.

“Waking up to your cock teasing me is as good as I thought it’d be,” you relayed with a breathy laugh. You moaned again as Jessie sent another jolt of pleasure through you. You arched your back further into the bed. “Next time I want to wake up to you fucking me. I want to wake up with your cock stretching me out.”

“Oh Jesus,” Jessie groaned as she fucked you harder, drawing a gasp from you. “Oh shit,” she hissed as her orgasm rapidly approached and her strokes grew fervent.

Soon the pace was relentless and you let out a cry into the pillow, gripping it tightly to your face. You writhed beneath her and a rush of liquid poured out of you and onto the sheets. You began to spasm around her and continued to muffle your cries with the pillow.

“Oh fuck,” she panted, letting the sensations overwhelm her as she slammed into you one more time, releasing her seed as deep inside of you as possible. She grunted through her orgasm as she felt jet after jet of cum rush up her length and out the tip into your waiting heat.

“Oh my God,” she said breathlessly several moments later as she finally drew her hips back unsteadily, stuttering forward as her orgasm tapered off.

She collapsed on top of you, cock still buried in you, fully warmed and embraced by your walls. Her chest expanded and contracted as she tried to catch her breath. She laid a kiss on the back of your shoulder.

The primal haze of your fucking still lingered and she spoke as she gently stroked your arm.

“Forget safe words, if you don’t want to wake up with my cock inside of you going forward, wear your underwear to bed. Otherwise, if I wake up wanting you, I may just have to take you.”

You shifted beneath her restlessly, your tunnel tightening and gripping her as you moved - whether intentionally or not. “Mm, Jess. You’re going to work me up again. And I made a mess of the sheets already.”

She smirked. “Exactly. So what does it matter if you do it again? I’ll gladly do the laundry if it means I get to make you squirt all over this bed with how good I make you feel.”

“Oh Jesus,” you breathed, rolling your hips once more. Jessie was already growing hard inside of you again.

“And,” she kissed your other shoulder, “when I’m done. I might just fall asleep inside of you. Might as well if I’m going to fuck you as soon as I wake up.”

[strangererotica]

EXPLICIT CONTENT | MINORS DNI

Dom!Steve Harrington x Sub!Reader • SMUT • play fighting/dominance, grinding, light degradation, pet name ‘Princess,’ is used, partially-clothed sex, fingering, unprotected vaginal sex, squirting

Steve’s thigh crushes over yours, pinning you down. Your stomach meets the thick beige carpet under you as he easily flattens you against the floor. Steve chuckles arrogantly, his handsome grin beaming. “I’ll admit it,” he says in between breaths. “You put up a good fight.”

Steve wraps his arm across your chest from behind, locking you under his forearm. You wriggle and thrash to free yourself, but it’s no use. Steve won; he has you pinned. He climbs astride you, grunting when the hard bulge in his pants nudges your ass just right. Steve adjusts so his erection is lined up in the space between your cheeks, his arms caging you. You’re both still fully-clothed at this point. The fabric separating your bodies is a small obstacle for Steve to overcome, and he’s in no hurry regardless.

He takes his time enjoying your ass, humping between the soft curves of your form. The weight of his body on you is simultaneously comforting and slightly intimidating. Steve is much stronger than you; the pressure he exerts holding you in place is proof of it. He overpowers you easily, grinding your crotch into the carpet with his. “Y’gave me a lot of trouble, Princess,” Steve scolds. “Instead of putting out like a good girl, you made me work for it.” Steve’s fingers slide through yours as he pins you, his big hands closing into fists around them. Lowering his lips to speak, Steve’s breath kisses the shell of your ear in a delicious threat: “Now you’re gonna make it up to me...”

He flattens against your upper back, pinning you in place while bringing his hands around behind you. You twitch under Steve’s weight, fighting to free yourself but not really. It’s the illusion of danger that excites you, the game that is your struggle. Steve is the only person you trust when it comes to playing rough.

Accepting defeat, you lay your cheek against the carpet. Steve hooks his fingers under the waistband of your leggings, ripping them down off your ass. You wince at the sting produced by the fabric being yanked down your thighs. Steve doesn’t fully remove the leggings, leaving them cinched around your calves. It only makes his win more degrading for you, fucking you partially undressed. It’s as if you’re nothing but a piece of meat that doesn’t even deserve to be comfortable while Steve takes what he wants from you. The gritty scruff of his pubic hair rubs against your ass as he adjusts on top of you. Steve grunts at the delightfully frustrating fun of pinning you, his stiff cock throbbing against your ass. You instinctively arch into him, which Steve finds amusing. “Maybe you wanted to lose, s’that it?” he gloats. You nod meekly, your face rested against the carpet. Steve reaches between your legs and teases his fingertips along your inner thigh. You shiver as his touch ghosts over your lips. Steve exhales awestruck at the feel of your slick on his fingertips. He pulls his hand to his lips and samples the flavor of you on his fingers. The groan that leaves Steve’s chest is animalistic, the sound of a hunger so deep, it’s primal. He shoves one finger inside you, then a second, cursing when your gummy walls suck around him. Your eyes close, fingers clawing at the carpet for some kind of control as Steve removes the last bit of resistance from you. He pumps in and out of you with just the right amount of force. His fingers work your cunt in a perfect blend of aggression and tenderness. The sound of your juices sloshes audibly around Steve’s fingers as he thrusts them in and out of you. His cock prods your inner thigh like a third arm poking into you, your movement completely restricted by the confine of your leggings. Steve fucks an orgasm out of you with his fingers, cum gushing between your squeezed-together thighs, muttering praises over your back in a voice you can barely make out over your grunts of pleasure. The muscles inside you contract around Steve’s fingers in a sucking motion that has his tip leaking onto your thigh, his cock lodged between your legs. Your mouth is spread open in a dull scream, a line of drool spilling from your lips and melting into the carpet.

Steve releases your pussy and smacks his wet palm against your ass. He admires the slippery print his hand left, leaning in to lick the cum off your ass like a reward. Squeezing the fat of your hips to brace himself, Steve mounts you again, his cock wedged between your legs. With a hard thrust, he enters you, growling as your walls spread around him in a warm, wet grip. You whimper gratefully as Steve takes you, arching into his thrusts, wanting nothing more than to be used for his pleasure. After the orgasm he just gave you, Steve knows your brain is switched off at this point. His hips smack against your ass in hard thrusts, stroking your insides in a delicious rhythm of dominance.

He shoves his arm under your stomach, pulling your body up into his. Steve’s stomach ruts against your back as he pumps into you, each thrust pulling him closer, your gummy walls milking him for all he’s worth. Even in your blissful delirium, you can’t help but come again. Steve whimpers into your shoulder as your walls choke and suck around his cock. He can’t hold out any longer, joining you in climax. Steve’s body shudders against yours as he comes, his hips flat against your ass, grinding you into the floor. Semen jets inside you in thick bursts, spattering your cervix in Steve’s cum. Sweat drips from his hair onto your shoulder, his heartbeat thudding against your back. Steve releases some of his pressure on top of you, shifting his weight to his arms.

The warm gust of his breath dusts your neck, sending one final shiver through you. Steve feels it inside you, your walls fluttering around his cock. He kisses your shoulder gently, nuzzling his nose against your neck. “Looks like we both won,” he teases, his voice groggy and satisfied.

Twisting under Steve’s weight, you manage to flip over onto your back. His cock slips out of you and onto the floor, heavy and wet. “I don’t mind being a sore loser,” you reply. “As long as you’re the reason I’m sore…”

[in-som-niyah]

"Its so lonely in my mansion"

a/n: ok so i found this in my drafts and its just a little wip for an au where Jason takes advantage of reader's loveless marriage because he finds her in such a pitiful situation that de decides to 'help her out' ;)

Warnings: dark-ish!Jason, manipulative!Jason, cheating reader

side piece!jason who climbs through your window at first to hide from someone, he was about to leave until he caught your figure in the bathroom mirror’s reflection. you were married, but where was your husband? he’s looked into your window too many times and hasn’t seen you with him yet. It’s coincidence really, your luxury apartment is just such a good vantage point, it’s not his fault he can hear your whimpers of defeat when you can’t get yourself off on your own. Jason is in the business of helping people. so he’s going to help you.

It starts off easy, running into you randomly, showing up at your law office as a “client”, getting you flowers (sent to your house of course) and gifts. If he sees your eyes linger on an item in a store (that he’s definitely not spying on you from) it’ll end up in your doorstep.

He waits for some kind of pushback from you, any respectable man who actively takes care of his wife would be offended if another man were to step in and do his job for him. If his wife was happy, she wouldn’t want any other man to take care of her. But here we are: a windy gotham night ruffles the petals of your latest bouquet from him, Jason’s ears delightfully plagued by your silent pleas into a sleepless night.

Slowly, he works his way into your comfort zone and is invited over, of course he’s a respectful gentleman but Jason can’t help but fist his cock in his car because the blouse you were wearing was just a little too low in the neckline.

His perversions continue, coffee after consultations, giving you rides home, showing up at your house to give you cookies

His resolve is snapped when you kiss him goodbye one night, after too many glasses of wine and a conversation about your husband being on constant business trips while you collected dust. It was refreshing to have someone in your corner, someone who doesn’t see all the money that he gives you and tells you to just enjoy it.

Jason loses his mind, drives home and doesn’t even bother to take his keys out of his door. His mind is consumed with how well your lips meld together, how your tongue moves against his, how you playfully bit his bottom lip just to tease him.

He hasn’t felt this insane since forever, and he loves every second of it. Ropes of cum paint his fist for the third time that week, all from thinking about how beautifully damned was a caged bird like you. Just waiting for someone to snatch her up and swallow her whole.

Weeks go by of him showing up randomly with a new story about how his day had the most interesting turn of events. Phone calls carrying into all hours of the night, talking about any and everything, building your trust. You mention that your husband was never interested in the frivolities of your firm, or the silly stories of the weird people you saw on your way to work. It felt so good to have someone that actually listened to you and took account of the things you said.

In the back of your mind, you knew it was wrong. You were married for fucks sake. Your husband paid for the best life anyone could ask for, but wasn't that enough? As much as the ethics of the situation spun your head, were you really going to go back to another night of frustration without him?

[cheezb6llz]

Hi! Well, I don't know if you make a specific kind for mobian readers, but if you do, I could ask you to make a Yan! Shadow and Knuckles x Fennec fox! Reader who's just so silly with everything and when they're kidnapped they're like "Hmm, good morning? It's very comfortable here:3"

And sorry if my English is bad, I'm still learningT^T

YANDERE SHADOW X DELIGHTFULLY SILLY MOBIAN READER

i tried to add some fennec fox stuff but i was struggling lololol hope you like it still!!!!

———

You wake up to the softest, coziest bed you’ve ever been in. The pillows are plush, the air smells nice, the room is just ridiculously cozy after all.

You stretch out, yawning, then you pause when you feel something cold wrapped around your wrists.

You look down.

Yeah, you’re definitely cuffed to the bed.

You stare at the chain for a moment, tilting your head, and instead of freaking out like any normal person would, you just.. Shrug.

“Hmmmm.. Good morning!” You chirp, stretching your legs beneath the blanket. “Woww.. This is nice. Fancy room? Top tier comfort? What, did I win a prize?”

A deep sigh is heard from the corner of the room.

You look over, and oh-

Shadow is standing there, his arms crossed as he’s just.. Watching you.

When you meet his gaze, a soft smirk peeks at the corner of his lips.

“Ohhh I get it now!” You giggle, tail flicking behind you. “I was kidnapped! Wow, that took me a second-“

“It’s not kidnapping.”

Shadow cut you off, crossing his arms.

“It’s securing our future together.”

“Sooo.. Totally kidnapping?”

His eye twitches.

But instead of getting frustrated, he just exhales and nods, stepping forward towards the bed.

“Fine. If that’s what you want to call it.”

You beam. “Oooh! So you admit it! Cool, cool.. Sooo what’s next? Ooh, do I get breakfast in bed? Do captives get a menu??”

He leans down at the edge of the bed, pressing his hands against it.

“You don’t need a menu.”

He smirked slyly.

“I already know all your favorites.”

Your ears perk up. “Oh! Perks of being stolen by a stalker!”

He chuckles softly.. Actually chuckles. He should be annoyed by your lightheartedness, but this..

This is exactly why he chose you.

You’re perfect.

“Hmph.. If I knew you’d take this so well..” He slowly moved to the side of the bed to get closer to you, tracing his finger along the sheets. “I would’ve done this alot sooner.”

You giggle. “Wowww guess you really lucked out, huh? Kidnapping someone who actually appreciates good interior design!”

“Yes.”

Yes.

This is exactly how he always imagined it.

——

LOVED IT

[poetryvampire]

painfully needy Rolan going into rut

Had this on the brain lately. I don't think it would take much to make Rolan an absolute mess but imagine how worse it would be when he's going into rut. Boy would snap so fast

Rolan x afab non-tiefling reader

Have some 🔥spicy🔥 musings

*this went longer than I wanted lol. But if you like it tell me if you want more 🧡

● Rolan had been doing this dance with you for months now. Both working at Sorcerous Sundries you saw each other regularly, even tried to work together as much as possible (not that he'd ever admit that). The banter, the playful mockery leading to not so subtle flirtation was easy until now.

● The conversations didn't flow like before. A joke about becoming a doe eyed scarcely dressed maiden -like the ones on the covers of those novels you so enjoy- suddenly lead his mind to wander. Any wisecrack replaced with the image of you gazing at him so lustfully. An image that stays with him for the rest of the day (and night).

● Lia and Cal are very vocal about his uptick in irritability. He tries to ignore them but they're not wrong. Ever little thing sets him off. He's frustrated at himself. For letting the feelings get so far without truely noticing. For being too proud or too embarrassed to act on them.

●He often forgets his words as his eyes lingered on your lips, your neck, your figure. More than once you caught him staring and to his surprise no offense was taken. Just a quizzical look, perhaps a soft smile that flooded his face with warmth.

●Rolan would have almost preferred you'd have met him with anger. Now the hope of you ran rampant through him. That if he was ever to give in he may be met with the embrace he so longed for. The need for you was growing by the day. He even took care to not stand to closely to you now. He coursed himself for it. How had he become so starved for affection that even the scent of you sprung his body to life.

●The wizard had spent many nights forced to take action if he was to ever find sleep. He'd be tangled in his sheets, hair wild, trusting violently into his own fist. He tries to keep his fantasies to more abstract forms of pleasure but as hard as he tries the vague shapes melt into crystal clear images of you. It would always be you around him like a vice that would push him over the edge.

● There were times he'd lose himself so throughly he'd cry out your name as he came. Embarrassed by this lack of control, Rolan told himself it was better to happen here than in front of you.

● Going into work that morning something felt off. Rolan's whole body felt extra sensitive, aching. The horrible thought finally struck him at midday. Was he going into rut? Now!? With such little warning? He calms himself. He's not certain after all.

● Until he's been paired with you to clean out and old study turned storage room. He's hyper aware of your scent. Its filling his lungs,making his knees weak. The room isn't exactly small but it's stuffed with stacks of books making moving around a problem. You're constantly having to squeeze (delightfully, terrifyingly) close to each other.

● Luckily you're busying yourself with the task at hand. Rolan prays you won't notice how red (red-er) his face is or the sizable bulge he's currently cloaking with a stack of books. The straining against his pants is almost painful. He's eyeing the door, anything to escape the heat building in his blood.

●His eyes fall back to you and all notions of making a run for it leave his mind. Along with everything else that isn't right in front of him. You looked a vision, standing on and old box body spread across the book self as you attempt to reach something on the top shelf. Not only was it a perfect view of your form, it reminded him of a pose one might see in an old painting.

●Suddenly the box wobbled threatening to send you falling backwards. Your scream was cut short as you felt Rolan catch you, arms wrap around your middle tightly pressing you to him. His face buried in your hair he couldn't help utter a deep groan. The wave of intoxicating aroma washing away his last bit of restraint.

●With ease he flips you around, pressing you into the shelf, a maon escaping your lips. Your hands came to his chest not to push him away but in a gentle caress.

●'Rolan? Please,' was hardly out on your mouth when they were swallowed by his lips. He kisses you like a drowning man breaking the water's surface. Madly, desperately as if any second you may be taken away for him. Hungrily he deepens the kiss and your lips part for him with ease, both of you relishing in the taste.

●It's only when you part for air he realizes he's been rocking his hips into you. An apology catches in his throat as you grind back against him. He's dizzy with lust, his own heartbeat pounding in his ears.

●His lips find your neck, kissing, sucking and biting. Trying his best not to break the skin. Your moans drive him on. His hands are frantic running all over you. Soon your hands lead his to the laces on your dress. He makes quick work of it.

●Rolan takes you in his arms again and lays you down on a near by table. A little too eager he tears your under things away completely. But to his awe you only laugh and spread yourself out for him to drink you in fully. You're a goddess in his eye and he intends to worship.

●Words spill senselessly from him as he lavishes you with his mouth. 'Fuck, Fuck! You're beautiful you're perfect. I need- God's, l need you I need you.' He hasn't the brain for elegance now. He's kissing you everywhere maoning words of love into your skin.

● As he makes it to your thighs he cannot help but bury is face between them. The sweet taste of your sex has him throbbing with out so much as a touch. He wants to make sure you're nice and ready for him. You're not a tiefling after all and he couldn't bare the thought of hurting you. It doesn't take long before you're dripping wet against his tongue as he slides wildly between attacking your entrance and your clit.

●You stifle a scream as an orgasm suddenly rips through you, your thighs shaking in his grasp. Youre still panting but you pull him away, drawing him closer to you. As you pull him into a soft kiss your hands unlace his pants (finally) freeing his erection. Though to hold him lightly his gasp is sharp. He's painfully hard; his head already glistening with precum.

●As he runs he length against your folds he tries to center himself. He doesn't want to be too rough or finish terribly fast. He wants to go slow but when he catches on your entrance he can't help but thrust into you, the relief of his agony so close. You tremble but encourage him on. His name quickly becoming a soft prayer on your lips.

●He's wrapped inside you now, almost all the way. The pleasure overwhelming him he opts for quicker shallow thrusts. He's taken aback by how vocal he is as more sweet lustful nothings spill from him. Rolan's control is fading fast. He's practically shaking, slamming himself into you losing whatever rhythm he had. The sight of your face contorting with pleasure is pushing him to his end. He can feel the hot pull in his gut. And suddenly something else as.

●A chill runs over him as he feels the swelling at the base of his cock. He grasps it and pulls out not wanting to subject you to something he didn't even take the time to explain. In part he's too late. He didn't fully knot but he still comes hard, spilling thick ropes all over your stomach and thighs. Fuck, you're beautiful like this.

● He blushes deeply and panics, apologizing over and over. He didn't want it to be like this. You run your fingers through his hair and kiss him gently. You don't know that much about teifling biology but Gods you wanted to learn. Rolan tries to believe you, that this wouldn't scare you off.

● He adjusted his pants, somehow still as uncomfortable as before. Perhaps it was the sight of you dressing. How you made no move to do away with his mess before you did. He could take you again easily. But not here.

● You convince him to claim illness and leave work early. To take time to rest. He agrees wanting to lock himself away from the world. And yet he also agrees to meet you that night. Then he'd have a more level head. A chance to explain himself and perhaps to hold you in his arms for longer.

Xoxo thanks for reading friends ❤️