#I’ve been thinking about drawing this piece for a while

[thexsilentxwordsmith]

Simon "Ghost" Riley x Fem!reader, Johnny "Soap" Mactavish x Fem!reader

Fandom: Call of Duty

Character(s): Simon Riley, John Mactavish, Reader

Summary: Friends and coworkers, Sgt. Mactavish and Lt. Riley have one thing in common: how much they want you, though one is less vocal about it. During a night out, you think you've secured one lover, but suddenly you are leaving out of the bar with both as all that intense attraction comes to a head.

Word Count: 8.8k

Warnings:

“Aye, would you look a’ that,” the Scottish sergeant nudges the silent and skull-masked lieutenant at his elbow, nodding towards the subject that has caused his sudden outburst. “She decided ta come after all.”

Two sets of eyes lock to the door as a familiar face steps foot inside that dingy little hole in the wall bar right outside the base, the one that the boys happen to frequent quite regularly whenever downtime is available. Tonight is one of those nights where most of the squad is here, ready to let loose for the first time in months and though you don’t always feel the need to imbibe with your teammates, tonight…tonight just feels different.

“Fuck, she does look a sweet thing tonight, doesn’t she, L.T.?” Sgt. Mactavish says with an unsubtle lick of his lip just before he takes another big swig of his lager, his eyesight lingering a bit too long on your legs, risking him getting caught. 

How is he supposed to look away when that dangerously short denim skirt and tight little top you’ve decided to wear leaves barely anything to the imagination, that gorgeous figure of yours on display for any hungry beast to devour with his gaze?  

“Settle the fuck down there sergeant,” Lt. Riley shoots back with a lilt of agitation, his sight narrowing with the furrowing of his brow under his black balaclava as he stares pointedly at the younger officer, “ya know the fuckin’ rules about fraternization. Ya really gonna risk it all on a recruit?”

A snort exits out of the scot’s nose as he sets his glass back on the tabletop with just the foam from his beer pooled at the bottom. “Ye sayin’ ye wouldn’t try an get a piece ‘a that if ye had tha chance?” he snickers out the question as the lieutenant raises the bottom of his mask before grabbing his own glass, ready to bring it to his lips. “Guess all the times I’ve caught ye lookin’ musta been my imagination then.”

Lt. Riley pauses with his cup half raised. “Drop it while you’re ahead, Johnny,” the command is firm and he continues on with his drink, hiding behind the disguise of his stoic demeanor to convince the sergeant that he isn’t gnawing at the bit to get another glimpse of your curves in that revealing little outfit as now you’ve given him so much silky flesh for his eyes to devour. He has to bite his tongue hard to keep himself from losing it. 

“Rules be damned, ye know you’d hit if ye had tha chance,” the sergeant whispers under his breath as he waves over the waitress to order another round for himself. “ ‘sides, they’re more guidelines anyways.”

The lieutenant is never going to admit it out loud to the cocky sergeant, but he hates how right he is with his statement. There is something about you he yearns for, that draws his eyes constantly, that keeps him filled with fantasies enough to fuel each one of his late night wank sessions for months and months now. He’s becoming insatiable even though he’s better at keeping a straight face, but inside he is burning just to get a piece of you. Too bad there is no way in hell he’d ever get the chance… right? 

You can feel eyes on you from the moment you enter the establishment, though at first you aren’t sure where they are coming from until you pass by the table where a couple of officers sit on your way to the bartender and you hear the distinct sound of choking. From the corner of your eye you can see Sgt. Mactavish sputtering into his glass, coughing up the beer that’s gone down the wrong way as the lieutenant next to him smacks his bicep and you have to speed up to hide the smile spreading across your mouth.

Drink secured and in hand you cross over to one of the tables sequestered by your company as a small group of privates wave you over and you take a seat, still keeping an eye on a couple of specific officers. This isn’t the first time you’ve noticed certain behaviors from them whenever you are around; at this point it’s almost obvious that they are taken with you, though they still pretend that they are hiding it well.

You like that attention, almost crave it. It’s a strange little game that you can’t help wanting to play with them, but more than that you want it to lead to something. Just a night, one night, to know at least one of them biblically; that’s all you want.  

Every once in a while as you sit there drinking and joining in bits of cheerful conversation, you’re sure you catch them stealing quick glances your way while the other is distracted. You start to wonder: what would it take for either of them to ever risk breaking the rules just to have a little something with you? 

You study them for a while and the two have really been putting them back. All that liquor has to be lessening their inhibitions, evident by the way they start getting sloppy with their glances. Now, instead of sneaking peeks in your direction, they are lingering a bit too long and if you time it right you just might catch them in the act.

The later it gets and the more liquor that snakes its way down your throat, the more bold it makes you and soon you’re thinking about ways you can put that question to the test. You’re not shy by any means, but you know when to play your cards and when to hold your hand and right now you think it’s the perfect time to go all in. If you can just get either one of them alone and make a move, maybe that would be enough to have them give you what you want: a night as their plaything.

Sure enough, not even a few minutes later you lock eyes with the sergeant. It’s only for a moment before he quickly diverts his gaze, but not before you pop off a sly little grin that you know he can see. There’s a reason behind your smile that you know he is able to read. In that split second that your eyes connected, even in the dimly lit bar, it felt like he was trying to undress you with his gaze and now he knows that he’s been caught red handed.

Oh yeah, this is your moment and you are going to take it...but how? 

How are you meant to make your move if neither has been on their own for long enough for you to get close? It’s like they are purposely making it more difficult for you than it has to be… at least that is until you watch Sgt Mactavish quickly stand to his feet, finish the last swig off his new glass, and take off in the direction of the restroom. No clearer sign could be given; this is the only chance you’re going to get and you know you have to take your shot.

It’s now or never. 

Abandoning your drink, you wait a couple minutes before slipping out of your seat and away from your table to make a beeline straight behind your target. The closer you get the harder your heart pounds in your chest. What is your plan once you corner him? There isn’t one, not now that you’re closing in on your goal. This could all blow up in your face, but at least you have to try; the punishment will be worth it.

Closer and closer the door gets until you are on it. Heartbeat in your ears you slowly and quietly open the door and peek your head inside. Your eyes clock only a singular pair of feet and with a quick glance behind you at the rest of the bar, you open it fully and step inside. With the handle still in your hand, you back yourself into the door to softly close it and engage the lock. 

The sound of flushing and the zipping of a fly makes you lose focus before you can finish making sure you won’t be disturbed as the sergeant comes out to see you standing there completely out of the blue.

“Did ye get lost lass?” the scottish sergeant questions playfully as he crosses the small room to the sink.

There’s only silence, his question is left unanswered as you decide that this is the time for action, not words. He isn’t aware that you’ve made your way over to him until it’s too late and you have your hand pressed firmly right to the middle of his taut chest, pushing him back into the wall right next to the sink as you move in close.

“What’s all this about, hmm?” he asks curiously, trying to keep calm under your touch.

You look up into his face, a gleam in your eye that he can’t ignore. “You know what this is sergeant,” you smirk, teeth looking more like fangs ready to sink into his skin, “or do you think I’m oblivious to how you’ve been looking at me?”

Subtle isn’t your strong suit when the liquor starts rushing through your system and right now you are using that to your benefit. Bright blue eyes stared back into your own, a spark as if from a match igniting within them that shimmer through the irises as he stares back at you. 

“Been wonderin’ if ye would pick up on that,” he says as he smirks right back at you, not trying to hide anything now that he has been read to filth. “It’s been gettin’ harder and harder to be coy when yer ‘round.” 

What is he supposed to say again? There is something he should be telling you right now, but he can’t remember as your body presses into his. No, that’s not entirely true. He knows what he needs to say he just desperately doesn’t want to say it, not now when his hands are getting their first real feel of all these curves he’s been dreaming of having under his touch for so long.

But he has to speak up, if only to cover his ass later.

“We shouldn’t, ye know the rules and…” he hesitates with a shuddered breath as his fingertips connect with a bit of skin along your hip and you promptly cut him off.

“I won’t tell if you won’t,” you say.

The movement of his hands stops and he looks into your face. “Yer serious?” he questions with a lick of his lips, his jaw shifting as he impatiently waits for you to reply.

You can’t help but smirk. “As a fucking heart attack, sir,” you murmur as you lean yourself into his hands so that he has no choice but to keep them on you. “I know what the rules say, but I don’t care, not tonight. I want you, so what the hell are you gonna do about it, hmm?”

You take his hand in yours and bring it up to your breast, placing the palm directly over your shirt and closing his fingers around the tissue. Watching his hand closely you can see it twitch as if he is struggling with himself on whether he should remove it or keep it there and maybe do something more. 

You look back up into his eyes. “Gonna let this opportunity pass you by sergeant?” you ask, laying the seductive tone on thick for good measure. “I thought you were a man of opportunity.”

Well goddamn you don’t have to tell him twice. The blood racing violently through his veins makes his temperature spike as he grabs you by the waist to spin you round so that your backside rests against the edge of the small sink. He stares at you silently and you fear that you may have overstepped, but then his gaze shifts. 

“Ye best know what yer askin’ for,” he says.

“I do,” you respond. “So are you going to keep standing there, or…?”

Without another word he picks you up with little effort, his biceps straining against the sleeves of his t-shirt, and sets you on the countertop next to the sink. Your legs are already open, but he parts them further with his hip so that he can slip himself between them, hiking up your skirt so that it sits on your waist and leaves your panty-covered pussy exposed. Immediately his hand harshly catches you by the back of the head, making you gasp in response to his roughness.

My, he is an eager boy, all ready to play.

He stares at you, chest heaving pronouncedly up and down as he feels like he can’t take a full breath, the focus somewhere else in his body now. You are caught up in the moment of peering back into those baby blues as they gaze back at you with an intensity that makes your heart pound faster. 

Is it getting hotter in here or is it just you? You can’t tell. The haze overtakes you and the next thing you see is his face leaning in silently and suddenly your mouths are connected together, instantly breaking that tension in the best fucking way possible: with a moist, sticky embrace that has left little room for breathing.

His grip in your hair is strong, holding your head in place so there is nowhere for you to turn and you are forced to accept the brunt of his need on your lips until you can feel them burn the harder he presses. There is stubble along his jaw that pricks your cheeks and the skin around your mouth, adding another layer of sensations to the mix already working on your lips. The taste of the cheap beer that he had just chugged is still on his breath, crisp and hoppy and it hits your tongue with its sharp bite, but it does little to deter you from taking every ounce of his embrace.

Your own hands run up the back of his neck through the cropped bits of hair around his mohawk. The feeling of your fingers against the short hairs make that cocky bastard shiver before melting into you and you sigh into his mouth at the delicious reaction. Is it that easy to make him fold? Oh, you are going to use that against him in the future.  

Strong fingertips bore themselves into your hip, pulling your pelvis more flush against his and fuck if there isn’t something hard already pressing back against your sex; it does feel good to your inebriated brain to rub your barely clothed pussy against the bulge forming through his jeans.

“Shit, ye tryin’ to make me blow right here? Haven’t even gotten to the fun part yet,” he says playfully with a hiss against your parted lips.

Your hips roll into him again. “Guess you better get me the fuck outta here quick sergeant,” you shoot back, “cause I’m not stopping. Gotta itch that needs to be scratched something terrible.”

Catching your bottom lip, he pulls it out of that mischievous smile it is currently contorted into and sucks it between his teeth to give it a nip. “Ye are full of surprises, lass.”

“You have no fucking idea,” you whisper onto his mouth before you are back on him in another flurry of heated, frantic kisses that make you lose track of everything outside of his mouth.

“Ehem.”

At some point the bathroom door had opened and closed, though neither you nor the sergeant had taken notice of the prominent squeak of the hinges. Both of your heads unlock and turn towards the sound of the familiar voice where the imposing figure of the lieutenant takes up the entire frame, his arms crossed over his chest as he stares back at the mess you two have already become. 

Your heartbeat pounds in your ears as anxiety sets, making you momentarily forget what you know and fear that this is going to ruin everything for you…until you see it. There is a sparkle you detect in those dark eyes, the same one you’ve seen before. Even with his stoic posture, you know that this isn’t a reprimand that’s coming and it makes you feel at ease.

“L.t.” the Scottish sergeant greets him. “I… I mean we…” 

Lt. Riley doesn’t say a word as the man still between your legs struggles to come up with some explanation for what the lieutenant has just walked in on and as he does you notice that the masked officer isn’t paying him any mind, instead he is staring straight at you. You are full of fire tonight now that you have a bit of liquid courage in you and that makes you prepared to do whatever you need to to get what you want. Instead of letting the sergeant flounder on, you interject.  

“See something you like, lieutenant?” you ask as you keep your eyes locked to him. 

Sgt. Mactavish turns his attention back to you, surprised by your attitude. “What?” you ask him with a chuckle. “Did you not know that the lieutenant here looks at me the same way you do? Or has he been able to fool you?”

Pushing back the sergeant so that you can get to your feet and straightening your skirt back down to at least cover your ass, you make your way over to the other officer currently present in the small space. Those striking amber eyes never leave yours as he looks down at you through the space in his balaclava; this is the closest you have ever been to this beast of a man, but instead of being intimidated at all by his impressive size, you are only thinking about climbing him like a tree.

What’s happening? 

Before you can stop yourself, you blurt out the thought that had just burrowed its way into the front of your brain without even thinking. “You know…there’s enough of me to go around if you want,” you say. 

That strong jaw shifts beneath his mask; is that a smirk you can nearly make out through the fabric? “Is that so?” he questions curiously, that low, gravely tone sending a shiver down your spine. “What makes ya think I want anythin’?”

You chuckle again. “Fine, then tell me I’m wrong, but I can’t help wondering why you would follow us in here,” you push back. “To piss? I doubt it; you haven’t even tried to move from this spot. To catch us?”

You pause, but he doesn’t interject. “I don’t think that’s it either,” you say with a smirk.

Lt. Riley knows you can be strong willed when you want to be, he’s seen it time and again during training and in the field, but now that it is directed at him it is something else… something that is making him weak the longer you talk. 

“Well?” you ask, not letting yourself back down. “Are you going to fess up?”

Several seconds of heavy silence permeate the space and yet the lieutenant still doesn’t speak, not even to confirm or deny your suspicions which already speaks enough as is.  

“That’s what I thought,” you answer yourself with a shake of your head.

Taking a step towards him and extending your pointer finger you poke the tip directly into his sternum as you look up at him through heavy-lidded eyelashes. Even from that one pressure point you can feel how fast his heart is pounding and fuck does that feel like some sort of accomplishment in itself.

“Don’t think you’re any slicker than Sgt. Mactavish over there,” you say under your breath. “I can feel your gaze lingering on me all the time, lieutenant, and I’m certain it’s not because I’ve done anything wrong. Are you going to try and deny that? Come on, sir, tell me I’m wrong.”

Standing back, Mactavish watches from the sidelines as you put that massive man into his place and fuck does that make his heart skip a beat. Strong-willed women are the Scots one weakness, someone to push back when he shoves and give him a run for his money. Just the way you were kissing him seconds ago he knows he would be absolutely knackered come the morning and he desperately wants to get out of here to get started on that as soon as possible. Goddamn, if he gets any harder he is gonna rip through the zipper of his jeans.

You push the lieutenant some more. “So, how about you stop undressing me with your eyes and just do it for real,” you challenge. “Or is your hand enough to keep you satisfied?”

“Watch your tongue, luv,” he says. 

The lieutenant is struggling to find the words to tell you off, but presented with something he desperately wants they simply won’t come to him. So there he stands, silently staring as he comes to terms with the fact that he is throwing caution to the wind and taking what he wants. The only thing that has him hesitant is the fact that you were just wrapped around Johnny.

Sensing that delay you turn your attention back to the only other person in the room with an idea even more insane than actually trying to approach one of them in the first place, but opportunity keeps knocking and you are going to keep answering. 

“What do you think, sergeant? Think we could have another join in with our fun?”  

If it will get him a chance to have you, Mactavish is willing to do anything, even if it means he has to share. It’s not like it’s with some stranger; LT is a friend, his colleague, a blood brother. Actually now that the idea is presented before him, he has to admit that it doesn’t sound half bad. He wants to fuck you, but maybe he wouldn’t mind watching you be fucked too.

“I can share,” the sergeant says with a smirk. “What ‘bout ye, LT?”

Turning your attention back to the lieutenant with a smug grin on your face, you wait for his answer. Lt. Riley shakes his head and follows it with a defeated sigh; this is a terrible fucking idea, but god damn is he in it now. That tension that has steadily been building since you got in close finally comes to a head and the need to take you is overwhelming. All that yearning he has done from afar makes his hands tingle at the thought that they can now be filled with you. 

“Fuckin’ hell,” he growls as he gives himself over to his desires and wrenches that god-forsaken mask above his lips urgently, an arm snaking its way quickly around your waist as he turns you both around and shoves you into the wall directly to his right. Instantly his firm, bulky body is pressed tightly into your curves as he lifts your head by the chin and meets your lips with a feverish intensity that sends your fucking head spiraling.

He is pressed in hard, his kiss even more greedy and desperate than the sergeants had been as he steals every bit of your mouth with his own over and over again, rough and desperate being the signature left on your lips until they are on fire from the friction and you can’t breathe.

“Do ya even know how much I’ve fuckin’ wanted to do this?” he groans into your mouth, the feral lust in his words palpable on your tongue. “Since the moment ya arrived I’ve been fuckin’ chompin’ at tha bit to get at ya. Now that I have ya, I’m gonna get my fuckin’ fill, pretty girl.”

One of his large hands slips down into the back of your skirt so he can fill his palm with as much of your ass as he can hold, pulling your hips forward so that he can grind himself against you. You can feel his cock growing hard the longer he is pressed to you; it’s throbbing on your bare thigh as his assault on your mouth makes it impossible to even think of pulling away.

If it had only been one or the other you would have gladly fucked them right here in this filthy bar bathroom, but there is no way to take full advantage of this opportunity presented to you in such a tight space; you all need to go somewhere that will allow everyone to easily get involved in the screw-fest that is about to happen.

“Who’s room’s closest?” you murmur through his kisses burning across your lips as a damp heat gathers between your thighs. “We need to go.”

There is another warm body at your elbow now, moving in against you as the sergeant nuzzles his face into the crook of your neck, his lips desperately trying to make purchase with your warm, silky skin; he was getting lonely waiting for Simon to finish getting that first bit of contact and he needs more. 

Fuck, is it good to be you right now stuck in the middle of this lust-filled sandwich.

“That’d be me, sweet,” the sergeant groans into your ear, finally answering the question that you had almost forgotten you’d asked.

You break away from the lieutenant long enough to give Mactavish a proper kiss for giving you what you wanted, a little treat for being good before you put the question to the lieutenant. “Are we going or not?” you ask him, hand reaching up to outline his strong jaw with your fingertips.

The touch from your fingertips makes his skin burn under the contact and he is ready to drag you out this instant. “Johnny, let’s go,” he agrees and you all quickly exit the bathroom as inconspicuous as possible, which with the way your cheeks are now flushed bright red and the two men stalking behind you tug at the crotches of their pants is a feat in itself, but somehow you manage… you think anyway.

The moment you are all outside the heat-packed bare and into the cooler night air, the change in temperature seems to fuel your giddiness. No matter where you turn there is a hand or an arm around you somewhere, pulses racing violently that can be felt through all the touches of skin to skin like a drumbeat to make you all walk faster until finally the base comes into view.

But amongst the flirty touches there is a bit of secrecy that the two men share between them, whispers that you can’t quite make out as they keep you preoccupied and you leave it be as you can’t be bothered to care what they keep murmuring about to each other.

You've barely clambered your way inside Mactavish’s room before the tension of the moment can no longer be kept restrained. The door is flung shut with a bang and your body is immediately pinned to it, each man claiming a side of you, desperately exploring every inch of your curves through your clothes as they move in closer. Your needy bodies grind against one another like animals in heat, rubbing and touching, greedy hands roaming until you three are nothing more than a tangled mess of hot, glistening skin covered by a thin layer of fabric.

Lt. Riley is the one to take the lead as his fingers dart to your skirt, lacing them into the waistband and ripping the small piece of jean fabric down off your hips until it crumples to the floor at your feet. You flash him a smile as you pull his mask up and off his head so that nothing restricts you from getting at his lips. You barely have time to register the coif of dark blonde hair and stark features that get revealed to you as you are immediately standing taller on the balls of your feet to bind your mouths together in a kiss that sets his soul on fire. 

A pair of rough, weathered hands glide across all this new skin available to their touch, capturing as much as they can hold, playfully flirting across your lower abdomen and the seams of your panties that still cling to your form for the moment before they too find their way onto the ground. 

Not one to miss out, the sergeant's hands splay up under the bottom of your shirt with fingers that have a need to feel even more skin. You release the brown-eyed lieutenant and lick your lips to get the last of his taste off with your tongue before turning to the other and that spunky scot darts in before you can take a full enough breath to fill your lungs. 

The back of your head bounces off the door as he aggressively takes your mouth as if it is his property, only pulling from your lips long enough to jerk your top and bra up and over your head in one smooth motion, throwing them both to the ground behind him before he dives back in. 

Your wrist is in the lieutenant's grasp now as he forcefully tugs at it, bringing it into place over the massive bulge tenting the crotch of his jeans. The stiff peak meets your touch and bobs in rhythm to match the pounding of his heartbeat and you rub the swell before cupping your palm up against it. His bassy groan fills your head as his lips descend onto your neck in feverish fashion and you undo the clasp on his pants, rip down the zipper, and shove your hand inside the recesses of his clothing to massage him through his underwear.

With your only free hand you loop your fingers around the clasp of Mactavish's own pair of denim and using feeling alone you tug and pry until you are able to unhook the button. He leans his hips into your hand to help and soon the pants are barely clinging around him so that the slightest movement will cause them to fall.

"Open your legs," you hear that heavy British accent as the lieutenant whispers the husky words into your ear from his place just under your jaw as your mouth still dances with the other officer.

There is pressure over your lower abdomen and you adjust your stance so that the gap in your legs is wider. That heavy mitt slides down past the hem of your panties and straight inside, descending right to your petals that he is pleased to find already a good bit damp.

His thick finger teases around your silken lips, tantalizing your body with anticipation before he finally parts through the barrier and drags that thick digit up the length, gathering as much of your wetness on it as he can before he goes in search of that bundle of nerves he knows is somewhere close. A smile forms on his mouth when you buck against his hand as he lands the pad of his middle finger right on it and presses down.

"There she is," he groans and begins to roll his finger around the organ with a soft and steady touch till he has it throbbing.

The need the action produces rushes through your limbs like liquid fire and immediately you pry down the sergeant's pants, a bit of a struggle with only one hand at your disposal, to expose his skin tight boxer briefs that leave nothing much to the imagination as the jeans fall to his ankles. A moan is hummed into your mouth as you find your way past the waistband and wrap those soft fingers around his throbbing shaft. 

Jesus, both of these boys are packing.

He has to release your lips so he can breathe as the intensity catches him by surprise and his body convulses slightly. "Christ, I've been fantasizin' 'bout that soft hand bein’ wrapped 'round my cock," Mactavish moans, his mouth ghosting around your face as your head is dragged back to the other side to reconnect mouths with the lieutenant. The poor sergeant is too absorbed in the ecstasy of your strokes to bridge the gap between his lips and your flesh just yet. 

He is struggling to speak as the pressure from your hand compressing as your stroke makes him lose even more of the little bit of sanity he has left. "Better than I coulda imagined. Yer a natural, lass." 

The scot’s hands know exactly what to do even though his mind is still reeling from that initial contact and when he looks down, he catches himself pawing desperately at your breasts, cupping them in his hands to massage the mounds, enjoying the weight in his palms as he teases the nipples until they are hard. 

The men unintentionally work in tandem as you do the same to them and with your body being stimulated so thoroughly you are quickly becoming putty in their hands with a mess gathering between your thighs that the lieutenant can feel slowly dripping down his fingers. Good, you are going to need everything to be nice and primed for what they have secretly planned. All that whispering they had shared on the walk back had been for a reason, a plot that they came up with on the spot on how to share their treat for the night. 

Why should you have to choose who to start with and who to leave out? No, there's no need; brothers in arms share everything after all - everything- and you don’t have to be no exception. You wanted to go home with them both and that is how they’d like you to take them. The lieutenant taps the sergeant’s arm so that he is forced to break away and a knowing glance is shared between them. 

"I think our sweet thing needs a bit more, yeah?" Lt. Riley asks his partner in mischief as he pulls away from your lips and Sgt. Mactavish nods. 

The sergeant turns his sight back to you and you meet his gaze with an intoxicated, doe-eyed look that makes his heart skip a beat. God, you look stunning as a mess like this and he wants to make it worse. 

"We're just gettin' started," he breathes into your face.

"Come 'ere, pretty girl," the lieutenant beckons as he again seizes your wrist in his grasp and draws you over to the bed, his pants slipping off his hips as he moves and he steps out of them so that when he reaches the mattress he only has his shirt and boxers to remove. 

As a mass of naked, bulked-out muscle now, he sits down and situates himself before spinning you around by your hips, ripping off your soaked panties, and pulling you down so that you are forced to be seated in his lap. His cock prods its way through your thighs so you have to open them, veins throbbing from being so engorged. 

Your eyes lock to it through your lap. "I need you inside me," you moan, positioning your hips so you can try and grind against it. "Please, I’ve waited so long for this."

"Mmm, I like tha way ya beg, sweetheart," the lieutenant praises as his fingertips drift across your throat to feel how quick your pulse races under his touch. "I can't fuckin' say no ta that. Let's fix that ache."

Reaching between your thighs, he grabs a hold of his cock and grips it firmly at the base. His other arm secures you around the waist to his taut chest so that he can lean you both back and align the head with your entrance. You can feel the delicious way it prods right at the hole and your body trembles as you wait impatiently for him to thrust it in, your heart beating out of your ribcage. 

That first bit of penetration as the head of his cock slides in stretches you out so fast that you cry out with a jolt, but that arm around you keeps you from slipping. You continue to whine as he thrusts the rest in until he has you sitting on his thighs completely inside your tight cunt, pulsating. His lips gingerly pepper the side of your head with kisses until your muscles relax and your body finally accepts his girth.

“How’s tha’ princess?” he growls low in your ear with his warm breath trickling down your neck to make goosebumps raise along your skin. 

You nod your head up and down in short bursts as you fight with your tongue to recall how speech works. Fuck, you can feel his pulse as his cock throbs as if it has its own heartbeat.

“Ya feel so fuckin’ good,” Lt. Riley grunts as he grabs onto your waist to guide your body so you slowly start to bob up and down on him.   

It’s a good thing he sets the rhythm for you as you can barely focus on anything as the feeling of your superior stretching you out mixes with the adrenaline rush making you lightheaded, but through that haze you glimpse Sgt. Mactavish and beckon him forward so you can tug down his boxers and release his cock while he flings his shirt up and off his head.

Lt. Riley grabs onto your thighs and holds both of them gripped tight in his large hands, spreading them wide so that Mactavish can easily make his way in between them. The hair-speckled muscles of his abdomen shift along your bare spine as he leans you both back again so that the man before you has better access, both of you needing to be at the right angle to accomplish what is about to come.

"Think ye can take more, angel?" the Scot says with a mischievous grin plastered to his lips as his fist strokes along his cock to coat the shaft in the bit of precum that has dribbled out of the tip. 

There is warmth at the side of your head right at the edge of your ear, a shuddered breath that makes your pupils dilate and your own breathing gets caught in your throat. "Ya wanna have us both in ya, dontcha sweetheart?" the lieutenant growls, the heat from his breath brushing over your cheek as his fingers squeeze around the meat of your legs. "Fillin' ya full, givin' ya everythin' ya could ever want: both 'a us at the same time in this sweet, little pussy."

You pause as you try to think, but all you come up with is that you have never needed anything more than to have both of these men at once. Lt. Riley, however, takes your silence the only way he can, that you are having second thoughts.

“If ya don’t want it luv, jus’ say tha word,” he says. “It ain’t gonna hurt our feelin’s ta take turns. Do ya wanna stop?”

You can sense how close his lips are to your ear and it makes it hard to get the words out so you shake your head instead.

“Ya want us both?” he asks for clarification and you nod. 

He has to be absolutely sure. "Need ya ta say it, luv," he groans as he tenses his glutes, causing his cock to pulse inside you till it pushes you to moan out loud. "Look at your sergeant an say it."

You refocus your sight on the buff, naked man before you who is hungrily stroking himself to the sight gifted to him. The blue of his eyes shift in the dim light, a sparkle that you can't help but smile at as you swallow to find your voice. "I can take more," you say without breaking eye contact with the short-haired sergeant. "I want you inside me too, sir."

"Good girl, good fuckin' girl," the lieutenant praises in that gruff voice before placing another kiss to the side of your head. 

"Such a good little lass for us," Mactavish adds as he steps himself into the gap that’s been so generously created for him. His hands glide over your inner thighs, up and down the tender flesh a few times as if he's adoring it with his fingertips before he grabs back onto himself to align the tip of his cock at your opening just above the lieutenant's that is already stuffing you. 

Leaning his head forward, Lt. Riley's lips gently connect with your feverish shoulder at the nape of your neck and delicate bites are soon ascending up your throat. "Gonna need ya ta breathe, alright?" he says softly with his mouth still lingering just below your jaw. "Jus' breathe, sweetheart. We’ll make it fit."

Your eyes flutter closed as you succumb to the overwhelming ecstasy coursing through you at everything that is happening, but a firm hand under your chin brings you back into the room and your eyes back onto your second lover. 

"Eh, eyes on me, doll," the sergeant says as he holds your face up to gaze into his. "Wanna look inta those pretty things when I enter ye."

The lieutenant's lips rest against your throat as you feel that firm second tip begin to press harder at the top of your entrance, making you wrap your thighs around the sergeant’s hips. You breathe in through your nose deeply as he slowly sinks it in to rest just the head inside the threshold. The glazed over look in your eyes as you take him in is enough to almost send him reeling over the edge. His chest heaves with each breath as his head falls limp, muscles contracting as he pauses to give you all a moment to adjust.

Your whimpers mix with Mactavish's deep grunt and Lt. Riley's satisfied hum to fill the small room with the most unique music these four walls have ever heard. The pain of the intense stretch gradually eases after a moment and now that pleasure has taken its place you beg for the scot to keep going.

He smiles hungrily."Almost there, lass. Jus’ a bit more.”.

"Fuckin’ look at ya. You're doin' so well, sweetheart," Lt. Riley moans more of his praises as the sharp edge of his teeth drag across your neck, doing everything he can with what he has available to him to make sure your body stays in a state of pure bliss. 

Mactavish's fingers dig into your hips as he thrusts again, this time all the way till he reaches the base of his member and you buck backwards, but the lieutenant has you secure in his arms so that you don’t go anywhere. 

"Tha's it, pretty girl, tha’s it," he mutters sweetly as he lifts his head to find your cheek, nuzzling against it while placing sweet kisses along the surface. Your face is burning and he can feel it against his mouth.

"God, ye are a marvel," Mactavish adds with a hiss trailing the end of his sentence. "A fuckin' dream."

All the undivided attention, all the stimulation and heightened sensations of pain and pleasure has you in a daze of ecstasy so powerful that your head is spinning, drunk off all that intensity and they have to take control as you can only manage to take what they give. 

Rotating your shoulders and turning your head with a bit of effort you find the lieutenant's face and before he can even think you immediately move in for the kill, connecting your lips with force. His hands compress around your thighs the harder you go in so that he can meet you with the same intensity. Your mouths dance together for a few more minutes before you wrench your face away only to have your hands reach out to find their place at the back of the sergeant's neck to pull him into a kiss just as heated. 

No one gets left behind tonight. 

Lt. Riley takes the opportunity of your distraction and rolls his hips to start thrusting, wanting to take you by surprise and it does. The whine you release into Mactavish's mouth is his evidence that he's done just that.

"Fuck," the sergeant exclaims in a burst as he too feels the effects of the lieutenant's movements and instinctually bucks his hips into you, causing you to whine louder. 

Your head falls back against your superior's firm shoulder, your arms raising up to wrap around his neck to help you hold on as the two men begin to drive themselves deeper and deeper into your sopping wet pussy, stretching your tight hole to capacity. Your breasts bounce in rhythm, your body forced to move with the strength of their combined thrusts as eyes are locked onto the delicious sight of your body taking them. 

Lt. Riley’s hands are still preoccupied with your thighs, but one of Mactavish’s is free and he uses it to cup around the plump bit of tissue to massage the nipple between his thumb and forefinger for the second time; the man just can’t keep off them. “Ye don’t know how much I’ve wanted te get at these juicy things,” he groans at the feeling of your soft skin filling his palm. “That’s why I was always makin’ ye run laps just te see ‘em bounce.”

You knew that’s what it was, why he always seemed to single you out in training when you swore up and down that you didn’t do anything wrong. So this had been a long time coming, a desire that had been long held.

“Knew the moment ya stepped on base, ya were gonna be trouble for me,” the man behind you pants, wanting to add his own two cents. “Told myself not ta look, rules and all, but fuckin’ hell sweetheart, how could I not? Ya got in my head fuckin’ quick. An’ with that strong, bull-headed attitude to match; christ, you are a deadly thing, luv.”  

They find their rhythm in tandem, keeping pace with one another to get every benefit of slipping through all that slick, all parties working to that one collective end of everyone cumming like a three-headed monster of ecstasy. Thrust after thrust, bodies stimulated from adrenaline, you all are drawn even closer to that most satisfying end.

“You’re doin’ so fuckin’ good, sweet girl,” your lieutenant praises and the sound of his voice is almost enough to make you break. “You gonna cum for us, yeah? Need ya ta cum.”

You swallow, your mouth dry from hanging open as it’s too much to hold in all those delicious moans. “Close,” you mumble into the small space created by your bodies, but all this friction is working a little too well for your lovers.  

The sergeant is the first to break. “Shit, gonna fuckin’ come,” he groans as his abs strain, the pressure in the base of his stomach almost at its peak. Fuck, it’s just too satisfying to last any longer. 

The other isn’t too far off either. “Ya ready for it?” Lt. Riley says, his breathing shaky and uneven. 

You nod your head, a little disappointed that you aren’t fully there yet, but you know it can’t be helped. “Good girl,” he moans. 

The sergeant pulls out first and you take his cock into your hand, tightly holding onto the shaft to stroke it towards your breasts as the lieutenant stays in to keep going. Lt. Riley is so close he can feel that tightening in the pit of his stomach about to snap and with a few more ragged thrusts he too pulls out to be met immediately with your hand that keeps up the stimulation. Having both of their cocks in each one of your hands, you stroke them furiously.

Finally the moment of no return is reached and the Scottish sergeant is the first to go, the stringy spurts of milky white cum hitting your chest to gather between your breasts as he shudders in your hand. Through his grunts and moans of pleasure as you stroke his cock of everything, your lieutenant blows too and the warm fluid shoots up between your thighs to cover your lower abdomen. You don’t stop your work until your hands are forcibly removed and only then do you finally let them go.

But even though they are finished, they aren’t done with you yet- oh no, you are going to cum if it’s the last thing Lt. Riley does.

You are taken by surprise as there is suddenly a finger circling your clit and you moan into your throat. “Did ya think it was over? Can’t let ya not get yours, luv,” your superior whispers into your ear. “Want ya ta come for me, sweet. Come on my fingers.”

The two middle fingers on his hand are immediately shoved into your dripping hole and he curls them again and again over your G spot with a steady touch until he has your thighs quivering. Not one to be outdone by his superior, Sgt. Mactavish falls to his knees and leans in, his heated, panting mouth advancing to just above the lieutenant’s fingers so that his tongue can lap at your clit.

Lt. Riley can feel your swollen walls as they start to flutter around his digits, your hips bucking wildly over Mactavish’s face as you stroke your fingers through the hair of his mohawk. The lieutenant needs you to come, he needs to feel that you’ve gotten yours; you’re not leaving here unsatisfied as long as he’s around. A few more curls of his fingers and strokes of your clit and you go silent as that tightening in your belly is pulled completely taunt and all at once snaps. 

“Tha’s it,” your superior says amusedly as you let out a cry and your walls clamp down around his fingers, “good girl. Ride it all tha way out for me, luv. All tha way. Fuck…there ya go.”

You grind your hips into his hand and against the sergeant’s features until you can’t go anymore and settle back against Lt. Riley’s hot chest in contented exhaustion. The lieutenant’s fingers lay resting inside you as Sgt. Mactavish pulls back from your pussy, face dripping and accentuated with a smile before he wipes the contents away onto the back of his hand.

The sergeant looks so pleased with himself. “Been a while since a pretty thing’s ridden my face,” he says. “God, I missed tha’.” 

The lieutenant lets you ride each balmy wave of ecstasy that washes over you to its end before the fingers inside you are pulled out and he brings them to his mouth to lick them clean as Sgt. Mactavish tilts your chin up and leans in to leave you with a breathless kiss on your raw lips for a job well done. He is more gentle this time, more sweet, and you swear you can feel his mouth turn up into a smile against your own that you can’t help matching. 

The break in the kiss is slow and as he pulls away he strokes your cheek with the backs of his fingers. “Ye were brilliant lass,” he says, punctuating it with one last peck on your lips as he moves back. 

The lieutenant helps you off of his lap and sets you carefully down onto the bed beside him, making sure you’re steady before letting you go as the sergeant steps off somewhere into his room. You don’t pay much attention as your sight is focused on your superior, taking him in without the hindrance of his mask as he stares back at you.

“Ya really did so fuckin’ good, pretty girl,” he praises, admiring all that visible heat in your cheeks that he is partly responsible for. “But I knew ya would.”

He leans in to place a grateful kiss to your parched lips and you graciously accept it, letting your lips linger for as long as possible. Just as the kiss is broken, though, the squeak of metal is heard followed by the sound of rushing water and you both turn to the source to find Mactavish standing naked against the doorframe of his bathroom.

“Comin’?” the sergeant calls out.

Lt. Riley immediately goes to stand and offers you his hand. “C’mon, we need ta get ya cleaned up, sweetheart. We made a bit of a mess,” he says as he helps you onto your feet and guides you by a hand placed to the small of your back over to the shower and the warm water waiting to coat all of you. You stare up questioningly into his face as you go, but he just smirks as if he’s guessed what you are thinking. 

“Don’t ya worry, night’s still young and we ain’t gonna be done for a long while yet.”

[goose-on-the-loose]

The Darkest Hour - Styracosaurs in a Wildfire Paleoart Process Breakdown

It’s been a long time since I’ve shared my art on this account (at some point years ago I just forgot to), but I thought that this might be a great opportunity to start posting my art again! This is my first attempt at paleoart, and I think it’s worthy of sharing. It’s for my showcase at my art school, so there were time restraints that stopped me from adding elements that I would’ve liked, but ultimately I’m quite satisfied with it.

For any budding paleoartist (or anybody really) who’d like to see my process, I put it all below the read more! @a-dinosaur-a-day (hope you don’t mind me @/ing you, i originally meant for this post to be an ask but it got too long haha)

I started off knowing that I wanted to depict some kind of ornithischian for a number of reasons. Two of the biggest reasons were that 1) I simply like them more than theropods and sauropods and 2) My senior showcase is all about showing animals in ways that the viewer hasn’t seen them before, and most people don’t really think about ornithischians except for if they’re being preyed on by a theropod.

I then narrowed my choices further by looking at different formations and what species they have. I looked up what formations parasaurolophus was in (since it’s one of my fav dinosaurs and I was thinking of making it my subject) and I saw the dinosaur park formation. Looking at the different species found there and the type of environment they lived in, I knew this formation was going to be my choice. 

I couldn’t narrow it down to one species yet, so I decided to think of some scenarios ornithischians might find themselves in first. I thought, “Oooh, what about some dinosaurs escaping from a wildfire?”, since the storyline could easily be conveyed, the lighting would be interesting, and I could get creative with the composition (flames and burning debris can create arcs to guide the viewer’s eye).

I did some very quick simple thumbnails and sketches to get the feeling and flow of the lines. I saw some paleoart by Marzio Mereggia and I remembered one of his parasaurolophus pieces that I really liked. I also looked at the composition of the fire scene from Spirit: Stallion of the Cimarron for inspiration. (the tiger doodle had nothing to do with it, i just wanted to draw a tiger) The shapes and silhouettes of these species weren’t really clicking for me, so I looked back on the list and saw styracosaurus. I looked at some paleoart and realized that the silhouette and shapes of their frill and horns could really draw the viewer’s attention.

So, I drew the top thumbnails and showed them to my teacher. He liked all of them, but especially liked the middle one, so I drew a larger version of it, making sure to elevate the best parts and communicate the story. I like to use highlighters when thumb-nailing because it helps me break down the background, middleground, and foreground while also giving attention to the focal points. I was satisfied with this layout, so I drew an even larger version of it that would be the same size as the piece of wood I would be painting on.

I wanted to add more dimension so I changed the placement a bit. I don’t have much to say on this one, except for the final project has less background detail because each piece in our showcase has to be finished within a certain amount of time, this is also why the adult styracosaurus doesn’t have scale detail. I would’ve liked to add it, but I have to be realistic with my time.

I then drew the sketch on the piece of wood, and then my teacher cut the excess wood off.

Painted the background and also changed the shape of the face horn to be more accurate. I believe that styracosaurus’ horns changed with age and each individual’s grew in their own slightly different way. I do regret not pushing the dark ground colors further back.

Started trying to figure out the colors in class here.

Did this all the next day, took about 6-7 hours. 3 during class and the rest in my dorm. I changed/added to the rest of the face colors later, but the beak stays the same. I still really like the way I painted the beak.

This was after 3 more hours of class time. I changed the face horn color and made the frill horns match it. I also started focusing more on highlights and shadows. This is the last photo I took during the process.

With the final version, you can see that I warmed up the highlights to match the fire and I dulled them out too (adding yellow to purple desaturates it). I also went over the background again, making the colors more vivid and adding a glow to the fire. Ngl I do regret not adding that glow to the fire on the trees, but oh well. Live and learn ig.

[quibbs126]

So these are currently my two pieces of attempted Transformers art

First one was practice, 2nd was just something I wanted to draw. Debated putting them on different posts, but I thought might as well have them on the same

I’m starting with the Animated characters because it’s what I’m watching, and also I like the art style. Or I at least like how Optimus looks. I drew a Ratchet elsewhere on Friday but it’s on a physical sheet of paper so I can’t show it to you

It’s…coming along, I suppose? It’s not the best, but I suppose I should also admit to myself that I’ve literally never drawn a Transformer before. And for that, I suppose it isn’t the worst? Like it just looks kind of off

I am getting the hang of drawing Optimus though. I probably need to figure out how to draw the others though, and not just him

I think with the 2nd drawing in particular, I’m making the head too big. Old habits are hard to break, I suppose

But also another thing, I am struggling with the eye shadow things. It looks cool, and I’d like to keep doing it for that reason, but I struggle with making it look right. And by proxy, that goes for the eyes in general. How do people draw them?

Also how do you draw the bots in general? I have no clue how I’m supposed to pose them

But yeah, on to things I drew

The shocked Optimus in the 1st one has been in my head for a while now, I had to draw it. Context, crossovers between the canons have been stuck on my head a LOT. And I think I’ve already mentioned my whole idea of Animated Optimus being absolutely horrified hearing about the Transformers One Sentinel

Tragically, I couldn’t figure out how specifically to draw his expression. What you see there is the best I could do

Then we have the 2nd picture, which is just because I like the headless Sentinel episode, their dynamic there is amazing. Didn’t think I’d care for the second Headmaster episode, but it’s great for them

I’m still considering the whole Optimus/Sentinel situationship in current day, but I think I’d need to make it through Season 3 first before I can say for sure. But I still don’t yet see TFA megop (they basically haven’t interacted in Season 2 so far), so I’m still going with it

There’s probably more I meant to mention, but I’ve forgotten it in the moment. So take this

[tubesock86]

an ode to matching heart patches

[aimfall]

harrydora is on the mind always. they make me so sick and ill

alt colors under the cut!

a lot of time was spent fiddling with the colors, then I decided that giving you all of them would be much easier

[arolesbianism]

Some swap au Olivia and Jackie concepts for the main 3 universes 👍

[ebonytails]

While I know that I didn’t promise to make Disability Zebra right away, I still feel bad about not having been able to design it yet. But I do think about it everyday, and even if I’m not able to make it in time before Disability Pride Month ends, I’ll still make it and show my progress. It’s important to me to try and figure out this design than other pride flags at the moment, I’ve been feeling. So thank you for the ideas back when I asked them, and thank you for your patience :)

[g0dlyunsub]

it takes two.

spencer deals with a lot on the field, but nothing can prepare him for when he’s stuck inside a locker with you.

pairing :: spencer x fem bau!reader

warnings :: 18+ due to sexual themes but no smut, slight claustrophobia triggers

word count :: 2.2k

author’s note :: inspired by a scene from s9e23, i'm imagining spencer in a fitted collared shirt and tie, reader wears a skirt

accompanying song :: stuck between by dutch criminal record

“nothing’s showing up on vicap. i’ve cross-checked records against everything you’ve mentioned, sir, but there’s literally nothing. zilch,” you hear garcia let out an exasperated groan as she ferociously taps at her keyboard. 

you watch as hotch kneads the skin between his brows with growing impatience while morgan starts to pace around the room. you’re not doing any better yourself, your stressed-out fingers threatening to tug at the strands of hair neatly holding your ponytail together. 

it’s too frustrating. the leads are clearly there, but your team is lacking the final puzzle piece to complete the profile, to confirm that it’s someone in the department that’s deliberately injecting themselves into the investigation.

“your answer is probably written down on paper. ugh, i hate when bad guys try to act all smart,” garcia fumes, and sulks as she gives an apologetic wave from her side of the screen. hotch nods, relays a thank you, and cuts the call before rounding the whole team together.

“think about it, those two are the perfect scapegoats. all of these agents have everything to lose, so why not just blame them? they’ve been in and out of cells already, and it makes perfect sense to craft a narrative that’ll point fingers at them,” morgan starts, making small gestures as he speaks with his signature cadence, topped with a honeyed rasp.

“and they’ve got all the authority to influence the public’s opinion,” jj nods in agreement.

“we need to try to get those two to talk again, but we also have to take extra precautions. jj and prentiss, go interview them one more time to see if they’ll spill any names. morgan, i need you to work with garcia to look for other possible leads. reid and l/n, go to the records room to review the files of the agents working with us. dave and i will try to hold down the fort,” hotch instructs, nodding at each of you as he rolls out the orders. 

“and try not to draw suspicion. if all else fails, say that you need to run to the bathroom,” rossi adds with a wink. it always amazes you how calm the italian agent is during such high-pressure situations, a trait you’ve grown to immensely appreciate.

“shall we?” you say as you nudge spencer, and he hums back in response. you bid a wish of good luck to emily and jj and traverse the hallway to the records room with the doctor, your heels clacking beside the cushioned steps of his slightly worn converses. 

after looking left and right to make sure no one’s around, spencer opens the door. you silence the sounds of your heels as you follow inside, and let the bolt of the lock plunge into the frame by slowly closing the door. 

“alright, you take the left, i’ll take the right,” you whisper, and spencer gives you a thumbs up. 

the two of you work silently and as fast as possible, sifting through the piles of records that lie on the tables and beside the cabinets. you feel your heart jump into a cartwheel every time a sheet of paper slips out of the manila folders, the sounds of rustling and creasing setting you on edge. 

“i found mcgregor and drew, but i don’t think it’s either of them,” spencer declares with a voice that isn’t supposed to sound loud at all, but it feels hundreds of decibels higher than the bare whisper you spoke with earlier. 

“okay, i found weaver and lee, but they don’t fit the profile either. let’s continue looking for the other two,” you call back. 

spencer walks over to you and kneels beside your left to help you with your search. once you spread the folders on the floor, you spot one of the two remaining files, and spencer soon finds the other. you’re about to turn through the sheets in the folder when the doorknob starts to shake, startling the both of you.

“shit. spence,” you blurt as spencer takes his file in one hand and grabs yours with the other, and shoves them into an open drawer. after he slides the compartment back with his careful and nimble fingers, you grab his arm and squeeze into a spare locker. you barely manage to seal the opening shut in time.

you could say that it was quick thinking that saved your and spencer’s cover, since the door jiggles and thrusts open a mere second later.

you never would’ve imagined that the day would come when you would draw air directly from spencer’s breaths, let alone enclose yourself in the same room as him. 

and yet here you are, perched on top of spencer’s knee, the scratchy fabric of his trousers resting under the hollow space of your pencil skirt and between your legs. his other leg presses against your side of the wall with an uncomfortable bend, while his chin sits an atom’s width from your forehead.

it’s a nonnegotiable consequence that comes with his tall figure, the way his clothed knee has to rub against your inner thighs under the draped fabric.

one of your hands lies awkwardly on his chest while the other is on his thigh, right above the knee that’s using you for leverage. your attention immediately shifts to your left when you see the rays of the intruder’s flashlight scope through the room. 

you stop mid-exhale when the light pours through the gaps of the locker, casting shadows on spencer’s face and your body. he looks stressed, anxiously wetting his lips with closed eyes, face turned away from you.

and he looks overwhelmed. rapid bursts of inhales and exhales fire from his body, likely due to the collar of his shirt being bound tightly around his neck with the tie. with shaking fingers, you slowly reach for his tie, waiting for approval to loosen it. 

you feel his forehead bury into the cave of your shoulder, and he whispers his desperate ask into your ear: “please.”

despite the lack of light around you, you’re able to locate the small end of his satin tie, and you tug lightly. the knot unfurls as you pull, and spencer lets out a small sigh of relief before breathing a low thank you in your ear.

as this happens, you hear the intruder surf through the piles of papers, unlocking drawers and lifting boxes left and right. hurry, hurry, hurry, you pray desperately in your head. beads of sweat start to form at your temple and threaten to fall down to your exposed neck, which happens to be situated directly in spencer’s line of sight.

“come on,” you hear the guest in the room complain, angrily flipping through papers and slamming the cabinets. you think it’s finally time for him to leave when you hear the high-pitched ring of his phone. 

but your eyes widen when instead of heading to the door, he makes strides towards the locker right across from yours, and leans his back against it before holding the phone up to his ear. holy shit.

“jensen speaking,” he says with a gruff voice, and plays with the button of his flashlight so it turns on and off spontaneously. as the light flickers, it dimly shines the space inside your locker. 

spencer turns his head to meet your eyes, a panicked expression covering his face. you’re about to mouth a small sorry for the helpless situation you’ve dragged him into, but just as you’re about to do so, spencer’s trousers slide against your legs, creating friction so unbearable that you let out a squeak. 

you freeze, looking up to see spencer’s eyes flash warningly. he instantly clasps your mouth with his hands to cover any further sound from escaping your lips, but with no form of support to maintain his position, he starts to slip, and his shirt lightly skids against the locker’s slippery walls. this is somehow even worse for you, because spencer’s knee starts to dig further up your legs and into your cotton underwear, forcing you to squeeze your eyes shut.

luckily for the both of you, jensen seems to be distracted by whatever words are being spewed from the other end of his phone call to pay any mind to your suppressed yelps. 

“i think their agents might be on to us,” he scowls, and you watch from the corner of your eye as he tosses the last of his files into a box and opens the adjacent locker to ram it inside.  

“yeah, i’ll try to stall them for as long as i can. they don’t know what they’re getting themselves into.” 

jensen curses and promptly ends the call, returning his phone into the pocket of his shirt. he finally walks to the door, sighing as he twists the knob and steps out. the two of you lie in wait for an additional three minutes before trying anything. 

“i think we’re good,” spencer huffs, finally opening the locker door with a thud as the sounds of steel clashing against steel echo throughout the air. 

“yeah,” you nod, taking a breath to collect yourself as you step out. you watch as spencer runs a hand through his hair and moves his fingers down to adjust his tie. 

he returns the stare, his adam’s apple bobbing when he eyes your wrinkled shirt and scrunched up pencil skirt – which looks more like a mini-skirt with how it sits right below your hips.

“i um, i need some air. how about you?” spencer asks at last, clearing his throat. you bite your lip when he starts to brush the dust off his thighs and knees, the moments of earlier flooding into the back of your mind like the warmth pooling between your thighs.

“yeah, i could use some fresh air too,” you respond breathily, averting your eyes and focusing instead on smoothing out your shirt and retying your loosened ponytail. when you’re done, you turn around and stagger to the door, not looking twice to see if spencer’s following you. an intense flush spreads across your cheeks, and your only viable path of escape is to the bathroom.

“you, um, missed a spot,” you hear from behind, and you follow spencer’s gaze to see that he’s referring to the back of your skirt.

“oh,” you say as embarrassment swamps you, and you hurriedly pat at the fabric. “does that look better?”

“it’s still folded there. if you want, i can- may i?” 

the question tumbles from his pretty lips and messes with your head. his hand hovers right around your waist, the same way yours lingered on his tie as you waited for his consent. and his softening eyes. his slightly smoldering gaze looks so innocent and alluring at the same time, your heart starts to feel heavy with the weight of desire. 

note to self: never wear a pencil skirt again.

“please,” you utter like a silent prayer, and mentally prepare yourself to endure the test of his fingers against your skin.

as soon as he receives your word, his hand lightly brushes against your thigh and trails down your skin. he takes the hem of your skirt and pulls down, giving several tugs before releasing the stretched garment. 

he clears his throat when you don’t move even after he’s retracted his hand.

“all good now.” 

spencer’s words drown out your thoughts and snap you back to reality. he’s already standing by the door, holding it open for you with a patient smile.

“thanks,” you say as you walk out and rub your hands together, nervous for what you’re about to say next. “spencer, um, i’m so sorry about that whole ordeal, it was really unprofessional of me to drag you in there, i wasn’t thinking when i-”

“you did the right thing,” spencer interrupts your ramble with the shake of his head, and his flawless smile pulls at your heartstrings.

“i would’ve pushed you in there if you hadn't. that door’s the only way in and out if you don’t count the windows,” he continues, slipping his hands into his pockets as he walks you to the elevator.

“oh,” you shyly murmur back, your cheeks flushing with a shade of bright pink as his words pour over you like warm water. he would’ve pushed you in there if you hadn’t?

“yeah, but how about we try a bigger locker next time?” spencer almost reads your mind as he half-mindedly jokes, causing you to drop your jaw in shock. he doesn’t acknowledge your reaction, however, because he starts to dial rossi’s number on his cell.

“by the way, the uh, new look suits you. the grey skirt and all,” spencer says with a lopsided smile before he raises a hand to excuse himself and call rossi. you’re saved the embarrassment of responding when rossi accepts the call, but your palms are already profusely sweating at his compliment.

note to self: maybe wear the pencil skirt again.

[kissitbttr]

nobody understands how you did it.

how you managed to swept him off his feet, breaking the walls he had built pieces by pieces, how the fuck did you get him to be comfortable with you? to be open with you? and only with you.

‘never seen him this happy or loose in a long time, lass. what’s your trick, eh?’ the captain pulls a joke, making the rest of the team laugh. ‘i think I speak for everyone when i say, he never brings a girl out. let alone introducing her to us.’

that one is true. years of being friends with ghost, the captain nor his closest friend ‘soap’ has ever seen him out on a date. they encouraged him though, since there have been so many women tried their ways to get close with the big guy, yet none of them succeed.

the masked men would often just shrug them off and give one hard cold answer. they would back away immediately

“guess i just have my ways” is what you always say. even soap couldn’t register how it happened. he couldn’t figure it out himself, he knows the lad way longer than you do.

they don’t believe you. because there is no way in hell that all you did was to bat your lashes, show him your adorable giggle and he was in. there’s gotta be more to it.

so what is it about you that draws him close? what is it about you that makes ghost’s eyes light up each time you step into the room? what is it about you that makes ghost’s heart skip a beat every time he talks to you?

certainly not because how you’re so patient in getting to know with him, right? not because how you trace his scars ever so lightly and call them pretty every single time he’s doubtful about himself. not because how you console him with ‘I’ve got you, baby’ each night a nightmare comes back to haunt him while rubbing his back soothingly. not because how you shower him with soft, gentle kisses to remind him that your love for him is bigger than anyone could have offered. not because how you understand why he can’t say the three letter words to you, just yet. still, you stick around.

definitely not, right? there’s no way. he’s simon ghost riley. no one or nothing could ever be good enough to make this man come out of his shell. it’s impossible, right? you’ll need a miracle for that.

“love?” you hear a voice calls, along with the sound of keys being tossed into a ceramic bowl. heavy boots thumping against the marble floor,

you step out of the kitchen. long hair tied up into a messy updo, clear frame glasses perched on the bridge of your nose. dressed in one of his favorite sleeping gown as your eyes locked with his brown ones. the balaclava still attached to mask his handsome face.

scarred lips stretch into a smile the moment his beautiful fiancé emerges from the kitchen.

he drops his bag onto the floor, pulling the mask off of him slowly. revealing his disheveled blond hair as he takes slow steps towards you.

“hi, baby” your voice brings him home. no soul could ever take away from him. he longs for that angelic tone each time he gets deployed. three or six months without listening to you speak to him is just insanity.

he’d rather lose his hearing entirely than not having to hear you at all.

he’s quick to embrace you in his arms. your face hiding in the crook of his neck, inhaling that signature scent of his that you had missed, dearly.

“what are you making?” he mumbles into the crown of your hair, giving it a peck before pulling away slightly to take a good look at you. “it smells good”

“your favorite” you kiss his chin, causing his cheeks to redden at the affection. “i even bought those lumpias down the 112th street. i know how much you love them. pretzels bites from the deli for snacks aaand, black pepper beef with rice for your dinner. sounds good?”

simon leans against the doorway as he watches you plate everything. rambling about everything. his smile widens even more at your domestic antics. the way you talk with your hands as you mention another annoying co-worker that keeps bugging you and the way you roll your eyes when a splash of gravy spill from the plate.

truly is a sight.

“why are you looking at me like that?” your lips raise into a curious smile, finger moving a dark lock that sticks into your forehead,

he gives you a small shrug. gaze not leaving you neither does his smile.

“you’re just so beautiful”

something so simple yet it makes your stomach fills with butterflies.

you chew on your lower lip to prevent you from smiling too much, but a hint of blush is dusting your cheeks betrays you.

“come, papi… don’t want the food to get cold now, do we?” you change the subject while you nod your head towards the empty seat across. “eat with me”

the two of you sit there while making a small talk. stealing glances every second. feeding each other’s food. soft laughs fall upon both of your mouths when one make a terrible joke.

something you’d see when two people are in love. c

so yes, the answer to that question. it is possible. because you made it possible. you made it possible for him to love again. even if he had to start all over. you made it possible for him to be vulnerable. you gave him a purpose the moment he thought things were looking bad for him.

he found a solace within your existence.

only you made it possible to bring the simon in him.

vbecause you. are his home

[eupheme]

— into the fire

[series masterlist]

cooper howard / the ghoul x f!reader

rated e - 1.6k

Tags: dubcon, power dynamics, vault dweller!reader, bounty hunting, pwp, restraints, sex for favors, rough oral (m rec.), 2 seconds of boot riding, flashbacks, sorta implied mutual pining, threatening with a gun, light degredation, spitting

a/n: please mind the tags! 💕 I heard him say ‘sweetheart’ (derogatory) and I was a goner. (Cooper is referred to as The Ghoul because I felt like he sure as hell wouldn’t have given Reader his name yet.)

“Been a long time since I’ve had mouth as sweet as yours.”

His tone then grows sharp, as the metal digs into your skin, “Don’t make me regret it.”

(Or - when you’re captured for a bounty, you make a deal.)

Your knees sink dig into the ground, with the downward gesture of his finger.

Eyes tracking the hand that now wraps around his belt buckle, then up to the tongue that traps between parted teeth.

No more than a week ago, he had lasso’d a rope around your throat. Bringing you to the ground - his weight of his hips pinning you solidly against the earth.

“There’s a bounty out for a Vaultie like you.,” The Ghoul had growled, as you bucked uselessly against him. “You know that?”

The days since were spent leashed by his side - almost like a pet, with the way he kept a handle on the rope twined tightly around your wrists.

Making you walk ahead, a sharp tug that sent you stumbling if you wandered too far.

All the while, you still felt that gaze that slipped over you.

Dipping with the zipper that had dragged down, pinched between fumbling fingers. Just wanting to feel the breeze against your skin - luxury you never had in the Vault. It lingered where the sweat beaded, nestled down in the shadow between your breasts.

If he needed permission to want you, you’d give it to him.

“You can use me,” You had told him - desperate, one night. “Whatever you want. Please, I can’t go back.”

“You best think twice about what you’re offerin’, sweetheart.” The Ghoul has rasped. A tilt of his head, as his eyes dragged over you.

You let them, your own eyes wandering as well. Across gaunt eyes and roughened skin, trying to piece together the man beneath.

Picking up on tiny things in the days that followed. Clinking spurs, his accent - akin to old programs they used to show back at your Vault. Hints that he’s been around a long, long time.

The Ghoul was terrifying in a way that thrilled you. You’d never seen someone move like he did, drawing faster than you could blink. A nightmare shrouded in a tattered leather coat, moving like a ghost.

He could rip your throat out with his bare teeth.

But he hadn’t.

You hadn’t had much to bargain with but you begin think even if you had caps - you might have ended up right here anyways.

But he hadn’t made a move to touch you.

Not until today, when your packaged water had run dry.

Until he saw the way you eyed him, envious. Another ten miles of desert road ahead, the sun following you from above and your throat growing drier with each one.

“You want some?” He asked, letting you watch the bead of water that rolled down his chin. “Then I think you know what you need to do, sweetheart.”

He’s collecting on your offer, now.

Adjusting himself, under the shadow of a crumbling building. Your thighs parting as you find your balance, fists pressing into uneven ground. The rope tied around fixed firmly under the heel of his boot, leaving you unable to use them in a manner you’d like. 

The Ghoul’s hat shields his eyes, but he can’t hide the curve of his cock against his pants - the interested twitch, when he frees himself.

“Don’t get shy on me, now.” He clicks his tongue, fingers wrapped around the base, “This was your idea, after all.”

There’s a warmth pooling in your belly, as you shuffle closer. The part of your lips, the peek of your tongue against the tip.

It’s much like the rest of him. Pulled-tight pink skin, roughened and wrinkled divots. Velvety and warm, as you take him into your mouth and suck.

He swells, as your lips wrap around him. As he inches deeper, with the shallow bob of your head. Heavy against your tongue, it’s not long at all before he’s fully hard.

You try to take more, struggling with your limited balance, the full size of him. Teeth scraping against skin, when his hand twists in your hair.

There’s a ragged groan rattling in his throat - then there’s the cool press of a muzzle against your cheek, the low growling drawl of his voice.

“Been a long time since I’ve had mouth as sweet as yours.”

His tone then grows sharp, as the metal digs into your skin, “Don’t make me regret it.”

Your heartbeat thuds beneath your ribs. His message clear - fuck around, use your teeth on him, and you won’t live long enough to find out.

You don’t test him. His grip lingers, until you go loose. Eyes lifting to meet his, letting him guide you.

The tightness in him unknots as well, when you let him into your throat. A low grunt, risking a glance down to see how well you take him - an unconscious buck of his hips into your waiting mouth.

“Not even two weeks out and you’re already sucking cock,” He grits out, “So fucking eager to do it, too. You like ghouls sweetheart? Or just me?”

His voice rips into you, sending your nerves alight. He leaks against your tongue as you trace the rough skin, unable to help groaning.

“Fuck,” The Ghoul growls, “Just mine. Let me hear you say it.”

His grip loosens, pulling himself from you. Spit clinging from the head of his cock to your lips as you swallow. A hand pinching at your chin, forcing your face to stay tipped up to his as you answer.

“Just yours.”

“Good,” He thumbs at your chin until you open again, tongue waiting against your lip. Filling you slowly this time, until he’s nudging against the back of your throat. Tears prick at your eyes, as you try not to gag around him.

The slow saw of his hips picks up. It’s difficult without your hands - messy, with the way he uses you. Though there’s something about it that itches at you, deep inside.

Something that makes the tight Vault Suit feel even more constricting. More than aware of the dampness that pools between your thighs. How the sound of his groans, the tight tug of your hair in his fist makes you clench.

It’s has your thighs pressing together, as he fucks your mouth. A shift of your wrists so you can press the back of your hand against your center - easing some of the ache.

The pull of the rope beneath his boot has his eyes flicking further downwards. A cruel smile, when he sees.

“Getting off on this, sweetheart?”

You whine, and the smile widens.

“Filthy thing, aren’t you?” He drawls, with the shift of his thighs. The other boot knocks against your wrists to move them, before fitting it between your thighs. Nudging against your center, giving you something to grind against.

It’s not enough, but you both knew it wouldn’t be.

It would be too kind, otherwise. And he’s shown that he’s sure as hell not nice.

A tear tracks down your cheek with the steady roll of his hips, your nose brushing hot skin with each thrust.

Your eyes shut - mindless, a soft buzz in your throat as you moan around him. Focused on his breath, how it grows short and panting and ragged.

Until he’s pulling himself from you with a grunt, his fist wrapping around his length.

“Unzip, darlin’.” He growls, as he works himself, “As much as I’d love to fully use that pretty mouth of yours, I ain’t about to share my RadAway.”

It takes you a second to catch the zipper on your Vault Suit, dragging it down. From your sternum to your abdomen - revealing the worn, white cotton of your bra, the inches of smooth skin beneath.

A hand frees from his grip in your hair. Touching you again, yanking at your suit and bra until it bares the tight peaks of your nipples.

“Goddamn,” He growls, “Just look at you. Bet you’re nice and messy beneath that suit.”

Fingers cup the weight, before he’s pinching down. Eliciting a soft moan, as his eyes sweep across your face - soft and half-lidded as you watch him.

“Should’ve just fucked you. Would’ve taken me so well, wouldn’t you?”

“Yes,” You breathe - imagining it. Bent over one of the broken tables inside. His cock buried in your cunt instead of your mouth.

The moan he makes sounds feral - bitten back between clenched teeth. His other hand sliding to wrap around the back of your neck, holding you in place as his fist tightens.

“Look at me,” The Ghoul commands, and you do. Meeting his gaze with pupils that are blown wide, watching how pretty and ruined you look as he comes.

His groan is long and low as he spills across your cheek. The next against your lips, then chin. The jerk of his fist working himself empty across your breasts, until you’re marked thoroughly with him.

Smeared sticky against your skin, leaving you empty and aching as he admires his work. A whine when The Ghoul tucks himself away, his hat tipped down low again.

“Oh,” He mocks, “You think I forgot?”

For the briefest moment, you think he means to touch you. To ease your need - or offer something to clean yourself with - but instead he’s pulling the canteen from his bag.

“Open.” He commands, before he’s taking the last remaining pull.

The protest is caught, as his hand grips your cheeks. As your lips part, like he told you to.

His jaw rolls, pooling the water against his tongue. And with the dip of his head - he spits.

This time, you swallow.

Nothing more was said, after. A cut-up scrap of cloth from his pack, tossed at you. He still clings to your skin, beneath the suit.

But as you start traveling again - as a crop of building rise up along the horizon in the north, that you realize -

You’re pretty certain the path has changed.

ahh I just finished Fallout! What did you all think?? I loved it, and I can’t see what they do with Cooper’s arc in s2 (and of course everyone’s, I loved Lucy as well!) (And would love to know what you thought about this, as well! I have thoughts on a follow-up if there’s interest!) 💖

[art]

Meet the Artist: @erindrawsstuff

Hi, I’m Erin, and I draw stuff! I’m an illustrator and 2D animator based in Austin, Texas (yee-haw). I’ve been in and out of the animation/entertainment industry for about 3 years, working many different roles like character designer for Rooster Teeth, animator for The Daytripper (a Texas-based PBS special), and character and prop designer for Lowbrow Studios (Adam Ruins Everything, etc.). Most of my work is now in personal projects like my webcomic “SUBSIX” (I promise I’m coming back to it!) and working with friends and colleagues within indie spaces, all while working my day job and returning to school for a degree in 3D animation! Most of my inspiration can likely be traced back to my cringe anime roots and the more obscure 2D animated movies from Disney while looking to new inspirations like Into the Spider-verse and Delicious in Dungeon. I think my main goal has been to create compelling stories with enticing characters while trying to navigate the complexities of life and the people in it (both in the media I create and irl). In the meantime, I explore this through reading works like The Locked Tomb, listening to Philosophy Tube, playing disaster lesbians in our DnD campaign of nearly 4 years, playing video games that make me cry and question things, and challenging myself to grow and improve in all aspects. I hope someday I’m able to return to being a full-time artist, but for now, I’m rediscovering why I create and how to maintain a reasonable work/life balance. I’m truly grateful that people enjoy my work, regardless of how big or small my following is or becomes in the future. I hope one day I’m able to be an inspiration to someone as many have for me! Thank you for this opportunity to introduce myself!

Nice to meet you, Erin! Below are some pieces they have shared with you all.

Check out more of Erin's work over at their Tumblr, @erindrawsstuff!

[courviknight]

happy new years from the philippines YAHO

[mrderondncefloor]

“anything? that right?”

old!logan howlett x f!reader

summary: you end up in logan’s shop with an oil leak and can’t afford to pay him

wc: 2.3k (i’m in hell the brain rot is BAAAAD)

authors note: plot is very cliche like ik eat me. while writing this i took a break and got an edit of logan to tulsa jesus freak. yes i’ve lost my sanity. also i don’t know shit about shit with cars so yea

warnings/tags: MDNI. dubcon. unspecified age gap. logan is a little mean?? reader has no description besides hair long enough for logan to grab, wearing short skirt. logan grabs readers face. hair pulling. big dick logan (canon). pussy pronouns. spanking. throat fucking. degrading. tears. dirty talk. pet names. daddy kink. fingering. aggressive sex. unprotected sex (wrap it up). cream pie. orgasm denial.

your type doesn’t frequent this place, the auto shop on the edge of a town that’s seen better days. most of logan’s customers he’s had for years, he’d grown used to the faces that come through the shop, greeting people on a first name basis at this point in his career. like hell did he ever expect you. you, who stood behind him when he’s hunched down, working beneath the hood of a truck. he didn’t hear you coming, the radio on his workbench drowning out the sound of your footsteps. “shit,” he hissed, peeling back from the piece of shit he’d spent his afternoon working away at, white beater stained with oil and god knows what else. he paused abruptly when he finally noticed you, drawing in a slow breath. if he didn’t have enough on his plate, here you are. a pretty, young thing. in the thick of the summer you’re hardly dressed in much at all, a little top and a short skirt. “ain’t hear you come in,” the clear of his throat echoes off the walls as he walked towards his bench, wiping his hands with a greased up towel. “can i do for you?” his teeth clamp down on the toothpick stuck out his mouth, an oral fixation to try and keep his mind off smoking while on the job. it hardly worked for shit, nicotine always in the back of his mind. the radio gradually softens, pair of glasses pulled onto the bridge of his nose. “think i have an oil leak?” you sound unsure of it, logan nods, scribbling it down onto a forum he kept for his records. “bring ‘er in. take a look,” his boots thud quietly across the floor, walking past you to pull open the garage door. the wiring had gone out a couple months ago and he’s yet to get around to fixing it, muscles straining as he pulled the door up an over his head. he watched you pull your car in, sighing as you stepped back out. “well.. ain’t even have to look. engine sounds like shit, definitely a leak. i’ll pop underneath anyway, see f’somethin’s loose or if it’s a crack.” he nodded, wheeling his creeper out from beneath the bench with his foot. he tries not to groan as he sunk to the floor, his body too old for this shit. he pushes himself up underneath the car, brow knit in a tight furrow as he took a look around to access the problem. “oil pan has a crack, s’pretty fuckin’ bad. i can change it out for you, take me an hour.. hour an a half at most.” he nods, sat upright, an elbow propped against his bent knee. your expression flashes with annoyance and he thought to himself that you looked like a fucking brat, but god damn did you wear it so well. he fights back with the corner of his lips that threatens to tug up.

logan gathered up what he needed, not paying you any mind as you’re left with not much other choice but to sit and wait for him to finish on your car. dressed like this he figured you had better places to be, but he didn’t give a fuck. you came to him, and the way he saw it was your choices were limited to accepting the help and learning some patience or ruining your car. he’s good at the work he does, it’s why he has so many loyal customers, why he’s been in business so long. he could’ve given you some grief for the look you gave him when he told you about the wait- and he still might. “she’s good as new.” he nodded, sliding out from beneath the car with your cracked oil pan. his chest is slick with sweat, glistening under the dull lighting. he brushed his dirty hands against the thighs of his jeans as he stood, tossing your old cracked pan into the trash as he approached his work bench again, quickly jotting down the work that he’d done. “s’goin’ to be.. nine hundred fifty three. s’for the replacement, fresh oil and that god damn look you gave me earlier.” he nods, dropping the clipboard onto the desk. “take cash or card.” his arms cross over his broad torso, forehead creasing as his brow sunk in. “this is a joke, right?” you ask, scoffing out a laugh as you look up at him though his expression doesn’t let up, unamused. “do i look like m’makin’ a fuckin’ joke, sweetheart?” his jaw is clamped tight, his tone flat, serious. “you can’t charge me for a look?” “i can charge you whatever the hell i feel like. i had other shit goin’ on.. could’ve made you wait a hell of a lot longer.” you scoff out in disbelief at him, shaking your head. “i don’t have nine hundred dollars.” you finally admit and logan’s head dropped forward, a low chuckle coming from his lips. when you didn’t pull out a card he knew this shit was going happen. he saw right through you. “alright so.. let me get this straight, sweetheart. you came here for me to look at your car knowin’ you didn’t have the god damn money to pay for it? is that right?” he lacks sympathy for you, pretty as you were you had another thing coming if you thought you were going to pull a fast one on him. “i might be old, girl, but i ain’t no fuckin’ fool. i tell you what.. no money, no fuckin’ keys.” his voice is low, your keys dangled around his finger and he shoves them down into his pocket. he walks away from you, too god damn angry to be stood in front of you, having wasted enough time on you already. “please, you don’t understand.. i need my car. i can pay you what i have right now and bring you the rest next week, please.” you beg, coming up behind him where he’s hunched over again beneath the hood of someone else’s vehicle, the same one he’d been working on when you arrived. “ain’t my god damn problem.” he muttered, biceps flexing beneath his tanned skin as he tightened a bolt in place. “i’ll do anything.” you plea again and logan slowly stops what he’s doing, looking down at the truck battery he was working at. he sighed loudly, recomposing himself as he peeled back from the truck, walking towards the garage door. he reached up, muscles flexing across his back as he pulled the door shut, closing off the inside of his shop from the street view.

“anything? that right?” he’s standing before you now, looking down at your shorter frame. “anything.”* you repeat in a whisper. he drew in a slow, deep breath as your palm slid over the front of his dirty jeans, stepping closer into you until you’re tucked between him and the truck. he groans when your squeeze your palm around him through the denim, your lips curling up to a sinisterly sweet smile when you tug at his belt. he grabs your face hard, lips puffed out slightly when he pulled you in for a kiss. it’s sloppy, his tongue lapping across your lips before dipping into your mouth, an anger filled hunger. he’s pissed off, but you’re pretty enough that he’d be willing to accept your throat as some sort of payment. he looks down at you as you pull back from his kiss, sinking to your knees. he appreciates that you had no issue getting to the point. “i reckon you must’ve been thinkin’ about this the entire time, sweetheart.” logan mused as you grabbed his cock out from inside his jeans, moaning at the sight of him. “bet you ain’t ever seen a cock that big huh, girl?” the palm of his hand pets against the back of your head as you stroke him slowly, his shaft filling out your small palm. “hands behind your back.” he nods slowly, gathering your hair into his fist, holding the back of your head with a tight grasp. he taps the weight of his cock against your tongue before he lays his base flat against you, slowly pulling his hips back as your warm tongue licked over the veins that protrude from tightened foreskin. “nice an wide.” he mutters, feeding the head of his cock into your mouth, a grunt parting his lips when he brushed the back of your throat. god damn. “you’re goin’ to sit here and take it like a champ. reckon you ought’a think about havin’ my god damn money next time. stupid girl.” he warned you before his hips draw back and roll forward, pushing the length of his cock down the curve of your throat. it’s lewd, the repeated squelch of your throat as he pushes himself inside again and again. “should’a known you’d be this big of a slut when i saw you. cute little fuckin’ outfit, barely wearin’ anythin’ at all. just knew how to get an old man goin’.” he grunts, unbothered by the tears that have begun to roll over your cheeks. he’s selfish, using your throat to his advantage, balls slapping the underside of your chin. the cute outfit you’d turned up in ruined by your own slop of saliva as it dribbled out the corners of your mouth. “good fuckin’ girl. payin’ off every fuckin’ dollar.” his skin is slick with sweat, head lulling back against his shoulders, blinded by the dull white light above him. your throat is exactly what he needed at the end of a shitty week, and he had no shame in taking out his stress on you, sure you wouldn’t be forgetting him anytime soon.

when he finally lets up you choke out a cough, spit strung between his soaked cock and your mouth, breathing hard as you look up at him with watery eyes. still, you come chasing for more, hands sat on his denim clad thighs as you licked your tongue along his cock, gasping in a breath of air before you took him back into your throat, craving the feeling once more. “fuck’n hell.. look at you. must really need that god damn car, huh?” his fingers move into your hair again, yanking your mouth back off his cock so he could pull you up from the floor. “ain’t that right, princess? you’d do anythin’ for those keys back, huh?” “yes, daddy.” you choke out and what patience logan had left snaps, swiftly turning you around by the hold he has on your hair. he lifts the skirt up over the swell of your ass, palm of his hand roughly swatting against. you. once, twice, three times. your cheeks are stained red as your legs tremble, impatiently waiting for him to give you more. “let me see ‘er.” logan nods, bent over you and he pulled your panties to the side, spreading your cheeks so he had a perfect view of both holes, your pussy slick with your own arousal.

“you like gettin’ treated like a slut.” he acknowledged, spitting against his fingers before he brings them to your pussy, fingertips swirling your clit before he pressed two long fingers into your core, free hand wrapped around your throat. he stroked his fingers slowly at first but gained speed as your arousal coated him, making it easier for him to plunge his fingers into your tight hole, biceps flexing with each stroke of his fingers, feeling out the warmth of your walls, infatuated with the way your pussy sucks his fingers back in. he grins at the gasp you take in when he replaces his fingers with the head of his cock, pushing yourself up straighter as he sunk himself deep into your pussy. “daddy,” you softly grab at the hand he has around the middle of your throat, moaning as his chest presses up against your back. “you ever been stretched out this good before?” he asks beside your ear, breathing out a quiet laugh when you shake your head no. he grabs your face again, pulling your lips back to his when he fucks into you, hard strokes that press your hips against the grill of the truck, sure to leave you with bruises in days following. he swallows the moans you cry out, roughly driving his hips into yours. he’s unrelenting, giving himself to you hard the way you deserve it, the way you so evidently love it. it’s been a long god damn time since he had pussy this good, and fuck was he obsessed with yours, cursing himself for fixing the troubles your car had given you instead of giving you the run around to keep you coming back for more. hell, with the way you’re fucking yourself back onto his cock you just might anyway. “you’re going to make me cum, daddy,” you choke out, and he grabs at your hips, pulling him deeper into your sopping cunt. “that right? this ain’t even about you, princess. this was for me, remember? who says you’re allowed to cum?” he is brow furrows, getting a rise out of the way you while beneath him, small hands grabbing at the truck. “please, i know it’s not about me but please let me cum, daddy.” you whine, legs trembling beneath you, threatening to cave under your weight. he doesn’t respond, just fucking into your stretched core while you beg him to cum again and again. he ignored you until he spilled first, filling you with thick ropes of his cum, hips flush against yours so you take every drop deep inside. “you want to cum now, sweetheart?” he asked and you nod, rocking your hips back against him as your chase your own high.

needless to say, logan was more than willing to return your keys. and you.. well you might purposefully pop a tire soon.

[blaydie]

ᥫ᭡ LEARNING TO ACCEPT — “If I ever return home, I’d like you to accompany me. It wouldn’t be the same without you.” Dan Heng x GN reader.

Word count: 2.9k

Contains: Dan Heng x GN reader, Dan Heng IL, affection, kissing, making out, cuddling, NSFW content, love bites, scratches, brief (singular) mention of blood, handjob, brief oral, penetration, aftercare

How long has it been? Since completing his duties on the Luofu, Dan Heng has hardly left his room. It doesn’t go unnoticed by any passenger of the Express; even Pom-Pom has begun voicing their concern over the situation. He has always been distant, but not to this extent. Ignoring text messages, leaving knocks on his door unanswered—it’s as though he’s no longer here. 

To say it hasn’t been bothering you would be a lie. You don’t blame him for wanting to be alone. Anyone would feel the same way if they had to relive every torturous memory of a past they cannot control. You just miss him—you never thought it would be possible to grieve the presence of someone who is only a few steps away from you.

Walking out of the parlour cabin, you pass by the archives, noticing the gap from the slightly ajar door. As you were about to carry on, you bumped into someone, unsure of who else could be lurking outside of their room at this hour. It was dark, but regardless of light, you know whose hands are gripping both of your arms to stabilise you.

“Dan?” You kept your voice low, respecting his means of privacy. If he doesn’t want anyone to see him, it would be unfair to reveal he’s finally taken a step outside of his room.

“Hello.” His voice was soft, the grip on you loosening while you find your footing. 

Without thinking twice, you step towards him and wrap your arms around him, your head resting against his shoulder. As though relieved by your gesture, a huff of air exerts from his mouth as he holds you in an embrace. It’s been a while since he last saw you; he had come to forget how you felt in his grasp.

Just as you were about to talk again, he pressed his finger to your lips. You notice a light flick on down the hall, your bodies slowly backing up into the archives. When safety is ensured, Dan closes the door and brushes past you, clearing a space for you to sit down on his mattress.

The lights remained off, giving the impression to outsiders that no one was home. You take a seat, eyes glued to the messy pillows and blankets beside you. Dan stands at the databank, finalising some pieces while you get yourself comfortable. 

“Are you feeling any better?” You inquire, snuggling one of his pillows to your chest.

“Not really. I’ve been trying to take my mind off of things.”

“That’s okay, take your time. Everyone understands, but we all miss you.”

“I missed you too.” Dan smiles to himself, his steps drawing closer. “I left you a gift; it’s outside of your room door. I thought you’d be asleep by now.”

“I’ve had trouble sleeping recently. What is it?”

“It’s a teddy bear. I bought it for you when we were in Belebog. I couldn’t find the right time to give it to you—so much has happened since then.”

“Thank you. I’m guessing I’ll be kicked out soon; I’m running all my luck dry.”

“You can stay if you’d like to. Remember to keep quiet about it though, please.”

“I’m good with secrets.”

“I’ve been taking a break from work for a change. I watched all of that series you recommended to me. It was good.”

“Really? You liked it? I have so many more!—”

“Shh.” Dan laughs, keeping his volume down as he places his hand over your mouth. When you settle, he retracts his arm and wraps it around your shoulders. “I did. We can start a new series together if you’d like.”

“I’d like that very much. One that we only watch together.” You beam, poking around his face with your finger until you find his cheek, giving it a light pinch. “That means you have to see me every night. No watching it alone.”

“That would be nice. I’ve been meaning to catch up with you; I’m sorry for leaving your messages unopened. I do see them all. Your words are sweet.”

“Did you see the little kitty plush? It looks just like you!”

“I did. It’s too cute to be me.”

“I think you both look alike. I haven’t seen your face for so long; how do I even know this is Dan Heng? What if you’re a Dan Heng imposter?”

Leaning over you, he flicks on the lamp which produces low lumination, allowing you to gaze upon his facial features. He was in his nightwear, his lips pursed together.

“I know you’re still confused over what you saw on the Luofu. You can ask questions if you’d like.”

“I don’t want to pry. I am worried though.” Upon saying this, his features soften. “You’re not going to leave the Express, are you?”

“Not anytime soon. Don’t stress about that.” Dan reaches for his phone, opening up a streaming app. “I have my reasons to stay.”

“Good. It wouldn’t be the same without you.” You poke your head over, looking at the series he’s selecting to play. “You don’t have to hide your form when you’re with me. I didn’t find it weird; you looked beautiful.”

“Ah, it’s… It’s not like that. I prefer this one. That’s all.” His cheeks flush, eyes flickering up to you then back down to his phone. “There’s too much negativity tied to it. Plus, I don’t exactly blend in.”

“Can I see it again?” You brush your thumb over his hand, a small huff exiting his parted lips.

As your thumb continues to travel his skin, he locks his fingers with yours. Your eyes drift up, the change in his appearance evident. His hair flows behind his back, ears pointy. You instinctively reach to feel the horns crowning his head, but he stops you, holding your forearm in place.

“Let me do it for you.” He speaks in a hushed tone, guiding your fingers around the curve of each horn. The feeling is unlike anything you can think of. They’re much smoother than you imagined.

“Dan, they’re so pretty. Wow…” You’re in awe, captivated by the beauty of the man in front of you. Freeing yourself from his clutch, you tuck a long strand of hair behind his ear and run your finger over the cartilage.

“…” The faint blush on his cheeks darkened, spreading over the ears you have your hands all over. He clears his throat, doing his best to shake the feeling of the way you’re touching him. “Thank you.”

“I think you look amazing. This is who you are; you shouldn’t have to hide it because of a past that’s gotten stuck to you. You’re much better than he ever was.”

As you move back, you catch a glimpse of the wide-eyed expression he’s giving you, his eyes glowing and his mouth twisted into a wide grin. With his arms weaved around your waist, he tugs you closer, nuzzling his face into the crook of your neck.

“I want people to see me for who I am. I’ll never be him. I want all of my accomplishments to belong to me. Nothing of mine should be tainted with his name.”

“That’s how it should be.” You bury your hand in his hair, nails scratching his scalp.

“I truly did miss you,” Dan mumbles against your skin, planting a kiss on your collarbone. “You understand me better than anyone else does. I appreciate that.”

“I try my best. I want you to feel that you can come to me for anything. You don’t have to resolve everything alone.”

Planting more pecks along your flesh, he returns to your neck, his tongue trailing up a patch of skin. His fangs graze you, nipping you abruptly. It felt like a needle, causing you to gasp, gritting your teeth while he quickly pulled back.

“I’m so sorry.” He wipes his mouth, a small trickle of blood escaping the puncture. “My teeth are sharper like this. I forgot…”

He places a kiss on top of the small bite mark, lifting you so you straddle his lap. Both of your hands remain on his shoulders, your foreheads pressed against one another. Pulling down his bottom lip, you lean into a kiss. He holds you tightly, allowing you to take the lead. In all truth, he’s terrified of hurting you. It’ll take some adjusting to get used to interacting with others in this form, particularly in more intimate ways.

Your tongue brushes against his, winning the battle and continuing on. It’s clear he’s holding back, but you aren’t willing to push him. Taking things slow will help him; the last thing you want to do is make his discomfort in this form grow worse. You and Dan have established in the past that this relationship has far surpassed friendship, though there’s yet to be an official label. Whatever reason there may be for that is unclear, but you both know your hearts belong together. Neither one of you would look for this with another person.

Fabric rustles while your hips wind against him, too lost in the moment. His hands tremble as they dip under your clothes, index finger gliding around your waistband. You disconnect the kiss, chest heaving. He pulls his sweater from over his head, rolling to the side to trap you under him. One of his knees is lodged in between your legs, pinning you flat to the mattress.

You drag your hands down his torso, dancing over his pecs and down his abs. His breathing turns heavier, eyes half-lidded as he fumbles with undoing the buttons of your attire. Whether it be due to his recent heightened emotions, he almost seems desperate for your touch. Desperate to touch you.

By looking at him, a pang of guilt ripples through your heart. You can’t imagine being subjected to a life like his, having to deal with the sin of something you wish to not associate with. Dan doesn’t deserve to be treated or viewed the way he is. Sitting back up, you wrap your arms around his neck and drag him into another kiss, causing him to fall with you.

This time, you roll on top, holding both of his hands against the pillow. His lips pout, almost as though he were encouraging you to go further. Due to all of the touching, he became hard a while ago. He was waiting for you to be the one to initiate things.

“Sometimes I wonder if you’re the only blessing this life has to give me. I must’ve used up any remaining luck I had to cross paths with you.” He rests back against the headboard, breaking his hands free so he can hold you.

“There’s so much more out there for you. We’ll find them together. We have an entire galaxy to search.”

“And much more beyond that.” He adds, the warm smile reappearing on his face.

You nod, returning your focus to his body beneath you. Sliding down his pants, you see his hardness outlined in his boxers, a small damp spot where pre-cum leaked out. His arousal for you didn’t bring him shame; he was pleased to allow you to see him this way. Vulnerability is something you only share with those you trust most.

Sliding them off, you take his dick into your hand, giving it a stroke before rubbing your thumb over his tip. The sensation shoots tingles up his body, goosebumps appearing up his skin. You continue rhythmically stroking his length, focusing your lips on leaving a trail of marks across his collarbone. He leans forward, allowing you easy access to the back of his neck where his hair covers. Swooping it out of the way, you leave a distinct hickey in a place no one will see. The only two people aware of its presence are you and him. It wouldn’t be the first thing you have both kept secret from everyone else.

Since he was already sensitive, it didn’t take him long to build up a climax, edging closer to an orgasm while you continued your motions. He panted, mouth directly beside your ear as you continued to decorate his skin with kisses and elaborately placed bites. A droplet of cum drips down onto your finger and you stop, wrapping your lips around his tip to clean him up. He swallows the lump in his throat, stroking your cheek with the back of his hand while you sit back up.

After removing your underwear, Dan guides you into the correct position, his tip pressed against your hole. He tilts his head to the side, waiting for you to tell him when you’re ready. With a nod, you lower yourself onto him, feeling him thrust up to speed the process. It didn’t take him long to bottom out inside you; your body is already familiar with his shape, fully accustomed to his size.

You both fall into the natural rhythm, your hips grinding against him while he pushes himself in and out. While he never fails to make you feel good, you intend to dedicate this night to him. He deserves the relief more than you. The longer this played out, the harder it became for Dan to suppress his urges, his knuckles turning white from the force he’s gripping your hips. A bead of sweat rolls down the side of his face, raising your concern. 

“Are you all right?” You whisper, planting a kiss on his forehead.

“I’m—” He bites his lip, suppressing the groan that tried to escape. “—I’m fine. It feels nice.”

Gradually, he begins thrusting into you with more power, your body falling forward, unable to remain upright. He rubs your back, now carefully nibbling the exposed section of your shoulder. His teeth glide over you like a dagger, sending a shiver through your core. You reach the peak of your climax, back arched as he continues to fuck into you, relishing the way you react.

His breathing pattern resembles that of a predator in the wild, the deep grumbles and pants revealing how much of his energy he’s exerting to get you this way. Unable to hold on, you release your orgasm, repeating his name quietly as you ride out the waves of pleasure. His nails dig into you, his final few thrusts sloppy. He held you close to his chest as he came inside of you, refusing to break the connection just yet.

Both of you are gasping, exhausted from the intimacy. Taking advantage of his current position, he litters your arm with kisses, lifting you up to get a look at what he has managed to do to you. Your neck has bruised, alongside a few of the bites on your collarbones; a breathtaking sight to see. You’re marked up by him, completely spent. All his.

The silence between you remains until the sound of heavy breathing dies down. When composed, he slips out of you, watching as his cum spills out of your hole. Reaching for a packet of tissues, he cleans himself and then wipes you down, removing the sticky fluid from your body so you don’t become uncomfortable. You roll off of him, lying on your stomach while he stands. As he’s walking to grab you a more comfortable set of clothes to borrow, he catches a glimpse of his appearance from the reflection of a frame on the wall. He had completely forgotten he revealed his true form, not feeling the horrors associated with the person of his past.

Returning to your side, he helps you up and slips a sweatshirt over your head, readjusting your hair for you. Large scratch marks trail down the length of your back, something he’s too ashamed to tell you about at this given moment. You were a mess, but you’re still as flattering in his eyes as you are usually. 

“Go get your teddy. It’ll look strange in the morning when people pass by your door. I’m going to use the restroom.” 

“I’m tired.” You yawn, pressing your forehead to his chest while he slides back into his pants.

“I’ll grab it for you then. We can watch the first episode of that series while we try to get some sleep. It’s late.” He flashes his phone screen at you, the large numbers declaring 1:01AM.

Silently leaving the archives, Dan grabs the teddy he gifted you from the floor of the passenger cabin as he redirects himself to the restroom. While in there, he can’t help but stare at himself in the mirror, realising he has a smile on his face as opposed to the usual sombre expression when he sees himself this way. A snicker leaves his mouth as he notices in detail each tiny mark you left on him, rendering it equal to the damage he left on you.

Tossing the teddy at you, Dan climbs back under the blankets and rests his head against yours, clicking play on the first episode of a series he had been hoping to watch with you. Even though you were drowsy, you kept yourself awake with small talk, grateful he trusted you enough to allow you to enter his personal space during such a tough time. As the episode plays out, you can see Dan waiting for the correct opportunity to speak.

“If I ever return home, I’d like you to accompany me. It wouldn’t be the same without you.” His tone was matched by the tender smile on his face, squeezing you tighter in the cuddle.

“I’ll go wherever you go. We’ll stay by each other’s side for the rest of time.” You reply, closing your eyes with a passionate flare sparking flames in your heart. You can rest peacefully knowing that no matter how long it takes, you’ll ensure he can live freely in his own body, being able to experience all the joys life has to offer without feeling the need to hide. 

[the0doreslover]

Stuck forever by the... glue? | t.n x fem!reader

summary: you and theodore are quite literally “stuck together”

warnings: a few innuendos

a/n: so i’ve been MIA for a little while but i hope this 4k piece makes up for it 😬😬😬

‘just make it to friday’

‘just make it to friday’

‘just make it to friday’

These were the five simple words that played in your mind since the beginning of the week.

Maybe it was because your mother had been sending you a letter every day, reinforcing the importance of your success in any exam you are to partake in, or because your professors had seemed to be putting extra pressure on you at the moment, or maybe… just maybe it was because you were simply tired, that every day seemed to be getting harder.

Your friends weren’t much help, it wasn’t their fault, they just couldn’t understand the pressure you had been going through over the past few weeks. You had unintentionally pushed them away.

Friday morning at last.

You had a little while to kill before your first lesson of the day and had decided on sitting in the courtyard.

You were walking towards your usual seat behind the large oak tree when you noticed

a rather peculiar looking sketchbook in its place

You picked it up, and opened the first page, and there in the neatest writing was the words; Property Of Theodore Nott

Great.

You were just admiring the pattern on the front of the book when a hand on your wrist startled you.

Looking up, in all his glory was Theodore Nott.

You didn’t have a chance to fully clock him, when he snatched the book from your hands.

“Did you open the book?” he asked, seeming to be catching his breath

“What?”

“i said did you open the book?” he urged, louder this time.

“No… Nott i didn’t” you answered

“right… well your blouse is undone” he nodded towards your chest.

You gasped slightly pulling your fingers towards the buttons, you felt around for a second until he started laughing “i lied”

“why do you have to be such a dick” you groaned noticing he tried to change the subject away from his sketchbook

“i guess i was born that way” he shrugged, with a slight grin on his face “why do you have to be such a prat?”

“i guess i was born that way” you huffed before walking away from him

Seeing as you had only a few minutes before your lesson, you had decided on going a bit earlier.

Professor Flitwick's classroom was already half-full, the usual chatter filling the air as students settled into their seats.

After what felt like an eternity, Flitwick clapped his hands together, drawing everyone's attention. "Alright, today we're going to practice some partner work. Pair up and choose the most interesting charm you can think of, the winning pair will be free from the assignment i am giving out later”

You groaned inwardly. Partner work meant having to socialize, something you didn't feel up to after the morning's events. You stayed seated, hoping someone would approach you. Instead, you felt a presence next to your desk. Looking up, you saw Theodore standing there,

"I’ll partner with you” he said taking the seat next to you

You blinked in surprise. Maybe he was trying to sabotage you in revenge of the morning…. but seeing some of the other options for partners, he didn’t seem so bad

"fine"

The two of you moved to an empty corner of the classroom, while you grabbed a study guide to charms.

“We’re not using that” theodore laughed

“well unless you’re secretly a charms dictionary i’m not sure what you think we should use”

He reached into his bag and pulled out a thick grey book, labelled “A masters guide to charms”

“Sorry Nott i didn’t know you were a master” you mocked him bowing your head down

“yeah yeah funny” he rolled his eyes opening the first page to its contents

“how about this one?” you asked pointing to a picture of a beautiful ocean

“no way i don’t really want to drown today”

you glared at his reply

“let’s do this” he hummed

“no way, i’m not turning everything edible”

“boring” he sighed

“lets do this” “we’ll do this”

you both said at the same time pointing to a photo of a man appearing to be stuck to a tree.

After agreeing on the spell and practising it without wands for a little while, You decided you should try it out.

“i have a pencil and a sharpener. Try on them” you said pulling both out your pocket and placing them infront of him

Stepping back you watched theodore perform the spell.

one

two

three

“nothing happened?” you sighed

“i think i can see that myself” he grabbed the pencil and placed it closer to the sharpener

“let’s do it at the same time. That way it might be stronger” you suggested and picked your wand up.

“one” you looked at him to ensure he was doing it correctly

“two” he watched your hands to ensure you had placed your wand at the right point”

“Three!” Just as you both cast your charm, a sudden jolt sent your wands askew. You glanced up in surprise to see Fred and George Weasley barreling past.

"Watch it!" Theodore snapped, but it was too late.

The spell went haywire. You felt a strange pull on your hand and looked down to see your fingers stuck to Theodore's. His eyes widened as he tried to pull away, but your hands were firmly glued together.

"Fred! George!" you called after the twins, who had stopped and were now doubled over with laughter. "What did you do?"

"Nothing, love, it seems we just gave your charm a little nudge," Fred grinned, winking at you.

"we are very familiar with this charm" George added, chuckling.

"So you can fix this?" Theodore demanded, his usual cool demeanor slipping into frustration.

"Afraid not, mate. You'll have to wait it out," Fred said, still laughing. "The charm wears off in a 24 hours."

“Even if we performed it at the same time?” you asked

This seemed to make the twins laugh even harder

“let’s say an estimate of 48 hours then”

As the twins walked away, still laughing, you turned to Theodore. "This is your fault," you accused, trying to free your hand but only managing to make the bond tighter.

"My fault? You're the one who suggested we practice that spell," he shot back, though there was a hint of a smile playing on his lips.

“You said it too!” you argued

“Okay stop pulling! it’s my hand too!” he said

"Well, now what?" you sighed, looking at your joined hands.

“we need to find Hermione"

Theodore sighed "why?"

“because she is literally smarter than you”

Navigating the crowded corridors of Hogwarts with your hand stuck to Theodore's was an exercise in patience.

Students cast curious glances your way, and whispers followed you down the halls. You kept your head down, focusing on getting to the Gryffindor common room as quickly as possible.

As you entered the common room, heads turned, and the chatter died down. Harry, Ron, and Hermione were sitting by the fireplace, deep in conversation. They looked up simultaneously, eyes widening at the sight of you and Theodore hand-in-hand.

"What in Merlin's name?" Ron blurted out, almost dropping the chess piece he was holding.

Hermione stood up, her brows knitting in confusion. "What’s happening?"

You cleared your throat. "We had a bit of a mishap in Charms. Fred and George decided to 'assist' our spell, and now we're stuck like this."

Harry snorted, trying to hide his laughter. "Of course it was Fred and George."

You felt your cheeks flush with embarrassment as Hermione approached, examining your joined hands. "Hmm, let me see," she muttered, pulling out her wand and waving it gently over your hands. "It's a strong charm. They must have amplified it somehow."

"Can you fix it?" you asked, desperation creeping into your voice.

Hermione bit her lip. "It might take a bit of time. This isn't a simple charm to reverse, especially if they boosted its strength. Let's sit down, and I'll see what I can do."

You and Theodore awkwardly made your way to a nearby table, still joined at the hand. Hermione began leafing through her Charms textbook, occasionally glancing up at your hands.

"Are you sure it wasn't intentional?" Harry teased, a mischievous glint in his eye.

"Shut up, Potter," Theodore shot back, but there was no real malice in his voice.

You rolled your eyes, trying to ignore the heat rising in your face. "Can you please just help us, Hermione?"

"Alright, alright," she said, waving her hand to shush the boys. "I think I found something. It says here that a reversal spell should work, but it needs to be performed perfectly, or it could make things worse."

"Perfectly?" you echoed, feeling a pang of anxiety. "And if it goes wrong?"

"Well, we might end up with more than just your hands stuck together," Hermione admitted. "But don't worry, I've got this."

“Okay i’m ready… let’s do it” you breathed in

“Wait… i can’t do it now, i need some time to practise it. As i said, it could go very wrong of not performed perfectly”

you groaned and fell backwards onto the sofa.

Theodore glanced at the clock on the wall, then at you, his expression shifting to one of mild panic. "I have to cut our despair short. I have Quidditch practice now."

You blinked at him, still processing the absurdity of the situation. "Okay, go then."

He raised your joined hands, giving you a pointed look.

Harry, Ron, and Hermione burst into laughter. Ron clutched his side, gasping for breath. "Good luck at practice, mate!"

Harry smirked. "Maybe you can use the bonding time to strategize."

Theodore rolled his eyes, clearly annoyed. "Yeah it’s all fun and jokes now potter, but we have a match against you tomorrow."

Hermione cleared her throat, trying to stifle her giggles. "Alright, you two. I’ll need some time to figure this out. Why don’t you… well, make the best of it?"

You groaned again, feeling the weight of the situation. "Great. Just fantastic."

Theodore tugged gently at your joined hands, pulling you toward the door. "Come on, i don’t have all day."

As you approached the Slytherin locker room, you felt a sinking feeling in your stomach. Theodore seemed to sense your apprehension.

"I need to get changed," he said leading you into the locker room. The room was empty, the rest of the team already on the pitch.

You looked around, feeling incredibly awkward. "Um, how are we going to do this?"

Theodore glanced at his Quidditch uniform hanging on a nearby hook, then back at you. "We'll have to cut the sleeve of my uniform."

You stared at him, unsure if he was serious. "Cut the sleeve? Are you sure?"

He nodded, his expression resigned. "It's the only way. Unless you have a better idea?"

You shook your head, feeling a bit guilty. "No, I guess not. Do you have scissors?"

Theodore rummaged through his locker, producing a pair of small, sharp scissors. He handed them to you, and you took a deep breath, trying to steady your hands.

"Alright, hold still," you instructed, carefully cutting through the fabric of his shirt sleeve. The sound of the scissors slicing through the material was oddly loud in the quiet locker room.

Theodore watched you, his expression unreadable, but you could feel his gaze burning into you. His breath hitched slightly as you drew closer to his skin, "You're surprisingly good at this," he said

You glanced up at him, surprised. "Really? I feel like I'm ruining your shirt."

He shrugged, "It's just a shirt. Besides, you can sew it back together later, right?"

You smiled, feeling a bit more at ease. "Yeah, I can do that. Don't worry, I'll fix it."

With the sleeve cut, Theodore carefully slid his arm out of the shirt, keeping your joined hands steady. He then reached for his Quidditch uniform

"Now for the hard part," he said, looking at the uniform's sleeve.

You repeated the process, cutting the sleeve of the uniform with as much precision as you could muster. The fabric was tougher, but you managed to make a clean cut. Theodore slipped into the uniform, and you couldn't help but admire how the green and silver suited him. His muscles flexed under the tight fabric, and for a moment, you found it hard to look away.

He smirked teasingly "stop checking me out."

You rolled your eyes, your face flushing. "you’re insufferable… i’m trying to make sure the sleeve fits right," you retorted.

The reality of your situation hit you again as you exited the locker room, your hands still firmly stuck together. Navigating the hallways and the field together was awkward, to say the least.

As you approached the Quidditch pitch, the rest of the Slytherin team was already in mid-practice, flying through the air, tossing Quaffles, and practicing their Beater drills.

The sight of you and Theodore hand-in-hand drew immediate attention.

Draco was the first to approach, a sly grin on his face. "whats happening here?" he laughed, "Nott, I didn't know you needed a babysitter for practice."

Theodore shot his friend a warning look. "Shut up, Draco."

Draco chuckled, his eyes gleaming with amusement. “i thought you guys hated each other? when did you make it official?” he laughed louder this time

"You are the only one laughing" theodore said chuckling at him

“i feel sorry for you” draco said towards you “anyway, let’s continue with practise”

You did your best to stay out of the way,

draco had allowed you and theo to simply sit in the stands while someone threw a bludger at him to try and hit.

he clearly didn’t try hard enough as you got hit in your head twice.

A few of the players couldn't resist taking jabs at you and Theodore as they ran past.

"Hey, Nott, maybe she can be our good luck charm!" one of them called out, laughing.

"Or a distraction for the other team!" another added, snickering.

You clenched your jaw, trying to ignore the comments.

“they’re all stupid” theodore would say

Finally, one player took it too far.

"Hey, Nott, why don't you just sleep with her already? Maybe that'll break the spell!"

Theodore stopped dead in his tracks, his face flushing with anger. "That's enough!"

a few members of the team fell silent, taken aback by his outburst. The player who made the remark, Marcus Flint, sneered. "What's the matter, Nott? Can't take a joke?"

Theodore scoffed. "Shut up you tosser, yes, she is a girl, but she didn’t ask to be surrounded by you idiots, so the least you can do is respect her"

You could feel the tension radiating off him, and it was clear that his patience had reached its limit. Flint opened his mouth to retort, but before he could say anything, you stepped forward.

"It’s okay," you said, "We didn't ask for this to happen, but we're dealing with it. So if you're done acting like children, maybe you can focus on your practise."

"Alright, enough," Draco said, his tone firm. "let’s end here today yeah, let’s just hope today was enough to get us our win tomorrow”

As the Quidditch practice ended, the players dispersed, heading towards the locker room.

"I can't go in there," you said, tugging on Theodore's hand to stop him from entering. "I don't want to see anyone...you know, changing."

Theodore paused "Fine, we'll wait out here until they're done."

You both sat on the bench outside the locker room, Silence hung heavily between you, neither of you wanting to break it. Finally, Theodore spoke.

“you should of punched flint, no one would’ve of said anything”

“well, i’m not one to start fights, that would make me reckless” you sighed

Theodore’s smirk widened. “well you did suggest we do this spell” he lifted up your hands ��together, that’s pretty reckless.”

“Oh, please,” you retorted, turning to face him. “Like you didn’t push for it too. That ‘I’m a master of charms’ act? Such a joke.”

Theodore’s eyes narrowed, and he leaned in slightly. “well you’re always whining about how hard life is. If you’re so tired, maybe you should’ve stayed in bed instead of trying to impress everyone.”

“Impress everyone?” you shot back, your faces inches apart. “Nice try, but your house is all about being superior, right?”

“Well, if we’re talking about superiority,” Theodore said, his breath warm against your face, “maybe you should look at your own house, the loudest bunch of show-offs.”

“Loud?” you challenged, your fingers brushing against his arm. “At least we’re not sneaky and backstabbing. I’d rather be loud than be a two-faced snake.”

Theodore’s eyes flashed. “Better sneaky than a blabbering idiot. At least I don’t go around pretending to be perfect.”

“Perfect?” you scoffed, leaning in so close that your lips nearly brushed his. “You think you’re so high and mighty. Well, you’re not.”

“Yeah?” Theodore’s voice dropped to a low murmur as he leaned even closer. “Maybe I’m just tired of you acting like you’ve got it all together.”

“You mean like you’re tired of being a pompous jerk?” you spat, “I’m tired of your attitude.”

Your faces were so close now. Just as it seemed like something might actually happen, Theodore suddenly pulled back.

“Honestly, can’t we just have one conversation without it turning into a drama?” Theodore said, crossing his arms and turning slightly away from you.

“Oh, so now you’re the expert on handling disagreements?” you retorted,

“Well, you’re not exactly making it easy to like you,” Theodore snapped, turning towards you for the tenth time. “You’re impossible.”

“And you’re a complete—” you began, but your words were cut off as Theodore’s lips almost touched yours again.

you both sat back

“Let’s just get this charm sorted and go our separate ways.”

You nodded, your jaw clenched.

“your blouse is open” he said staring at the pitch

“yeah nice try”

“i’m not joking” he urged

you discreetly looked down to see that your two buttons were, in fact undone.

you slowly dragged your hand towards your top, pulling theodore’s hand with it.

Your fingers failed to do the button with his hand in the way.

“Nott, please flatten your hand” you said lowly

he cleared his throat “if i flatten it… it would be on your chest”

you breathed out and closed your eyes slowly, before flattening his hand yourself.

Theodore shifted, his hand still pressed awkwardly against your chest. His eyes met yours, and for a brief, unsettling moment, the anger seemed to dissolve into something else.

“You’re such a...” Theodore started

“Don’t start,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper.

“You make me feel... things I don’t want to deal with.”

After visiting Hermione, who delivered the disappointing news that you and Theodore might be stuck like this for another day, the reality of the situation set in. The idea of spending an entire night with your hands stuck to Theodore's was less than appealing.

After agreeing on it, you both reluctantly made your way to the Astronomy tower. The tension was high, and you could feel every small touch between you—whether it was Theodore adjusting his position or the slight bump of your hands against each other.

“I guess we should figure out where we’re going to sleep,” Theodore said

“Right,” you replied, trying to sound collected despite the discomfort. “Do you have any suggestions?”

Theodore shrugged, glancing around the tower as if searching for an escape route. “We could just sit here until morning?”

You sighed, feeling the exhaustion of the day catch up with you. “Fine. Just... let’s try to make this as bearable as possible.”

You both found a quiet corner of the tower and made yourselves as comfortable as you could, given the circumstances.

“So,” Theodore began after a moment of silence, “since we’re stuck together, we might as well talk.”

“Talk?” you asked, raising an eyebrow. “What could we possibly have to talk about?”

“Plenty,” Theodore said with a shrug. “We’ve been arguing nonstop. Maybe it’s time we actually had a proper conversation.”

You considered this for a moment. “Alright, fine. What do you want to talk about?”

“Let’s start with why you always act like the world is out to get you,” Theodore said, leaning back against the wall.

You stared at him, taken aback by the question. “What makes you think I act that way?”

“You always seem so stressed and ready to snap,” Theodore explained. “It’s like you’ve got this cloud hanging over you.”

“maybe i do”

A brief silence followed, during which you both seemed to be lost in thought.

“So,” Theodore said, breaking the silence, “what annoys you the most about me”

You laughed slightly. “Your carelessness.”

Theodore chuckled softly. “i care about a lot of things actually”

“yeah? like what”

he stared at you in a comfortable silence, leaving that question unanswered

You smiled faintly

As the evening wore on, you both found it increasingly difficult to ignore the closeness of your situation. The moonlight made even the smallest touches feel more significant.

Eventually, you both fell asleep, leaning against each other for support.

You rubbed your eyes, trying to shake off the remnants of sleep. “Oh, this is just perfect,” you groaned, pushing yourself up and realizing just how tangled up you were. “We need to get to our dormitories and change. It’s almost time for the Quidditch match.”

You glanced around the tower, feeling the urgency of the situation. Theodore sat up, still a bit dazed, and ran a hand through his messy hair. “Then we need to find hermione”

You both maneuvered to stand up, your hands still firmly attached. It was a delicate balance, trying not to trip over each other as you made your way out of the Astronomy Tower.

The corridors of Hogwarts were quieter at this hour, but you still drew curious glances from early-rising students who whispered and pointed as you and Theodore hurried by.

Once you got to your dorm you instructed theo to turn around while you changed.

after you had gotten ready you both sprinted to the locker room and sighed in relief at hermione waiting there you.

You both lifted your hands infront of her ready to be freed

“i can’t perform the spell”

“what?”

“it’s too dangerous, i even consulted with mcgonagall, she said that we will just have to wait it out”

You sighed, feeling frustration “It’s okay, Hermione. Thank you for trying.”

Hermione gave you both a sympathetic smile. “I’ll head to the stands and watch the match. Good luck”

As Hermione walked away, you turned to Theodore, “I’m really sorry about this, Theo. I know how much this match means to you.”

He looked at you, his eyes softening. “It’s okay. We’ll have to try and manage.”

The tension between you seemed to dissolve slightly as you both stood there

The Quidditch match was about to start, and with the stands starting to fill up, you found yourselves standing closer than you had all day. The space between you seemed to shrink and In a moment of impulsive decision, Theodore leaned in, and before either of you could second-guess, your lips met his.

When the kiss ended, you pulled back slightly, feeling a rush of warmth spread through you. You noticed, with a jolt, that Theodore’s hands were now resting comfortably on your waist. The realization hit you, and you looked at him in surprise. “Theo… your hands are on my waist.”

Theodore blinked, confusion crossing his face, before it dawned on him. “Wait—” he started, looking at your hands which were now free.

You both stared at each other, “I guess we really did have to kiss to break the spell,” you joked with a light laugh.

Theodore chuckled and a genuine smile lit up his face. “I suppose so.”

“Well,” Theodore said, “I’d better get changed before the match starts. I’m sure the team’s been waiting for me.”

“yeah” you said, smiling slightly. “good luck.”

he quickly leaned forward to kiss you one last time before fake saluting you with a smile on his face and turning towards the locker room.

“wait theodore”

he turned around

“your buttons undone” you pointed to his trousers

[prettyfilmz]

QUALITY TIME • ROMAN REIGNS

author’s note: we're here with the third installment of the love language series with none other than our OTC roman reigns!! this piece definitely takes a more sensual turn than my previous two but it fits tbh I think y'all will love it. we have two more parts left of this series, up next is something special!!😝

plot: after a long awaited return from being on the road, you and roman spend some much needed quality time together after putting the kids to bed.

warnings: 18+ (MDNI), porn w/smidge of plot, reader is black, soft dom! roman reigns x sub! fem reader, daddy kink, dirty talk, praise, oral (both receiving), riding, slight hair pulling, creampie, small aftercare at the end.

word count: 1.2k words

the soft glow of the bedroom lamp cast a soothing warmth in the master bedroom, where you lay, your dark eyes gleaming with anticipation. you were anxiously awaiting for some alone time with your husband, whose 3 month absence had left a void in your large home. now, with your twin daughters tucked in, you finally had him to yourself after a day full of family activities. roman had read them eight bedtime stories, each at their pleading request, before slipping away and entering your shared room, his powerful presence claiming the room like he was still in character.

with a tired yet irresistible smile, roman closed the door behind him, his gaze lingering on you as he joined you in bed. “finally, I get my time with you,” he murmured, his deep, velvet voice laced with tenderness. “I’ve missed you.”

you could feel your pulse quicken as he pulled you into his arms, encasing you in his body warmth and the scent of santal and cardamom from his cologne.“I’ve missed you too, ro,” you whispered sincerely. “It’s been too quiet without you, aside from the girls.”

as roman leaned in, his lips met yours in a hungry kiss which sent shivers down your spine. your bodies gravitated toward each other like magnets, the dry spell from his absence finally coming to an end. his large hands gently cradled your face as he lowered you onto the pillows, his weight held you still as he hovered over you, kissing a path down your sensitive neck, savoring every inch of your soft sepia skin.

“you’re so damn beautiful, mama,” he whispered huskily, his lips brushing against your collarbone, inhaling the vanilla perfume you wore just for him. “I couldn’t stop thinking about you while I was gone... I would've came home sooner just to do this.”

a soft moan escaped your glossed lips, fingers threading through his long hair as you surrendered to his touch. “well…you’re here now,” you breathed, your voice shaky. “It’s just you and me, baby. let’s make up for lost time, hm?”

roman’s dark eyes glinted with lust as he ventured lower, his kisses trailing down to your generous curves. with delicate care, he pulled down the straps of your silk nightgown, exposing your breasts. he didn’t waste any time, his mouth closing around your taut brown nipple, his tongue swirling with small flicks.

“oh, fuck,” you gasped, arching into his touch as pleasure coursed through you. his hands molded to your breasts, teasing them while his mouth gave attention on your hardened peaks, pulling moans from deep within you.

“mhm, get comfortable, baby,” he purred as he descended further, his hands guiding your deliciously thick thighs apart. “I ain’t close to being done with you.”

your breath hitched as his warm breath ghosted over your glistening core. he didn’t tease for long like he usually did, his tongue skillfully flicking over your swollen clit, swirling and tasting you as if he were starved. his fingers joined the rhythm, sliding inside your tightness, drawing out sweet, breathy moans as he played your body like a fine instrument.

“right there,” you cried out, your fingers gripping his long hair as waves of pleasure crashed over you. “I’m gonna… cum.”

he chuckled darkly, the vibrations sending you even closer to the edge. “cum for me, baby. make a mess on daddy’s face.”

that was all you needed to hear. your body trembled violently as your orgasm ripped through you, your thighs clenching around his head, your cries echoing in the room. roman didn’t stop until you were quivering, your body spent, his tongue lapping up every drop of your sweet release.

when he finally pulled away, he climbed up your body, his lips brushing against yours, allowing you to taste yourself on his tongue. “almost forgot how sweet you taste,” he whispered, humming with satisfaction.

you smiled devilishly, fingers tracing the intricate tribal ink on his chest. “and I almost forgot how good you taste.” you purred, sinking down his lower body.

your fingers slid down his abs, tugging at the waistband of his sweatpants to reveal his thick, eight inch piece of flesh that ached for you. without hesitation, you took him in your hand, stroking him slowly. his breath hitched, and he groaned, tangling his hands in your curls as your lips enveloped around the brown tip of his cock, savoring the taste of his precum as you drew him into the warmth of your mouth.

“shit, baby,” roman moaned, his grip tightening around your thick coils as you worked him down your throat. “that’s my good girl…suck it just like that.”

you peered up at him through your thick lashes, your brown eyes full of mischief and as you took him deeper in your throat, gagging around him as your hand began stroking in time with your mouth. his body tensed, the pleasure building in every thrust of his hips as you took him closer to the edge.

just when you thought you had him where you wanted him, roman tugged you off him, his eyes glazed with lust. “there’s only one place I wanna cum pretty girl,” he growled, pulling you onto his lap, your body straddling on top of his.

with one smooth motion, he lined up his cock—heavily coated with your saliva—to your throbbing entrance and thrusts into you, filling and stretching you completely, a gasp escaping both your lips at the perfect fit. roman’s hands gripped your ass, guiding you as you bounced on him, your bodies moving in sync. his lips found your neck again, whispering against your heated skin, “you riding me so good, baby. she’s just gripping on daddy huh? take that dick honey, it’s all yours.”

you mewled in response, your pussy tightening around him as he caressed all the right spots, your nails digging into his broad shoulders. “ugnh fuck…need….more,” you pleaded breathlessly.

roman obliged and began to thrust up into you, his pace relentless, his hips snapping against yours with powerful, deliberate thrusts. his body worshipped yours like the moon casting it’s light over the ocean, rising and falling in sync with your movements. you felt yourself spiraling closer to your orgasm again, your breath catching as he brought you right to the brink.

“please,” you cried out, your voice barely a whisper as your climax approaching. “please don’t stop I’m gonna cum.”

roman’s grip tightened as he thrust deeper, on the brink of his own release. “cum with me, mama,” he encouraged, voice shaky with need. “be my good girl and make a mess with daddy”

your body shattered into pleasure, your walls clenching around him as your orgasm gushed on both of your thighs, your high pitched moans echoing in the room. roman soon followed, spilling his thick warm into you with a deep groan, his body slightly trembling as he buried himself inside you one final time.

breathing heavily, you collapsed into his arms, your bodies still intertwined as the aftershocks of your rendezvous lingered. roman’s lips brushed your forehead, his voice now soft and full of affection. “I love you, beautiful. you are my everything, y’know.”

“I love you too,” you whispered back, stroking his beard with your fingers as you both drifted into a peaceful, satisfied sleep.

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