#If you're here for serious drawings you're in the wrong place

[otiksimr]

i love your dragon art and i kindly offer you this rathalos

hes one of monster hunters more Dragon Shaped Dragons, but the series has a ton of fun designs, and if you like it id love to see your take/opinion on them some day!

[luveline]

Hi Jade! I’ve been on my criminal minds rerun and it made me come up with this Spencer request if you’re taking them right now! Something along the lines of the reader and Spencer being together and she becomes pregnant but he pieces it together before she does!

tysm for requesting! hope this is ok♡ 1k

cw fem!reader has a positive attitude towards her pregnancy. vaguely adult theme

"I really don't think I can go," you say, flopping down on the bed. 

Spencer laughs and shakes out the shirt in his hands, hoping the creases from the dryer will iron themselves before dinner tonight. "You always say that."

"I really mean it this time. I miss Hotch, I do, and I'm glad he's out of WITSEC, but thinking about the restaurant is making me queasy." 

"Really? I looked it up, it's a nice place. They have their Grade A, it should be spotless in there. I'm pretty sure they almost got a Michelin star." 

You groan, turning onto your side. "I looked too. The entire menu is seafood," you whine. 

"What's wrong with that?" Spencer asks, giving you a quizzical look. 

"The smell." You rub your nose against his pillow and sigh. "I don't feel good. Didn't rough me up in my sleep, did you?" 

"I would never do that," he says, putting the last of the laundry aside to sit by your hip. His hand rests naturally against the slight curve of your side, fingertips pushing the hem of your shirt up enough to steal a glance at your back. 

He wouldn't say this aloud and it doesn't matter, but you've gained a little weight recently. Actually, it does matter in that he thinks it's adorable, but he knows that telling your partner they've gained weight is a faux pas. He likes it, anyhow. It's happy weight. 

Things are so serious now but they don't feel serious. There's no solemness in your relationship, just comfort. He's putting on weight in tandem. 

"You really don't want to go?" Spencer asks. The earlier he lets Hotch know the better. 

You wrap an arm around your stomach. "Sorry, Spence. I'm so sorry, I've felt sick all day and I think it'll just be a repeat of yesterday morning." You puked before breakfast, the smell of eggs too much to bear.

Spencer feels it click into place then and there. The weight, the puking, your changing taste. Your sore chest and lower back, your sensitivity. 

He pushes you gently, a hand on your hip to encourage you down. Careful, he lays down next to you, propping his head on the pillow as he brings hand up to hold you. He can't know for sure… but if you're pregnant as he suspects, it fits. And more than that, it's insane. He doesn't know how to handle this besides wrapping you up in his arms. He'll keep you forever, if he can. 

"Don't be sorry," he says, his voice faraway. You relax completely in his arms, sliding your leg over his to lock him in. "Does your back still hurt?" 

"My chest, Spence," you lament, "it feels like I'm winded. I think I'm coming down with something. Maybe you shouldn't be near me." 

"In that case, I'm staying right here." 

You laugh softly, the warmth of it a circle on his shoulder. "I can call Hotch myself and say sorry. I'll feel better in a few days, and we'll reschedule, and I'll pay even if he tries to." 

Spencer draws a line up your back. Now or never. 

He steels his nerves, the beginning of a hypothesis hesitating on his tongue. Your symptoms in addition to your irregular period and your regular sex lives points toward pregnancy. How does he say that? How should he say it? Should he even bring it up? Perhaps he should wait until you discover it yourself. And you aren't definitely pregnant, it's just a possibility. Maybe you're simply sick—

"Hey, earth to handsome," you whisper, cupping his cheek in your soft palm. You smile as he snaps out of his thoughts. "Hey. I lost you for a few seconds, where'd you go?" 

"Nowhere. I'm here." 

Your smile gets impossibly fond. It's not dissimilar to how you usually look at him. "Are you okay?" 

"Fine. I love you." 

"I love you," you say. 

There's something about you now, this gaussian blur to you. Sunlight seeps in lazily through the blinds thick as honey, a golden kiss to your skin where you lay face to face with him, and your I love you makes him want to cry. This is all ridiculous and amazing and he doesn't know what to do, doesn't know how to make his mouth move into the right words. 

"What is it?" you ask. You know him better than anyone. 

"I think you're pregnant." Spencer winces, though he can't beat his smile into submission. "I mean. You could be pregnant." 

"Why do you think that?" you ask, visibly startled. 

"Your sensitivity to strong smells, your soreness, your late period, to name the more obvious. That's not factoring in your worsening low iron lately, and your headaches." You make a strange sound he doesn't like. "What?" he asks worriedly.  

"I'm late," you say into yourself, looking past him as you puzzle it over. 

"It's a good thing, if you are. I mean, it's an amazing thing if you want it to be. I'm saying everything wrong. It's only amazing if you want it to be, I want it to be. But I'm on your side no matter what." He grimaces into his hands, rubbing his face with both palms. 

You sit as he panics. He clicks his neck looking up, racing to follow you, alarmed as you shimmy down the bed toward the ensuite bathroom. 

"What are you–" 

"I'm gonna take a test." 

"Wait a second." Spencer catches your hands before you can get too far, pulling you back to the end of the bed to sit down. "Wait. Is it– is it bad? If you are?" 

You look down at your stomach briefly. Anyone else might miss it, but Spencer can't not follow your behaviour, and the way you're acting now makes him think he got it wrong. That you won't be happy. 

You grab Spencer's hand. "You know, it's not funny. All our friends are gonna ask how I found out, and I'm gonna have to admit that you noticed it first." Your eyes track up his face almost shyly, and soon your smile is as blistering as his. 

Spencer bends under your weight as you jump up, throwing your arms behind his neck, your lips smashed to his ear. "I love you," you whisper urgently, "so much. This is good, right? This is really good." 

"Are you kidding?" he asks incredulously. 

Spencer takes your face into two hands and kisses you as hard as he ever has. He realises a second in that he'd much rather be squeezing you, caging you into the circle of his arms unrepentant. 

"We have a really good excuse to miss dinner," Spencer says.

He sounds close to tears. You're worse, laughing wetly as you pull him into the bathroom to take your test. 

[mommypieck]

⌗︙・tutoring with jean ⸜⸜・

we heard about different characters being nerds but what about jean?

he's so eager to let you study with him because he likes you but when the time finally comes, he's so frustrated with you.

"do you understand at least one thing?" he asks you after you get 8/10 answers wrong. you shake your head, unknowingly rubbing your thighs together at the harshness of his phone. jean is a cutie but he's too nerdy for you. he's always busy with drawing and school while you spend most of your time partying and cheering.

"you're not serious?" he grunts when you pull out your gloss to put it on your lips.

"what?" you ask him. wanting to be pretty is not a sin.

"i can't deal with this anyone." he says, his arms coming to pick you up. you squeak when he throws you on the bed, crawling on your chest.

he unbuckles his pants, pulling out his hard cock. your eyes widen at his size, he's so pretty, long and thick but nothing you can't take. at least that's what you thought.

"open your mouth." he orders, using his finger to pull your mouth open. he slides his cock right between your glossed lips. he doesn't give you any time to set your own place as he starts fucking your mouth. you choke and drool around his cock, tears slowly filling your eyes.

"maybe cock in mouth is gonna fuck some sense into you." he rips the buttons on your blouse open, revealing your bra clad boobs. he grips them with his big hands, kneeding and not giving your throat any peace.

"im gonna cum." he groans, softly slapping your face. your makeup is ruined, it's all over your place and you think about how ugly you must look. he sees you differently, jean thinks you're the prettiest like this. he shoves his cock deep in your mouth as he cums right down your throat. you choke on the amount of cum he makes, some of it even running down your face when he pulls out.

"good girl. now let's get back to studying." he says as he fixes his pants. he doesn't give a fuck if you're still messy.

"but im so wet, jean-boy."

he freezes, "oh fuck, you're such a slut.come here."

[pickingupmymercedes]

All these little things pt.2 - Lewis Hamilton

The other 9 snippets of fluff (as promised) - If you want here's the first batch - All these little things

Also there's 20 more fluffs just like these ones here - Ways to say I love you and Ways to say I love you pt. 2

pairing: Lewis Hamilton x Reader!

wordcount: +3k

a/n: More fluffs, because we need it! Also, some of the prompts I used here were requests, so if you'd like a specific drabble do send them in and I'll put them in a potential new part?!

As always, I'm open for feedback, come say hi!

______________________________________________________________

Adventures

The crisp autumn air danced through Y/N's hair as she tossed a worn leather satchel into the back of Lewis's sleek car. A mischievous glint twinkled in her eyes as she turned to face him, holding a folded roadmap in her hand.

"Okay, champ" she declared, a playful smile tugging at her lips. "Ready for an adventure?"

Lewis, not yet totally used to her spontaneous ideas, raised an eyebrow. " What kind of adventure?"

"The kind where you're in charge," Y/N announced, thrusting the map towards him. "Today, you're the navigator, and we're going wherever you point on this map."

Confusion flickered across Lewis's face. "No destination? You serious?"

"Absolutely serious," Y/N confirmed, her grin widening. "I drive, you tell where to. Consider it a chance to reconnect with your inner explorer."

Lewis chuckled, the challenge sparking a competitive glint in his eyes. "Alright. But don't blame me if we end up lost in the middle of nowhere."

With a playful swat at his arm, Y/N climbed into the driver’s seat. Lewis unfurled the map across his lap, his brow furrowing as he studied the intricate network of roads.

"Let's head for the mountains. Looks scenic." he announced, pointing at a winding route that snaked through a vibrant green patch on the map.

Lewis, tried to meticulously charted their course. Y/N, on the other hand, reveled in the unexpected detours – a charming roadside diner with a menu scribbled on a chalkboard, a hidden waterfall cascading down moss-covered rocks, a winding country road lined with vibrant yellow leaves.

They got lost, of course. Inevitably, they took a wrong turn, the map momentarily betraying them with its two-dimensional representation of a world full of surprises. But instead of frustration, a shared amusement filled the car. They stopped and asked for directions at a quaint gas station, the attendant drawing a squiggly line on their map with a permanent marker.

As the day wore on, he realized they weren't just exploring new places, they were rediscovering each other.

They talked about everything and nothing, their conversation flowing as effortlessly as the winding roads they traversed. Lewis, usually focused on the finish line, reveled in the simple joy of the journey. Y/N embraced the freedom of not knowing what lay ahead.

By the time the sun began its descent, casting long shadows across the landscape, they found themselves at a secluded beach, the golden sand kissed by the retreating waves. They sat in comfortable silence on the hood of the car, watching the fiery hues paint the sky, a shared sense of accomplishment settling over them.

"So" Lewis finally spoke, his voice tinged with wonder, "lost or found?"

Y/N turned towards him, a smile gracing her lips. "A little bit of both," she replied. "We might not have known where we were going, but we definitely found something."

Lewis leaned in, his lips brushing against hers. The journey, with all its twists and turns, had been a reminder that sometimes, the most beautiful destinations were the ones discovered along the way.

Naptime Cuddles

The roar of the crowds had faded into a distant memory, replaced by the gentle hum of the air conditioner and the rhythmic rise and fall of Lewis' chest beside her. A street lamp illuminated the room in the late afternoon, painting dappled patterns across the plush white duvet. Y/n snuggled deeper into Lewis' embrace, the familiar scent of his bodywash a comforting balm.

The post-race adrenaline rush had finally subsided, leaving behind a pleasant exhaustion. The flight back from had been a blur of cramped airplane seats and fitful sleep. But in the quiet sanctuary of their home, true relaxation finally claimed her.

One of his arms was draped possessively across her waist, his fingers unconsciously tracing circles on the small of her back. The warmth of his body was a comforting weight against hers, a silent invitation to surrender to sleep.

Y/n shifted slightly, her head burrowing into the crook of his neck. A contented sigh escaped her lips, and she felt Lewis stir beside her.

"Still awake, love?" he mumbled, his voice thick with sleep.

Y/n hummed in response, nuzzling closer. The sound seemed to be all the answer Lewis needed. He wrapped his arm tighter around her, his breathing falling back into a steady rhythm.

Silence settled over the room once more, broken only by the soft sounds of their sleep. The weight of the trophy he'd secured earlier that day seemed insignificant compared to the quiet comfort of this moment. For Lewis, victory wasn't just about the checkered flag; it was about the moments of peace that followed, moments shared with those he loved, where he could simply be Lewis, and the world could wait.

As sleep finally claimed Y/n, a single thought drifted through her mind – this, the quiet intimacy of a shared nap after a hard-fought win, was a victory all its own.

Season Calendar

The crisp scent of freshly brewed coffee mingled with the faint aroma of toast as Y/N fumbled with the calendar sprawled across the kitchen island. Lewis, a gentle smile playing on his lips, watched her wrestle with colored pens and sticky notes.

"So, Australia's a definite yes" Y/N declared, highlighting the season opener in Melbourne with a flourish. "Suzuka, is my favorite" she added, etching a bright pink heart beside the Japanese Grand Prix. "Miami for the after-race parties."

Lewis chuckled. "Since when did you become a party animal?"

Y/N winked. "Don't underestimate the allure of a good poolside DJ after a long race weekend."

Their fingers brushed as she reached for a blue sticky note, marking their planned trip to New York just before Monaco. "Monaco it’s…well, it’s Monaco," she continued, a playful glint in her eyes.

"Maybe another European race before Silverstone?" Lewis suggested, tracing a finger across the calendar. "Spa or Monza?"

Y/N hesitated for a moment. "Hm… I’d say Monza. Oh, and Silverstone's too," she declared, scribbling her name beside the British Grand Prix. "Promise to your mom"

A grin spread across Lewis's face. "Right"

"Monza," she added after a thoughtful pause "because it's your first race in Italia, as a Ferrari driver."

Lewis's eyes softened. "It is."

She nodded, a mischievous glint returning soon after. "Singapore, too. Night race fix."

As she marked Interlagos in São Paulo with a heart even bigger than Suzuka's, a blush crept onto her cheeks as Lewis smiled at her antics. "It’s your second home race and that little beach vacation before Vegas is too tempting to resist."

Vegas, the season finale, received a quick tick with her name next to it.

"Abu Dhabi for the closing ceremony?" she mused, tapping the last race tentatively.

Lewis raised an eyebrow. "You're practically attending the entire season, love" he teased with a hint of amusement in his voice.

Y/N looked up, feigning innocence. "Am I? It doesn't seem like that many."

Lewis laughed, shaking his head. "Babe, you've mapped out nearly the whole calendar”

"Well, someone has to support you, champion," she replied, a playful jab disguised by a loving smile. "Plus, there's the cultural immersion, the delicious food, the..."

"The endless supply of post-race champagne?" he finished her sentence, a knowing grin on his face.

Y/N winked. "There might be some of that too."

Tough Race

The air in the motorhome hung heavy, a stark contrast to the usual pre-race buzz. Lewis sat slumped on the plush couch, his helmet resting dejectedly on the coffee table. The screen of his phone displayed the stark reality – a disappointing qualifying position and a car that no one understood.

Y/N watched him from across the room, her heart heavy with empathy. She knew Lewis thrived on competition, on pushing himself to the limit. Seeing him so dispirited was a sight that tugged at her soul.

Placing her laptop aside, she walked over to him. Without a word, she sat beside him on the couch, her hands instinctively reaching for his shoulders. He flinched slightly at the touch, as if startled from his introspection.

"Tough day, huh?" she asked softly, her voice barely a whisper.

He sighed; the sound heavy with disappointment. "Yeah," he mumbled, avoiding her gaze. "Just feels like everything's going wrong."

Y/N remained silent, allowing him to express his frustration without words. She knew that sometimes, the most comforting thing was a quiet presence, a silent acknowledgment of his struggle. After a moment, he lifted his head, his eyes meeting hers. They held a vulnerability she rarely saw, a glimpse of the man beneath the champion's mask.

"Come here" she said gently, opening her arms for him to fall into. He leaned closer, his head resting on her chest. Instinctively, her fingers reached for his scalp, their gentle pressure working their way through his braids. It was a routine they'd developed over the years, a silent language of love and support.

As her fingers began a soothing massage, kneading away tension at the base of his skull, a soft sigh escaped Lewis's lips. His muscles, which had been coiled tight with frustration, started to relax under her touch.

"You have the talent, Lewis," she began, her voice barely louder than a whisper but filled with warmth "You have the dedication. This is just a bump in the road."

They sat in comfortable silence, the only sound the rhythmic hum of the motorhome and the gentle ministrations of her hands. Slowly, a spark of his usual fire began to return to his eyes.

"Next year can’t come soon enough" he finally murmured, his voice regaining its strength. "I’ll be the one in red waiting for you” her lips close to his ears, attesting to her loyalty to him.

Workouts

Sweat beaded on Y/N's forehead, blurring her vision slightly as she pounded the treadmill. The rhythmic thump of her feet echoed in the home gym, the only sound competing with the pulsing techno beat blasting through her headphones. She was lost in the zone, pushing herself further with each passing minute. Today's run was all about endurance, a long, slow burn to build her stamina.

Suddenly, a flicker of movement in the corner of her eye caught her attention. She glanced over, momentarily breaking her focus, to see Lewis bent over a weight bench, curls glinting in the afternoon sun streaming through the window. He was shirtless, his muscles flexing with each controlled rep.

Y/N looked away, forcing her gaze back to the treadmill display. “Great”, she thought, cheeks burning. “Now you're distracted.” She tried to refocus on her breathing, on the rhythm of her run, but the image of Lewis, sculpted and confident, kept intruding on her thoughts.

A mischievous glint entered Lewis's eyes. He knew he had her attention, even if she wouldn't admit it. With a slow, deliberate movement, he placed the dumbbells down and reached for the hem of his workout shirt. A slow peel, a suggestive glance thrown in Y/N's direction, and the shirt landed discarded on the floor.

Y/N let out a groan of frustration, more with herself than anything else. This was supposed to be a focused workout, not a session in ogling her impossibly attractive boyfriend. She cranked up the volume on her headphones, willing herself to ignore the blatant display happening across the room.

But Lewis wasn't done yet. He sauntered closer to the treadmill, a playful grin on his face. "Need anything?" he asked, his voice a low rumble.

Y/N gritted her teeth, refusing to make eye contact. "Nope, all good here" she mumbled, her voice strained.

Lewis chuckled, the sound rich and warm. "Alright, but if you do, I’ll be right here" he teased, leaning against the treadmill console, effectively blocking her view of the television and forcing her to acknowledge his presence.

Y/N glared at him, a flicker of amusement battling with her annoyance. "Seriously? I'm trying to work out here."

"And I'm trying to offer some motivation," he countered, his eyes twinkling. A small smile tugged at the corner of Y/N's lips. "Fine," she conceded, a playful challenge in her voice. "If you're so good at motivating, why don't you join me for a run?"

Lewis's grin widened. " Was just waiting for you to ask."

Grocery Shopping

Jet lag, like an unwelcome koala clinging to their luggage, had followed Y/N and Lewis all the way from Europe to Australia.

Yawns punctuated the silence as they stood in the brightly lit grocery store aisle, their usual meticulous list forgotten somewhere in their luggage.

"Alright," Lewis announced, rubbing his eyes "Essentials: Bread, milk, some fruit..."

Y/N's stomach rumbled loudly, betraying her fatigue. " chocolate… " she mumbled, grabbing the first bar her hand encountered, a garishly pink confection with a name that promised "explosive berry flavor".

Lewis chuckled. "Y/N, love. Maybe we prioritize some greens? " He reached for a bag of pre-washed salad mix.

"Fine." she conceded with a sigh, "But we're getting ice cream. My brain cells need a sugar rush."

He shook his head fondly, adding a carton of plant-based milk to the basket. "Alright, sugar monster."

Y/N scanned the shelves, her eyes landing on a display of colorful cocktail umbrellas. " Lewis" she said, her voice tinged with mischief "think these would look good on an Almave cocktail?"

Lewis raised an eyebrow as she shrugged, a playful smile on her lips. "Just planning ahead"

Alright" he conceded, tossing a pack of the umbrellas into the basket. " Healthy stuff now, babe. We need to get through the week"

Y/N groaned dramatically. "Ugh. Let me get some of those roasted chickpeas they have by the checkout, at least. They're practically healthy, right?"

Lewis laughed, pulling her close for a quick kiss as she reached for some sort of processed sugar. "Roasted chickpeas it is."

Weird dreams

Sunlight streamed through the blinds, painting golden stripes across the bedroom floor. Y/N stretched luxuriously, the remnants of a strange dream clinging to the edges of her consciousness.

"Lew" she mumbled, reaching for him on the other side of the bed. His side was cold, the sheets neatly pulled back. She sat up, a frown creasing her brow. "Lewis?" she called out a little louder.

He emerged from the bathroom, a towel wrapped around his hip, a face cream in his hand. "Morning, love" he greeted with a sleepy smile.

"Good morning" Y/N replied, her voice laced with a hint of confusion. "You were gone?" She gestured to the empty space beside her.

He paused, a puzzled look replacing his smile. "Gone? I haven't left the bed all night."

"Oh" Y/N said, feeling a wave of disorientation. "Must have been the dream then."

Lewis raised an eyebrow. " What kind of dream?"

Y/N hesitated for a moment, the strangeness of it all making her smile. "Well," she began, "It was the weirdest thing. We were both at the factory, but you were giving a motivational speech... to a room full of chickens."

Lewis burst out laughing, the sound echoing through the room as he doubled over, wiping tears from his eyes.

Y/N couldn't help but join in his laughter, the absurdity of the dream washing away the lingering confusion. As they lay back down in bed, Lewis pulled her close, y/n laying her head on his chest.

"So," Lewis said, his voice tinged with amusement "what motivational speech did I give to the chickens?"

Y/N snuggled closer, a playful glint in her eyes. "Oh, you know, the usual," she said, her voice laced with laughter. "Conquer the coop, dream big, peck your way to the top."

Lewis chuckled, nuzzling his face into her hair. "Sounds like something I’d say"

Y/N swatted him playfully on the arm. "Hey, maybe even chickens need a little inspiration sometimes.” a smile playing on her lips and he squeezed her softly.

Sickness

A crumpled ball of tissues lay discarded beside Y/N on the couch, a relentless battle she'd been waging with a head cold all morning. Her throat felt like sandpaper, and her entire body ached with a dull misery. Across from her, Lewis, usually thinking of what to do next, sat slumped on the armchair, a mug of lukewarm tea clutched in his hand.

"Alright," Lewis declared, pushing himself up from the chair with a grimace, "I'm going to tackle those emails. You just relax on the couch some more."

Y/N croaked out a protest. "Lewis, you look like you could use the couch more than me. Those dark circle under your eyes look awful.

He swiped a hand across his forehead, a frown creasing his brow. "Nothing to worry, love. Probably just didn’t get enough sleep."

Y/N sighed, a weary smile tugging at the corners of her lips. Ever the workaholic, even a mild illness couldn't keep him from his commitments. "Alright" she conceded, her voice hoarse, "but promise me you'll rest too?”

He flashed a reassuring smile, though it didn't quite reach his eyes. "Of course, lovely." He retreated to his office, leaving Y/N alone with the sniffles and the blaring silence of the weekend they'd both been looking forward to.

She tried to sleep, to watch tv, to lose herself in a book, but her eyes burned in their sockets. Frustrated, she finally reached for the thermometer. The red mercury climbing far too high for comfort.

Panic clawed at her throat. Lewis couldn't be getting sick too, not with his packed schedule for the next two months. Steeling herself, she pushed off the couch and made her way to the office. Lewis sat hunched over his laptop, his brow furrowed in concentration.

"Lew" she said softly, her voice thick with concern.

He looked up, startled. The feverish flush on his cheeks was undeniable now.

"What’s up babe?" he mumbled, his voice raspy

"You're burning up," she declared, placing a hand on his forehead. "We both are."

He let out a shaky sigh, finally acknowledging the truth. "This is the worst timing." he muttered, running a hand through his hair.

Y/N hugged his shoulders from behind his desk chair, her heart softening at his dejection. "All we can do is focusing on getting better" she said gently.

Lewis turned to look at her, his eyes filled with a grateful vulnerability. "Yeah" he conceded, a tired smile gracing his lips. "Let’s go back to bed then, we're watching all the cheesy rom-coms we can handle.”

Y/N laughed a bit before suddenly turning her head to the side to sneeze, a chuckle coming from Lewis as he got up and embraced her. "Deal" she finally agreed.

Morning rituals

A faint sunlight danced playfully across the open space of the kitchen; Lewis’ heavy steps caught y/n attention as the aroma of brewing coffee gently invited him to greet the day. A soft groan escaped his lips as he stretched, muscles protesting.

"Rough night, champ?" A voice, laced with amusement, drifted in from the kitchen. Lewis cracked open an eye mid-stretch to see Y/n leaning against the island, a steaming mug in hand.

"Just a bit" he admitted, a smile tugging at his lips as he flopped down on the sofa "That car is giving me a real workout."

Y/n chuckled, padding across the room and placing the mug on the coffee table "Well, here’s some fuel." She leaned down, brushing a kiss across his forehead, the scent of her minty shampoo lingering in the air.

Lewis inhaled deeply, the familiar scent a welcome comfort. He reached out, his hand landing on hers. "You shouldn't have gotten up so early" he mumbled, squeezing her fingers gently.

"Nah" Y/n replied, settling onto his lap "Early mornings are my secret weapon. Peace and quiet before the world wakes up."

Lewis raised an eyebrow. "You mean to tell me Roscoe snoring and the fog outside are your weapons?"

Y/n laughed, caressing his beard. "It might not be perfect, but it’s mine."

A comfortable silence settled between them, broken only by the soft clinking of mugs against the table’s glass. Lewis took a sip of his coffee, savoring the warmth that spread through him.

"So," Y/n began, a thoughtful look on her face as she slid to the sofa and rested her head on his shoulders "what's on the agenda for today?"

Lewis set down his mug. "Just some online meetings with the engineers in the afternoon. We can have a lazy morning if you’re not busy" his hopeful tone hung in the air for a beat too long.

Y/n took a slow sip from her mug, her eyes twinkling with amusement. "Actually," she said, a playful smile tugging at the corner of her lips, "I woke up feeling surprisingly productive. Maybe I'll finally tackle that mountain of emails I've been putting off." A flicker of disappointment crossed Lewis' face, until he realized what y/n had actually just said, quickly stamping a playful smirk and a light grab of her ass. "The hell you are."

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TAGLIST - @saturnssunflower @xoscar03 @chocolatediplomatdreamerzonk @happy-golden-hour @vicurious28

@0710khj @thecubanator2 @neilakk @bigratbitchsworld @adriswrld

@fearfam69691 @cmleitora

If you’d like to be added to my taglist you can leave a comment or send me a dm/ask.

[97keanu]

John Constantine x f!Reader

Premise: As Constantine's assistant, he tests your limits often. You know you're a smart, good girl. So when one wrong placed bet has you on your knees for Constantine as he enacts only your wildest fantasies, you don't know where you two stand anymore. You thought your little crush on him was buried deep, but it turns out you are willing to do much more than you ever want to admit. Tonight, he pushes you farther than you thought he ever would...

Tags/CW: MEAN!Constantine, bratty!reader, princess coded!reader, reader who thinks she's too good for you, leashed!reader, pet play, puppy!reader, bimbo-fied!reader, bdsm, age gap, p in v, f!reader, crybaby-ish!reader, crying kink, choking, AGGRESSIVE, oral (m receiving.), dub-ishcon, degradation, humiliation, praise kink, girl on top, raw, edging.

Be added to my tag lists here! Read more of my works here!

You knew making a bet with Constantine was never the right move. Your pride got ahead of you, trailing behind it your ego, and your intelligence, that you love to portray in yourself, nowhere to be found. You knew there was no way you would be able to figure out how to hunt a demon all by yourself, you should have never accepted a bet that if you did, Constantine would start treating your training seriously. Now, you've lost, and on top of it, you agreed to do whatever Constantine said from now on. And that does mean, whatever he says, you soon realize...

"I am not doing that, Constantine!" You stomp a chunky heeled foot and fold your arms, trying to look mean and serious the way he does, but failing.

"What's wrong, you're such a 'goody-two-shoes' that you can't have some fun every now and then?" He takes a long draw from his cigarette, he's so close you can smell the cologne mixed with smoke coming from him.

It was bitter and spicy, only the smallest hint of sweetness.

"Fun? You think leashing me is some sort of 'fun' for me?" You scoff and glare as he blows smoke into your face, batting it away with one hand.

"Yeah, it'll loosen you up a bit. Maybe you can turn that bright mind of yours off while I tug on your leash and make you sit pretty." He gives you a thump in your forehead when he mocks your smart tendencies, and you feel anger rising even more.

Your cheeks go red and you know you just look even more pathetic when you're mad at like this.

"I don't see how any of this has to do with learning to hunt demons or helping you." You scoff and turn your eyes from him, completely baffled by the whole idea.

"It might teach you that you can't just go off on your own trying to slay a demon before you're ready. It also might show you where you fit in all of this..." He teases you, pull a lock of your hair between two of his fingers.

"And where's that? Beneath you?" You say it with disdain, but the truth is that you wouldn't mind that so much. The heat between the two of you has been brewing since you started the job with him. It was only a matter of time...

"Lighten up, Princess. It's just my way of pay back for you losing the bet. Besides, I might even give you a treat if you're a good girl." He pulls your chin up, forcing your big doe eyes to look into his deep brown ones.

And that's how you ended up here. On your knees, a leather collar around your dainty little neck, looking up at Constantine as he tugs you towards him. You can't believe you've been brought so low. You started this job because you thought you had the smarts and academic research to help aid in finding demons. Now you're looking up at your own personal demon.

"Crawl." Constantine commands, and pulls on your leash, forcing you to follow if you don't want to be choked.

You feel so humilated. Your cheeks heat to a level that you didn't think possible, and your lip quivers as you try to force down your sudden feelings of inadequacy. Constantine is not stopping until you really know your place.

"Sit." He finally says once he's dragged you to the bedroom, yanking on your chain when you don't do so fast enough.

You feel tears welling up, and soon enough, you know it's not just because of how embarrassed you feel about the situation. Instead, you feel yourself beginning to like being commanded as such. Deny it all you want as tears roll down your cheeks, but you like giving up all the control you fight for.

"Don't cry," Constantine laughs at you, his cruelty knowing no bounds. "You don't know how much more it turns me on to see you cry..."

"You're sick..." You whisper and look at the ground, but Constantine's yank of your leash stops you from looking away.

"Don't act like you're not enjoying this, Princess. I can see it in your eyes." You gaze at him and hate how easily your rising arousal is seen.

Constantine sits on the bed, watching as you sit on your knees before him. The hard wood floors are leaving your knees aching already, and somehow that pain is sending heat between your legs in waves.

"I want you to undress." Constantine commands you.

You want to resist. You know resisting is almost as bad as admitting defeat, however. And since you've already lost once, getting you into this situation, you feel like the test is on now.

"This is completely ridiculous..." You grumble, your hands folding over your chest.

"Is it?" Constantine laughs while he looks down at you, cheeks hot and wet. "You're the one who agreed to let me test your limits however I desired. You knew what you might be getting yourself into. I'm sure you secretly hoped it would come to this."

His voice chides you like a child, making you feel even lower, and the worst part was, he was right. Fantasies of Constantine doing whatever he pleased with you had floated through your head when you agreed. You never thought it would involve treating you like a bad puppy, however.

"You're so cruel to me..." The last part comes out in a whisper as your arms move, lifting your shirt to reveal what you have on underneath.

"Interesting how such a prude as yourself has such sexy lingerie underneath..." Constantine's eyes eat you up.

He watches with hunger as you kneel there, your lacy, black bra the only thing that covers your chest, which is heaving with the nervous and aroused breaths you take.

"I..." You try to think of something smart-assed to say, but end up short.

The truth was, you started wearing such lacy and tempting things beneath your clothes soon after you started working for him. You know why.

You know that you wanted to be ready, just in case...

And now here you are, all blush and embarrassment, tear stained cheeks and anger for being brought to this, laid almost bare in front of him. This man you have claimed to his own face to dislike. You feel such a fool as yourself probably deserves to be treated as such as he pull your chain nearer to him.

"Don't be so pathetic, puppy..." He gives another yank. "I think you'll find if you're a good doggy for me I might just give you a treat."

You glare at him as you sit so perfectly between his legs. You can see the huge bulge pressed up against his black suit pants, and you shift your thighs uncomfortably as you realize how badly you want to take him into your mouth. When your big eyes look up at him, lashes batting and confused, Constantine smirks.

"You don't have to hold yourself back, go ahead, take it out." And despite yourself, your hands are moving to the zipper and buttons of his pants, so slowly.

You let Constantine's cock take over your view, flopping out of his pants and easily into your hands. You're tired of fighting it. The ache deep in your stomach and between your thighs has gotten too persistent to ignore, and now here you are, leashed and stroking your boss's cock.

You know how much he's enjoying this, beyond even just the pleasure you're feeding him right now with your hand. He likes this feeling of domination over you, likes seeing you finally let go. You can't help but feel like this is where he thinks you belong. Beneath him and doing what you're told.

"That's it..." He sighs, leaning his head back ad your hand warms his cock for him. Even just the smell of it from how close you are, is filling your pretty little head and driving you mad.

You bite your lip and look up to him, he's loosening his tie and pulls your leash again, leading you even further to do what he wants. Your mouth waters as you think about putting something as big as his cock in it. You don't even know if you could fit it all, to be honest...

You hear him let out a small moan, obviously not wanting to do so. And as he does, you realize he needs this, this release, just as much as you do. You may be the one leashed and collared, but he's the one who's needing his cock touched so badly right now.

You bring the tip to your pouty mouth, and Constantine's warm brown eyes look down at you. You look into them sweetly and tease him with your tongue. He seems to be responding well, until goes on too long, and he reached a hand up and takes it behind your head.

"I can't wait that long, puppy." His voice is filled with need, and as he pressed on the back of your head, you can't help but open up, taking his cock into your mouth.

What really surprised you was how deep he pushes you, taking in way more than you thought possible and still having more left over. You choke for a moment, and it's clear Constantine likes hearing it. He continues to bob your head for you, his grip tightening and getting rougher just to hear your muffled cries. You feel the tears welling up again, this time involuntarily, caused by how rough he's fucking your throat and face. You grip his thighs, hands against his pants, and look up at him like the pretty princess you are, being all used up by such a wicked man as him.

"God, you've got such a cute face when you take my cock like that..." He groans out, head falling back once more as he loses himself in you for a moment.

You feel how tight he has you pulled by your leash, and you know you couldn't stop if you wanted to. He has you so perfectly trapped right now, and somehow being so restrained makes your pussy even wetter. You had no idea you needed to be tamed like this.

Suddenly, he pulls your head violently from his cock, spit trailing and eyes blinking out a few more tears. You look up at him with your big wet puppy dog eyes, trying to catch your breath and stop from choking on your own spit that's accumulated.

"Alright, princess," he starts with a heavy breath of his own, pulling your lead and your hair as he moves you up on to the bed with him. "I want to see what else you can do."

Constantine perfectly places you on top of him, his cock underneath your pussy, your thin piece of underwear being the only thing stopping him from slipping inside of you.

He's kept most of his clothes on, and somehow it makes you feel even more degraded knowing that he doesn't even feel the need to get that naked and open to you. It feels quick, it feels easy, it feels like fucking a stranger in a seedy little hotel room. You adore it...

You don't even have to be told, your mind is taken over by your own needs, and you begin to rub your soaking pussy against his solid cock. Constantine smiles and seems to be praising you for your good slut abilities.

"Such a good whore for me..." He whispers, grabbing your hips and rocking you into him in just the right way.

You're so much smaller on his frame as you needily grind yourself into him. He seems so much bigger, and the fact that he's so much older than you, so much more mature, adds to the fact that you feel humiliated and used by him. You're sure he feels the same, and enjoys seeing your young little body using herself up on his cock. You can tell by the way he's looking at you right now, like a hungry wolf waiting for the perfect moment to slaughter the poor little lamb.

"Move them to the side..." He says with a husky breath, not even trying to be kind or nice in asking.

"Y-yes..." You muster out, and reach down, moving your panties out of the way to expose your wet little slit.

Constantine easily lifts you up, and in one solid motion, not waiting to let you acclimatize to such a large cock. You cry out, loud and long, and he cuts it off with a quick pull of the collar, that choking feeling back and the pain and domination mixing with the pleasure of being so perfectly full. You let out a few choked noises as he grinds you in as deep as humanly possible.

Your mind reels from how much has been taken from you already tonight, and a small bit of fear settles in you as you wonder what you've gotten yourself into. How aggressive could he possibly be? You have no idea, but right now, despite being on top, you've never felt so inferior to Constantine, and with the way he's cruelly enjoying your pain, you shudder.

He only let's you remain still like this for a moment, obviously admiring his handy work on you. Soon enough, he's quickly lifted you again, and slammed himself back into you. You feel as if you may break into two, his cock splitting you so deeply. He continues this, hitting the deepest parts of you with such pleasurable pain that you pant out, breaths shaking and mixing with your cries. Your cheeks are stained with your mascara as more salty tears find their release and you begin to wonder where a fucking like this was all your life.

"I love seeing you so sloppy and your perfect little make up your work so hard on completely fucked like this." You hear Constantine say as he continues to use your body however he likes, fucking you harder and faster as he goes.

One of his hands finds your clit, rubbing circles that cause you to double over into him, your hands gripping his white button down and tie, face so close to his now.

"A good whore doesn't come out of the bedroom without a mess on her face." He whispers to you, so close now, he can see all the pain and desperation, all the need and pleasure on your face as your mind is completely fogged.

You keep letting him take you, slowly becoming more and more malleable in his hands, becoming a moaning little mess of a girl that is being fucked on his cock, making a mess of that as well as you get wetter and wetter, his hand bringing you closer with every stroke against your swollen and needy clit.

All you can do is close your eyes and lose yourself on him. You feel yourself edging closer and closer, and your lip trembles, your teeth finding it and biting to keep yourself from cumming to fast, but it's no use.

"F-fuck...I'm going to..." You can't stop the whisper that comes, and you begin to unwind.

You feel him stop suddenly, and then laugh.

"I'm not doing all the work, princess." He says, and leans back, putting both his hands behind his head, one still holding your leash of course.

"Wh-what?" You blink, breathing trying to regulate, looking up at him like a lost little puppy.

"That's right, I wanna see you work yourself on me. It's time you do some of the work if you want to cum, that is." His stupid, mean, cocky face tells you there's no getting out of this, but your lip pouts anyways.

"Hey! That's not fair, I was so close..." You see that it doesn't matter what you say, and his accompanying laugh doesn't make you feel much better anyways.

Your aching and throbbing cunt gets the better of the situation, and you put aside your stubborn nature for the prize of more friction.

You lean up, one hand out stretched as far as it goes, keeping your balance on Constantine's chest. Your hips rock, slowly, then picking up speed and losing awkwardness in favor of deeper thrusts of his cock into you. You begin to moan, finally finding the ultimate pleasure you were missing, free hand moving to your clit once more and giving the needed attention.

"Don't you dare cum without asking me, puppy." Constantine has sat up a bit, so he can pull you closer and say this while looking directly into your eyes. His intensity let's know their will be punishments if you don't do as he commands. You nod your head, willing to do anything right now.

You continue on, fucking yourself perfectly, and feeling your pussy tighten on it's own around him. He's harder than ever, his hips bucking into a bit despite saying you needed to get your own cum from his cock.

"I love seeing you work so hard for it." He whispers, his hand reaching out and wrapping around your neck, moving your head to keep eye contact despite wanting nothing more than to close your eyes and relish in the pleasure.

"Constantine, please, I need to cum..." You whisper out, eyes pleading and messy with running mascara.

"You'll have to do better than that. I need you to beg like the good dog you are." He responds with a wicked grin, eating up all of your desperation with glee.

"Oh god, please, I can't keep this up," you try to get out of it, but his grip on your throat tightens.

"I decide when you cum. Get that through your pretty little head, princess." He scoffs.

"Fine," you cry as he digs his cock deeper right where you need it.

"I'm begging you, please let me cum, I'll do anything, I'll say anything, just let me cum..." The words come out whiney, and breathy, and fast, need building beyond what you ever thought, your hand having to take breaks on your clit, knowing if you don't you'll fall over the edge.

"Anything?" Constantine replies, and you have a bad feeling about the look on his face.

"A-anything..." You whimper out, grinding relentlessly like the needy little bitch you are.

"Fine." he licks his teeth. "Bark like a dog for me, and I'll let you cum."

You look at him stunned for a moment, not wanting to do something so humiliating, cheeks burning hotter than they already are.

"You're kidding..." He stops fucking you and tightens his grip on your throat further, choking out the second word, he doesn't need to say that he's not.

You feel so close, and you need this so bad, but you have never felt so degraded...

Moments pass, and the loss of friction and the need for more builds.

You hold your breath, trying not even to breathe right now, trying not even to give him anything after he's taken so much from you tonight.

When you do breath, you feel utterly embarrassed about what comes out.

A whimper, then a bark. From the look on his face, you know it's not enough. You continue, your bark growing louder and louder until you're desperately crying it out. When you look back, he's laughing at you, and you feel like a school girl again, getting bullied. Somehow, that makes the need grow even more.

"Alright, alright," he says between laughs. "You can cum..."

And then, it's you that holds him down, your muscles tighten and Constantine let's you take him for the first time tonight however you want. You get the power right now, you've earned it after what he's put you through, and he freely let's you fuck him and use his cock however you need. And you do, and you feel yourself spilling, spilling, spilling...

You release on him, and he tells praises you as you do, your walls tightening and bringing him to his own release. You feel his cum, hot and sticky, filling you up more and more with every stroke.

"God, you're so pretty when you take what you want. What a pretty little puppy you are..." He breathes, keeping up with an endless amount of praise that you so desperately needed as you finish, coming down slowly from everything and finally resting, exhausted on his chest, cock still inside you, twitching.

You two say nothing for a long time, laying just like that, and to your surprise, sleep gets the better of you, and you find Constantine's arms wrapping around you to keep you from falling off his chest, and cock. You drift off to the most peaceful, dreamless sleep, you've had since starting this job. Maybe he was right. Maybe you did enjoy this more than you thought, but you'd never let him know that.

Taglist: @worldsgreatestsinner @discoscoob @nwheregirl @slutforsoldierboy @sughcashsaiki @sebastianstanisahotmf @iovesia @brooxie3

Ask to be taken off anytime, be added to the tag list here!

[tinfoil-jones]

Gravity Falls: For Your Own Good, Ch. 1

Summary: A few years after moving to Gravity Falls and having his lab built, Stanford Pines happens upon his estranged twin brother, Stanley. He mentally prepared himself to be suffocated by his brothers neediness all over again - what he wasn't prepared for was Stanley walking right past him like he didn't even notice him.

Rating: M for language, violence, and adult implications

Warnings: Dialogue only, but some actions will be annotated for clarity. Cross-Posted on AO3 Here.

Next

CH.1

‘What is he doing here? Ten years and he comes to Gravity Falls of all places? He must want something… Probably money. I don’t have the time or energy to entertain his neediness or dependency.’

‘Wait, what? Why’d he just walk past me? He’s ignoring me? Is this some mental game he’s trying to play? I’m not playing his games today. He isn’t going to manipulate me into starting a dialogue.’

‘...And he’s still walking away, hasn’t even turned his head back.’

‘Whatever, it doesn't bother me.’ 

‘It doesn't bother me.’

‘It bothers me!’

‘IT BOTHERS ME A LOT!’ “HEY!”

"Woah, stop yelling-. Can I help you?"

"Is that all you have to say, after what you did?"

"You're going to have to be more specific."

"Really, Stanley?"

"Look man if I owe you money, I'll have it by the end of the week."

"It hasn't been that long, there's no reason you shouldn't recognize me."

"Drawing a blank, buddy. Maybe you're not that special."

"...Me? Your twin? Your identical twin?"

"I think I'd know if I had a twin - look, sorry if you're mistaking me for someone else. But you're really barking up the wrong tree here."

"Wait, what's wrong with-"

"Woah dude, hands off!"

"Stanley... are you injured?"

"Uh, yeah. But it's not a big deal."

"What's your injury?"

"Keep your damn voice down, guy-"

"Stanford- Ford. You know that!"

"Okay FORD if you must know, it's just a couple stab wounds. Nothing to worry about."

"A couple?! As in more than one? Have you been to the hospital for this?"

"I can't afford that shit. Three stab wounds isn't anything serious- four would slow me down, I don't start to worry until about five."

"That's not how stab wounds work!"

"Please, I've been stabbed enough times to know."

"Somethings very wrong, Stanley- you need medical care, and fast-"

"What are you, a doctor?"

"Yes."

"...A medical doctor?"

"...No."

"Uh-huh, okay PhD, I appreciate your civic concern, but my conditions and lack thereof is none of your business. I'm sure you're a decent conversationalist when you're talking to someone you know, but I got places I need to be"

"Wait, before you go, I have one more question. Does this rag smell like chloroform to you?"

"Pft, you really think I'd fall for that?"

"No."

CLICK

*Looks down and see’s Ford jabbed him in the abdomen with a tranquilizing gun. Looks back up at Ford. Looks back down at the gun slightly longer. Then looks back up at Ford again.*

"Touché, Doc."

To be continued...

[romanoffsbish]

Clandestine Meetings

Natasha Romanoff x Fem!R

Prompts / Request

 “Go and lock the door for me.  I don’t want anyone to walk in while I’m balls deep.”

 “Go get one of your toys.  Let’s make this even better.”

“Is that gonna fit?”  “I’ll make it fit.”

Warnings: Jealousy, Emotionally Stunted Natasha

Smut: Natasha has a penis, Daddy(N), Detka/Whore(R), Nipple Clamps, Vibrating Egg, Oral(R), Unprotected Sex/Breeding, Choking, Edging/Teasing, Orgasm Denial.

18+ | Minors DNI

"I want love Nat, you just want a quick fuck."

The words you whispered to her over a month ago have been bouncing around her mind the entire time, plaguing her very soul. It got to the point where while away on her mission she couldn't even focus on the objective anymore.

Who were you to just come to a conclusion like that without so much as a conversation?

——

Not a, "Nat, we need to talk," or a "I'm not sure we want the same things Nat, correct me if I'm wrong here," and she would've corrected you. Because you were so far off base, all Natasha wanted was to love you, she just didn't know how to do that outside of worshipping you in deeply passionate moments that usually ended just as fast as they began, and left you alone.

Now here you lay on the compounds couch in your sleep shorts, a sight the redhead would love to see every morning in her own room. Waking up beside you would be a dream new experience, potentially challenging, but she knows that she'd grow to love the situation.

Natasha already loved you—desperately so.

The only obstacle here had been her inability to make her loving intentions clear to you. She'd always been a bit more on the vulgar side, and you seemed into it for awhile, but one random night you shoved her away and that was just it.

As soon as she figured herself out, she was going to make things right with you. But there was apparently a new obstacle, because right now your head was settled into another's lap.  Carol was listening to you ramble on while mindlessly stroking your cheek. Natasha envied the blonde's ability to offer such an intimate moment without any real effort.

When she saw how much the woman enjoyed your presence she felt her heart shattering into tiny, jagged pieces. With her jaw clenched she rushed out of the kitchen and went straight to her room where she allowed a stray tear to fall. Then she reached for her phone, and sent you a text message: Meet me in my room in 5 !

Carol smiled down at you knowingly when she heard the ding of your phone, "I told you to go after her Y/N, she didn't seem very pleased."

"Yeah, and I don't give a fuck," you huffed, arms crossing over your chest, and the blonde cackled wildly at the sign of faux indifference before she returned to a more serious state.

"Y/N, ever since she's been gone all you've done is mope around this place, but oh look, the day she's back you suddenly appear before me with a sunny disposition and expect me not to see right through it? Answer her text and maybe even go get laid, you're insufferable."

"Carol," you groaned, hands flying to your face to hide the mortification in your eyes at the brutal call out, "She doesn't want me," you pouted, "at least not in the way I want her to."

"Did she say that?" Carol asks while lazily drawing circles on your shoulder to calm you.

"She didn't have to say it out loud..."

"Oh Y/N," she tilted your head so you would be facing her, she caressed your cheek then spoke, "Natasha isn't exactly known for expressing her feelings in ways that make sense, so how about you put your big girl pants on, and force her to say the words she couldn't manage to before."

You huffed while glaring up at her, knowing she was right, but in the same breath you snatched your phone up, and read the message while rolling your eyes, a bitter chuckle leaving you as you saw the song that happened to have been softly playing at the time of arrival.

After a moment of soul searching you took off to her bedroom in a frenzied ball of nerves. Entering her space felt both comfortingly familiar, and extremely uneasy. Seeing her sat on the bed in sweats with her legs manspread, leaning back on her exposed muscular arms as she wore a cami without a bra you felt your body tingle with need, and your mouth go dry.

With a sly smirk, and a crook of her finger you made your way further into the room, but she left you to be blanketed in an awkward silence. It was clear she didn't actually expect you to be here, and now that you were she was weighing out her options, but just like usual, she was not able to articulate the right words like: I missed you, I love you, or please, don't leave again...

"Go and lock the door for me. I don't want anyone to walk in while I'm balls deep," the redhead commanded dryly, and though the thought of her inside you alone nearly brought you to your knees, you rolled your eyes instead and went to hurriedly walk away again.

Natasha ran after you, catching you by the wrist to prevent you from leaving, "Y/N, stop doing this okay," she pinched the bridge of her nose, and softly sighed, "I don't know how to do all of this, vulnerability isn't my strong suit, okay? Just let me show you instead..."

You furrowed your brows, and she sighed exasperatedly, "Give me a chance, please."

Saying no to her would be in vain, because it was all you wanted to finally be beneath her, so you nodded without really much hesitation.

Natasha leaned in to kiss you, the first time in your whole arrangement that she'd done it with any semblance of care present. Normally it's all teeth clashing, and tongues sloppily gliding over the other while she brought you to bliss.

Up until now Natasha has only ever offered you quick moments, with only her hands or mouth diligently bringing you over that glorious edge. Never had she actually shown you tenderness, but more importantly, she had yet to fuck you with the bulge poking you through her pants.

Natasha wasn't ready to give you all of her, it was actually something she'd never done with another person that she loved before. She's screwed girls before, usually as a means to an end, with their faces smushed into a mattress, but she couldn't bring herself to do it with you. No matter how desperate she was for release after hearing and seeing you come undone for her, or how prettily you'd beg to help her out each time, she just couldn't cross that line.

But now, she knew it was all she could do to make sure you understand, that you feel her in every sense possible, and feel her love for you.

"Na-Natasha," breathlessly you stuttered out her name as your hips reflexively canted into hers, "I need you daddy, please, fill me up."

Natasha groaned, pulling away from your lips she smirked devilishly, you could see the flicker of mischief in her gaze as she leaned down to suck a mark onto your smooth skin, "Go get one of your toys. Let's make this even better."

The knob twisted in her hands this time, she watched in amusement as you scurried across the hall to your room in your mussed up state.

"Look at how desperate you already are detka," she slammed you back into the door as soon as you crossed the threshold, the door slammed close with the impact and you moaned weakly.

Surveying the items in your hands she softly chuckled, "Oh, you're in for it now Y/N, gonna give you all of me so you can finally understand what my true intentions with you are."

This time when she kissed you it was with a bit of urgency, her hands contrastingly gripped your hips softly, and without ever breaking the kiss she walked your body over to the mattress. Natasha lowered you down gently, and as she rose back up she collected the nipple clamps and the vibrating bullet from your hands.

"May I?" Natasha gestured to your body, and you smiled gratefully, no matter how quickly she usually took you, she'd always been keen on hearing consent. "Please, do it already."

The sleep clothes were quickly discarded, and her lips latched onto your risen buds instantly. Her tongue rolled around your nipple slowly, causing your breath to shallow as you were overrun with pleasurable anticipation. After a moment she released your nipple with a pop, giving you only seconds to adjust to the chill on your wetted skin before she attached a clamp.

Natasha caught your hand before it could mindlessly tug the clamp off, "It's okay detka," she shushed you softly, tenderly smiling down at you as she slid her fingers between yours, "You're okay," she gently brushed her lips over your knuckles before laying your interlocked hands on top of the mattress. A whimper left you as you were overrun with a overdue sense of comfort from her, then you were moaning when her lips returned to your heated skin.

"I'm going to ruin you Y/N," she growled around your other nipple before she bit into the hypersensitive skin, "No one will ever touch you again after I leave a mark on what's mine."

"Say it," she growled as she hovered over you, but before you could even try she was clamping your sore bud, effectively making you wince.

"Oh shit," you gasped when she gave the chain a harsh tugging to ensure it was properly attached, the accompanying pain was dizzying.

"I asked you to say something," she leered over you, hand now wrapped around your throat in a way that not only intimidated you but left you absolutely dripping onto her expensive sheets.

Natasha watched your brainless eyes searching for a response, it took you a minute, but you were finally about to open your mouth, but all that came out was a lewd moan as she pressed the vibrating egg into your slicked up cunt.

"Come on now detka, you know I don't like to be made to wait," she tightened her hand around your throat, something that only ever adds to your pleasure, and she knew that, it was honestly her favorite, slowly draining the life from you as she brought your body to euphoria, only to spare you in the last second.

She was a bit of a sadist. You didn't mind...

Something about that control was exhilarating, seeing your eyes grow hazier with every second as you harshly choked never failed to make her cock twitch. Maybe it was the underlying way in which you trusted her to never go too far, it had her overwhelmed with unwavering joy.

After allowing you a moment of pure bliss she deemed it enough, so she tore it away from you, ripping the vibe out of you and watching in amusement as your eyes filled with tears, and your lip was now caught between your teeth, "Daddy no, please, I-I was so close."

Your whimpering always affected her greatly, she gets off to the memory of you begging all the time, so it's no surprise to her that her cock was painfully straining against her boxers.

"Whores that forgot how to speak don't get to cum!" Natasha spat, the underlying tone full of pain telling you she meant more than in this moment, your constant distancing hurt her.

"Natty," you tried to apologize, but she only grew angrier, her hand harshly gripped your face, and she hovered over you with a furious gaze, you hated to admit it but it sent a pang of arousal down to your already dripping cunt, "That's not my fucking name slut, try again."

"Daddy," you whimpered, and she softened momentarily as she leaned in to kiss your lips, "Better, but I no longer want to hear you, so lets shut that pretty brain of yours off," she pecked your lips once more before her lips trailed down your body in quick succession.

The sound of buzzing as she now faced your cunt left you with widened eyes, this new dynamic was throwing you off honestly. So used to a quick release this newfound joy of hers spurring from teasing you was alarming. You began to wonder if the loveless sex was better, but deep down you knew it wasn't, especially when she edged you so deliciously.

Natasha held the vibe just out of reach of your clit, a test of sorts that she wanted you to fail. "Daddy's gonna get a taste now detka," she murmured against the lush skin of your thighs as she moved to further mark her territory.

After minutes of torture, where she barely swiveled the egg over your bundle of nerves you finally caved and canted your hips up. Natasha bit harshly into your thigh, blaming you for moving as she moved to hover over your face, "There's a time and a place for your pleasure, and this isn't it, now stay still Y/N!"

"Sorry daddy," you sniffled wetly, drawing her back out of her lust driven haze, and the sight of you so broken was honestly picturesque, it brought a lopsided smirk to her plump lips.

Natasha usually moved only to please you, but in this moment, she wanted you desperate. So needy, hopelessly dependent upon her touch, this way you'll never look for anyone else again. Looking into your eyes now she saw that was already your truth, you were so lost in the pleasure that she was hardly giving, "It's okay detka, you know daddy will take care of you."

Natasha kissed you until you were breathless, then when you were reduced to a heaving mess she returned to your thighs, she placed a few soft kisses there before finally diving into you.

With the vibrator pressed firmly into your clit, and her tongue deep inside you it was all you could do to make a mess of her face, a scream of pleasure echoed off her walls, and Natasha pulled back with an accomplished smile. The sight of her as your slick was dripping down her chin made your body shiver, that unraveled coil started to retighten, and your hazy eyes slammed shut as you tried to calm down.

Natasha teasingly rutted her hips into yours, you could feel her straining against her boxers when she stilled, and you couldn't help but to squirm when she made no move to fuck you.

Natasha chuckled as she felt your desperation, she softly continued to push her sizable bulge down against your slit, the irritating fabric separating your sexes actually brought you a slice of pleasure when it grazed over your clit. It would never be enough though, your hips began to jerk up to meet hers, desperation fueling you, and Natasha could feel it wholly.

She truly loved teasing you, feeling the way your aromatic slick soaked through her boxers, it only became too much for her once you were whining pitifully in her ear, making her twitch without reprieve, so without much warning she jumped up, leaving you to cry at the loss of friction, but the protests died on your tongue when you saw her dick spring free, it was huge.

"Is that gonna fit?" you visibly gulped, wide eyes watching as the tip of her cock hit her abdomen as she slowly sauntered over to you with an obnoxiously hot smirk overtaking her face as she hovered over you, "I'll make it fit."

Her lips pressed to yours, instinctually yours parted, Natasha's tongue slid into your mouth as her tip pushed passed your entrance, and you latched onto her tongue as you moaned. A shiver ran down the redheads spine when your walls simultaneously squeezed her thick shaft making it near impossible for her to fill you up.

The way that your warmth enveloped her cock made her fearful that she'd bust without even thrusting as she bottomed out, "Fuck, you feel so good Y/N, you're taking me so well detka."

Her hand sought yours out for grounding, and when you felt her interlock her fingers with yours again your eyes fluttered open to see her deepened green pair staring back into yours. The eye contact was intense, and arousing, but incredibly hard to keep when you felt her begin to thrust slowly, and relatively deeply into you.

"Keep em open," Natasha panted, your eyes slowly fluttered back open, fighting against the insurmountable pleasure, "Wanna see you."

It was a struggle, but you somehow managed to keep your eyes partially open for the ferocious women pounding into you with strong hips. The brutal pace she set was building you up quick, you never knew how much you needed her until now, she felt too good, the way she stretched you out left you gasping, and with every thrust her bulbous tip drove you wild.

With her hand in yours, and eyes locked you were overwhelmed by a love you were truly convinced didn't exist. The one that pulsed inside you the closer she got to her release, the love she needed verbally reciprocated to finish, "Say it detka," Natasha whispered breathlessly just as she twitched inside of you, "Please..."

"I'm yours Nat," you dopily confirmed with an amused tone, the moment was however short lived as a scream was torn from your throat, your eyes rolled to the back of your head as she let go inside of you, hot spurts of white filled your womb to the brim, and your body trembled without reprieve. "I-I need you Y/N, please don't leave me again, I'll do better..."

"Nat," you managed to squeak out her name in between your pants, "If you don't run, I won't."

"I'll never run again detka," she pressed her lips to your cheek, then trailed them down until she was resting in the crook of your neck, "I promise, we'll learn how to love together."

"Oh, I know how to love," you teased with a deliberate clenching of your walls, "Shit Y/N."

You flipped your positions before she could even recover, harshly grinding down against her as you did, did the trick when you could feel the way her cock hardened once more.

"It's my turn to show you," you winked, and the redhead smirked, a long drawn out sigh leaving her lips as you began to grind down into her.

———

3,075 Words

❤️ Kaitlyn 😏

[jonathan-samuel-smith]

Lord Jon and Prince Damian is a funny combination because just imagine Clark never managed to conquer all earth because magic and magic user, Talia basically built a huge kingdom to protect her people from the Lords and also accepts some others who are fleeing.

Years past and Jon has always been curious about that place and laughs when he faces Talia's youngest soldiers. He falls in love deeply hard about that boy with green eyes, then Jon starts to try to seduce that cute and smol boy (and Damian hates him deeply)

Just imagine:

Jon: *throws a body at his door like a cat*

Damian: ... Some guys bring flowers

Jon: I'm not 'some guy'

And also

J: "i've killed for you. how many other people can say that?"

D: "... Multiple, actually"

Basically: Lord Jon's love language is being annoying

Took me a while to figure out how I'd write the Super Lords, but eventually I was inspired by another work. I might write a sequel to this but we'll see. Fic under the cut.

Jon was scrolling on his phone, looking to find people talking negatively about him or his father so he could send them death threats. He could probably find them easily and make good on those threats, but then he'd have to get up, and he was comfortable where he was. He was getting a little peckish though, so he might run through a couple if he got up to eat.

His dad came into the room looking flawless. “Jon.”

“Hey dad, can you get me something to eat?”

“What? No. Get it yourself, or better yet, ask Kelex.”

“I thought you took away my voice commands after I killed the wrong general last week.”

“Oh, right. Have the knowledge crystals not taught you how to hack yet?”

Jon groaned ”I hate the knowledge crystals dad, they take so much time. I don't see the point in them.”

“The point is they would teach you how to solve problems, like how to reinstate your voice commands in Kelex’s code. Now get up, I have something important for you to do.”

Jon got up and stretched. “Oh I'm way hungrier than I thought. Hold that thought, Dad.”

“Jona–” Kal started sternly as a gust of wind blew past him. He could hear Jon ferociously consuming junk food from the pantry in superspeed. When he was done, he ran back up to his dad.

“Hey Dad, I'm back. What's up?”

“What do you know about Talia Al Ghul?”

“Oh that's easy. She's like, your archnemesis. Her family's got really strong magic so she can kill us if she gets close enough. She controls the last stronghold of human resistance. She's older than you so she's, what, a million?” He grinned cheekily “Just kidding, Dad. You don't look a day over 500.” He laughed. “Kidding! You should see the look on your face.”

“Jon, I'm being serious here.”

“‘kay.”

“She's just crowned her heir, Prince Damian. He's your age.”

“Oh?”

“He's an even more powerful mage than his mother, and trained in martial arts. He is a serious threat, one that needs to be neutralized.”

“Ok, but how am I gonna do that? You said he's more powerful than his mom, and you can't kill her.”

“He takes his group of soldiers into the Himalayas every month to train privately. I want you to ambush them.”

“Kill them, right? How do you want them dead?”

“Doesn't matter.”

“Alright. I'll be right back.”

Kal grabbed his arm and dug his fingers in hard enough to bruise. “You could die today, Jon. Take this seriously. Run away if you need to. You're no good to me dead.”

Jon nodded. “Got it.”

Jon flew to the mountains and looked for them with his heat vision. He found them fighting each other and flew down and started snapping the neck of the closest person to him. Unfortunately, this was slow enough to draw alarm from the other assassins, who all knew magical attacks. Still, Jon was quick and he fought dirty, letting out a deafening shout and causing an avalanche. The teens fought him with martial arts married with magic, sacrificing their lives so that the final assassin could defeat Jon and place him in magical bindings.

He spat blood. “You're lucky they can be brought back to life, or I wouldn't have spared yours.”

“I didn't ask you to. But thank you– not for sparing my life, but for beating me. I've never lost before. It was exhilarating! Can you do it again?”

The boy looked at him strangely. “What?”

Jon grinned manically. “You're a great fighter. I want you to defeat me again. And again and again until I get bored. What's your name? I never even lose to my dad.”

“... I am prince Damian Al Ghul.”

“Oh no way! I came here to kill you! Well, I'm not doing that anymore.”

“Clearly not.” Damian said, gesturing to the chains around him.

“Oh no, not cuz of that. I meant cuz like–” Jon cut himself off as Damian took off his mask and piercing green eyes met his own. “Wow, you're really pretty. I've never seen anyone as pretty as you in my whole life. Definitely not prettier. I think I was saying something?”

Damian blushed. “Tt. You were saying why you're not going to kill me.”

“I think I'm in love with you.”

“What?!” Damian squeaked.

“That was so cute! You're so cute! You're so small you look like you'd fit just right in my arms!”

“Go back to the ‘I love you’ part because I'm not understanding!” He shouted.

“I'll say it as many times as you want! I love you, I love you, iloveyouiloveyouiloveyoui–”

“Stop! You can't love me, you just met me, and your dad is superman!”

“Um, I'm pretty sure I can. Love at first sight is a thing, and I've known you for longer than that already.”

“So what, just because you think I'm pretty and I beat you for the first time, you're in love with me?”

“Is that not enough? Ok well, I really like the color of your eyes, and you're really powerful, and you make me feel so many feelings I have never felt before! Fear, excitement, curiosity, admiration, respect, awe, happiness, arousal–”

“Stop talking.”

“Whatever you want, gorgeous.”

“That's talking.”

“Oh, right. Sorry.”

“Still talking.”

“I don't know how you want me to stop talking if you keep talking to me. Oh but uh, don't stop, I like it.”

Damian facepalmed. “I'm taking you back to my mother.”

“Oh I hope she doesn't decide to kill me after you went through the trouble of sparing me, that would be really embarrassing for you.”

Damian was quiet for a few minutes. “...You've never felt curious? Or excited, or afraid or happy? Really?”

Jon shrugged. “Maybe once. But nowadays I'm always either bored or bloodthirsty. Except right now, I'm neither. You're the most interesting person I've ever met and I just killed 5 people. That's like, 1 more than I usually do in a day.”

Damian set his jaw hard. “Why do you kill so many people?”

“Why do you think, assassin Prince? To feel alive.”

“...Who do you usually kill?”

“Dissidents and criminals. My dad's okay if they're dissidents or criminals. There's not, like, a ton of those out there anymore, though, so I've taken to scrolling back really far on Twitter. Oh, and jaywalkers.”

“Tt. Typical.”

“Who do you usually kill?”

“Political enemies, soldiers, criminals.”

“I guess everyone's a political enemy when they're aligned with us and not you. That's a lot more people you can kill. I kinda wanna join your side now.”

“We don't kill frivolously.”

“Why not?”

“Because we value human life.”

“Why?”

“What do you mean, why? Why does your father care about order if not to preserve human life?”

Jon laughed. “My dad doesn't care about humans! He just wanted to tidy things up. He gets mad when I kill other people because it messes with his system. It's one of those dumb parent rules, like keeping your socks in the sock drawer, or cleaning the fortress on Sundays even though we have robot servants.”

“... You're completely insane.”

“Do you want me not to be?”

Damian furrowed his brow. “Why are you asking me that?”

“I want you to get what you want! You deserve to get anything you want, way more than my dad does. I bet you could with your magic! Cast a spell on me, make me sane for you. If you want that, I want it.”

“It's Jonathan, isn't it?”

“Yeah, or you can call me Jon. Or you know, whatever you want. Even if it's mean, I can take it.”

“...Jonathan. I don't want to take your agency away with my magic. That wouldn't be right.”

Jon shrugged against his chains. “If you say so, my prince.” Damian was quiet for a while, and Jon slipped free of his chains to help Damian cart back all of the bodies. “You should let me carry this.”

“What– Jon?! How did you escape my bindings?”

“Magic interacts completely unpredictably with me.”

“I don't– why are you even still here?”

“Why would I leave? It's not as if there's anything more interesting on TV. Twitter says all the shows are boring cuz of Dad. Well, you know, the dead side of Twitter. God do you know how perfect you look? From every angle?”

“Jon, I think you should just leave.”

“Well, my dad is expecting me home soon. What do you think I should tell him about you not being dead?”

“... Is he going to hurt you if you go back?”

Jon shrugged. “If I let him. Which I probably will, so I don't get grounded. But I might be grounded anyway since this meant a lot to him. If I don't get grounded, can I see you again?”

“It's best if you don't.”

“I'm going to be honest, I don't like that answer. If you want me to stay away you'll have to use your magic to harm me.”

“Tt. Do you have a death wish?”

“No. My biggest wish is for you to spar with me and win.”

“What if I lose?”

“Then we'll go again until you win.”

“...Hm. You're very… persistent.”

Jon grinned. “Thanks. Wow, it feels really good when you compliment me. Do it again.”

“Um… you have really unique eyes?”

Jon beamed. “This is great, keep going!”

Damian blushed. “I'd rather not.”

Jon pouted. “Pleeeeaaase? I'll do anything.”

“Will you go home?”

“Fine, yes, after… 3 more compliments. Then I'll go home, for now.”

“Tt. Your curls look very nice, your hair makes a nice contrast against your skin tone and you– ah… you… that is, you're very strong.”

“I already knew that last one.”

“I meant muscular.”

“That's not a compliment, that's just a fact.”

Damian’s ears burned. “...I like it. I like that about you. I like that you're muscular. It looks… visually appealing.”

“Oh, I'm definitely in love with you. I'd love to stay and compliment you back, but I said I'd leave, and I want you to trust me! If you ever need me, or just want me, all you have to do is call. I'll come.”

Jon flew back home. “Dad? I ambushed him, caused an avalanche, and killed his squad, but he still beat me.” Jon called out.

Kal walked out to see his son. “You look unharmed. Why did he let you go?”

“Honestly? I think I annoyed him too much. But I'm going back tomorrow.”

“I see… an ambush didn't work, so you'll have to gain his trust and then betray him. I was going to punish you but your tenacity and cunning deserve a reward, so it is simpler to do nothing.

“Oh, yeah, psh, that's totally why I want to go back. I totally want to murder him in cold blood. I mean, you know how much I love murder.”

Kal frowned. “I do know. It gets in the way of your studies. However, this time I approve.”

“‘kay. Thanks. See ya.” He went back to his room to watch Damian with his X-ray vision.

The next day, Jon went to Nanda Parbat and watched Damian from the sky, waiting until he was alone to approach him.

Damian’s hair was slicked back with sweat and he was flushed and panting.

“Prince Damian. You look somehow even more incredible than last time.”

“Spare me the mockery.”

“What? I'm not mocking you. The way your skin flushes and glistens is as enchanting as any of your spells, my lord.”

“Hn. You know most humans find sweat repulsive?”

“I'm only half human. Also, you smell great. Musky. Can I lick you?”

“Definitely not.” Jon pouted. “Do you want something?”

“Yeah. Can we spar?”

“After lunch. Would you like to dine with me?”

“Can I? Won't the servants see me?”

“I cook for myself.”

Jon gasped. “I get to try your cooking?! Yes!” He pumped his fist in the air.

Damian chuckled good naturedly.

Jon leaned against the island as Damian cooked. “What did your dad say about you failing to kill me?”

“Oh I told him I was going back today and he thought I meant that I was going to gain your trust to kill you.” Damian stiffened. “So I'm going to let him think that so I can spend more time with you.”

“Try this.” Damian said, handing Jon a spoonful of sauce. Jon tasted it.

“Hm, that's pretty good! I've never had this before.”

Damian tasted it himself and nodded. “It is good.”

Jon ate at his usual impatient pace and spent the rest of the meal talking at Damian.

“Alright, Superboy, follow me.”

“Anywhere.”

“Tt.” Damian led him to the training courtyard. “Here we are. Remember to be quiet.”

Jon rushed to tackle Damian but he predicted it and dodged, casting a spell to slow down Jon’s movements. It was a lot stronger than the spell Damian intended to cast, and he moved like a sloth. “Wow prince…” he began as Damian took his time pinning Jon to the ground and immobilizing him with a spell. The first spell wore off quicker than expected. “...Damian you're so fast! Oh, it's already over!” Jon giggled. “You did even better this time! I suppose it's to be expected since it wasn't an ambush. You're really impressive…” Jon sighed dreamily, looking up into Damian’s eyes with a lovestruck gaze.

Damian coughed and looked away. “...You wanted me to beat you. Did you go easy on me?”

“I can honestly say that didn't even occur to me. I don't know why I would do that. Would it have made you happy?”

“Hell no. It would have made me angry.”

Jon smiled. “I'd like to see you angry. Maybe I will next time. Though I don't know if you'd even notice, considering how well you beat me this time.”

Damian looked confused. “Why would you want me to be angry?”

Jon raised a brow. “‘Cause I wanna see how you look when you're angry. I've never seen it before. I wonder if it would make me angry, too. I never get angry anymore.”

“You're… impossible.”

Jon grinned toothily. “Is that a good thing?”

“... I haven't decided.” Damian got off of Jon, much to the younger teen’s disappointment, and did a nullification spell on Jon before helping him up. Jon smirked and flipped Damian over his shoulder as he stood, but Damian landed on his feet and cast a sleeping spell on Jon. He woke him up with a water spell, sitting on his chest.

“You got me again! I love you.”

“You're weird.”

“Is that bad?”

“I haven't decided.”

Jon smiled, crinkling his eyes. “Wanna go again?”

Damian laughed. “Sure. I've not even worked up a sweat yet.”

The next time he came to Nanda Parbat he threw down a corpse in front of Damian, face still splattered in blood.

Damian sighed. “Most guys bring flowers.”

“I'm not ‘most guys’”

“Who was he?”

“He criticized your looks so I killed him for you.”

“Jon, I don't care what anyone says about me.”

Jon's eyes flashed red. “I care that he said that. Now he can't say anything like it ever again. What do you think of my technique?”

“Messy, but efficient.”

Jon smiled “Thank you. Do you want to spar?”

“Jon it's 11:38 at night.”

“... Is that a problem?”

“I was sleeping.”

“Oh. Can I join you?”

“Tt. No. Go home.”

Jon pouted. Damian held firm.

“Okay. I'll miss you.”

“Tt. You say such embarrassing things. Goodnight.”

Jon smiled, then quickly leaned in to kiss Damian’s cheek. “Good night, my love.”

Damian slammed the door in his face.

It became somewhat of a pattern for Jon to ambush Damian when he went out on missions, and Damian learned to expect it. Jon was getting faster at killing Damian’s compliment.

“I killed them, so we can be alone!” Jon said cheerfully, gently touching Damian’s cheeks with his bloody fingers and looking at him adoringly.

“Jon. Keep your hands to yourself before I cut them off.” He said, drawing his rune-encrusted sword slightly out of the scabbard.

Jon pouted but removed his hands. “As you wish, my lord. So, what are you out here for today?”

“I was planning on retrieving a magical relic from a temple to the east of here, until you showed up. You’re like a gnat.”

“I can get it for you!”

“Tt, I’m sure you can’t, there are magical booby traps.”

Jon pouted. “I want to do this for you. Please?”

“Jon, I am certain that if you were deathly injured my mother would not permit me to put your body in the lazarus pit.”

“Not even if I died saving your life?”

“Likely not. I shouldn't even be talking to you, you are the enemy.”

Jon grinned. “I guess we both like to do whatever we want.”

“It is human nature to desire freedom.”

“Well yeah but I'm not human.”

“You are as human as you are kryptonian. I wonder, did your father have the same disregard for your mother as with the rest of humanity?”

“I dunno. I was cloned from her dead body and my dad. I never saw them interact. But I know he loved her, and I know he misses her. He's told me it's the only reason he puts up with me.”

“It does not sound like you are very close.”

“We aren't. But he's the only other kryptonian other than Kara Zor-el so y'know, he's important. Not as important as you, of course, but he was previously the most important person in my life.”

“We're here. Don't follow me.”

Jon floated after him. “But I wanna keep you safe! Let me carry you.”

“No– Jon, put me down!”

Jon grinned and flew Damian in. “What's it look like? I can look through the walls for you.”

“Unneeded, I have a map.”

Jon swiped the map from him and read it. “I have a great sense of direction, don't worry.”

“You are infuriating.”

“We cause strong emotions in each other~ how lovely. Okay, hold tight.”

Jon flew quickly down the halls, before being knocked into the wall by a magical hammer. Damian rolled off of him as Jon groaned in pain. “You idiot. Where are we?”

Jon grunted and pointed to their location on the map.

“I can’t even cast a healing spell on you as I have no idea how it will effect you.”

“Don't worry… I have super healing… so the side that hit the wall will be fine. The wall isn't magic, right?”

Damian checked. “Luckily for you, it is regular stone.”

Jon grinned. “Help me up? I wanna help you finish this.”

“It's a bad idea. We need to get you out of here.”

Jon shook his head. “I'm not going. I'll be right behind you. You can handle the magic traps, and I can fly in front of an arrow for you or something.”

“And what if it's a magical arrow?”

“I'll die for you. Did I not mention that?”

“Tt. You're dangerous to have around. But if you're not leaving…” Damian got out a rope and tied them together by their waists with a length of rope in between them. “Stick close to me.”

Jon floated to his feet. “Mkay. Let's go!”

Damian sighed and pulled along a floating Jon. He disabled the traps as they went until they reached the chamber with the artifact. Damian picked it up and the room shook with a deep voice.

“To get out of trouble, face your double. Return the staff to the rack and it will end the attack.”

Smoke billowed out of the air vents and coalesced into shadow versions of Jon and Damian. Damian sighed and took out his katana.

Jon and Damian fought back to back as their shadow versions worked independently. Damian took out his double and Jon defeated his own. The smoke dissipated and Jon cheered.

“We did it! That was awesome! They didn’t stand a chance against our teamwork! Imagine if you came in here with your whole squad! That would have been so much chaos, I really did you a favor by killing them.”

Damian growled and pressed his sword to Jon’s throat, backing him up against the wall. “No. Killing.”

“Mhn, so it's fine if you kill me but not if I kill your squad, who as we've previously established can come back to life whereas I will not?”

“I will kill you if I have to.”

“I would expect nothing less, my prince.” Jon smiled slightly. “So this is what you look like when you're angry. I love the intensity in your eyes.”

Damian narrowed his eyes. “Are you really trying to de-escalate the situation by flirting?”

Jon shook his head as much as he could. “Just saying what I think, my lord. And I think you look beautiful.”

Damian sighed and withdrew his blade. “You're an idiot.”

Jon smiled cheerily and let Damian drag him along by the rope still attached to his waist. Damian escorted Jon back to the entrance of the temple and cut the rope. “You need to stop killing my team every time I leave the palace. It makes me look incompetent.”

“Do you get in trouble?”

“Not exactly, no–”

“Then it's fine!”

Damian pinched the bridge of his nose. “Listen to me carefully. I am telling you that I want you to stop killing my team. Did you not say that I deserve to get what I want?”

“You're turning my words against me! I just want to be with you. Your assassins would never allow it. If I don't defeat them, I'll die.” Jon whined.

“Then learn non-lethal techniques of taking people down. Practice on those criminals or whatever.”

“You want me to… not kill a criminal?”

“Yes.”

“I can try… can I still be violent?”

“I would appreciate it if you did not scar my team too badly. But outside of that, you can be as brutal as you like as long as they do not die.”

“Okay. I will practice not killing and come back to you. Farewell, my prince.”

“Farewell, lord Jonathan.” Damian said as Jon lifted off into the sky, the cut rope rippling in the wind with his cape.

Jon stormed through the palace towards Damian, knocking people out of the way like flies. “Prince Damian! I came back, as I said I would.”

“Yes, I can see that. Are you here to kill more of my people? You know I cannot allow that, Lord Jonathan.”

Jon cocked his head. “Why would I do that? I don’t care about humans.”

Damian quirked a brow. “I am human.”

“You’re better than everyone else, though.”

“Is that so?”

Jon giggled. “Yeah, I think you could even kill me if you tried. That’s so hot. Look at you, not attacking me right now… so romantic...” Jon sighed.

Damian tutted. “I’m beginning to regret that.”

Jon giggled. “Some days I think I love you so much I'd just let you. Would you like me to do that? Or would you want a fight?” He came closer.

“What kind of question is that?”

“A genuine one. Oh… If I tried to kill you, I hope you’d try to kill me too… maybe we could die at the same time. If I am going to die, I want it to be by your hand. And no one else deserves to take your life away but me, and only if you asked me to.” He giggled, twirling his hair. “I really like having you around, so you would have to convince me first, or else I wouldn’t even let you kill yourself.” Jon hummed. “But I don’t see you convincing me that this world is so terrible as to deserve to be ridden of such beauty.” He stroked Damian’s cheek with a gloved hand, and Damian smacked it away. Jon sighed. “I love you.”

“You don’t know what love means. Your father never showed you.”

“I don’t? Well then, you’ll have to teach me. No one else will do.”

Damian tutted, before sighing as if greatly put upon and offering his ring for Jon to kiss. He did so gladly, kneeling at his feet.

“My prince.” Jon held Damian’s hand by the wrist and turned it over so he could nuzzle into his palm. Damian allowed it. Jon locked his violet eyes on Damian’s emerald ones. He kissed his fingertips one by one.

“You are so devoted to me. It’s perplexing.”

Jon kissed his wrist. “It’s simple; the whole earth should bow to you. You are perfection. Every moment you spend with me is pure gold; my greatest treasures.Or maybe it is that I can take anything in the world that I want, except for you. You are the only thing I could ever rightfully earn. The only goal worth pursuing. Everything was meaningless and dull until I met you, my Prince.”

Damian cupped his cheek. “And what if you got me? What then? Do you truly believe that to be love?”

“I would work to keep you and to serve you, to make you happy.” He smiled. “To annoy you, to pester you, to laugh with you, to see you cry. To hold you. To learn everything there is to know about you until you’ve changed so much that I have to learn you all over again.” He sniffed Damian’s wrist, at the cologne there, and deeper at all the smells that made up Damian. “Intoxicating.” Jon puffed out a laugh. “I don’t know what love is supposed to be like. Have I got it wrong? Do you think it matters? I ask out of curiosity, ‘cause even if it were really something completely morally unacceptable to you, I wouldn't care. It feels better than anything ever has. It’s what I live for.”

Damian’s lips parted in surprise. He schooled his features to ask his next question. “How many people have you killed since I last saw you?”

“None.” Jon smiled. “I’m learning, see? I can do better. I must be of some use to you, haven’t I?”

Damian got a strange look in his eye just then, and Jon became excited at the prospect of learning that expression. “Get up.”

Jon wilted. “Have I offended you, my Prince?”

Damian shook his head. “Stand up. Don’t. Float.”

Jon bowed his head obediently and stood up. Damian stepped close and put his hand on Jon’s shoulder, pulling him down into a slow and gentle kiss. Jon did not know his heart could race so fast. Damian pulled away with an unreadable look in his eye. “Alright, Jon. I accept. I will teach you how to love.”

Jon beamed. “Oh, this is so much better than murder.” He whispered.

Damian smirked. “It is, isn’t it? A lot of things are.” Damian took his hand off of Jon’s shoulder and put both behind his own back.

“Could you excuse me for just one moment? I feel the urge to go fly.”

Damian nodded, and Jon flew off, laughing brightly like a child.

Jon returned a moment later. “I love you! It feels so triumphant!” Jon gasped. “Does this mean we are dating? Boyfriends?!”

“I can’t believe I’m saying this, but yes. My mother will not be pleased.”

“I can kill her for you, if you wan’t.”

Damian glared at him. “No. No Killing.”

Jon looked at him for a long time. “Okay… Okay. But if someone tries to kill you, I won’t spare them. Even if you get mad at me. Even if you don’t believe my explanation. Even if you can take care of yourself. I promise, I won’t let you die.”

Damian scowled. “Just…kiss me, you idiot.”

Jon flew to his side in an instant, but was much more apprehensive about actually kissing him, so Damian grabbed his head and dragged their mouths together. Jon purred and pulled him closer. Damian nibbled on Jon’s bottom lip and he gasped. “Damian!”

“Yes?”

“You’ve done this before! And I can’t kill whoever you did it with!”

“You don’t have worry, they are already dead.”

“Woah, do you kill people instead of breaking up with them?”

“Tt, no. They betrayed me. I made an example of them.”

“Wow, I can’t imagine killing you if you betrayed me.”

“Hm. I can’t say it was pleasant, but— we are supposed to be kissing right now, Jonathan.” He pulled him in for a few more smooches.

“Is this part of learning how to love?” Jon asked dazedly.

“No, this is for me. I’m just glad I found a way to shut you up.”

“Dami! That’s–” More kissing. “That’s mean. I love it when you’re mean to me.”

They had their arms wrapped around each other by now. Damian rubbed between Jon’s shoulder blades. “You really shouldn’t.”

“Nobody is ever mean to me but you! How could I not like it? I love when you give me attention.”

“To have everyone afraid of you, your whole life… Let’s change that, hm? You are terrifying in the way that you move, talk, smile, laugh, and behave… But we should be able to change at least two of those.”

“Am I so scary, even to you?”

“No, not to me. You’re even… cute.”

“Isn’t that a bad thing?”

Damian furrowed his brow. “No, why would it be?”

“My father always told me to stop acting so cute, that it was distracting.”

“Everything about you is distracting. You’re currently distracting me from my work. I didn’t think you cared.”

Jon smiled. “You’re right, I don’t. And like I said, you can be mean to me, as long as you don’t ignore me. Well, even if you tried to ignore me, I’d cover your eyes until you had to acknowledge me. Or… maybe I could bite you, like Krypto used to do when I was little and I’d ignore him. Hm… come to think of it, you did just say I was distracting, I’m sure there are lots of ways I could get your attention. I like being distracting.”

Damian arched a brow. “Surely you’ll allow me to get my work done.”

“Well, that’s not ignoring me ‘cause you’re mad! So it’s fine. I can just watch you.”

“Do you watch me when you leave?”

Jon nodded. “And I strain my ears to listen. I love the sound of your voice, my prince.”

“Oh Jonathan, your life cannot only be me. I want you to stay in the palace so I can show you other things you might find meaningful.”

“Like what?”

“Friendship, learning to cook, making art. Things that are worthwhile because of the struggle. I think you will enjoy pottery.”

“What's so interesting about making pots? Plenty of people can do that.”

“They can do it because they put in the work, and they are better than you at it. Don't you want to impress me with an excellent piece of pottery?”

“You would like it if I gave you something I made?”

“Jon, the only person who can make the art that you would make is you. If you do not make it, it will never be known. You can give me something no one else can.”

“Who cares? Everyone will say they love it so I don't singe their eyebrows off…”

Damian arched a brow. “I won't.”

Jon blushed and smiled at Damian. “That's right, you're not afraid to tell me what you think. You're my equal.”

“I may even decide to encourage you with kisses.”

Jon rumbled a purr. “I love you. I'm going to make you the best pot ever.”

Damian kissed him again. “Good. I eagerly await it.”

[maritessa]

I wanted to make a "Would you love me if I was a worm" series for Twst but I got lazy so I'll just post the dialogue. If artists wanna try to draw this, go ahead but please tag me cause I wanna see.

Ships included:

MalleKei (Malleus x Cater)

SilKali (Silver x Kalim)

IdiAzu (Idia x Azul)

JamiFloi (Jamil x Floyd)

AceRid (Ace x Riddle)

Apple Juice (Epel x Deuce)

LeoJami (Leona x Jamil)

Lilia x Trein (help me give them a ship name)

Mallekei

Cater : Would you love me if I was a worm

Malleus: ??? I can just turn you back —

Cater: No, no no! It's about the principle! SO WOULD YOU LOVE ME???

Malleus: ... Sure???

SilKali

Silver: Apparently, Cater asked Lord Malleus about becoming a worm the other day

Silver: Is it a phenomenon that's been happening as of late?

Kalim: *got pulled by Scarabia students*

Students: Housewarden! We need some advice!

Silver: We have to be careful, Kalim *turns around and Kalim is gone*

Silver: Kalim? *Looks on the ground and sees a worm*

Silver: KALIM?! how could this happen

*Picks up worm and puts him in his handkerchief*

Silver: For now, let's make sure you don't get stepped on

Silver: I'll help you get back to your usual self, Kalim! Even if you're a worm, you're my precious friend!

*Kalim in the background*: I'm glad everything's sorted out then!

Silver: Yes, I'm glad I can still understand you even though you're a worm, Kalim....

Kalim: Eh? I'm right here tho?

Silver: Huh?

Kalim: Is your pet worm named Kalim?

Silver: No, actually— well, I'm glad you're safe.

Board game club

Azul: During the Housewarden meeting, Malleus and Kalim were talking about worms for some reason.

Idia: Yeah, it's a meme dude

Azul: Meme?

Idia: Ye, like you ask your significant other *ahem*

Idia: "Would you still love me even if I was a worm?"

Azul: No, I would not. First of all, when we agreed to this relationship, I agreed to it under the premise that we are both intellectual beings who are capable of doing things on their own. Secondly, I'd like to point out that being a worm would mean that you would have a completely different lifestyle, trait, quality of life —

Idia: .... I wasn't genuinely asking, bro. Why are you so serious about this lol

Azul: Shut up!

Basketball Club

Floyd: Jamil!!!!!

Jamil: ?

Floyd: Look at me I'm a worm!

*Does the worm dance move*

Jamil: Yeah, cool. (Why is he talking to me?)

Floyd: Do you love me now?

Jamil: Huh?

Ace: Lolol you're getting it wrong

AceRid

Ace: Housewarden! I finished feeding the flamingos

Riddle: Thank you, Ace.

Ace doesn't leave

Riddle: Is there anything else?

Ace: Hey, Housewarden. If I become a worm, would you still look out for me?

Riddle: Of course.

Riddle: However, you must be underestimating me. As queen, I'd protect you so you won't become a worm in the first place.

Ace: Y-yes, of course. I'm sorry for even considering it.

Apple Juice:

Epel: I got some apples from my hometown, Deuce.

Deuce: Thanks Epel.

Epel: Don't worry, I washed the apples so there won't be any worms.

Deuce: Worms have the luxury of always eating these apples, huh... I wish I was a worm

Epel: Pffft, I'll have to bring you more apples then

LeoJami

Jamil: (what's up with everyone and worms lately)

Leona: ... *Staring at Jamil*

Jamil: ... (why's he staring at me)

Leona: *pushes the vegetables on his plate away from him*

*Vegetables land on Jamil's side*

Jamil: (Why is he giving me vegetables?)

Jamil: I won't turn into a worm so no need for these!

Leona: Huh? What are you talking about

Jamil: (So it wasn't that after all)

Lilia Trein

Trein: it seems like the children are all talking about this "worm" phenomenon

Lilia: Yes, yes. Even my boys seemed excited over it

Trein: I wonder what the whole fuss is about. It's impossible for someone to just become a worm.

Lilia: Well, well. We aren't sure about that now, are we Trein?

Trein: ? Huh

Lilia: I'm just saying you never know what could happen *shrug*

Trein: ....

Lilia: I'll still come visit you like this even if you become a worm though *disappears*

[ph4ngz]

I’m so obsessed with your lust quirk fics they’re so good 😮‍💨 could you do one w todoroki?

It's purring. (This came straight out of my pussy I won't even sugarcoat it, literally one of the horniest experiences of my life)

Lust quirk w/ Shoto!

↑ Contains; ProHero!Shoto x fem!reader, aphrodisiac themes, begging, choking (hardly), no condom, no prep, reader is a terrible neighbour, shamelessly desperate Shoto :D

4.5k+

/-/-/-/

An oddly patterned series of knocks upon your apartment's front door disturbs you from your nightly routine and you sigh, irritated due to the timing, the fact that you were halfway through changing into your sleepwear, and finally due to the fact that you'd just made sure every light was out only to now turn them back on again.

"Oh, what the hell..."

There's no way you can answer the door right now! You look down at your bare legs. Hell no, even if you weren't clad in only panties and a shirt, you still didn't have any makeup on. Before you can shrug it off and continue changing, pretend you're not home and snuggle up in your fresh sheets, another string of knocks sound. Somehow, they seem a little more desperate than before?

"Ugh, hold on, jeez." you complain to yourself whilst flinging your pyjama bottoms to the floor agitatedly, then push your oversized T-shirt down to cover your exposed lower half and expertly navigate your way through the dark, too stubborn to flick any switches and help yourself. Hopefully this is just a package being delivered?

The moment you unlock and pull back the door, concern draws itself upon your features.

"Todoroki?"

The slumped figure before you, partially blocking the yellowish lighting from out in the hallway, straightens almost immediately at the sound of his name being called as if he hadn't knocked in the first place, eyes shaded by a hooded, lustful gaze directed your way. Something's wrong, obviously. Your friend and coworker is usually so calm and composed.

Your worried stare slowly travels downward and holy shit he’s unbuttoning his shirt. You can see his abs. His defined, beautiful abs. The ones that prove the strength he worked so hard to obtain during his hero training. Wait, he’s not injured is he…?

"A-Are you hurt?" You blurt out, training your eyes anywhere else but his body. Man, this feels illegal.

Is he HURT? Why would he come to you and not the hospital anyway!?

"Y/n-" the hero begins, pausing once he clocks your current attire. Todoroki's eyebrows bow all of a sudden and he practically collapses against the door frame, an arm coming up to shield his forehead as his cheeks puff out with a long, uncontrolled exhale.

Your mouth opens, but you doubt you'd be able to correctly respond to the second bout of hurried words currently falling from his own, so you keep it closed tightly.

"Oh, you look so fucking hot okay—" He breathes out, closing his bicolour eyes. The unexpected statement, although a dizzying compliment to yourself, seems as though it's a problem for him. You don’t miss the way his other hand starts to wave his shirt back and forth from his chest, using it as a makeshift fan.

Also, you'd been ready for bed not even five minutes ago, bare faced and tired as all hell, in what world would your appearance be considered as 'hot'!? Alright, this is seriously confusing. And you're stood here in your underwear! ... In front of... Hah, oh.

Blushing harder than a drunken man, you take it upon yourself to grab a flustered Todoroki's wrist and drag him into your dark apartment, shutting the front door so that the both of your forms are visible in the moonlight filtering through a large window only, it's pearly glow illuminating each and every one of your features.

Of course, he didn't let that happen without a "fuck, don't- don't grab me like that I-", but that doesn't mean anything serious, right?

Whipping your head around to face the poor guy, you raise your voice a little as you ask: "Okay, calm down. Stop stuttering for a sec, can you take your time and tell me what's wrong?"

Only a frustrated groan can be heard in return.

Then, out of nowhere, his mouth is forced onto your own and the mix between a pleased moan and a confused yelp that escapes you is something to be embarrassed about. Your face feels as if it's melting, the way his tall frame bends to reach you slightly and his newfound grip on your waist overheating you. You don't have time to decide whether or not you should kiss back as Todoroki soon separates himself and cuts your next hurried words off.

"Should we be doing thi—"

"I need you, I need you, it's so,"

His pleading stops to then continue into the crook of your neck, which you definitely did not give him access to. The tingling sensation his heavy hands leave behind as they're rubbing up and down over your hips sends you to heaven and back.

"So frustrating... I know we're friends and I really hate myself for ruining us, I swear, I'll never speak to you again Y/n, just please touch me. Anywhere you want." Todoroki's hushed, whiney voice alone is enough to make you moan, in fact it does. The hero's thick fingers slide beneath the handles of your panties, rolling them down on both sides with the movement for easy removal if you let him.

"You're moaning now oh fuck, nngh, I can't take this much longer. It hurts."

The words vibrate over your neck and he soon begins to leave openmouthed kisses on the heated skin, breathing heavier than ever. God, it feels so good to hear him beg for you, to experience everything you've ever wanted. But should you be feeling this right now? You've heard rumours of a certain "Lust Villain" around your agency enough times, and there's no denying their existence after what's just happened.

You begin to interrogate the derailed hero, removing him from you when you speak.

“Have you fought any villains today?”

Your fingers are suddenly in Todoroki’s two-tone hair, making it messier than it was before. He hums a low mmph and tries his best to give you an answer.

“I was- I have. They shot me with something,”

You can’t imagine how surprised you look as his eager hands find your asscheeks, ashamed of the slutty moans that flow straight from your chest.

“You said, hah, that you were in pain yeah?”

He squeezes, harshly. Gritting your teeth in order to control your voice, you force yourself to focus on his instead. It’s not until the texture of his jeans and the cold metal zip tickles your palm do you notice that he hasn’t spoken until now.

Holy shit, when did he take your hand?

“Right here, you can feel how hard I am, right?” Todoroki presses his forehead to yours, his body heat immediately making itself apparent on your skin.

He’s pushing your hand harder against his crotch, eyes closed whilst his other free hand is still cupping the soft flesh right underneath your ass. You can make out the distinct outline of his cock even through the thick denim covering, restricting it.

It’s instant relief when you dare to give an experimental rub with the heel of your palm, and the hero makes it very clear.

“Ah~” He whines deeply, feeling every drop of precum soak and stain his underwear.

The debauched sound causes your walls to clench straight away, and you give not even a second thought about helping him out. Wow, your resolve totally just threw itself out of the window.

Todoroki lets you drag him by the arm once again, this time with your bedroom in mind, although he doesn’t wait to cage your smaller form between himself and the kitchen counter. His hips are already nudging into your ass before you know it, and all you can do is lean forward over the solid marble and hide your flushed face. Then, he snakes his muscular arms around your waist, holding you closer with every thrust.

This is getting you so wet, pussy slicked up by your arousal and it hasn’t even been touched yet. His restrained dick is rock hard against you, twitching and jolting under his clothes.

The heat of your cheeks must be making your eyes water, because it’s getting increasingly difficult to see through the gaps of your fingers each time he occasionally grabs your hips to slam them back into his.

“Shiiiiit,”

Your glossy eyes widen a fraction at the aggressive growl emitting from behind you. He’s trying to hold back, you can tell.

Soft ah’s and oh’s disrupt the midnight silence, both of you unable to contain them. Until—

“Ohhhhh God… M' so sorry, I can’t wait any longer, you’re on the pill right?”

You respond with a cute, pathetic sniffle and a nod, still covering your face. The curve of your back arching even more once he stops moving, the lack of friction making you feel empty.

Without a single word, Todoroki swiftly tugs your panties down halfway and you cross your arms over the counter to nestle your head even lower. It’s awfully silent other than his laboured breathing and the jingle of his belt being unbuckled. The suspense is fucking killing you.

Faster and faster, he’s fucking his large hand to his current view: you, legs shaking and back arched, covered tits smushed into the cold marble. His brainwashed mind travels from ‘how far can her legs spread’ to ‘sliding along the counter must’ve been making her nipples so hard’. A slight glint of moonlight reflecting off of your leaking cunt catches his attention.

“Uhhhhh…” Drawing out his delicious moan caused by the sight, his upper body almost collapses atop of yours, but luckily he catches himself on the counter.

You jump when his middle finger unexpectedly parts your lower lips by dragging a quick line between them, halfheartedly checking in case you’re not lubricated enough as if you aren’t already drenched. Your clit pulses due to the fleeting stimulation, your little hole practically dripping and his quivering mouth opens with a silent moan.

“How- How are you this wet?” Todoroki’s in disbelief as he studies the thick coating of your slick around his finger, but seemingly insatiable desire quickly overpowers it.

The desperate hero sucks off every trace of your juices and doesn’t even bother to engage in further foreplay, he wouldn’t be able to cope much longer. He knows he probably should’ve gone about this in a way that’s more comfortable for you, but thinking straight is something completely foreign in this moment. Anyways, he knows you’re wetter than ever for his twitching cock. You’ll take him just fine. Right?

With serious haste, Todoroki forces his aching cock past your pussy lips and the sudden sensation paralyses you. Shock, pain and ultimate pleasure contort your facial features in ways that you’ve never seen, nor anybody else until now.

“Sh-Shoto—” you muffle loudly into the back of your forearm, inwardly panicking about your legs not being able to stay up for much longer. Todoroki’s hand frantically searches for your neck whilst he continues to push his throbbing dick inside of you. And when he finally can grab ahold of your throat, he lifts up your head to cover your mouth with his other hand.

From beside your head, he’s observing the debauched expressions that play out on your cute little face, tempting him to fuck you senseless like he currently has a choice. His palms are oddly completely different temperatures against your damp skin, definitely a side effect of his quirk. The hold around your neck is colder but isn’t uncomfortable at all, you find that the lack of air reaching your lungs is numbing the pain rippling from your core.

“So, tight, o-oh my god,” the hero groans between rapid breaths, pausing his sentence whenever your warm pussy squeezes around his pink tip too much. The further he manages to reach within your fucking guts with his long cock, the more frequent and harder his tiny thrusts are getting.

The tearing pain is starting to subside for now, your walls finally getting acquainted with his size. That is until his length enters areas totally unknown to even yourself. Your watery eyes clench shut immediately. Todoroki releases your throat as a would-be strained, guttural moan simultaneously rips from your chest, the lack of restriction from his grip causing the noise to increase in volume and heartiness.

“nnnnNGHAH!” The echoing sound is hardly muted by his palm, even when he tightens it against your plump lips halfway through. He may be completely under the influence of a lust quirk, but that doesn’t mean Todoroki’s forgotten what time of night it is. Nor about the group of people he can hear in the next apartment over.

Suddenly, he’s completely stilled behind your weak, shivering form. It takes a few seconds for you to notice that he’s stilled your body too. His previous grasp on your neck seems to have situated itself within your tangled hair, big clenched fist having yanked on a handful to steady your movements. Typical late night city ambiance and laboured, heavy inhales and exhales through your noses are the only things audible to you.

You feel the hard throbbing and twitching of his dick everywhere in your lower half during this bout of silence, the heavy pressure of it leaning into your clenching walls almost unbearable. The way he’s keeping his hips pressed to your bare asscheeks with so much strength. And how his chin is nearly resting on your shoulder, shaky fingers gripping the furthest edge of the counter just proving his intimidating size. You need him to move. Surely he must be dying to, no? He said it was painful… so why isn’t he movi-

Your feeble attempts to wiggle around within the cage of Todoroki’s muscular arms instantly make every inch of his body coil impossibly tight around your own.

“Stop, gah! moving... Listen.” his usually soft, calming voice is rough and breathy next to your heated ear. A demand.

Trying your hardest to focus, you open your tired eyes and almost zone out whilst your ears are searching for whatever he wants them to hear. There’s nothing?! You’re about to speak up, about to beg him furiously just to fucking moveeeee when you finally catch on.

Only faint, yet still noticeable if you aren’t miles away in La La Fuck Me Land. Excited teenage chatter… clinking glass bottles and… oh great. Your new neighbour. You’d previously ran into her a few times on your way home, a quick wave and a smile and whatnot. Both of you were on good terms, but the thought of being known as that type of neighbour is scaring you. What if her friends already heard your embarrassing sex noises— what if they’re all laughing at you right now, not just some random joke or celebratory cheers?

“Tch- Tchodoroki, thatsh my new neighbour.” His hold on your mouth is so strong now that your words are close to being a string of incomprehensible hums.

“Look, I wanna move so, fucking, badly. It’s literally killing me to be inside you like this, when—”

You furrow your brows in confusion when the hero pauses out of nowhere, but they soon bow pathetically once you realise his prominent abs are tensing up against your back. Your heart flutters as Todoroki hurries to rid of his pesky shirt and throws it to the tiled floor. He then practically tries to rip your own shirt off before it reaches your head, urging to grant it the same fate strewn across the floor.

The tiny movements of his cock are gonna drive you nuts, you think.

“When I can feel you dripping down my thighs and you’re making me feel so fucking hot, I, just… If I move, Y/n, you’ve gotta promise me you’ll be quiet. I can’t risk being seen exiting your home after so much noise, promise me.”

Anything.

“Promisch.”

That’s all the hero needs you to say before driving his pelvis to thump against your asscheeks, his leaking cock hardly leaving your cunt just to be rammed back inside. You manage to suck in a panicked gasp through Todoroki’s thick fingers. He’s barely started and he’s already reaching places nobody else ever has. Just how big is he?

You’re almost embarrassed by the saliva that escapes your lips and wets his palm, but if anything, he’s fucking loving it. It’s only an incentive to fuck you so much faster, harder than before, just to keep you drooling for his dick like a thirsty slut.

The pace of his thrusts increases as well as the ear ringing slapping they bring with them. You can hear everything, everything him. Only Todoroki. Every obscene squelch coming from between your legs, every ragged, shaky breath he breathes, every word that just comes tumbling out of his mouth without warning.

“Ah, you’re so slutty for me— Mmmm, god I love it so much.”

For a second there you might’ve forgotten who’s cock you’re being pounded by if you didn’t have his voice memorised. You’ve never once heard the man say such dirty words, but damn if it isn’t the best thing you’ve ever listened to.

He’s practically jackhammering into your sloppy pussy now, set on achieving only one goal: to cum. He’s been trying to keep his aching pain on a low for too long, he needs to reach his high or else he might go insane.

If Todoroki wasn’t under the influence, you’d definitely have something to say about the lack of stimulation he’s providing you. But even then, with the way he’s repeatedly bullying your cervix to no avail, you’d hardly be able to form the right words to say. It’s something about the way he’s desperately pulling on the counter with all his strength just to fuck into you, you can’t think straight enough to worry about it chipping beneath his grip.

“Lower, lower,” the hero orders and bites the shell of your ear, and you’re trying to string a coherent sentence in your foggy mind to ask him what he means before the hand tangled in your hair manoeuvres your head so that your fucked out face is smushed into the cold marble. Your back arches as far as it can, making Todoroki comb a clammy hand through his usually neat fringe whilst forcing your back down with his elbow.

Somehow, this position allows his length to brush up and down the perfect spot inside, and you don’t think you can hold another noise in with the euphoric, tingling sensation crawling all the way along your spine.

Well, that “promisch” didn’t take much to break, did it?

“Fu-u-uck!” The sudden change of volume in the room startles him and even yourself, you had no idea that you could be so vocal. You gain the courage to make worried, guilty eye contact with the hero. Let’s just say, you can’t regret your choice.

Looking at him with his back straightened, alarmed and wide eyed like a deer in headlights, fluffy two-tone locks astray and messy, a sheen of sweat glazing his forehead and threatening to drip… pastel irises almost swallowed by his dilated pupils. Pretty… so fucking pretty. The sight alone causes your already constricting walls to clench even harder around Todoroki’s jolting cock, and he wonders how the fuck you haven’t pushed all of him out yet. He can’t move with your pussy gripping him like this, but it doesn’t seem like he has to try when you say:

“Todoro-ki, I wanna cum too, p-please don’t,”

You take a deep breath of air like his dick had been taking it away from you all the is time and continue.

“Tease me… like this…”

The newer tears forming in your eyes, paired with the words you say don’t give the man any time to gather self restraint, as he’s already began to cum.

His seed paints your insides icy white, the temperature of it driving you crazy. The expression he’s wearing whilst his hot cum fills you up is something you’ll never forget. Eyebrows dipping, nose slightly scrunched, eyes clamped shut and gorgeous lips trying and failing to conceal the moan behind them.

“Nngh~haha—” a breathless, overwhelmed laugh follows the unholy sound, the intensity of his orgasm being anything but funny.

You can’t see it, but you can feel all of it. There is already so much of him coating your sensitive core. You swear it’s starting to trickle down your thigh more and more each time Todoroki's hips continue to make contact with your lower half. Warm cum being pushed in and out of your tight hole, some of it being splattered upon your kitchen tiles by the strength of his thrusts. Even with hardly any room given between you both he's still managing to fuck into you so hard, with so much power. Hunger and desire.

His legs are trembling, as are yours. You can't imagine how exhausted he must feel after enduring the symptoms of that quirk he fell victim to, draining the last of his energy to chase the insane discomfort away. You almost forgot about his situation purely because he's making you feel so damn good. You know he's using your body as an outlet, you would be a fool for thinking there's more to these circumstances than there actually is.

“Nngh, you...okay?” you ask sweetly, trying to whisper, and Todoroki dons an adoring, appreciative smirk at your attempt to look out for him even whilst being fucked stupid.

Oh, he's fine.

If he's being completely honest he doesn't know whether or not he should be thankful for today's events or if he should be pissed off fucking rotten.

“Yeah, yeah.” He sighs with his tiny smile morphing into a pleasured grimace, still slightly amused by your concern despite his current state.

Of course he's okay, you could say he's having the time of his life right now. The hero may be under the control of an aphrodisiac of some sort, and he may not be able to think straight, but he's got one thing down for sure: He wanted this— you, sober or otherwise.

You'd clearly been on his brain the moment he got attacked, and maybe the moment before that one, and the moment before that moment, even. But that doesn't mean it was that quirk urging him to fuck you, oh no. Todoroki had that part planned way before, all this is just a minor adjustment to his schedule.

“Shhhhhoto, you're so lou.......”

Are you talking to him? Anyways—

Yes, that orgasm was the most intense 15 seconds he's ever experienced, but he feels guilty for it. What if you think he's using you? Actually, that's true, but USING using you? This is what's pissing him off. He could've been jackhammering you, stone cold sober right now without a worry. You would know that he's serious about you.

But then again, he could've just gone back to his place and fucked his fist until the effects wore off. Yet he's here, fucking you to no avail. God, he wants to see how your perfect face looks when you cum so hard on his dick. Needs to rough you up and make you want him 24/7. He must. Now.

Todoroki, line of vision lowering in a lusty, irritated daze, is dragged under by a series of utterly euphoric waves as soon as his trance is shattered by the sight of your little cunt barely able to take the entirety of his fat cock even with him pressed so hard against your quivering body.

The view is making him so weak, so grateful for you. Letting his head hang for a few seconds, he forces his eyes shut in case he rushes to earn another orgasm again. He won't let himself cum unless it's with you. The pain is nothing more than a challenge to him, just a means to see how long he can last until he can't take anymore—

“Fuck! Ple-hease, please!” you're literally sobbing now, too tired to face the hero.

Shit! Why're you being so loud!?

...It seems that you're not the only one who's suddenly increased the volume, either.

“Grr! Mmph, oh my fucking god,” Todoroki has been getting louder this entire time, had you tried to tell him just then? His own growling and groaning through gritted teeth is causing his ears to ring after zoning out for so long.

Honestly, fuck the neighbours, either of you could give less of a shit at this point, you're too lost in the feeling.

On impulse, he snakes an unsteady hand around your hips to immediately rub soft, weak circles on your puffy clit. His fingers are burning hot to the touch which is only increasing the sensitivity of the bud. Not to mention the perfect amount of pressure he's rubbing you with just increases the pleasure tenfold.

The tears rolling down your face and gathering on the marble beneath eventually soak into your hair, but you can't control yourself with him pounding your poor pussy this fast and—

“HUH! Shit, shit, shit!”

You bite down the urge to scream in pleasure when Todoroki quickly leans over to busy his other hand with one of your tits, rolling and flicking your nipple, simultaneously keeping you steady by forcefully pulling your body flat against his broad, sticky chest.

Yeah that’s right, atta girl, he thinks to himself.

Now that he's stimulating two of the most vulnerable parts of you, you begin to lose it. You're pleading, begging the man to “keep going, keep going, don't stop!”, and you're convinced that if he does stop, takes away your detrimental release, you might even die.

“Cum with me,” the feral hero demands with that irresistible voice into the crook of your lolling neck, “cum with me, baby.”

Jesus, fuck! This is so intense! So close, so close, so close-

!!

“Cumming—!”

All you can manage is a tiny, strained pathetic cry before crashing down in his hold, shivering body nearly paralysed with overstimulation as you squirt, helplessly tensing up with Todoroki's fingers still toying with you.

He’s rubbing you through your orgasm just as his own hits him like a brick.

“Hmph, hmph, huh, Y/n!”

The man can hardly fucking breathe as the high courses through his veins, and he has to squeeze you hard due to the sheer amount of pleasure from watching you squirt all over his fingers, and relief from that damn aching pain swiftly fading away.

.

.

.

“…I wanna take you out for dinner tomorrow.” (Sober.)

“No, no it’s okay Shoto. You.. you don’t have to make it up to me.”

“Make it up to you? It’s not like I was using you, I could’ve chosen anybody else. Notice how I’m not apologising for that specifically.”

“Do you really mean that?”

You’re even more shocked to the core to see a few tears sliding down Todoroki’s cheeks when you crane your head around in disbelief.

“Um! Are you okay, still?”

The serious grasp on your torso lightens, and you can feel a messy head of hair pressed into the side of your face. He grins and blesses you with an uncharacteristic wheezy chuckle, absolutely fucked out for the night.

Neither of you have to say a word after that as you help each other clean up, even though you’re both desperate to get the hell into bed and pass out.

A comfortable, happy silence.

/-/-/-/

“I’ll pick you up at five, that sound good?” Todoroki says as he’s on his way out of your apartment.

You shout excitedly from the bathroom, soaking in the bubble bath he so adorably prepared for you before you woke up, “Yup!”

Your agreement paints yet another relieved smile on the hero’s face whilst he end the conversation with an “alright”. He feels like a total loser grinning like this, he admits to himself, making sure your front door is shut properly before spinning on his heel.

Oh, but that smile doesn’t linger for too long.

He’s met with your next door neighbour, face to face. She’s holding her keys, in the position she was in before she spotted his recognisable face, about to unlock her door to put down her grocery bags.

Todoroki’s expressions falls instantly, morphing into a terrified grimace.

“I will literally pay you—”

“I won’t say a word, take my details if you don’t believe me.” She offers him a soft, trustworthy look.

‘Phew’ may as well have been written on the man’s forehead. But wait!

“Don’t… Don’t say anything to her, okay?” He gestures to your door, knowing full well that you’re at peace with the situation after forgetting about your audience, relaxed in your little bubble bath without a worry in the world.

“Understood.” She nods politely.

“Have a nice day.”

/-/-/-/

[tinytinyblogs]

A kiss from you would be nice

They successfully achieved their goal of receiving a kiss from you.

(Atz reaction, non-idol)

Hyung line Maknae line

Ateez masterlist here

Your insights and reactions make these posts come alive. Love reblogs, comments, and all the good vibes welcome ✨

San

The cafe buzzed with the comforting rhythm of friends catching up, laughter blending with the clinking of coffee mugs. But for San, the melody had gone jarringly off-key. His eyes, normally as warm as melted chocolate, had narrowed to laser focus, locked on you and your friend. Each overly friendly touch, each burst of shared laughter felt like a tiny pebble chipping away at a dam of unspoken emotions within him. It was an itch he couldn't scratch, an unease that gnawed at the edges of his consciousness. He recognized it only too well – the harbinger of a storm brewing inside him, a storm named 'you.' He couldn't just sit there, a silent witness to the scene unfolding before him. The dam was about to burst. With a determined glint in his eyes, San rose from his seat, his steps echoing a quiet resolve. He walked towards you, hand outstretched, fingers tingling with anticipation. You turned, surprised by his abrupt move, the question "San, what's wrong?" already forming on your lips. It was the same question echoing in his mind, a mantra he couldn't escape. Reaching you, he gently captured your hand, fingers brushing your skin, sending a jolt of electricity through both of you. He pulled you, ever so slightly, away from the conversation, guiding you like a precious artifact towards a quieter corner of the cafe. You followed, his touch a silent tether drawing you in, your own heart mirroring the frantic rhythm of his. Stopping under the soft glow of a hanging lamp, he turned to face you, his hand still holding yours, a connection that crackled with unspoken intensity.

The world seemed to shrink, the background noise fading into a distant hum. His gaze, usually playful and carefree, was now serious, searching your eyes for answers he couldn't find within himself. "That's what I'm trying to figure out too," he confessed, his voice a low rumble that sent shivers down your spine. He paused, searching for the right words, for a way to articulate the tangled mess of emotions swirling within him. The confusion was evident in his eyes, a storm on the horizon reflected in their depths. The silence stretched after his confession, pregnant with unspoken emotions and the echo of your surprised question. His confusion mirrored yours, a storm swirling in the depths of his eyes. Then, with a deep breath, he took a step closer, the space between you crackling with newfound urgency. His hand reached up, fingers brushing against your jawline, a hesitant caress that sent shivers down your spine. You held your breath, the world narrowing to the warmth of his palm and the intensity of his gaze. Slowly, as if testing the waters, he tilted your chin up, pulling you closer. Then, before you could fully comprehend, his lips met yours. It was a kiss unlike any other you'd known, tentative at first, a whisper against your skin, then deepening into a consuming fire. You were both caught off guard, frozen in place as the dam of unspoken desires finally burst. He pulled away after a breath, a dazed expression replacing the confusion that had clouded his eyes. It was a look of revelation, a sudden understanding that seemed to dawn on him with the force of a lightning strike.

"Right," he breathed, his voice rough with emotion. "I know why it's always felt weird when you're around." His words, softly spoken, hung heavy in the air, their meaning sinking in like a stone dropped into a still pond. "It's because I want you," he confessed, his finger trailing a delicate path down your flushed cheek. "Not just the way everyone else seems to. I want you for myself, completely and utterly." The heat of his touch lingered on your skin, his addicting cologne filling your senses. His heartbeat, amplified by the closeness, sounded like a thunderous drum against your ear, mirroring the frantic rhythm of your own. In that single, stolen moment, the confusion melted away, replaced by a breathtaking clarity. You'd always wondered why his presence sparked something within you, why his gaze lingered a touch too long, why every shared laugh tasted like forbidden fruit. Then, his hand cupped your cheek, drawing you closer until your forehead rested against his chest. His heartbeat, a frantic drum against your ear, mirrored the tremor in your own soul. "I hate it," he murmured, his voice a rough caress against your skin. The warmth of his breath tickled your ear as he pulled you even tighter, burying your face in the depths of his embrace. You could taste the salt of his skin, the faint tang of desperation. "I hate the way you laugh with someone else," he growled, his words punctuated by the rapid thud of his heart. "The way your smile blossoms for another guy, it feels like a shard in my gut." His voice, raw and aching, sent shivers down your spine. "I want you to be mine," he confessed, his breath hot against your cheek.

Mingi

The air felt electric, a current crackle running between you and Mingi like an unresolved melody. The world blurred around you, sunny streets and bustling crowds fading into a haze as his presence filled your senses. His gaze lingered on you longer than expected, his touch lingering a moment too long on your arm, igniting sparks that dance just below the surface. This ambiguity had become your dance, a frustratingly beautiful waltz around unconfessed feelings. Mingi treated you like a cherished object, like you held a place in his life beyond the realm of ordinary friendship. He surprised you with your favorite ice cream before you could even voice the craving, his smile melting your walls faster than the summer sun. Yet, a chilling fear lurked in your heart, a serpent coiling around your hope. The thought of losing his friendship, the foundation of your world, was a terror so potent it kept your lips sealed. You hung suspended, trapped between yearning and apprehension, a silent war raging within you. Suddenly, his voice, an anchor to reality, cut through your reverie. "Your ice cream is gonna melt if you keep staring at it like that," he teased, shoving the sweet treat playfully into your mouth. His eyes, however, mirrored your turmoil, a flicker of unspoken curiosity. "What's on your mind?" You could only offer a noncommittal hum, the words tangled in your throat like knots in a fishing line. "Come on, spill the tea," he nudged you playfully, his touch sending shivers down your spine. Your heart pounded a frantic rhythm against your ribs, a drumbeat to the silent dance you both performed.

And then, like a dam breaking, the words gushed out, defying your better judgment. "About us," you breathed, the breath hot against your lips, a confession ripped from your soul. It hung in the air, heavy and fragile, a bridge built of hope and fear, waiting to be crossed. Silence, thick and heavy, suffocated the space between you and Mingi. Your breath, released in a shaky gust, seemed to echo in the quiet, a stark punctuation mark against the backdrop of unspoken anxieties. "What exactly are we?" you asked, your voice barely a whisper. The question tumbled out, laden with all the unspoken longing and frustration that had festered within you for far too long. Each word crackled with the voltage of your yearning, the sparks illuminating the worst-case scenarios painting themselves across your mind. You braced yourself for Mingi's answer, both dreading and desiring the clarity it might bring. The seconds stretched, each a miniature eternity filled with the frantic hammering of your heart. You imagined turning away, fleeing the unbearable tension, escaping back into the familiar comfort of ambiguity. But as you took a tentative step back, your hand grazed Mingi's. His fingers, warm and strong, closed around yours, anchoring you in place. His gaze met yours, his eyes a storm of emotions mirroring your own. He held your hand, not a casual brush but a deliberate clasp, the unspoken promise of understanding pulsing through his touch. His silence, initially unsettling, blossomed into a quiet strength, a space for honesty to bloom.

"Right," he murmured, his voice soft yet carrying the weight of months of unspoken affection. "What exactly are we?" His eyes searched yours, seeking the answer you yourself struggled to articulate. "We fit together, you and I," he continued, his thumb gently stroking the back of your hand. "It's like a puzzle, every piece slotting perfectly into place. And," he paused, his voice dropping to a husky whisper, "I haven't felt this comfortable, this… connected, with anyone else." His words hung in the air, a confession disguised as a simple statement. The warmth from his touch radiated through you, melting away the ice of your fears. You felt the unspoken question hovering between you, "Is it the same for you?" The melting ice cream dribbled down your hand, forgotten on the warm pavement. Your gaze, like molten gold, collided with Mingi's, his irises swirling with a storm of unspoken emotions. He searched your face, his thumb tracing a gentle path along your cheek like he was memorizing the map of your soul. "I..." he whispered, the syllable heavy with anticipation. He seemed to be grappling with the weight of a thousand unsaid things, each one jostling for dominance on his tongue. Each breath stretched into an eternity, the silence pregnant with possibilities. Then, his husky whisper broke the spell, each word weighted with a longing that mirrored your own. "I want us to be more than what we are now," he admitted, his voice rough with vulnerability. His eyes, a kaleidoscope of emotions, searched yours for understanding, for hope. The confession, once unspoken and a source of unspoken torment, hung in the air between you, raw and real.

Wooyoung

The cursor on your laptop screen blinked incessantly, a mocking reminder of the work left undone. But the rhythmic beeping couldn't penetrate the fog of distraction swirling in your head. Every rustle of paper, every sigh from your best friend Wooyoung, was a siren song pulling you away from the digital world. Finally, with an exasperated groan, you slammed the laptop shut. Wooyoung, who had been whining like a puppy at your elbow, immediately perked up, his playful eyes glinting with mischief. He nudged the laptop aside, making space for himself on the couch, and settled in with a comfortable plop. "What do you really want, Wooyoung?" you asked, running a hand through your messy hair. You knew that wheedling tone, the one he reserved for when he needed something big. "I told you, I just need a little help," he said, his voice dripping with faux innocence. You raised an eyebrow, unconvinced. "Explain it to me." you challenged, watching a smile slowly creep across his face. He leaned closer, his hands hovering near your shoulders. "Is it a yes?" he asked, his voice barely a whisper. You narrowed your eyes, waiting for the punchline. "Hurry up before I change my mind and kick you out," you threatened, playfully shoving him. Wooyoung, unfazed, simply nodded and leaned even closer. His next move caught you completely off guard. He closed the distance between you in a swift rush, his lips meeting yours in a sudden, electrifying kiss. The world tilted on its axis. Your brain, previously occupied by spreadsheets and deadlines, short-circuited.

The taste of surprise mingled with the sweetness of his lips, sending a jolt of something exhilarating through you. As quickly as it started, the kiss ended, leaving you breathless and bewildered. Wooyoung pulled back, his cheeks flushed, a sheepish grin playing on his lips. "Thank you," he mumbled, his voice barely a whisper. The space between you was a canvas splashed with unspoken questions, the air thick with the lingering sweetness of the kiss. Your bodies remained impossibly close, Wooyoung's warmth radiating against your skin, his breath a soft flutter against your cheek. His eyes, usually sparkling with mischief, were now pools of unadulterated sincerity, holding yours captive. "What was that?" you whispered, the question bursting from your lips like a dam breaking. The words echoed strangely in the quiet room, amplified by the insistent ticking of the clock – a metronome to the beat of your racing hearts. Wooyoung's hand found yours, a grounding touch amidst the swirling vortex of emotions. His thumb traced circles on your skin, a comforting counterpoint to the butterflies erupting in your stomach. "I... I wanted to make sure I'm not going insane," he admitted, his voice a husky whisper, softer than you'd ever heard it. "To keep confusing myself, thinking... Maybe I was imagining it. But then I saw you," he added, his gaze searching yours, "and there it was again, clear as day. This feeling." He paused, the weight of his unspoken words heavy in the air. You held your breath, waiting, every nerve ending tingling with anticipation.

"I fall for you, Y/N," he finally breathed, the words landing on your heart like soft snowflakes. "And judging by the way your heart's threatening to jackhammer out of your chest," he chuckled, a hint of his usual playful self peeking through, "I'd say the kiss was a yes." His confession, raw and vulnerable, hung in the air between you, a bridge of honesty built over months of unspoken yearning. The clock, once a backdrop of mundane routine, now seemed to celebrate each tick, each second marking the beginning of something precious, something new. You spun away, the memory of his lips still sizzling against yours. Your cheeks burned like they held secrets whispering to burst out, and you desperately needed a moment, any moment, to gather your scattered thoughts. But Wooyoung wouldn't let you escape. His strong, gentle hand cupped your chin, turning your face back towards him. His eyes, normally sparkling with playful mischief, now held a depth that made your breath hitch. "Friends don't kiss like that," he murmured, his voice a low rumble that sent shivers down your spine. The unspoken question hung in the air between you, thick and heavy, an electric current crackling with unvoiced desires and hopes. His words, simple yet profound, shattered the dam holding back your own emotions. A smile, unsure at first, then blossoming into a radiant sun, spread across your face. "So... this means we're a couple now, right?" you asked, your voice barely a whisper, yet laced with a thrill that danced in your eyes.

Jongho

The scent of lavender oil and simmering truffle filled the air as you and Jongho sat across from each other, bathed in the warm glow of candlelight. His hand, calloused yet gentle, enveloped yours, sending a current of warmth and unspoken affection that radiated through you. You'd watched him adjust his tie nervously throughout the evening, a rare glimpse into the vulnerability beneath his confident exterior. Jongho had always made you feel special, like the sun and moon revolved around your relationship. He never missed a birthday, anniversary, or a chance to surprise you with his quiet, thoughtful gestures. And tonight, amidst the clinking of silverware and soft murmur of the restaurant, you had a tingling premonition that something momentous was about to unfold. He cleared his throat, his voice husky with a tremor of emotion. "I used to worry a lot about the future," he began, his words unfolding like the petals of a delicate flower. "What career I should pursue, what kind of life I wanted to build... Then you walked into my life, and all my anxieties faded away. With you, everything became clearer, brighter. You brought joy I never knew existed, laughter that echoed through my soul." His gaze, usually brimming with playful mischief, now held a depth that mirrored the ocean under a starlit sky. He spoke of love like a poet composing a masterpiece, each word an exquisitely crafted brushstroke painting a vivid picture of his devotion.

The flickering candlelight danced in your eyes, threatening to spill over into tears of joy. The fancy restaurant, usually a backdrop for fleeting pleasures, transformed into a stage for this intimate symphony of love. Jongho, in his crisp suit and nervous smile, was the most breathtaking portrait you'd ever witnessed. "And now, I have another dream," he continued, his fingers tracing circles on yours. "A dream of building a family with you, of growing old with laughter lines etched around our eyes and stories whispered to our grandchildren. Will you… will you make me the happiest man alive and share this dream with me?" A single, silent nod. Words seemed to have deserted you, overwhelmed by the torrent of emotions his confession unleashed. Yet, your eyes spoke volumes, brimming with an unspoken 'yes' that shimmered brighter than any diamond. A tender smile bloomed on your lips, a beacon of happiness mirroring the relief washing over him. He saw his answer reflected in your radiant face, his heart soaring like a kite on a summer breeze. Without a word, he leaned closer, drawn by an invisible tether of yearning. As his lips met yours, the world around you muted, the symphony of the restaurant replaced by the soft melody of two souls intertwining. This kiss, born from the embers of unspoken promises and shared dreams, tasted different. It was sweeter, yes, but also deeper, infused with the intoxicating elixir of certainty. It was a kiss that resonated in your very core, a whispered prophecy of forever etched in the space between your breaths.

In that moment, suspended in time and bathed in the soft glow of moonlight, you understood. This wasn't just a kiss; it was a vow, a silent declaration of a love that defied definition. It was the first brushstroke on the canvas of your future, a masterpiece waiting to be painted together, hand in hand, heart to heart. Minutes seemed to stretch into eternities, suspended in the weight of his lips on yours. The taste of him, familiar yet somehow new, filled you with a joy so radiant it threatened to spill over in laughter. Stepping into the future with him, hand in hand, felt like dancing on sunbeams, a light-hearted confidence buoying your every step. He pulled back, a hesitant smile gracing his lips. "Finally," he breathed, the whisper carrying the echo of countless unspoken moments. "Finally, I kiss you again. I was so nervous, you know? Every time I imagined it, it reminded me... it reminded me I should propose." His words, laced with self-deprecating humor, were music to your ears. A warm chuckle bubbled up from your chest, echoing his own. The tension, sweet and electric, dissolved into shared amusement, a testament to the comfortable ease that flowed between you. "You should have seen yourself," you teased, nudging him playfully. "Your tie was practically choking you." He feigned offense, his eyes sparkling with mischief. "It was the pressure! Knowing I was about to ask the most important question of my life."

©Tinytinyblogs

[mypearlsareclutched]

Being Here is Harder

High By The Beach | Chapter Two

Modern!Aemond x Original Female Character, Modern!Aegon II x Original Female Character

Mila Stark has a brief interaction with death itself, but the Stranger offers her a second chance at life. Moving forwards, Mila needs to figure out what the future looks like to her, and if Aemond could still have a place in her heart...

Next chapter, guys and dolls and others. I'm really getting these chapters out quickly because my drafts are full of WIPs I'm eager to write (I have ADHD and have about a thousand ideas I'm sorting through) this chapter feels fillery but ignore that. Hope you enjoy.

Song inspiration | High By The Beach, Lana Del Rey

CW//TW: references to SERIOUS drug use, angst, fluff, rehabilitation clinics, Rhaenyra being mother in every way, hospitals, found families, Cregan's big brother vibes, Targaryens being messy and dysfunctional, brief smut (18+), infidelity, moving on, Aemond's POV, slow-burn, a wild Aegon appears because he does that.

Word count | 3.5k

previous chapter // next chapter

It felt so good at first. The drinking, the drugs, the partying… Aemond. But like a tsunami, the first sign of danger is when the tide draws in.

The first thing Mila felt when she woke up was heavy. Her body felt like she was drowning, held down by chains at the bottom of a lake. She whined softly, forcing her eyes open as she tried feebly to rouse out of her deep sleep.

“Easy, sweetheart, you’re alright.” A teary voice murmurs, patting her sweaty hair. Mila sobs, opening her eyes a crack, bright white light burning her eyes.

"Nyra?" She mumbles, her voice hoarse as she looks up at the woman in front of her. Rhaenyra gives her a sad smile, brushing her hair back.

"You're alright, sweet girl, you're okay." The Targaryen soothes her, sitting on the edge of her bed.

"What... what happened?"

"You... darling, you overdosed." Rhaenyra says, her eyes glassy. Mila opens her eyes wider, looking around.

They are in a hospital, white and stagnant walls and floors. Laid up on a cot, the Stark girl is hooked up to IV's and beeping monitors. Mila starts panicking, a cold sweat breaking out on her skin as she wildly looks around.

"No.. no no no... Nyra, I'm so sorry." Mila cries, sobs wracking her body. Her heart rate increases, and Rhaenyra tries to calm her down as Cregan rushes into the room, his eyes red and teary.

"Doctor! Doctor, something's wrong!" Cregan yells, and Mila is wrapped in Rhaenyra's arms as she shakes and writhes.

The sound of a phone ringing awakens Aemond.

He groans, shifting in his sleep as his expensive sheets wrap around his bare skin. The ringing continues, echoing around the flat. He blindly reaches for it, his hand knocking it to the floor accidentally.

"Shit..." He groaned, mind still clinging on to sleep.

The soft padding of feet can be heard from across the room, and Aemond smiles softly, waiting for Mila to wake him up and tell him to get his ass into gear. The bed creaks as someone kneels upon it, their warm breath dancing on the skin of Aemond's neck as they lean over him.

"Wake up, little dragon." A woman's voice murmurs in his ear.

That's not Mila. Aemond opens his eyes, startled. Alys Rivers leans over him, a smirk on her red lips as she looks over him. Memories of last night come back to him. Viserys' party, the argument with Mila, taking Alys to bed again...

Disgusted, Aemond jumps up, getting as far away from Alys as he can. He grabs the comforter to wrap around his hips, face fiery as he glares at the older woman still kneeling on the bed. She pouts playfully, her face still smirking behind her mask of sadness.

"Get out." Aemond demands, fists shaking slightly at his side, "Get the fuck out!"

Alys laughs, making Aemond's skin crawl. She slowly crawls off the bed, sliding past him to grab her coat. With a look over her shoulder, she blows him a kiss, "See you soon, sweetling."

Aemond shivers as she vanishes from sight, the sound of his front door shutting and relieving him. His skin feels gross, slimy, unfamiliar as he remembers last night.

"Oh fuck, yes! Feels so good!" Alys moans, bouncing on top of Aemond's cock. His hands grip onto her waist, his neck craning as he stares up at the ceiling. Pleasure thrums through his veins at every snap of her hips, but his mind casts illusions of Mila in Alys' place. His body was too used to submitting to Alys and her affections, but his mind knew who he truly belonged to.

In his mind, Mila is on top of him, Mila is moaning his name, Mila is sending pleasure through his body with every clench of her cunt. As he finishes, it's Mila's name on his lips, his body shuddering as Alys climbs over him, settling in his arms.

"Fuck." Aemond whispers, storming to his bathroom, turning on the shower and scrubbing his skin until it was raw. Trying to remove the stains of that woman, unable to wash away the memories...

Returning to his bed, he throws on his clothes on haphazardly as he grabs his phone, eyebrows furrowing as he spots the many notifications.

(4) Missed Calls - O.Hightower

(12) Messages - O.Hightower

(2) Messages - Unknown Number

"Shit..." Aemond murmurs as he grabs his jacket and races out of his apartment. He ignores the notifications, dialing Mila's number instead. Straight to voicemail.

"Mila, my love, please answer me." Aemond pleads, pulling on his jacket, "I need to go and talk to Otto, then I'm coming to yours, okay? I can't... I can't leave things as they are, baby."

Aemond stops. Mila's car is still parked outside, in the same place they parked last night. He looks around, hoping that she stands around somewhere. Alas, no sign of her. Looking up, he can see that his living room window is clearly visible from the car's position. Worry claws his chest, but he shakes his head as he gets into his own car.

Does she know about Alys?

The doctor, a tall Dornish woman, presses her stethoscope to Mila's chest, instructing her to take a deep breath. As she does, her body shudders, ice in her veins and her skin itchy and dry.

"Hm." Dr. Toland hums, dark brows creasing as she listens to Mila's thumping heart, "Your heart rate is slowly returning to normal. I believe you will be fit to transported by tomorrow morning."

Across the room, Rhaenyra lets out a relieved breath. Cregan sits in a chair beside Mila's bed, eyes red rimmed as he watches his sister's pale face.

"Transported?" Mila asks, blinking up at the doctor. Toland gives her a grave look, before turning to Cregan and nodding. As she leaves, the air is charged with tension.

"We're sending you to a rehabilitation clinic." Cregan states, his hands shaking on his knees.

Mila swallows, bringing her thumb to her mouth to gnaw at her nail, "Is that really necessary?"

"Emiliana, you're shaking. Your body is hooked on that shit again and the second you walk out of this place you'll be going to Lannister to get another hit."

"How do you know Lannister sold it to me?"

"Who do you think I talked to to find you? Huh?" Cregan shouts, standing up, "I called you a dozen times and you wouldn't pick up. The pictures of Aemond and that fossil got leaked and I knew you were going to.... fuck, Mila." With a choked sob, he collapses back into the chair, holding his hand up to his mouth as a tear rolls down his cheek.

Mila chews her thumb, eyes vacant as she stares at the foot of the bed. She tried to listen to what her brother was saying, but she was feening for the needle, she needed it and it was all her body was telling her.

Across the room, Rhaenyra stares at her, taking in her appearance. Mila was always a beautiful girl, long dark hair and high cheekbones. Since getting clean and growing into a woman, she was on the tall side like most Starks, and at a healthy weight. But looking at her now, she looked just like she did when she was fifteen. Frail, scared, feeling alone in the world. Her steely eyes are dull, surrounded by dark bags and ashen skin.

"Sweetheart, what happened?" The Targaryen asks her softly.

"I told you what happened!" Cregan snaps, "Your fucking snake of a brother stuck it in his elderly ex and sent my baby sister spiraling. When I get my fucking hands on him I'll take his other fucking eye!"

"Cregan!" Rhaenyra shouts, and he goes quiet, breathing heavily as he flexes his hands, eyes full of anger.

"Does Aemond know?" Mila asks in a quiet voice.

"Alicent called me after Aemond's photos were made public." Rhaenyra says softly, "She couldn't reach you. I told her what happened... She wanted to come and see you but her father is doing damage control right now, and he won't let them be seen coming here. He wants to keep this whole thing away from the press."

"Yeah, can you imagine the headline; "Targaryen heir shags his dinosaur mistress, sending his girlfriend to her death"." Cregan scoffs, his knee bouncing with pent up anger.

"Aemond will probably know by now." Rhaenyra whispers, "But none of us will allow him to come and see you in this state."

Mila shakes in her bed, her skin crawling and her tongue dry. With a resolute nod, she looks at her family. "... I need to go to rehab."

Rhaenyra lets out a relieved sigh, and Cregan nods. Mila stares at the end of her bed, her thumb beginning to bleed with her gnawing. Her mind is a mess of bad memories and dwindling calmness brought on by the hit, and she knows that soon her body will start detoxing.

A phone rings, Rhaenyra grabs her bag and checks her phone screen. With a grimace, she excuses herself, leaving the room in a flurry of silver hair and dark, expensive clothes. Cregan stands up, sitting on the edge of his sisters bed as he cups her cheek.

"I almost died last night." Mila whispers, her eyes glassy as she looks up at her brother, Cregan looking down at her while rubbing her hair affectionately.

"But you didn't." He murmurs, voice cracking, "We're going to get through this, okay?"

"Mhm." Mila sighs, "Did you... were you the one who found me?"

"It was Rhaena." Cregan sighs, "She and Baela came with me to your apartment, she was the one who found you in the bathroom. I've never seen her so upset."

"Gods..." Mila whispers, tears falling down her cheeks.

"She was here with us all night, Rhaenys had to drag both of them home to get some sleep. They'll be back soon."

"I don't know if I can face them." She shudders, "After what I have put them through? I can't believe I've done this again, Creg."

"Shush, Emmie." He soothes her, pressing a kiss to her forehead, "You're the She-Wolf. You're stronger than this. You'll see."

Breaking the speed limit multiple times, Aemond arrives at his family's mansion, his jaw set and face pale as he sees Criston Cole waiting for him. Parking his car, he gives his head of security a confused look, nerves growing as he takes in Cole's grave expression.

"My father...?" Aemond asks, sure Viserys' passing would have caused all of this.

"Alive." Cole says simply, "You need to go inside."

With one final look, Aemond rushes past him. The house is quiet, eerily so, but muffled voices can be heard, their voices grim.

Inside the kitchen, his family stands around the table. Otto braces his hands against the glass, trying to talk calmly to Alicent, who is pacing hysterically. Halaena and Daeron sit at the table, both looking spaced out.

"We must go, father." Alicent sobs, clutching a tissue to her chest as she takes deep breaths, "We must go to the hospital, Rhaenyra said she isn't out of the woods, if she... if-"

"Aemond!" Daeron exclaims, rising from his chair as he meets his brother's eyes.

The other's grow silent. Otto stares at Aemond as if he were an insect, a sneer on his thin lips. The others look at him as if he were a ghost.

"What's going on?" Aemond asks, his body going cold.

Otto pulls out his phone, swiping it open before sliding it across the glass table. Aemond picks it up, grimacing as an article pops up. Pictures of his apartment can be clearly seen, two people engaged in lewd acts. The headline reads "Targaryen Prince trades She-Wolf for Ex-Girlfriend! Spotted Getting Cozy After Viserys Targaryen's Shindig!"

"Shit." Aemond sighs, pressing a hand to his forehead, "How the fuck... gods they must have been outside my flat last night, waiting for something to happen."

"You're a fucking fool." Otto shouts, and Halaena presses her hands to her ears, her snake Dreamfyre slithering up her arm protectively. Aemond straightens his back, leveling Otto with a glare.

"I never meant for it to happen."

"Well, it did, didn't it?" Otto smiles cruelly, "Your... your weakness has once again tarnished this family's reputation. After a year of making sure you seemed like the perfect, model son, you threw it all away by being caught allowing that woman back into your life, discarding Westeros' golden girl in the process. Gods forbid the press find out what's happened to Mila, we'll never see the light of day again!"

Aemond goes still, his skin going cold. Panic erupts in his chest, white hot fear settling inside his ribs and crushing him. His hands shake as he looks around the morbid expressions of his kin.

"What... what's happened to Mila?" Aemond asks, his voice quiet and weak, more like that of a boy's than a man's, "Mother?"

Alicent sits heavily down in a chair, holding a hand to her forehead. Daeron opens his mouth, before closing it and wrapping his arms protectively around himself. Otto merely glares, finger tapping on the table.

"Your love made her sick." Halaena murmurs, as Dreamfyre nuzzles against her neck.

It is like Mila can hear all the sounds in the hospital. Beeping and whirring and talking and sirens, all too loud. The room is large but stuffy, her body hot yet cold, drowning in an ocean yet parched like she was crawling across the Dornish sands. She absentmindedly scratches at her needle mark, making it bleed, warm blood covering her chipping fingernails.

The door opens, and Mila is quick to hide her forearm in the massive sleeves of the hospital gown. A teary face greets her, locks in disarray as if she just woke up.

"Rhaena." Mila sobs, guilt overtaking her as she sees her friend. Rhaena bursts into fresh tears also, running over to collect Mila into her arms, shushing her and petting her hair.

"It's okay, you're okay." Rhaena whispers, her voice light and haunted.

"I'm so sorry." The Stark murmurs, "I'm going to rehab, I'll get better, I swear it."

"Good." Outside the room, the window shows the near empty corridor. Cregan stands against a wall, head rising as someone joins his side. Baela looks tired, dressed frumpy and wearing a face of barely contained anger.

"Baela won't come in?" Mila asks.

Rhaena gnaws her lip, "She said she will talk to you when you're better."

"Oh." Mila whispers, guilt and shame gnawing at her.

"She's not angry at you." Rhaena is quick to explain, "She's furious over the situation with Aemond. We heard Rhaenyra speaking to Alicent outside... I can't believe he would humiliate you like that? And then to... gods, honey."

Mila nods with a tense jaw, playing with her hands as she shakes slightly. Rhaena holds her hands in her own, sharing in her natural warmth. The door opens, and Rhaenyra enters with a soft smile, her hands full of a bouquet of sunflowers.

"Could I have a moment with her, Rhaena?" Nyra asks, placing the flowers down on the bedside table. The younger woman nods, pressing a kiss to Mila's knuckles before rising. As Rhaena leaves, Cregan waits outside. Through the window, Mila can see Rhaena collapse into his arms, and he holds her tightly, murmuring words to her.

Despite the years since they broke up, the fondness between them remains strong. You never truly forget your first love, do you? Mila closes her eyes in pain at the thought. Will Aemond haunt me forever?

The hospital bed creaks as Rhaenyra sits down beside her, taking Mila's clammy hand in hers. Mila smiles at her somberly, looking down at the pamphlet held in her hands.

"Alicent dropped this off, and the flowers." Rhaenyra nods to the sunflowers.

"What is that?" Mila asks, looking at the pamphlet.

"It's a rehabilitation facility, it's called Weirwood Rehabilitation." Rhaenyra sighs, flicking through it, "Apparently, it's one of the best. Many public figures have used it. It's known for its discretion."

"Sounds promising." Mila half-smiles, "Hopefully the Clubfoot will leave me alone for five minutes."

Nyra smiles, though it is pained, her eyes distant as she ponders something.

"What's wrong?" Mila asks, her eyebrows furrowing. Rhaenyra takes a breath, pressing her lips together.

"Aegon's been at Weirwood for the past year." She sighs, "I called them to ask if he was still a patient there, and they said that he has been checked out for a good month now."

Mila let's that sink in for a moment. Aegon was there. Recently. Though having never spoken to the eldest son of the Targaryen clan, it feels as if he will haunt that place. It feels as though she will not escape them, maybe she never will. Taking a breath, Mila nods resolutely.

"Okay." She says softly.

"You still want to go?" Rhaenyra asks, eyebrow quirked.

"...Yeah." Mila nods, looking at the sunflowers, "I need help."

The next morning, Mila is wheeled out of the hospital by Cregan, heading towards where Rhaenyra stands waiting by her car, next to Jace, Luke, Laenora, Rhaena and Baela.

"Should there be a priest here to read my last rites?" Mila rasps.

"I can't believe you." Jace sighs, "You just Mia Wallace'd all over your bathroom, Pulp Fiction style, and you're making jokes?"

"My whole life is a joke at the moment."

Weirwood was named after the forest surrounding it. Many miles from civilisation, the large stone building was nestled deep amongst the dark trees.

By the time they arrived at the facility, Mila was already feeling it. The heroin was leaving her system, and taking all her strength with it. She clinged to Cregan as he helped her to the large, ornate door. Inside, the walls were sage green and the floor grey marble. A dark-skinned woman dressed in a deep blue jumper rushes over, offering Mila a smile as she takes her weight from Cregan.

"Emiliana Stark." Cregan states, nervously bouncing on the balls of his feet.

"I know, I saw her in the tabloids." The woman smiles, "We'll take good care of her."

"Okay... okay." Cregan sighs, body slumping slightly as he gives Mila a sad smile, pressing a kiss to her sweaty forehead before reluctantly turning and leaving.

Mila sobs, fingers grasping onto the ladies soft navy sweater.

"It's alright, it's alright, let's get you to a room." The woman says softly, holding her upright as they walk down one of the adjacent hallways.

The walk down was difficult, Mila's shaking and sweating making her weak and her head felt heavy and swimmy, but the woman persevered, rarely faltering in basically carrying the other woman further down the hall. A dog barks in the distance, each coming down the hallway.

"Sheepstealer, if you don't shut up!" The woman bellows, making Mila's ears ring, "Sorry about that. Here we are!"

Pushing open a door, Mila trips over her own feet, allowing the woman to drag her forwards to deposit her on a bed. The soft sheets offer immediate relief, and Mila practically melts into them.

"Alright, Emiliana. Do you prefer Emiliana or something else? Emily, Milly? Doesn't matter, we'll talk about it later. You can call me Nettles, or Netty if you would like. I'll leave you for a moment to grab you some water. There's a button beside your bed which will alert the front desk if you need help."

With that, Nettles disappears from sight. The room is cold, yet sweltering. The sound of her own heartbeat is deafening. A voice in her head is murmuring, her own voice...

Get high, we need to get high, this will end if we just GET HIGH!

Mila sobbed, her body feeling cold and shaky. Her stomach churned, her blood felt fiery and her skin frozen, shudders wracking her. She knew this feeling well, the heroin leaving her system and her system not knowing what to do without it. Like her and Aemond. Aemond was her own heroin, and now she did not know what to do without him.

Panic is taking her over again, delivering punch after punch as she lets tears stream down her face, grief over her relationship making her detox ten times worse.

Her door opens quietly, a soft voice says something which evades her. A warm hand is pressed to her forehead, taking in her sweating state, and she leans in to the touch despite herself.

“Hey, hey, it’s okay, it’s okay.” A man’s voice soothes, “Detoxing is a bitch, but it’ll get better, I promise.”

His hands are warm, rubbing over her shoulder. Mila leans into it, allowing his warmth and comforting scent to bring her some reprieve from the internal battle her body is fighting. The mystery man pulls a second blanket over her, the warmth and weight a welcome sensation. The stranger continues to rub her shoulder, before moving to leave her be.

Her hand shoots out, blindly searching for him.

"Okay, okay, I'm not going anywhere." He chuckles, the bed dipping as he sits down beside her. He runs a hand over her back again.

When she looks up, she meets a pair of big blue eyes, which crinkle as he gives her a kind smile.

“Hi, I’m Aegon.”

AN// Oh no another Targaryen for Mila to become attached to! I hope you enjoyed this chapter. The shifting of perspectives between Mila and Aemond may be confusing and I am sorry, it won't become a regular thing x

Lula x

[vermilionsun]

Hi don’t mind that I’m here again akdnsjsks

If it’s okies may I ask for some HCs for Ais and Mhin whose s/o comes back to the sea spring or to Wet Wick but then s/o is Injured/covered in blood? Esp on how they’d react and what they would do 👁️👁️ tyvm!

Ah, love a classic prompt!

There's a "just bloody, not injured" and a "knocking on deaths door" version for both, with an extra little something for Ais.

Enjoy <3

Mhin

🕊 Mhin was sitting idly at the bar of the Wet Wick, nursing a shot of mead, when a familiar figure limbed inside.

Superficial

🕊 Their partner entered the tavern, groaning as they collapsed into the seat next to Mhin. The latter tried to hide their smile with their drink when they noticed their partner’s clothes stained in blood, but couldn’t see any cuts in the fabric. "What’s wrong with you now. Rough day?" Mhin asked, already knowing the answer, as they signaled the bartender for a round of drinks for them.

The partner let out a tired chuckle, running a hand through their disheveled hair. "You have no idea," they replied, accepting the drink from the bartender with a grateful nod. "A bastard tried to stab me."

🕊 Mhin's already flattened smile immediately faded. They turned their partner around on the stool, forcing them to face them and grabbing their waist to check for injuries. Their touch was surprisingly gentle. "Are you bleeding?"

"No, thankfully I was able to dodge in time, save for a few cuts. But it was a close call," they admitted, taking a sip of their drink to calm their nerves.

🕊 They let out a quiet sigh of relief. They reached out and pushed some hair out of their partner's face, their expression a mix of worry and irritation. "When will you ever learn?"

"Mhin—"

🕊 "I warned you something like this would happen multiple times." They continued eyeing their partner up and down, their hands still on their waist, subconsciously drawing them closer. "You're such a magnet for trouble. What were you doing in the dark alleys again? Who even goes to those places at night?" They shook their head in exasperation.

"Mhin—"

🕊 "What's the name of the person you got into a fight with this time? No one hurts you and gets away with it—"

Their words were cut off by their partner's lips against theirs.

"It doesn't matter; I can handle myself," their partner replies with a stupid smile.

🕊 Mhin's cheeks flushed a pretty, even pink. "I know you can, but that doesn't mean I won't worry," they said softly, reaching out to take their partner's hand into theirs, only to be engulfed into their warm embrace.

🕊 "I promise, I'll be more careful next time," their partner whispered, holding them close.

"…Idiot."

Serious

🕊 Their s/o's side was covered in blood, their hands concealing the wound as they staggered towards Mhin with a wild look in their eyes. 

🕊 Mhin's eyes widened, and the moment they caught sight of the blood, they were up to their feet, rushing over to their s/o’s side. “What the hell happened to you?”

🕊 Their s/o looked up at Mhin with a mix of pain and desperation in their eyes. "It's a long story," they managed to gasp out before collapsing into Mhin's arms. More blood gushed out of the wound, staining Mhin's clothes as they held them close, feeling their heartbeat flutter against their chest.

🕊 Mhin cursed under their breath, shifting their grip to get a better hold of them, mind clouded with worry. Mhin slung their partner's arm over their shoulder, supporting their weight as they half-carried them to a more secluded space. "We need to get you patched up."

🕊 “Stay with me, okay?” Mhin coaxed softly. They gently lowered their partner onto a chair, keeping one hand on their shoulder and using the other to inspect the wound. "How long ago did this happen?" they asked with a deep breath, trying to calm themselves.

🕊 Their partner let out a pained wheeze, shuddering slightly as Mhin's fingers prodded at the injury. Eyes half-lidded and unfocused, they tried to answer, but only managed a weak cough instead. “Few hours…” They let out a shaky whisper, their gaze drifting to the floor, the effort clearly taking its toll.

🕊 "You idiot, why didn’t you get help?!" Mhin scolded, their voice laced with worry and frustration. "I'll take care of you now; just hold on," they assured their partner, despite the feeling of unease settling in the pit of their stomach.

🕊 They weakly shook their head. "I didn't want to worry you," they whispered before losing consciousness.

🕊 Mhin's heart sank, and they let out a low growl, scooping them up swiftly and carried them out of the bar and to Kuras' clinic. 

🕊 Mhin's heart sank, and they let out a low growl, scooping them up swiftly and carrying them out of the bar and to Kuras' clinic. They felt completely powerless, watching their partner's pale face and limp body in their arms as they rushed through the crowded streets, praying for the first time in a long, long time.

🕊 Mhin banged at Kuras' clinic's back door relentlessly, their motions bordering on desperation, when the door swung open and Kuras appeared. He only needed to take one look at the situation before rushing them inside for immediate treatment.

🕊 Mhin felt a sense of helplessness wash over them as they stood in the waiting room, their hands clenched tightly in fists as they tried to push back the overwhelming fear and worry that threatened to consume them. The minutes dragged on, each one feeling like an eternity as they paced back and forth.

🕊 Once allowed inside, they'd stay by their partner’s bedside, holding their hands tightly and silently begging for them to wake up and be okay. The seconds felt like hours, each heartbeat echoing loudly in Mhin's ears as they waited for their partner's eyes to finally flutter open and give them that stupid grin they adored so much.

🕊 One name, that’s all Mhin needed. One name to end one life.

Ais

✩ Ais was lazing around the temple, soaking in the peaceful atmosphere and enjoying the cool breeze that wafted through the openings. Suddenly, the door opened with a loud creak, breaking the tranquility of the moment. Ais looked up to see a distinctive shadow entering with a stumble; their face contorted in agony, their clothes covered in crimson red.

Superficial

✩ “What in the hell?” His crimson eyes narrowed in curiosity. He took a moment to observe his partner, noting the bloodstains on their clothes.

✩ Ais quickly stood up and rushed over to his partner, concern etched on his face. "What happened? Are you hurt?" he asked.

"I'm fine, just a scratch," his partner replied through gritted teeth.

✩ Ais' eyebrow raised at the nonchalant reply, clearly unconvinced by the dismissive remark. "Sure, because people walk in here covered in blood all the time, 'just a scratch'," he quipped sarcastically. “You sure look like a walking crime scene. Let me see." He moved closer, his gaze sharpening as he examined the extent of the 'scratch', his touch surprisingly gentle for his rough demeanor. Thankfully, his partner was right—the blood wasn’t theirs.

✩ "You're insufferable, you know that?" he muttered, the hint of relief in his voice barely perceptible. He crossed his arms and leaned against the wall, his gaze still fixed on his partner. "Care to explain how you ended up looking like a splatter painting, then?"

"A bastard tried to stab me."

✩ "Tried to stab you?" Ais chuckled wryly, a hint of irony dripping from his words. "But they failed miserably, I presume?”

✩ His smirk widened when his partner merely nodded in affirmative. "What happened to them?" he inquired, his voice laced with curiosity.

Serious

✩ As his partner approached, Ais could see tears streaming down their face, and their hands clutching at their chest. He immediately sprang into action, rushing to help them, but wasn't able to cushion their fall as they collapsed onto the ground, clutching their chest and gasping for breath.

✩ "Damn it, you idiot..." Ais cursed under his breath as he kneeled beside his partner, "Just what did you do now....?" he muttered, his gaze flickering between their pained face and their trembling hands clutching at their chest. That's when he saw it—a huge gash along their ribcage, blood seeping out steadily to the temple's cold stone floor, seeping into the Seaspring.

✩ Ais' heart skipped a beat. He clenched his jaw, trying to keep his own emotions in check as he assessed the extent of the injury. "That... doesn't look good..."

✩ He quickly tore off a piece of his own cloak and pressed it against the wound, trying to stem the flow of blood. "Hang in there; we'll get you patched up," he said, his voice filled with panic overlayed with faux confidence. He knew they needed help, and fast.

✩ He looked around the temple, searching for any supplies that could help him, that could help them. But there was nothing.

✩ Ais drowned in cold sweat as desperation began to set in. "Think, think, think," he muttered to himself, his mind racing through all possible options as he frantically tried to think of a solution—

✩ “A̶i̶s̶” The sound was barely audible—a faint whisper carried on the wind—and yet it sent a shiver down his spine. Ais froze, his heart pounding in his chest.

"No," he muttered through clenched teeth.

✩ “Y̶o̶u̶ c̶a̶n̶'t̶ s̶a̶v̶e̶ t̶h̶e̶m̶," Ocuedus laughed in his head. "B̶r̶i̶n̶g̶ t̶h̶e̶m̶ t̶o̶ m̶e̶," it called out.

"No... Shut up..!" Ais shook his head, trying to block out the dark voice.

✩ "B̶R̶I̶N̶G̶ T̶H̶E̶M̶ T̶O̶ M̶E̶!" It demanded, and its enormous shadow constricted around him like a vice, making it difficult to breathe.

"Stop it—"

✩ "Come on," it coaxed; its voice almost resembled a soothing melody, a human tone that terrified the man. "S̶a̶v̶e̶ t̶h̶e̶m̶… Save me," its voice became one of his beloved.

✩ For a moment, everything stopped; the sound of his unconscious partner's blood falling into the dark liquid of the spring, steady as a clock, being the only source of sound. He looked down at his partner, their pain-stricken face swimming before his eyes.

#1

✩ Ais clenched his fists. "Fuck you," the defiant words spilled from his lips without hesitation.

Ocuedus merely chuckled in response, as if amused by Ais' futile resistance.

✩ The distorted chorus continued to echo in his mind, haunting him with its plea for salvation as he picked up his partner's limp body and carried them away from the spring.

✩ He ran through the wasteland; the weight of his partner in his arms felt heavier with each step, but he refused to let the fear and uncertainty of the situation consume him. And he didn't stop running until the familiar scent of the inside of Kuras' clinic was penetrating his lungs.

#2

✩ He felt his resolve crumble like a stack of cards. "Damn it...!" With a resigned sigh, Ais gritted his teeth and slowly stood up, his body trembling with a mixture of anger and helplessness. He scooped up his partner and carried them down the steep wooden stairs and into the crimson liquid.

✩ He closed their nose, opened their mouth, and gently submerged them into the warm, swirling pool. With a heavy heart, he watched as their body began to convulse and twitch, the dark liquid working its magic.

✩ And if his partner didn’t wake up again… Eridia be damned.

[prettyboyeddiemunson]

thinking about pornstar Eddie tonight...

Thinking about how he needs to show up to work presentable, a clean slate....and you're just really bratty for some reason and leave the biggest hickey on his neck...

Hmmm.....yeah

omg he would definitely punish you for that!

imagine he comes home from a shoot, and you have a plan while he goes to take a shower. you’re feeling particularly bratty, and you know already that he has to go back to work tomorrow. you were fine with what he did for a living, but sometimes you just wanted to mark your territory on him. you were in one of those moods tonight, and a smirk played across your lips as you thought about everything you were going to do.

he comes out of the shower, toweling at his long hair, and grinning as he notices your smirk. “what’s that look for, baby?”

“oh, nothing,” you say, sitting up on the bed and beckoning him to come closer. “come here. i’ve missed you all day.”

“you just missed my dick,” he says, placing your hand on it as you palm him. “mmm, and i missed you touching me.”

“i missed YOU,” you say, sitting up on your knees on the bed so that you could kiss him. “i really, really did.”

“i missed you a lot, too,” he says, groaning as you start kissing his neck. “thought about you all day.”

“oh yeah?” you ask, reaching down to squeeze his balls as you sucked a spot on his neck. “even while you were balls deep in someone else?”

“not balls deep,” he said, moaning before tilting his head back. “be careful doing that, baby.”

“why?” you ask, playing innocent as you keep sucking on his skin.

“no hickeys,” he says, his lashes fluttering as you continue to work on him. “y/n, i’m serious.”

“oops,” you say, drawing back and hiding your smirk as you see a large hickey beginning to form. “my bad.”

“you fucking didn’t,” eddie nearly growls, stepping back to look in the vanity mirror. “fuck! the director is going to pitch a fit!”

“oh, who cares,” you say, removing your clothes and biting your lip. “you’re really too fixated on what others think of you.”

“this is part of my job, you brat!” he says, coming over to the bed and pushing you onto it. “it’s going to ruin the shoot!”

“well, maybe you could ruin ME instead,” you offer, pulling him fully on top of you and leaning up for a hard kiss. “ever think of that?”

“trust me, i fucking plan on it now,” he says with a growl, starting to kiss roughly over your neck. “gonna mark you up, too.”

“you better,” you say, moaning as he sucks a big hickey on your sweet spot. “oh, fuck…”

“gonna teach you that your actions have fucking consequences,” he says, moving down to suck on your nipples. he littered your breasts with hickeys beforehand, his grip on you tight. “fucking brat.”

“oh, eddie,” you moan, tugging his hair as hard as you can as he bites your nipple. he swirls his pierced tongue around it, his eyes fixated on you through his lashes & hair. “fuck, please…”

“you’re going to be begging for mercy by the time I’m done with you,” he says, making his way between your legs next.

he wasn’t wrong. he ate you out over, and over, and over, not stopping until you were sobbing from being overstimulated. then he fucked you, first while standing at the edge of the bed, then again from behind as he left large red handprints on your ass, then again in missionary. you scratched his back up, making him bleed, marking him up further. that prompted him to stop and cuff you, where he coaxed another two orgasms out of you. you fell back, exhausted, but he still wasn’t done with you.

“on your knees,” he ordered as he released you from the cuffs. “you’re going to clean yourself off of my dick, and you’re going to take every single inch that I give you.”

——————-

mini taglist: @littledemondani @andvys @wroteclassicaly @succubusmunson @eddieschains @eddiemunsons-missingnipple @trashmouth-richie @sunkillerdreamer @keikoraven @eiightysixbaby

[lfcgirlxx84]

Daddy’s Good Girl

Warning : Under 18’s do not read.

Here it is, I’ve never wrote anything like this before but I am open to criticism. Enjoy!

Joel didn’t smoke weed very often, only when the anxiety started to take control. He found that happening less and less when his son brought home a girl. She was a stunner, long blonde curls, a nice plump ass, a handful of tits and her mouth was just perfect, so perfect he wanted nothing more than to fill it. He imagined her on her knees between his legs, eyes begging him for his cock. Joel knew it was wrong thinking about his son's girlfriend like this but he heard the pathetic noises she made at night, heard how she faked it every time, he knew she deserves someone better. Someone who can fill her needs, someone who can fill her just right. Joel could feel himself getting hard just at the thought of her, then he heard the shouting begin again. He wondered what his selfish son had done this time, he tried not to listen in but couldn’t help hearing them.

“Mol I just don’t want you going somewhere without me.”

“Are you for real? You're going to Ibiza next month with the boys and we both know what’s going to happen there!”

“What’s going to happen then?”

“Your going to fuck some drunk whore and come crawling back here riddled with some disease!”

“Oh yeah and your not going to fuck the first guy you see!”

“Fuck you Oscar!”

Joel waited for one of them to storm out again. STOMP! STOMP! SLAM! There goes one of them. Joel stood in the kitchen and poured himself a glass of lemonade, he heard the sniffles walk down the stairs. She entered the kitchen, red puffy eyes and mascara running down her cheeks. Joel grabbed her a tissue and gave her a damp one to wipe the mascara off.

“Here darling, can I get you a drink or something?”

“No thank you Joel, I might just head home, get out of your way.”

“And what are you going to do when you get home, cry some more about that asshole.”

“That’s your son.”

“Still an asshole, stay here, help me smoke this joint.”

Molly liked that idea, she quite often would have a joint with Joel, it made her feel better when life got shit. They both headed out to Joel’s shed, Molly got herself comfortable in one of the arm chairs before Joel passed her the joint, she took a drag on it and instantly felt lighter. She needed this.

Joel and Molly sat together for almost an hour just talking about the most random shit before Joel mentioned his son.

“What’s he done this time?”

“Thinks if I go somewhere without him I’ll fuck someone like I’m some sorta slut.”

“Be honest with me, would you?”

“Probably not, my luck they’ll be worse than him.”

“Yeah I hear how bad he is.”

Molly felt her cheeks burning red.

“I don’t make a thing to listen to you two but sometimes I can’t help it you know, thin walls.”

“Well I guess there’s nothing much to hide, it’s not like any of it is real anyway.”

“I know you're faking it with him darling, you probably should find a real man to treat you right.”

“Oh yeah and where do I find one of them?”

“I could suggest a few.”

Was this it, was Joel finally done toying with Molly. She admits sometimes she does think about him taking her in the shed but he never got this serious with his flirting. It was always just a little joke here and there, a harmless touch on the hand, nothing like this. She could feel the air, thick with sexual tension as he leant forward to touch her knee. His big hands made her legs look tiny, his calloused fingers drawing circles on her thighs. He removed his hands and leant back in his chair.

“Climb on baby.”

She straddles him whilst his kisses move down to her breasts, he pulls her dress down to reveal her boobs. Molly’s hands begin to tug at Joel’s t-shirt as she places kisses on his neck. Her bra soon finds its way to the floor, he focuses his attention on her right breast, sucking her nipple until she lets out a moan. He moves to her left doing the same, whilst flicking her right nipple. Molly feels Joel’s erection growing under her, she begins feeling herself getting wetter, needing him more. Joel’s hand slowly makes its way down to her core. He pushes the bottom of her dress up to grab at her ass and feel how wet her pussy is.

“This all for me slut.”

“Yes Daddy.”

He picked her up and placed her on his table. He teases her by licking her folds slowly, he reaches her clit and sucks it gently. Molly becomes a whimpering mess begging him for more. Joel refuses to give in to her so he keeps teasing, he gets his thumb and starts tracing light circles on her clit. Joel brings two fingers to Molly’s mouth and shoves them into her mouth, she sucks on them for a while and when he thinks they are wet enough he removes them. He inserts them into Molly’s pussy, she hisses as she adjusts to his thick fingers, Joel doesn’t allow her much time before he is hitting her spot. Each time he gets it right, he curls his fingers in her and before she knows it the knot in her stomach is back and ready to explode.

“Please let me cum Daddy.”

“Cum for me”

He continues fingering her until he feels her walls clench around him, he knows now he needs to get the spot again. He keeps hitting the spot until her legs are shaking, she’s moaning and his fingers are dripping. He takes his fingers out of her and licks them.

“You taste so good”

Molly is speechless as she tries to come down from her high, but before she has time to respond Joel has her on the floor and is presenting his member to her. She is shocked at how big and thick he is, she doesn’t think she’s going to be able to take him. He grabs a fistful of hair and shoves his member into the back of her throat. She’s never had anyone this big and is struggling to not choke. Joel notices her struggling for breath and lets her set the pace. She licks his member up and down, tasting his precum before she takes him back in. Joel is moaning in his chair, his head thrown back, eyes closed, Molly knows he’s close. She sucks his tip and pumps the rest of him with both hands. Joel begins to get breathless, knowing he’s close.

“You gotta stop, I want to fill your pussy.”

Joel drags Molly to her feet and pushes her back onto his table. He brings her to the edge and lines himself to her entrance. He rubs his tip along her entrance, slowly he fills her tight pussy. He stays still for a while letting her adjust to his size before he moves out of her and back in, each time she’s still shocked by his size. Soon pleasurable moans fill the shed, Joel uses the wall behind to grip onto, the table is squeaking with each movement, Molly wraps her arms around his neck. Her hands grab his hair as she feels herself edging closer, Joel is panting above her, each thrust getting sloppier. Molly begins clenching around him, she feels herself lose control, she’s a moaning shaking mess underneath her boyfriend's father. Joel lets go after, riding out his own high with his head resting in the crook of her neck whilst he paints her walls white. They both just stay there for a while, panting and trying to catch their breath. Joel pulls out of her with a pop and helps her off the table, he then pulls her panties back on.

“I want you to walk home with my cum dripping from you. Want everyone to know that you're my slut.”

Molly nods her head in agreement, she is his now. She redresses herself before looking at her phone and noticing that she has an apology waiting to be read.

“I should go before he comes back.”

“Yeah good idea, if he doesn’t come back tonight maybe you can come back and let me fill that pretty mouth.”

Joel kisses her one last time and slaps her ass goodbye as she takes a step out into the world. Molly reads the text as she walks home.

I’ll make it up to you later bby ;) x

Would it be wrong to let him fuck his Dad’s cum into his girlfriend? Probably right.

[joelswritingmistress]

You Scare Me, Professor: Chapter 11

Summary: The reader is taking graduate classes at a local university in the wooded upstate New York. She is drawn to her professor, Dr. Joel Miller, though she is also inherently aware that he has something dark about him that she can't quite put her finger on. As the reader's attraction grows deeper, she has to decide whether to endure the danger or run away as fast as possible.

Pairing: Professor Joel Miller x f!reader

“You're back.” I pointed out the obvious with a warm smile. I was genuinely ecstatic to see him so soon. I just hoped he wouldn’t get the wrong idea about me being in his billiards room.

“I've got some, uh, good news and some terrible news.” He walked slowly in my direction in dramatic fashion. When he approached where I stood he ran his fingers through the hair that fell near my face and maintained the slightest smirk.

“I guess you're supposed to ask for the bad news first, right.” I was just relieved he hadn't asked what I was doing downstairs.

“The bad news is that school got shut down again on my ride in.” He hesitated, looking down and then back up at me. “Body of a another woman was found not far from the first one on campus.”

“What?” I felt my face grow hot and my stomach sank. I hadn’t realized I placed my hand on my cheek until Dr. Miller put a hand over mine. When our fingers entwined I squeezed his hand.

“Were there any details? Is this a serial killer?” I felt a lump form in my throat.

“Nah. You have to knock off a couple more to get that title.” He grew slightly more serious. “But, honestly, I don't think you should be alone - anywhere right now.”

I nodded in agreement. “ Okay.” I let out a deep breath. “What's the good news?”

He smiled and began stripping the tie from his shirt. ���I got to come home.. to you.”

I knew I was glowing. There was no sense in trying to hide it. I wasn't embarrassed or coy.

Dr. Miller's kisses would never get old. When he leaned down to touch his lips to mine, I melted into him with closed eyes and a thirst for his touch.

“Let me make you breakfast,” he whispered against my lips before pulling back a few inches.

“I should be making you breakfast.”

He tapped under my chin with his first two fingers. “What kind of host would I be if I allowed that.” Our lips met another time and he wandered around the island while offering me a seat facing a flat top stove.

Dr. Miller removed a pan from a lower cabinet and set it on the island. “After breakfast I'll take you down to check out another floor of the house.”

I swallowed hard and felt my body tense. The blueprint in the H.H. Holmes book immediately came to mind. I got a chill wondering what the maze portion of the house plans were. Without allowing my active imagination to run amuck, I simply nodded in agreement and smiled.

“Okay.”

Did he see me checking out his bookshelf? He has cameras doesn't he? He must have seen me with the blueprint.

Dr. Miller leaned across the way as far as he could. I met him halfway and pecked his lips before he whispered again. “I think you're going to like it.”

…

“Is there anything you can't do?” I asked, wiping the corner of my mouth with a napkin. “This might be the best French toast I've ever had.”

Dr. Miller sat beside me at the oversized kitchen island, smirking as he sipped on his coffee. He turned his body, slightly to face mine.. “My mother has all the best cooking secrets. I thankfully inherited them.”

Despite feeling full, I swirled the last bite around a pool of syrup on the plate and forked the final piece into my mouth.

“You should stay here,” Dr. Miller said, taking the conversation to a one-eighty, drawing my gaze back to his eyes. “Until all this blows over.”

“All what?”

“The murders.”

I felt guilty for letting that colossal event all but slip from my mind. “Oh, yeah.” I shook my head.

“You don't have to, but I would feel better knowing you're here than in a house with no alarm system that anyone could get into if they wanted to.” His eyes could have turned me to stone. They appeared as if they could quite literally pierce my mind and see what was going on inside of my head.

“Yeah. Yeah, okay.” I wanted to stay. “I’d love to stay.” I smiled, “I feel safe when I'm with you.”

Dr. Miller gave a nod and eyed the floor for a second or two before staring back up. “If this is all too much, let me know. I'm working on not being so demanding.”

“I don't mind that.” I shook my head and continued to look him directly in the eye and rested a hand on his knee. “And it's not too much.”

Dr. Miller looked down and back up. He lifted my hand, squeezing my fingers before placing a single kiss across my knuckles. “Let me show you the lower level.”

“Okay.” I pulled him in for a kiss. I simply couldn't help it. “Mmm.. you taste like syrup.”

Dr. Miller chuckled, sending vibrations across my lips. He stepped down off the high chair and held a hand out to help me down.

“So, you’ll stay?” he asked.

I nodded, “I’d love to.”

“Do you want to take the stairs or the old elevator?” He turned with a smirk, knowing how impressive that must have sounded - not that he needed to do anything else to impress me. That ship had sailed.

“I'll have to go with the old elevator.”

“Come on.” The warmth from his palm as towed me by the hand made me sigh. It was all so new to feel like this and every little touch felt like fireworks, even the innocent ones.

We wandered down a short hallway past another closed door, and hidden in a little nook was the elevator. I would have never guessed that was what it was until Dr. Miller gave a tug on a lever on the wall.

There was some clunking around from behind the wall and then suddenly the noise stopped and he reached for a worn, silver handle by the floor, yanking a rectangular door upward like a garage bay.

I glanced inside the small dark space. In the center of it was a rope that I could tell acted like a pulley system. When I glanced back at Dr. Miller, he nodded toward the opening.

“Get in.”

“In there?” My eyebrows must have raised as high as my hairline.

“We can both fit.”

When I hesitated he winked at me and crouched down to make his way inside. I took a deep breath and followed him. We were only an inch apart; face-to-face. There wasn't much room to move.

“You okay?” Dr. Miller asked.

I nodded, looking down as the floor creaked beneath us. “Is this going to hold our weight?”

“We’ll find out.” He closed the door and pressed a red button on the wall, leaving us with a fiery red glow inside.

The old elevator thrusted me forward, making my body collide with his. He caught me and I looked up at him, partially anxious, partially content. I felt like my emotions were constantly tugging me in different directions.

“Relax.” Dr. Miller held me against him and I felt his chest heave in a deep breath. “We can take the stairs back up later if this bothers you.”

I closed my eyes, inhaling his scent in the darkness as the side of my face pressed against his chest. My anxiety dropped with the gentle stroking of his fingertips down the center of my back.

Clunk. Clunk. Clunk.

We descended to what felt like the center of the earth before the elevator came to a halt. I only separated myself from Dr. Miller in order to let him yank the door upward again. He then motioned with his arm toward the exit.

“After you.”

I let out a deep sigh and stepped out onto white, tiled floors. And then my eyes extended beyond the tiles onto the teal, blue water that sat still in an oversized swimming pool.

Well, this is not what I expected, I thought.

I don't know what I expected, but it wasn't this. This wasn't the maze from the blueprint, or some secret room. It was a lavish, indoor swimming pool.

My eyes traveled to a jacuzzi at the far end of the pool as well as a sauna and a clear, see-through shower side-by-side.

When Dr. Miller’s hand touched my shoulder I jumped, making him pull back almost immediately.

I huffed a laugh and put a hand over my chest. “I'm sorry,” I said to him. “The ride down got my heart rate up.”

“I know this is probably a lot.” He nodded. “I'm sorry.”

“Sorry?” I shook my head and looked around. “You've been so generous. My brain just hasn't caught up yet to all of this.” I motioned with my hand around the room and looked at him. “Thank you.”

“For what?”

“For being.. such a good host.” I smiled. “For making me breakfast.. and taking care of me.”

“You can make it up to me by staying awhile.” He looked down and reached for my hand again.

“I can do that,” I said with a nod, adding, “No work until Monday.”

“And what are we going to do until then?” Dr. Miller's eyes squinted and he smirked when I giggled.

“This really is amazing,” I gushed as we walked beside the pool. “I feel stupid saying this but I feel like I'm in a movie.”

“I know you probably have questions,” he acknowledged, “Like how can I afford all of this.” Dr. Miller's eyes found mine.

“It’s none of my business.” I shook my head.

“I’ll explain,” Dr. Miller assured me, and then added, “One day.”

“Okay.” I nodded and managed a little smile, seeming to ease some of the tension that harbored in the muscles of his neck. It was enough for now. He unfastened the top few buttons of his shirt and his smile grew wider.

“Care for a swim?”

I wanted to, especially with Dr. Miller; but I had an embarrassing confession.

“Yes,” I told him and then eyed the body of water beside where we stood, “But I might have to stay in the low end.”

He chuckled and placed his hands on his hips, “Why’s that?”

“Because I.. I can’t really.. swim.”

Dr. Miller’s eyebrows raised, “You can’t swim?”

I shook my head. “Not really. I always used to just.. doggy paddle.. and then I’d kind of sink.”

He couldn’t help but chuckle at my childish revelation, and I giggled right along side him. I gave a shrug and he looked me up and down. Dr. Miller began to undo the rest of his shirt until the center gave a view of his chest. Without warning he reached for the zipper on the gray hoodie he’d given me to wear and slowly let it run down past my breasts toward my belly button before it finally separated down at my hips.

I chewed my bottom lip and swallowed hard as tingles ignited through mg body. I hadn’t put on a bra and he gave an appreciative sigh as he drank in my figure, clearly at least a little surprised that I hadn’t put the undergarment back on. “I can show you how.”

“How to what?”

Dr. Miller pushed a laugh out of his nose and a smile crept on his face. “Swim.” He continued to undress.

“Do you have a bathing suit?” I immediately felt like it was such a stupid question, and my face reddened. He was undressing. Why the hell would I ever want him to put clothes on.

He laughed again, heartier this time as he purposely began to undo the belt on his work pants. “In about thirty seconds I intend for the two of us to take our clothes off, and then not put them back on until Monday morning.”

I opened my mouth to speak and then glanced down as he unzipped the fly of his pants. Coming from anyone else, the line wouldn’t have worked. I probably would have laughed, or thought it was funny to some degree. But, shit, I was way too enticed and attracted to Dr. Miller to even crack a smile - because I knew he was serious. And him being serious would continue to fulfill my ever growing fantasy.

I don’t know why I was suddenly shy. He wasn’t. An aching pulse began to thump between my legs when he freed his heavy, semi-erect cock from his pants. I couldn't look away. A second later Dr. Miller was stepping out of his shoes as his pants fell down to his ankles. He then peeled off his socks and slunk into the pool before resting his arms on the side, staring up at me.

“I promise I’ll go slow,” he teased, looking me in the eye, “We’ll start in the shallow end.”

My heart was racing and I took a deep breath before separating the zip up sweatshirt with my fingertips and letting it fall onto the tile floor beside Dr. Miller’s clothes.

“That’s my girl.”

His girl. I loved that already. I shoved my pants down and was suddenly thankful for the dim lighting as I attempted to confidently pace the length of the pool like a runway until I reached the little staircase that descended beneath the water. My heart was racing, moreso with each step. I wasn't at all confident enough to freely walk in my bare skin, especially in front of someone else.

When I reached the far edge of the pool, relief filtered over me. It was like a giant, soothing bath; perfect temperature without a hint of a chill. I let out a sigh as Dr. Miller made his way to me, pulling me into his arms. All anxiety drifted away. All I could focus on was his touch.

I linked my arms around the back of his neck and we kissed a long, deprived-of-each-other kiss as if we hadn’t been in each other’s company for months. He was addicting.

“My life is in your hands,” I whispered, smiling as I did.

“I won’t let you go,” he said quietly back.

Dr. Miller opened up his eyes and kept them open as he pecked my lips once more, before taking my hands and repositioning them so they were on his broad shoulders. I then felt his hands pushing up at my torso just below my breasts so my body was horizontal. He held me firmly in place and began to tread water, edging backwards deeper into the pool.

“Kick your feet,” he encouraged amidst a series of short, choppy breaths, still holding my body for support.

I did as he suggested and fully recognized when we had left the area where I could stand. I huffed a breath, feeling my anxiety climb again and he tried to put the fire out with more encouragement.

“I got you,” Dr. Miller promised again. “Just focus on me and keep kicking.”

“Don’t let me go,” I said, managing a nervous laugh.

“I won’t.” He breathed heavier, the deeper we went but never faltered. I never felt like he wouldn’t be able to keep me afloat.

“Let me know if you’re tired.”

“I’m okay.” Dr. Miller continued to tread backward and I was tempted to look over my shoulder to see how far we’d gotten, but I didn’t. From what I could see of the other side, we were getting close to halfway across the pool.

I breathed in and out, allowing him to lead me safely across. When the other end finally came within an arm’s reach, Dr. Miller planted his back against it and pulled me the rest of the way to him.

My body floated back down so we were both vertical and he placed a hand on my lower back so I pinned him against the side.

“That was a little bit of a rush,” I admitted with a deep breath and a chuckle.

Dr. Miller smiled back. “I’d rather be here teaching you how to swim than teaching the classes down at Woodbridge.” He let out a deep exhale and we kissed again. When he flipped us so my back rested against the side of the pool I giggled a little more freely.

“Well, you got your wish,” I told him, finding his lips again a second later. I felt his intensity heighten as he aggressively penetrated my lips with his tongue as his hand cupped the left side of my buttocks.

“Mmm..” he huffed a breath into my mouth and his eyes were still closed as he spoke, “You have no idea.”

I rested a hand on the side of his face. “Yes, I do.”

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