#and the father/bottom(???) is just so fucking stupid

[youryanderedaddy]

Yandere! Best friend

Tw: female reader, emotional manipulation, jealousy, toxicity, crude language, implied parental abuse/neglect, implied drugs, non - consensual touching, i love manipulative men too much for my own good :((

Summary: Toxic, codependent friendship turns sour. But that's really no surprise.

You love Lauren's flat. You know he's renting it for cheap because his dad is friends with the landlord - and he doesn't give a fuck about the place. You know by the wrappers on the ground and the cigarettes stacked burnt inside the drawers, the stench of weed stuck to the ceiling for what feels like forever - and it's no surprise. Lauren doesn't care about all the good things in his life. And you know by the broken mirror pieces never to be swept away and the pills hidden behind the sink.

Still, you like his flat. The kitchen alone is bigger than your mom's entire house. The fridge is never empty - full from top to bottom, to the very brim, bursting with everything from your favourite chocolate candy to cheap vodka, from top shelf whiskey to pickled onions and fancy imported foreign items you have never seen before with your own two eyes. All colorful, all set in alphabetical order - he's a neat freak like that, and it's no surprise. The central heating never stops, and it's never cold. It's a land of dreams, and some days you wish you could stay forever.

***

"Haha, aw." You whisper to yourself, shoulders moving slowly up and down in sync. You try to stop the slight blush from reaching your face, but it's inevitable, truly. You barely notice when your best friend sneaks behind you, quiet as a snake ready to bite into your open vein.

"You look awfully happy." He observes with certain distaste, almost grimacing - you don't have to look up from your phone, you know him too well, he must be grimacing, and clicking his tongue. "Did the old hag kick the bucket or somethin'?" His lips twist in a cruel little smile as he wraps his arms around your frame - which never ceases to make you feel as if you have a tiny mischievous demon on your shoulder. "No, wait, don't tell me you're getting fired from the burger place. That's even better!" His eyes glow with childish joy as he teases you, and you can feel your cheeks heating up.

"N-no, it's nothing like that. It's really stupid..." You try to look anywhere but at him, fiddling with your phone nervously. "Just go back to reading your book and leave me alone, jerk." You attempt to joke back, but your anxiety gives you away. It's foolish to lie to him to begin with - he's known you for years. He's known you since your father died, since your mother stopped caring whether you're alive or not. He's known you since you broke down in his arms for the first time. He's known you in nothing but smeared mascara and torn bottomless pockets, though empty wallets; he's known you, body and soul (and lips too, all those years ago). So of course he knows that you're lying.

"What is it?" He humms playfully leaning over your shoulder, chin resting on top of your breast. You feel the sweat sticking to his neck (was he in a fight again?), the heavy colognue coming off his black shirt as he tries to read the words on your screen. You quickly turn off your phone, and Lauren pouts, pretending to be upset. "What's so damn important that you can't even tell your best friend?" His voice is light and airy, privy, overwhelmingly sweet and sticky like burnt caramel.

You open your mouth, but no speech comes out. You feel embarrassed. You don't even know where to start. Then the man raises an eyebrow expectantly, eyes prompting Well?, growls in irritation quickly after, and reaches for a new thin cigarette, all in the same breath. He's always been like this - quick to set aflame. Impossible to predict. Hard to resist. Soft, sometimes. In your arms, mostly.

"Fine." He snaps at last, brows furrowed like an angered father as he stands up to get his keys from the table, heading towards the door. "Do whatever the fuck you want. It's not like I'm the only person in this ugly, shitty world who, like, dunno, gives a fuck about yo-"

"You'll just mock me!" You squeak out, crossing your arms together - regretting even laughing in the first place. Then, even more quietly. "If I tell you."

Lauren stills completely, slowly turning back towards you. Your heartbeat speeds up even more, if possible.

"What the fuck happened?" He remains serious, although slightly less aggravated now. "You know I hate this cryptic bullshit you do. Just speak up, you're not a child anymore." He gets closer to you, pointing at your chest. "M not your mommy, ain't gonna hit ya if you say the wrong thing."

You take a deep breath, eyes focused on the cigar hanging off his mouth - together with the sport hoodie and the cheap black beanie he looks like a small fish delinquent, and you have to stop yourself from laughing. But then you remember why you even fought in the first place, and you feel flustered all over again.

"I met someone." You blurt out in a rush to get it over with, averting your eyes to the TV still playing somewhere in the background. The sound has been turned to low - he says the commercials make him want to scratch his head from the inside.

"Huh?" His cigarette falls off. Ash all over the dirty wooden tiles.

"I met someon-

"Yes, I heard you the first time." Lauren pronounces slowly, lips stretching into his oh - so characteristic smile again. "I just couldn't believe it." He stomps over the half lit cigar, burning a hole into the floor. It doesn't look out of order with all the filth. "Who would have known. Heh." He stares at you for entirely too long - until you squirm with discomfort. "Who's the lucky guy?"

You want to ask him why it's so unbelievable for you to meet someone - but it's hard to find the words to. At the same time you know he's just joking, he'd never do anything to hurt you. He's just... rough around the edges.

"You don't know him." Warm heat travels through your body as you think about your secret admirer. "We met online."

"Of course you did." Your friend scoffs, rolling his eyes at you. Then he claps sardonically, lighting up another cigarette. He must have hundreds, if not thousands lying around. "Well, congratulations, princess. You may finally get pounded like a real bitch in heat. Isn't that nice?" The more you look at him, the more crooked his smirk seems to get.

"You're fucking disgusting." You hiss, standing up - ready to collect your things and leave.

You hate when he gets like this.

"Oh, not so fast. We're still talking, baby. Tell me everything." Lauren grabs your elbow, pulling you in with ease, and if he wasn't your best friend, you'd be terrified by how strong he is despite his seemingly slim build. "Does he tell you that you're beautiful? That you're just the most precious thing in the entire world?" His voice lowers down to a whisper in your ear. "Or is he even less creative with his lies?"

You pull away, eyes widening with disbelief.

"He's not like this! How can you even say all th-" You blurt out incoherently, but he stops you in the tracks with a single sharp glare. "He's not like that?" The man snorts in a rather nasty way, pulling you back in while you're too shocked to resist. "You're even dumber that I thought." His eyes narrow to two slits bleeding bile. "Did he fuck you already? Is that why you're acting so naive? You get some mediocre dick and now you're all star - eyed." He laughs with unhinged madness, orbs mudded with pure craze.

Before you can respond, your phone buzzes. You both stare at it for what feels like eternity - but he's faster, always. Ever since you were children. And as you're jumping away, fighting with teeth and nail to get your phone back, he's reading away at your most intimate thoughts and feelings.

"I feel like I've known you for ages." He reads out loud, trying to imitate the voice of the sender. "You must be my other half. I'd love to hold you and cherish you forever." The mocking nasal tone sinks with each word, and once he reaches "forever", it's almost silent. His hands are shaking, eyes blurry. The ink drowns the screen as if trying to get under his own fingernails.

And when he smashes the phone in the ground, it's really no surprise.

"Lauren!" You gasp, falling down to collect the pieces, grabbing at the broken plastic with feral grip. But there's just too many of them, and not enough glue in the whole wide world.

"I should have known you were up to no good in that miserable house. That crack-whore mother of yours is putting these... ideas in your head." He chuckles coldly, staring at you from aboving with unreadable expression - and from so low on the ground he looks like the sun. "She made you believe someone could actually love... you."

He suddenly squats down to your level.

"News-fucking-flash, sweetheart." His fist wraps around your hair, pulling at will. It burns your scalp, but you can't look away, hypnotized by the motion of his lips, the silky cruelty of his voice teasing your ears. "Nobody loves you. Nobody will ever love you - not your poor dead bum of a father, not that bitch you call mother and certainly not this fool you think you love. How could they love you? You're a fucking mess!"

He's laughing at the tears slowly pouring down your cheeks. You're so beautiful when you cry.

"How could they love you?" He repeats softly, stroking your cold wet cheek with two slender fingers - the same fingers that always dry your tears. Then his lips touch your eyelids, slowly, torturously - the same lips that always bring you to tears. "They wouldn't know what to do with you. Such a fragile girl." His nose rubs against your collarbone and suddenly you're drowning in your sadness like a sailor lost at sea. "Such a fragile, broken little girl."

And yet you still love Lauren's apartment, it's never cold, and it's always silent. So silent you can hear your own heartbeat - and so lonely you can taste your tears on his lips.

[yaoi-cicle]

Listen, I THOUGHT I was the type of person who could read anything. I have read BL that are known for being dark and gritty. Pearl Boy, Love Me Not, Mary Jane, Killing Stalking. But Jesus Christ, something about that Dear Teddy Bear Manhwa….

[cherrygirlfriend]

stepbro!rafe using a vibrator on reader

warnings: smut, stepcest, DUBCON, blackmail MDNI wc: 1.5k i've never written stepbro rafe before but i got this idea and wanted to give it a try??? so i have no idea how this is going to turn out but hopefully halfway decent

"rafeee, can you get my charger? it's in the top drawer of my nightstand!" you called up from downstairs, making your stepbrother roll his eyes.

"fucking get it yourself!"

"the food's gonna burn!"

despite you being on the first floor, rafe could hear the whiney tone in your voice, and almost picture the way your lip bottom lip would be pulled in with that despicable pout that managed to get you everything from both his father and your mother, and so, begrudgingly he opened the door to your bedroom.

he rounded the corner of your four-poster bed, bending to open the top drawer of your nightstand, spotting your charger on top of a bunch of your other shit, and letting out a small scoff as he threw the charger onto the bed.

but when rafe spotted a small key peeking out from underneath some stupid fashion magazine, his interest was piqued; he didn't even need to pick it up to know what it went to. it was the bottom drawer of your nightstand, him having an identical nightstand in his own bedroom, and knowing the almost scandalous contents of his own bottom drawer made him curious as to what you could be hiding in yours.

he picked it up, observing it for a moment before slamming the top drawer closed, swiftly putting the key in the lock and twisting it open. when he pulled it open, at first it appeared as if nothing was in it, but he knew better. he pulled the false bottom off, throwing it onto the bed, and when rafe's eyes fell onto what was in your nightstand, he couldn't help the grin on his face.

some of the contents were pretty tame; a pile of notebooks that he assumed were your old diaries, some weed, and some adderall that he knew you used to pop like fucking skittles back when you were in high school and had a big test coming up.

but his eyes widened slightly when he spotted the bottle of lube and the small, pale pink bullet-shaped vibrator; sure, he knew you had your vices and you weren't an innocent girl like you led your mother to believe, but you'd always been kind of a prude; you'd never let any of your old boyfriends mark you up even back when you'd been in high school like most girls that were too horny to even realize, and even now, he saw your face flush whenever there was a fucking sex scene on television and you conveniently looked down at your phone for the duration of it.

what really struck his eye was the stack of polaroids he knew you'd taken with the instax mini camera ward had gotten you for christmas, and when he picked up the stack and turned them around, only the first image was enough to cause his jaw to slack slightly.

it was taken on a timer, and you were kneeling on your bed, your hand splayed on your neck, wearing a sheer pink lingerie dress, lacy pink panties covering your pussy while your nipples were covered by red, heart-shaped pasties.

he went through the polaroids, his eyes widening and his shorts tightening with each picture, shots of you wearing different lingerie sets, ones of you looking over your shoulder seductively while you were kneeling on the bed, showing off your ass in a pair of thongs, pictures taken where your tits were soaped up and just covered by your arms, ones-

"rafeee! did you find it?!"

he chuckled at your called-out question, so unaware of the things he had found, putting the polaroids back in the bottom drawer, "yeah yeah!" he called back out, but as he was starting to put the false bottom back in, he got an idea.

and so, before he put the false bottom back in the drawer, he slipped the bullet-shaped vibrator into his pocket.

you could feel your heartbeat in your throat; you had no idea where it could've gone, having used it literally that morning. even though you remembered putting it in its usual spot in the bottom drawer of your nightstand, it was nowhere to be seen.

you thought that maybe you'd accidentally left it on your bed; your bedding, now on the floor. maybe it was on your top drawer instead, the contents dumped on the floor next to it. now you were going through your bookshelf, your teeth biting into your bottom lip so harshly you could taste blood in your mouth.

it wasn't only that you didn't want anyone to find it; it was also that you were so fucking sexually frustrated. you'd already gotten yourself off in the morning, but still, everything even slightly sexual had caused you to press your legs firmly together to seek some relief.

you nearly jumped out of your skin when you heard someone clear their throat, and when you turned to look at who it was, you were faced with your stepbrother, a smug smile on his face.

"looking for something?" rafe said, holding up the pink device you'd been looking for, your eyes widening when they landed on it

"did you go through my stuff you psycho?!" you stomped to him, rafe holding the vibrator over his head and out of your reach when you tried grabbing it. "give it to me!"

"i don't think that's how you speak to someone when you want something from them." rafe tsked, his jaw clenched as he pressed you against your bedroom wall, his hand on your chin, making you look up at him, "see, you're supposed to ask nicely. didn't mommy teach you that?"

"what do you want, rafe?"

"you know, when i found this little thing," rafe tapped the small vibrator against your cheek, "i found some really interesting pictures." he grinned, your eyes widening, your heartbeat picking up, immediately knowing the pictures he was talking about.

rafe turned on the vibrator, letting it travel down your chest, until coming in contact with your clothed nipple, slowly, involuntarily pebbling under the vibrations, your stepbrother's breath hot on your face, an obvious tent in his sweatpants. "it would be such a shame if your mom saw them, you know?"

"they don't show my face..." you said with a small sniffle, your eyes starting to sting with tears, meanwhile you felt your cunt starting to get slick with arousal from the stimulation to your nipple.

"aw, she might be stupid but she's not an idiot. you really think she won't recognize that pretty little body? all those pretty marks and dots on your body. are you willing to risk it?"

rafe's hand started traveling lower, the vibrations trailing down your ribs and abdomen, causing you to tense up your muscles as you spoke, your teeth gritting together, "what do you want?"

"to own you."

rafe had you pinned down on your bed, your hands gripping onto your already crumpled sheets; your lacy panties clinging to your pussy, thoroughly soaked in your arousal, and you knew they were beyond saving.

your flimsy top had been pushed up to reveal your breasts, and he'd been using the vibrator on your poor pussy for an hour now, and somehow it had been the most excruciating yet exhilarating hour of your life.

"i can't..." you whined as rafe brought the vibrator to your clit, and even though it was covered by the soaking fabric, it felt as if there wasn't any barrier at all, the stimulation bringing you closer and closer to your third orgasm. "'s too much... feels too good…"

rafe let out a cruel laugh at that, only bringing up the volume of the vibrator, pressing it even firmly against your clit, causing you to let out a yelp that turned into a moan, roughly grabbing at the fat of your breast as he brought his face closer to your face.

"you're gonna take it." he smiled, pressing a small kiss between your breasts, before standing up. "keep it in place." rafe commanded, and you brought your hand to weakly hold the vibrator at your clit while he walked around your room, in search for something.

"what... what are you doing?" you mumbled, your mind hazy from the pleasure coursing through your body, your eyes widening when rafe turned around, holding your polaroid camera. "r-rafe?"

rafe walked towards the bed, turning on the camera as he kneeled over you, swatting your hand away from the vibrator, replacing it with his own. "this is gonna be your best picture yet."

before you could protest, you were blinded by the flash, trying to use your arm to cover up your eyes, the picture slowly coming out of the camera, and rafe set it down next to you on the bed while it slowly changed from black to a picture of your body, showing your bared tits and the soaked panties that had molded to the shape of your pussy, rafe's large, ringed hand holding the vibrator against your clit.

rafe turned off the vibrator, throwing it onto the bed, grabbing the photo, and shoving it into the pocket of his sweatpants, before leaning closer to your ear.

"i own you." he whispered roughly, before standing up and leaving your room.

[ridher]

thinking about s2 rafe & just want to comfort him so bad

you knew something had been off with your boyfriend. with the way he was constantly running around town and refusing to tell you anything about these 'errands', it was concerning.

it wasn't worrying because you thought he was doing anything disloyal, but you knew the immense amount of pressure he was constantly under thanks to his father and you just wanted rafe to be alright — even if that meant you weren't his number one priority for once.

not expecting much, you invited yourself over to tanneyhill when rafe had failed to respond to your string of texts. it felt stupid, but you just wanted to see the boy after being pretty much alone for a few days without his presence.

forgoing knocking, you step inside the familiar foyer leading into the mansion, shoes scuffing across the floor where your yoga pants flow over.

the sound of distant talking and footsteps echo through the house, but it doesn't deter you from continuing your path up the stairs to where you know rafe's bedroom is — admittedly the only place you've memorized how to get to.

looking up from your feet when you reach the second floor, you're met with the sight of ward who seems equally as surprised at the sight.

"hey, sweetheart. good to see you." keeping it brief, he gives your arm a squeeze before passing by and flashing what you infer to be a guilty smile.

soon, you're at rafe's door and suddenly don't feel so sure about the decision to come over — hesitating in the hallway.

when your hand reaches for the knob, your name is mumbled behind you. startled, your hand jerks away and you turn to look over your shoulder — now completely turning around and relaxing when you see your boyfriend.

his tired eyes and slouched posture along with the stressed ruffle of his sandy curtain bangs reveal his state of emotion, visibly breaking your heart as you step forward.

without hesitation, you lean up on your toes to wrap your arms behind his neck and pull him into a hug. as much as he hates to admit it, you know better than anyone how he craves physical touch.

rafe lets out a shaky exhale and practically melts into your body, arms snaking around your waist and combining the shape of your body with his own.

his head drops to your shoulder and buries in the crook of your neck, breath warm and uneven against your skin. bringing a hand to rest at the bottom of his scalp, you lightly drag your nails across it — acrylics grown out from how long it'd been since he took you out to get them done.

you're rarely the one initiating any kind of contact, but it comes naturally when he's right there, so vulnerable in front of you.

"i love you," you assure him, not expecting a response as you just wanted to let him know someone was on his side, no matter how fucked up he convinces himself he is.

"love you too, baby." it's deep and muffled against your body, sending a shiver from the contact all the way down your back.

you spend the rest of the day in his company, curled up in bed and occasionally wandering about the house. it's mostly silent since he still keeps all his troubles to himself, but being in one another's company is enough for both of you.

falling asleep in his arms and nothing's changed, he holds you as if you'll slip away with his face buried in your hair, hands ghosting over every part of your body — indulging in a softer show of affection he deems as weak.

but at this moment, he doesn't seem to care. all worries are saved for the following morning when you wake up once again in an empty bed.

[crushmeeren]

any thoughts about how touya would eat you out? i cannot stop thinking about his tongue piercing..

Nor can I, friend, nor can I. /ᐠ - ˕ -マ

Master List Link

⋆｡ ﾟ ☁︎｡ ⋆ FEM READER ｡ ﾟ ☾ ﾟ ｡⋆ ｡

Touya is very…. talented when it comes to eating pussy, to say the least.

He’s had a lot of time to kill over the years. Seeing as how nobody knew he was alive after he essentially became his Father’s human sacrifice to whatever deity he believed would grant his delusional dreams of having a child with the perfect quirk to surpass the number one hero.

But he digresses…..

Needless to say, Touya has had a lot of sex. Men and women alike, but he’d confess that he just gets this….thrill, eating pussy. Women are always, without exception, so soft, so fucking warm, and his cock never fails to fill out thickly when he so much as pictures the sweet, high pitched whines he coaxes from them.

And so, it’s really no different now that he’s dating you. He can come to you whenever he craves it, whenever his mouth starts to fill with saliva when he daydreams about eating you out.

Currently, Touya’s got your ass at the edge of, what used to be, a gaming chair. It’s comfortable enough, and Touya likes it when you gawk at him while he flicks his tongue against your clit in a way that you can feel in your fucking toes.

He pushes your thighs as wide as they can go, until your muscles burn, and his searing tongue parts your lips with a few upward dragging motions. Heat blisters up your spine.

“Touya!” Your voice pitches higher, and his name gets caught in your throat when the flat of his tongue creeps up along your clit, the barest hint of that metallic ball of jewelry kissing your skin before he leans back.

“What baby?” He coos condescendingly, pretty blue eyes halfway shut as he peers up at you from where he sits on his knees on the floor. He’s naked too, and he looks so hot you can’t stand it. “My ring feels so good on your pussy, yeah? You want me to heat it up?” His voice is an insufferable amount of husky and you clench around nothing. You nod eagerly.

“Then fucking say it, whore,” he snarls, palms heating dangerously on your inner thighs.

You lace your fingers through his snowy white hair with a gasp, yanking violently as you toss your head back until he moans in the back of his throat.

“Yes! Heat it up, please. It’s so good Touya,” you plead, eyes flashing open to stare down at him again. Your gaze trails the movement of his fingers as he circles his cock and jerks himself off lazily.

“So you’re not that fucking stupid after all, good girl.”

Then, Touya is moving forward with fervor. He centers that devilish tongue ring on your clit and draws steady, unrelenting circles until your thighs start to twitch. The metal is heated to the point it teeters on this side of white hot pain, and you fucking love it.

The corners of Touya’s mouth curl upward in a sly smile, tongue still swirling firmly, and his pupils are dilated wildly, making him seem manic. He pulls your clit between his lips and sucks gently. The muscles in your lower stomach tighten and all of a sudden you’re about to cum.

You cry out to him, begging him, and he drags the pad of his thumb from his free hand over your pussy before slipping two fingers inside with zero effort.

He doesn’t relent the rhythmic sucking with his lips, flicking his tongue occasionally. The rough texture of his bottom lip adds to the whirlwind of sensations and he pumps his fingers unhurriedly, curling them each time. Your pussy clings to him like it never wants to let go.

Stars are bursting behind your eyelids when you cum, mouth dropped open in a silent scream as your entire body tenses up. Touya works you through it mercilessly until you’ve deflated in the chair, releasing his hair.

He pulls away with a Cheshire grin, lips shiny and Touya decides to leave his fingers inside you for the time being.

“You’re gonna cum for me again, pretty little whore, and then I’ll let you sit on my fucking cock like I know you’re drooling to do.”

You agree easily and, in the end, Touya has to put you on your back because your legs are too much like jelly to ride him.

[hannibals-favourite-meal]

Hi 👋🏻 Lou!! Congratulations 🎊🎉 on 6k!!

So how about Arranged Marriage w/ Simon?

Again congrats to 6k 🙃💛🦡

.⋆｡Give 'Em Hell｡⋆.

Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley x plus size reader

Your parents think you need to get married and settle down, so they called in a favour. A big military man of a husband might do you some good just not in the way they think

Warnings: arranged marriage, sort of sugar baby/daddy relationship, misogynist parents, future revenge, mention of hook-ups WC: 986

6k Follower Celebration Bingo

Library- @hannibals-favourite-meal-library

You often wondered about the true scope of your family’s stupidity. Sure, there were moments in your childhood where you had the vivid thought that no one could be as ignorant and blatantly idiotic as your parents were but somehow, they had absolutely hit rock bottom of moronic decisions.

“What the fuck do you mean I’m getting married?” Your mother gasped.

“Watch your tone young lady, that is no way to speak to your parents.” She scolded as your father’s expression hardened. There was no question that your parents were ‘traditional’ believing that women were less than their male counterparts in every way but while they had constantly lectured you on those beliefs, they hadn’t gone so far as to inflict them upon you, until now at least. They even helped you and encouraged you through college!

“You’ve been running wild long enough, it’s time for you to do your duty,” you fought the urge to roll your eyes, “We’ve let you chase your silly little dreams but you’re getting older and your clock is ticking.” Your father clicked his tongue and reached for the tumbler of expensive bourbon on the table beside his recliner.

“We’ve picked out a good man!” Your mother chirped from her place on the expensive love seat next to your father, “He’s highly decorated in the military, he can give you a good life.”

“I don’t give a shit about that! I’m not marrying anybody! Period!” You snarled. Anger curled in your gut, turning your tone sour.

Your father’s glass slammed down onto the wood, making your mother flinch. “You will marry him or I will make your life a living hell. I make one call and no one will want to hire you, not even as a fucking garbage collector. You know the connections I have. Suck it up and be a responsible adult for once.” 

——————

“I don’t want a husband.” The man across from you made a sound that you thought might have been a laugh. Simon, as you had learned from your parents, was a Lieutenant in a special ops task force. Never married, no family to speak of and copious amounts of money, your mother had gleefully added as she literally dragged you into the official-looking building where you would be meeting your future spouse.

He was by all means, an intimidating man. Almost 6 and a half feet tall and wearing a stupid balaclava with a skull on it, he looked more fitting being in a slasher movie than in a conference room negotiating marriage stipulations. His bulky, tattooed arms were crossed over his chest, somehow making him seem even bigger to you, as he leaned back in his chair.

“I don’t want a wife.” Your eyebrows furrowed at that. 

“Then why are you here?” 

His massive shoulders rolled back as his head tilted, cracking his neck. “Same as you— orders.” You hummed under your breath and forced your gaze away from his tanned arms and up to his eyes. He was obviously a quiet man but in no way did that intimidate you. He seemed more pissed off at your father who had so rudely guided (shoved) you into the room than he did at you.

You cleared your throat. “I won’t fuck you.” This time, his laugh was more discernible. His broad chest rumbled with the sound.

“‘M not expecting you to, not unless you beg,” you made a face at him but Simon continued, “I get deployed most of the time, I’d just like someone to take care of the house and spend my money.”

“So I would be your sugar baby.” He shrugged.

“If that’s what ya wanna call it. Do what cha want, I don’t care. We just need to show up to official events together.” 

You planted your elbows on the table between you and stared into his brown eyes. Simon didn’t waver. “So you wouldn’t have an issue with me getting a job?”

“None.” He answered quickly.

“Going back to school?”

“I’d happily pay for it.” You raised an eyebrow before a devious smirk crossed your lips.

“Get a lover?” His eyes blazed while he mirrored your position, the swivel chair beneath him groaning with his mass as he leaned forwards, planting his massive palms onto the table.

“I’d like to see you try.” Against your will, heat raced through your body, setting your nerves alight with the thrum of arousal.�� Simon’s mask shifted and you imagined that he was smirking at you. 

You tamped down the feeling of wetness between your soft thighs, forcing yourself to remember exactly why you were in this situation in the first place. “You’re a lot different than I was expecting.”

He huffed. “So are you. Thought I was getting stuck with some bratty trust fund baby who’s never even set foot in a thrift store.”

“I thought you were gonna be a crusty old man who wanted me to put out so he could feel better about his broken dick and receding hairline.” Silence settled between you before suddenly, you both broke into peels of laughter, an oppressive weight suddenly lifted from the room. 

You were relieved; Simon seemed at least like a decent human being if nothing else and it appeared that you could continue living your life, although without the occasional hook up here and there. But considering how handsome you presumed your almost husband to be, maybe it wouldn’t be such a bad thing.

“I guess we both got lucky didn’t we?” You wiped the tears from your eyes.

“Or just benefitting from the sheer incompetence of the people that thought this was a good idea.” You rolled your eyes at him.

“So, should we do this then?” You asked. Simon rose from his seat and offered you his hand, which you didn’t hesitate to take. As he pulled you to your feet, he uttered:

“Let’s give ‘em hell.”

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[n0cturnalp1g]

Tale As Old as Time

Summary: Prince Daemon Targaryen hated everyone and anyone that has the name Hightower in it. But there was an exception to it, the oldest sister of Alicent and Gwayne Hightower, the Wretched Hightower as she was infamously known for. But Daemon was on a mission to ensure she will be called by any other name–even if it means putting his own as a result. Characters: Daemon Targaryen x Female!Reader!Hightower. Otto Hightower. Alicent Hightower. Viserys Targaryen. Word Count: 1,360 Chapter Warnings: Not Edited. Slight Profanities. Otto being Otto. Author's Note: Enemies to Lovers anyone?

Masterlist | Series Masterlist

Prince Daemon Targaryen knew how much of a cunt Otto Hightower was. It goes for Alicent and Gwayne too. But somehow, such disdain and loathing cannot be said about you. His exception as he fondly calls you.

You were known as the Wretched Hightower that did not stay long in Oldtown for causing far too much destruction and the only way for your father to ever control you was if you were close to him–or rather have the Kingsguard and even the City Watch constantly under surveillance of you.

Hence, this was the very reason why Daemon was so fond of you. How even his most skilled City Watch or even the Kingsguard themselves was no match to your resourcefulness and how easy it was to evade each and every single one of them at night as you spent your nights in Fleabottom, away from the constant control of the Keep.

“Here you are again, it seems.”

Daemon looked at you, defiance all too evident in your eyes as you looked right at him. One too many run-ins with each other, the surprise has finally worn off your face every single time he catches you strolling around. But never once did the dagger in your grasp ease away in the numerous instances of seeing you.

“I’m sure at this point you are just following me, Your Grace.” You spoke, no sense of decorum or politeness unlike your sister. You were very much a woman with a mind of your own not controlled by your father.

“I am simply doing my job. Somehow, my patrolling the safety of King’s Landing also has an additional responsibility of making sure the Wretched Hightower does not cause a scene.”

At the mention of the moniker, your eyes darken and your knuckles turned white as your grip on your dagger tightened. If he pushes you further, there might even be a chance you might make use of it–on him more specifically.

“I apologize for adding to your responsibilities, Lord of Flea Bottom.” You curtsied mockingly in front of him to earn a huge grin on his mouth. He loved this, you play as hard as he does, every single time, you will not let anyone else win if you had a chance. Never one to allow anyone else to have the last word.

But the Rogue Prince wasn’t known for his patience, more known for his pettiness.

With a nod, he moved quicker than you anticipated and you were lifted into his arms before moving until you were now on his shoulder. An annoyed scream escaped your lips, your dagger was taken before you could make use of it.

“Let go of me you stupid fucking lizard!”

“My, does your father not teach you manners, or respect?” He teased as he began his journey back to the Keep, anticipating what that Cunt Otto would do now. “I could even cite you for attempted regicide.”

“I don’t give a damn about your laws, Targaryen! Let go of me!” You continued to scream, your fist hitting his armored back. He was genuinely surprised by how unmoved you were by the metal he wore–but then again anger and spite was the best remedy for pain but he was all the more certain you will be feeling the damage was all was said and done.

“I’m sure your father would love to hear you and your opinions of the law in the Seven realms.” He chuckled, ignoring the eyes that had now come glued to all of them.

He ensured even in your already embarrassing state, you were decent. The hand holding onto your dagger also ensured your skirt did not show more than you intended to.

“Make sure you rest well, the next time I see you I’ll make sure to slit your throat and bathe in your blood.”

“A woman after my own heart.” Daemon continued to point out with a wicked grin as he walked further away from the chaos of Fleabottom. “I can only hope you still have that fire when we return to the Keep, Lady Hightower.”

Daemon only knew what your father would think of this situation, more so when he was once again responsible for taking you back without harm on a single hair on your pretty little head.

“You continue to bring shame upon the family name, you insolent brat!”

You have been so used to your father’s scolding, but the only difference with this time was the fact that he wasn’t alone. Daemon Targaryen had made a spectacle out of you, bringing you into the throne room in front where your father, the King’s Hand stood, arms crossed and veins on the brink of popping.

In the throne room also resided a few key figures in the parading embarrassment that was Daemon’s own making.

The King himself, amused as much as he was tired of your antics sat on the throne, the grin openly evident on his face but no one was to question him for his emotions for he was afterall the King.

Your younger sister and the King’s wife, Alicent, was also present. Ever the lapdog of your father was also disappointed in you as you strived for your own freedom–something she did not have since agreeing to marry the King.

Then there was the man that was responsible for your predicament. Prince Daemon Targaryen. A smirk all the more evident on his face, victorious for one upping you in this imaginary war you somehow waged with the Rogue Prince since your nightly escape.

“Are you done, father?” You inquired.

“This is the reason why I should have married you to that Lord in the south!” Otto continued, voice growing louder now.  “I can’t control you, your Uncle could not control you, your husband might control you as he should!”

You scoffed. You knew as much as he did that there was no Lord in the south. His first plan of many was for you to marry the King the first moment that the late Queen was burned in the Hill of Rhaenys. But as Wretched as you were known in the realm, you still had common decency. You will never marry a mourning man who lost his wife and child for the sake of a better standing for the family. The same could not be said about your younger sister, now married and now carrying her second child with the King.

“I’d rather be a Septa than marry a man that will never keep up with me, Lord Hand.” You spat.

You glared at the chuckle that escaped the Rogue Prince’s lips.

“I think there will be a much better way to handle this dispute, Lord Hand.” King Viserys pointed out, the fun of the situation now gone and it left nothing more than a family dispute that he should not be a part of.

“Nothing could control her, no Kingsguard nor City Watch can tame her, and I am having second thoughts of throwing her into sept instead.”

You rolled your eyes. He never truly cared about you, your brother, or your sister. It was always like this with him. If he finds no use out of you, he will throw you out like a used toy. It was a cycle that you were all the more familiar with. Lived through it for years, long before either Alicent or Gwayne was born.

“Perhaps I could be of assistance.” Daemon began.

All heads turned to the man, your heart lurched from your chest as if already having an idea of what he had in mind. The games this bastard was playing.

“I am in need of a new wife…as you may all know Lady Rhea Royce has recently passed and our union did not bless us with any children.” He continued as the grin on his lips grew wider, all the more seeing his brother, the King convinced with the idea.

“No!” For once you and your father was in agreement with something, who would have ever thought it would be to oppose a man you had both equally despised–but for reasons far different from one another. 

[bambiesfics]

Opposites Attract Theory - Ellie x Bimbo!reader

Ellie was everything you weren’t. She was a girl in brown plaid button ups, who could only find comfort in wearing her father’s oversized chocolate suede jacket.  She could hardly be described as sweet or adorable, not like you were. Ellie was reserved, masculine, angry, and traumatized. Ellie smoked cigarettes to keep her nerves at bay, cut chunks off of the ends of her hair when they got too long and feminine, spent all her money on tattoos if she wasn’t spending it on you, wore old men’s weathered leather shoes, painted her nails with the cheapest black polish just so they could chip on purpose, and tucked her strap into her pants because it just felt right. No more, no less.

All of those descriptions she’d agreed with, but just one word was missing. The word ‘provider.’ The aspect of her character that she prided herself on the most, was being your provider.

  You were her opposite, the light to her shadow. You were naive, sweet, bubbly. Your eyes were big and curious, and you asked every question earnestly. You bounced around in your cute little outfits. Low cut tops with your tits spilling out, dresses where the wind exposed the chub of your ass, and skirts so short they showed your plump little pussy, eating up your g-strings; outfits that made you easy prey for leering. You got your nails done, and showed them off by grabbing Ellie’s thick cock with both hands while sucking hard on her tip. You bent over to pick up dropped items because your acrylics made you clumsy, and squealed when your girlfriend smacked you square on your ass. You got little Brazilian waxes, and sent pictures with a smiley face saying “still a bit sensitive but do you think it looks pretty Els?” And you were shocked that she pounded you into the headboard later that day, until your vagina was puffy. You sat on Ellie’s lap when she beckoned you too, but never quite figured out that it was because she wanted you to feel her erection sandwiched between your ass. You pranced outside in thin little pink shirts that showed the outline of your plump nipples and areola, and started pouting when Ellie draped her jacket on you before she let you step out of her car. 

You pouted about how your girlfriend was “too overprotective” but you were a ditzy, trusting airhead, who had the IQ of a care bear. Ellie didn’t have a choice, you were too stupid for your own good. Too sugary and sweet, sissy and girly. 

  You needed a guy like Ellie to pick up extra shifts for you, so you could go on your little shopping sprees, to buy lip gloss and candy. You needed a guy like Ellie to come everywhere with you, so creepy fucks would know that the pretty little bimbo had a gaurd dog next to her who would snap, snarl and bite them. You needed a guy like Ellie to run her tongue around your little pink hole, twitching and hungry, just to prepare that tiny hole as a warm place for her cock to sink into right after. Her balls often found themselves smacking against the bottom of your puffy neglected clit. You needed a guy like Ellie to indulge your little airhead babble, your piss poor attempt at conversation or even saying a coherent sentence. God knows you could yap for hours and say nothing of note, nothing anyone would perceive as highbrow or thought-provoking, but Ellie loved it. Loved watching those plump pink lips smack together to talk about dumb little girl topics like  “love island” or how “your pinks don’t match” or “beauty guru drama.”

And Ellie loved to indulge that clingy, pouty, needy little attitude you had around her. She’d bounce you up and down her cock, to shush your sniffles after she snapped at you. She’d rubbed your back, and promise to get your nails done just so you’d get overwhelmed with joy and cry “Ellieeee” in her arms, she’d wipe your pouty tears off your cheeks when you couldn’t take her cock all the way down, and tell you that you’ll get so much better after lots n’ lots of practice, she’d let you baby her when she was sick, and pretend that your poorly made chicken soup was the cure for her illness, and not the fever medication she’d been knocking back for the past week, she’d indulge your repetitive airheaded questions like “Ellieee, why can’t we print more money?” and “Ellieee how do you know you can see me? What if you’re you’re just imagining me?,” and she’d let you curl up with her brown jacket at night, cause it smelled exactly like her and brought you comfort in those days she had too many back-to-back shifts and couldn’t stay with you. That jacket was her fathers, so for her to leave it with you, meant that she wanted to take care of you in a way he’d be proud of.

  You were Ellie’s dumb little bimbo doll. Her pink hole to use as a fleshlight, her set of plump lips to watch suction around her dick, her sugary little ditz.

But you were also Ellie’s future wife, the future mother of her kids. The woman who provided the the most gentle balance to Ellie’s rough edges and hard lines, the woman who was her emotion support, her pillar, the grounded rock that she’d cling to during her rapid river emotions. In turn Ellie would be your guard dog, your emotional support, your girlfriend, your boyfriend, your husband, your wife, your butch, your provider. She’d be whatever you needed. 

[thevelvetvampyre]

The Dinner Party - Cillian Murphy x Reader

Summary: Cillian can’t wait any longer to fuck his friends daughter after finally seeing her now that she’s legal

Warnings; age gap, riding, fingering, p in v, oral (fem receive), he’s a giver, sneaky and a creeper, met when reader was underage but like a good boy he waited, affair / cheating, general smut and adult content + alcohol / intoxicated behaviour.

(ALSO ONE USE OF Y/N I LOVE IMAGINING HIM SPEAKING TO READER DIRECTLY and I feel like he’s just one to use a girls name when speaking to them anyways)

Notes: sorry I haven’t been active, I’ve been fucking my boss lol (proudly, I am not joking) + I wrote this ages ago so it may be horrible xox

─── ─── ─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─── ─── ───

The dinner party was coming to a close, broken champagne glasses splattered shards over the linen covered table as the candles had burnt to a crisp and the wick began puffing black. Most importantly, the guests were heaving the thick scent of alcohol which filled your fathers living room with dancing, laughing and kisses being shared between people they’d cringe over the morning to come.

“Come on! Just a dip.”

Your best friend has drunkly jumped into your swimming pool fully clothed, the cool water up to her chest as she stayed eager to persuade you in with her.

The heat of the drink in your hand had spread across you and left you smiling stupid at her antics, huffing as you chugged the remainder of the convincing liquid down your throat and placing the glass on the table next to you.

“Fine! Fine… just for a while.”

Your words sounded tired but your happiness and excitement was evident, pulling the bottom of your dress up over your head and leaving you bare in your bra and panties.

Squeaking in excitement she twirled in the water, screaming praises about the way your body looked and how ‘sexy’ you were when you were so bare.

Jumping into the pool, the blurred noises had filled your ears and your skin lathered in bumps to the contact of the cold.

“Isn’t tonight so beautiful.”

You raised from the water to see her floating on her back stargazing, the start of summer was like crack to her and you could only find it addictive yourself.

As the pair of you giggled, floated and embraced in the water, spluttering out sentences of admiration to your friendship, the pounding of the indie music inside had become clearer as the patio door swiped open and your parents, plus a couple of their friends, made their way stumbling and laughing to themselves.

“Are you ladies okay?”

Your dad screamed over the thumping drums, breaking your attention away from each other and looking at him.

“Hell yeah!”

You screamed and threw your arms up, your best friend following suit with a squeal herself.

“Love to hear it honey!”

Your eyes pulled from your dad who swayed with the largest grin you’d ever seen and landed on his friend, Cillian.

He stood there as your eyes met and his smirk became increasingly evident under the blue moonlight. Lifting his hand that held the beer, he threw you a cheers as his gaze dropped to your exposed body hidden beneath the turquoise blue that transparently hid your frame.

Whether it was the sting of the cold liquid you’d submerged yourself in or the lust in his glance, the chills that snuck up your spine sent a shiver to your core.

You’d met the man once, this time last year actually. You of course knew who he was from the impressive array of movies he’d starred in and you were thrilled to hear your father had befriended the man at a PR event. Striking up a close friendship exceptionally fast with the actor, he was soon invited to one of the beautiful, lavish dinner parties your dad hosted once every year.

You were only 17, but my god was he gorgeous. The smell of his masculine musk that surrounded you, his firm grip on your delicate hand as he introduced himself as a stranger, those piercing baby blue iris’s that undressed you slowly in front of your parents.

No- no, of course he didn’t mean to look at you like that. Of course his eyes didn’t fall from yours to your plush lips, admiring how soft and kissable they were. Of course they didn’t soon fall to your perked tits and felt his cock thicken as he imagined how soft they were to squeeze. And of course, he didn’t watch the way your hips moved you along the marbled floor as he imagined himself biting into your silky thighs as they wrapped around his head.

He was married after all, and he was who he was. A gorgeous, talented, Hollywood actor who would have absolutely no interest in a girl less than half his age with all his glitzy awards and a wife who could please him in ways you had yet to learn.

But oh, you were wrong.

From the moment he laid eyes on you, you possessed his thoughts which soon spread to his palm as he fisted himself to the mental picture of you in his head. The way your lashes batted and your teeth dug into your lips, the furrow of your brows as you listened to whoever was speaking at the table and the pull of your lips as they spurred out drunken words.

With each step he took out of his home he’d excite himself with the thought he may bump into you, joke about what a coincidence it was to see you in public and ask you how you’ve been.

You were in the corner of his mind, the hallucination in his sheets and the ghost that crept around each promising corner.

You haunted him. You were the coffee he drank, the scripts he read, the women he fucked and the air he breathed.

A year later, here you were, intoxicatingly half naked in your own pool and finally legal.

Like a corpse that revived from the dead, you were deathly beautiful and his haunting desires had manifested in front of his very eyes.

You send him a smirk that expressed pages of expressionless desires that had too, haunted you.

“Right… who’s feeling one more?”

Your father exclaimed as he shot down the last of his beer and raised the glass.

His friends cheered loudly as they threw their arms up and tripped over seemingly nothing back into the house. Cillian’s eyes had remained on yours as they darkened, clenching his jaw through his arousal and cocking his brows up before slowly turning around and following the group inside.

For the next hour you stayed basking in the moon with your best friend, exhausting yourselves with laughter and dancing in the pool that soon brought you to tiredness.

“Thank you for coming tonight.”

You smiled appreciatively at her, sighing out as you held your sore stomach from the stitch that had pierced your lungs.

“Are you kidding? I wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

She pulled you in for one more hug before you swam to the corner of the pool, cursing at the lack of towels to cover you from shivering in the cold summer air.

“Dad!”

You screamed, repeatedly.

Of course, no response as the music had grown louder- if that was even possible, and most definitely impaired him from hearing your desperate screams.

Oh fuck it.

You pulled yourself up from the pool and grabbed your dry dress, wrapping the material around you the best you could.

“Stay here- I’ll get us towels.”

You pulled open the door and immediately got hit with the smell of whiskey, the pounding of the music and the lack of lighting that explained the mass amounts of broken glass on the countertops and floors.

Sneaking through the walls, you almost made it to the living room when the sound of a man clearing his throat caused you to snap your neck into the kitchen.

There he was, leaning against the counter with that god forsaken smirk he glared at you and his eyes amused at the state you were in.

“Having fun out there?”

Cillian brought the tip of his bottle to his lips, swinging it back as his gaze dropped to your dripping body.

His cock swelled in his pants, admiring how delicious you looked when you were wet.

“Yes, Mr.Murphy.”

You said sweetly, turning your full posture to him and grinning shyly at his question.

“Hm… looks like it.”

His lips parted as his gaze was hot and obvious, leaking arousal out your cunt as he licked his bottom lip at the sight of you.

“You look stunning Y/N.”

His voice was low and quiet as he complimented you, your blush pricking your chest as your pussy clenched around nothing. You dropped your head down as your grin grew to avoid is lustful gaze as his intimidating presence was growing unbearable.

“Oh come on… don’t get s’shy on me now.”

His voice was soothing as he babied you, leaving the counter to slowly walk over you as he dropped his neck to meet your low gaze.

Before you got the chance to respond, your father had barged in and greeted you with a loud welcome.

“Hey! Don’t try courting my angel…”

Your dad had turned to Cillian, raising his voice and finger to point at him in a joking manner.

“Eyes off!”

Cillian chuckled as he pulled his gaze off your dripping tits, cock now painfully erect as he decided then and there he needed you. Brushing past you as he walked through you and your father, the skin of his arm grazed yours and you shivered at the contact.

-

Your best friend had eventually left and so did the rest of the party, a few members having to stay overnight in an attempt to avoid the danger of the road at this time in their intoxicated state.

You sat wet in your bedroom, heart pounding as you repeated his compliment in your head and smirking at just how smooth and silky his voice was when he purred it to you.

Standing up, dropping your towel and pushing into your bathroom, you didn’t bother to close the door fully as your tile walls filled with warm steam.

Lathering your exposed, erect nipples in your body wash and rubbing your soapy palms across your body, you were lost in the thought of him as you bathed and cleared your scent of the chlorine.

Unbeknownst to you, Cillian was one of the guests who stayed. With your parents in their bed and everyone else passed out, he sneaked up the stairs on the edge of his toes and leant against the large wooden frame that kept you safe from him. Placing his ear on the wooden door his wet bottom lip dropped open as he listened carefully to the noise of movement inside.

With his palm pressed next to him, his smirk returned as he heard the dripping of your shower head and snaked his other hand onto the doorknob.

Quietly twisting his wrist to open the door, he winced at the squeak and stopped breathing as his heart thumped in his chest at his actions. From the subconscious alert that maybe sneaking into an 18 year olds bedroom wasn’t morally accepted? Especially as an older married man? No, of course not. His heart thumped in fear that he would get caught. That if anyone was to see him now, he couldn’t have you as he needed you tonight.

Breathing heavily as the coast was seemingly clear, he slowly pressed into the door and snuck in through the small crack. Swiftly turning around and pressing his weight above the handle, he quietly pushed it shut and sighed out a relieved huff at his successful entry into your bedroom.

Twisting his neck to the crack in your bathroom door, the corner of his lips curled as he made his way to the beam of light that poured out your bathroom.

Continuing to grin through the alcohol and your arousal of the slight contact you had with him earlier, your skin was warm as the water caressed you. The sweet smell of your soap had intoxicated the room, Cillian rolling his eyes at how your scent was just as addictive as he remembered.

Placing an eye through the gap in the frame, he salivated at how oblivious you were to him, how vulnerable you looked when you were stripped completely and how he could’ve stormed in and forced his thick, throbbing cock into your cunt right then and there.

He watched as the suds ran over your tits, onto your stomach and down your thighs. His veins pulsed through him and his jaw clenched, furrowing his brows and dropping his wet bottom lip at he watched you run your hands over your naked body.

He was growing needy, the tent in his pants poking towards you and thumping under the constraint of the material. He groaned under his breath as he watched you innocently touch yourself, reaching to every crevice of your body that he wanted to lick clean with his own mouth.

Admiring you in an agonising arousal for a few more seconds before you turned the water off, his eyes widened and he stepped back, swiftly but quietly making his way to your bed before sitting down and leaning back onto his wrists.

Stepping out the shower, you reached for your baby pink towel and wrapped it around your body, looking at your blush skin in the mirror before giggling quietly to yourself and opening the door.

Pulling your gaze up from the ground, your throat closed and your heart pounded in your chest as your eyes met Cillian’s. Your mouth went dry and your breath breathlessly left out your lungs, a mix of confusion and excitement fuelling your feet to slowly walk you forward.

“Miss me?”

He said smirkily, his Irish accent laced with the alcohol he drank earlier and tilting his head as his eyes assaulted you.

“What are you doing here?”

Your whisper was sharp and blunt, your red skin burned purple as you noticed his thick cock pointing towards you.

He licked his lips, slowly pulling himself up from your bed and walking towards you. Stopping in front of you, he lifted his fingertips and grazed them down the side of your arms.

“I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you… have been onto you since last year.”

His voice was a low whisper as it was husky, the grazing of his nails on your skin sending goosebumps to your mound.

“Do ya… do ya think’f me too?”

His eyes met yours and his gaze softened as he poured his blue into you. An odd look of sincerity plastered his face as your cheeks grew warm to his contact.

“You’re married!”

Your whisper was a scream. He chuckled as his eyes fell to your chest, moving his hands to link his fingertips to the top of your towel and slowly unwrapping you from the cotton.

“That’s not what I asked.”

He growled as the towel pooled at the end of your body, standing frozen as his tongue grazed along this top lip. His eyes grew hungry as they ravished in how beautiful and exposed you were to him.

“Y-yes.”

You quietly admitted. A huff left his chest knowingly.

You wanted to cover yourself, feeling vulnerable to his gaze and suddenly insecure of what he’d think of your naked self. Raising your arms subconsciously you covered your midriff, he grunted as his fingers grasped at your forearms to stop you.

“Don’t…”

His desperation was evident, grunting through his words as he stared at you like a raw piece of meat, twitching closer to you with each second passing to close to gap between you.

“need to see you, I’ve waited so long.”

He drooled out the last words, finally pulling his eyes up as his brows knitted and landed on yours.

Staring into his eyes longingly, you pushed yourself forward for your lips to land on his. Now starving, he breathed heavily as his palm grabbed the back of your head to press you harder into the kiss.

Quiet, soft moans left your lips into his mouth as he whimpered shyly at your kiss, his mouth opening wider to force his tongue into yours. Accepting into the kiss and moving your head to twirl your tongue around his, he grabbed at your waist and started to pull you back towards your bed.

Unable to get close enough, he pulls you tighter against his torso as his lips press and pull against yours, wetting your mouth as he whined and grasped at your sides desperately.

Finally feeling your mattress at the back of him he sat down as he continued to knead your waist, shimmering back onto the bed and pulling you on top of him.

As the kisses grew aggressive, he flipped you under him and your back landed against the soft, plush blanket and he pulled back to gaze at your equally frazzled state. His eyes dazed and lips swollen, he stared at you through furrowed brows as he caught his breath.

“Need you…”

He whined, beginning to kiss the crook of your neck as he grazed your skin against his teeth.

“Need you so bad.”

His voice was crying as he pulled back, kissing lower and lower on your bare body and leaving a wet trail.

“Cillian- please!”

You moaned softly with your impatience evident, desperate to feel his mouth on your mound as his hot breath fanned your lower stomach.

He chuckled as he dropped his lower half off the bed, his knees banging against the floor as his forearms wrapped around your thighs.

Pulling you with ease so your cunt nearly hung off the bed, he bit marks with his teeth into your fleshy thighs and groaned around the kisses.

“Bet this cunt tastes so good.”

His voice continued to grow whiner, breaking his desperate kisses apart as he praised you.

“So fucking good.”

Planting more kisses as he was getting teasingly closer to your dripping hole, you began clenching both your thighs and walls in an attempt to push him closer.

“Fuck- I need you!”

Your words came out exasperated and he chuckled.

“Yeah?”

He gazed up at you, cocking his brows and licking his lower lip.

“Yes, god-please… please!”

Your fingers wrapped around his hair and your back arched, your cunt pulsating to finally feel him after waiting for so long.

Within a second his hot mouth was on your mound, lapping his wet tongue to taste how wet you’ve gotten from his teasing.

“Oh god- fuck…”

He pulled apart for a split second.

“You’re soaked.”

Attaching his lips once more, he began hungrily eating at you as your hips twitched beneath him.

Holding you firm in place as his tongue traced from your hole to your clit, your back arched as he quickened his pace and you couldn’t help but whimper under his touch.

“Yes-yes! Right there!”

Groaning in response, his tongue slipped into your cunt and fucked you fast, groaning at how sweet your pussy leaked onto his mouth.

As you squirmed and wiggled beneath him, he dug his nails into your skin and moved his head in synch to your attempted escape from his tongue.

Moving his tongue to your clit once more, he traced figure eights and removed his right hand, placing two fingers at your entrance he began circling teasingly as the tips of his digits picked up your arousal.

Slowly pressing them into your hole, a gasp left your lips as you let go of his hair and grabbed the sheets beneath you, your knuckles turning white in an attempt to not wake anyone up with your muffled screaming.

“So tight baby…”

He removed his mouth from your mound and began curling his fingers mercilessly, your legs being to tremble as you felt your orgasm knot in inside of you.

Staring in awe at the way you shook to his fingers, he stared at you in a daze and admired the way you took your pleasure so well.

“Fuck! I’m cumming…I’m cumming”

Your words were fast and mumbled, the heat in your core overbearing and possessive of your limbs.

“That’s it…”

The knot in your stomach was growing painful, needing your release as you whined against your sheets and shook uncontrollably.

“That’s it.”

Your orgasm shook over you, causing you to convulse as he continued to finger fuck you through your climax.

“Such a pretty girl when you cum hm?”

His voice stayed low and you moaned and cursed through your shaking, grasping the sheets desperately as white noise filled your ears and stars appeared at the back of your head where your eyes rolled.

Slurring out his name as quietly as you could, the violence of your orgasm took over you as you continued to remind him of who made you feel this good.

Slowing down his fingers, he delicately pumped in and out of you as you came down from your high. Your chest heaved as you began reconnecting with reality and lowering your gaze to meet his starstruck glare.

Slowly dragging his fingers out, he placed them to his knuckles in his mouth and licked them clean.

“Taste s’good honey.”

Your cheeks pulsated a heat as your orgasm was powerful and overstimulating, staring at him lick his fingers clean.

“Mhm…”

You moaned out, the exhaustion of how hard you came made you unable to speak a coherent word. Slowly standing up as his knees wobbled, he stood over you in triumph and fell on top of you again.

His throbbing, veiny cock pressed against your leg and your cunt began salivating at the sensation of his arousal, gasping at how big he felt through his pants.

Kissing you with no hesitation once again with an open mouth, he flung you over so you were on top and your boobs hung below his face.

Continuing to kiss you needy, he grabbed your ass and began dry humping you through his jeans.

“Fuck- please.”

He panted through the kisses, whining quietly as his painful hard cock begged to fuck your tight walls.

“Needs- mhm- to feel you baby.”

You continued to rub your wet cunt over his constrained cock, sitting up with no time to spare you whipped his belt off and unzipped his awfully tight crotch.

Raising his hips to shift his jeans to his thighs, his underwear soon followed and his massive shaft was suddenly protruding into your mound.

“So big…”

You could only muster a slight compliment before automatically grinding on the underside of his cock.

“Who got you so hard, Mr.Murphy?”

Your head swung back as your clit was caressed with his leaking red tip.

“Hm?”

You looked back down to see his mouth dropped, his glazed eyes staring at where you were rubbing on him and a red flush that bruised over his knitted brows.

“You- fuck…”

His head lulled back, squeezing his eyes shut as his fingers grasped deep into your hips once more.

“You did.”

His groan vibrated through him, urging you to grab the base of him as you aligned his leaking tip to your soaking hole.

You began to drop your hips as he dipped into you, his neck pushing back more into the bed beneath him and his back slightly arching at the sensation of him breaching your tight cunt.

“Fuck…”

He groaned and elongated his word, snapping his eyes open and hazily looking down to watch as he entered you.

“So fucking tight… this cunts so fucking tight.”

He whined as he panted at the feeling of you continuing to sink down on him, small whimpers breathing out with each of his short breaths.

Swinging your head back at the size of him, you couldn’t help but whimper yourself as he felt so thick and warm inside of you.

“Oh yes… feels- oh- so good.”

You sunk all the way down, moaning with each inch that vanished into you.

Finally reaching his base, you snapped your hips back up so only his beady, white tip was left inside of you.

With no warning, you fell all the way down once more and continued to rock as he groaned to the feeling of his cock stretching you out.

Feeling each inch reach a deeper part inside of you until it hit your navel, your inner thighs dampened with a mixture of sweat and both of your arousals.

Rocking faster as you sped up the way you bounced on him, your room filled with wet slapping noises and his groans that vibrated around you.

A string of incoherent curse words and praises fell from his lips, his face scrunching to a look of pain as the vein in his neck bulged and his breath knocked out his chest.

“Oh yes… taking my cock so- oh fuck- well.”

He struggled to find a balance of basking in his pleasure and watching you ride him, swinging his neck up to watch and flex at the side of your tits bouncing so delicately and swinging his neck back to squeeze his eyes shut as he tried so hard to not cum already.

“Sh- slow down!”

He winced, tightly holding onto your sides as he attempted to pause your rhythm.

“Why?”

Your word slipped out with a moan, bouncing fast and pornographically as your ass slapped on his balls and your clit rubbed on his pubic bone.

“You don’t wanna fill my tight pussy up?”

His cock flexed hard at your words, a cry falling from his lips as he rolled his eyes and panted pathetically to try and stop his balls from spilling inside of you.

“Please-please…”

His voice became ten octave’s higher, squeaking as his hips twitched upwards to fuck you deeper than your own pussy could handle.

“Oh please… please cum for me.”

You bounced aggressively as his legs began trembling, his nails scaring your sides as your chest heated up with a sweat from your rocking.

“Oh fuck- fuck I’m cumming.”

His head swung up as he watched you smirk down at him, your own mouth open for your sweet moans to seep into his ears as you edged him on.

You felt his cock twitch not once, but three times as a warm liquid squirted out to coat the back of your walls.

You watched as he convulsed underneath you, shaking and wincing with the gleam of a tear rolling down his cheek.

His eyes were squeezed shut as his mouth was wet and open, his brows twitching in sync with his cock and his chest heaved breathlessly.

“Ah-ah…oh god.”

His winces were easy and liquid out of him, his hot cum dripping down his shaft as you continued to fuck him as he filled your cunt with his sticky arousal.

Your bounces slowed as his nails loosened their grip on your side, his heaving filled with whines and chokes, sobbing at the aggressive orgasm that spasmed him into filling you full.

Pulling him out of you as you raised yourself, you fell next to him in a sweat and caught your own breath, proud of making the actor cum as hard as he did.

Laying limp for a couple of minutes with the smell of sweat and sex filling your room, the pair of you stared up at your ceiling as you caught your breath. Turning his head to face you, he blinked in a dazed gaze as he admired how pretty you were in the moonlight.

“You’ve been haunting me- y’know that?”

You turn to him and give him a smirk.

“Couldn’t stop thinking of- mhm- how good you’d feel.”

He pulled his pants on and fumbled to buckle himself back into his clothing.

“Yeah?”

You smiled in accomplishment.

“Couldn’t stop thinking of you either.”

You turned your head back up to the ceiling, the pang of guilt in your chest as your thoughts flashed of his lovely wife at home.

“What about your wife?”

You asked quietly, earning a chuckle from him as he sat up properly.

“Don’t worry about it…”

He turned to look at you laying lifeless on your bed, your eyes meeting his as you couldn’t help but blush at how gorgeous he looked, even after filling you so well.

“Can’t stand her anyways.”

He huffed out and rubbed his thighs, sighing deeply as he stood up and slowly walked towards your door.

Confused at his statement and how fast he was leaving, you sat up on your elbows and furrowed your brows in confusion to his fast arrival and even faster departure.

“Will I see you again?”

You felt pathetic asking, watching him walk away feeling used after he made a mess of your insides and bedsheet.

He grabbed the doorknob and turned to look at you, smirking as he cocked his head in amusement to your question.

“You’re everywhere I go honey…”

He turned the doorknob and it squeaked quietly.

“You’ll see me soon enough.”

Without hesitation or another look back at you, he slipped out your door and left you feeling just as naked as he did when he arrived.

Huffing out and laying back onto your bed, a knot of anxiety built as the guilt of your actions took over you. He’s done this before, and he’ll do it again.

[gutsby]

Finders Keepers

Pairing: bfd!Joel x Reader

Summary: Something about the sun in Cabo San Lucas and your best friend’s father’s sweaty body makes you a horny mess. When you find an old pink shirt of his lying around, you really can’t resist. When Mr. Miller finds you humping a pillow and moaning his name, neither can he.

Warnings: 18+. No plot, just porn! Age gap, size kink, praise kink, masturbation, unprotected p-in-v, choking, and a healthy dose of Daddy!Joel. Yes, I need to be locked away in a cage for how feral this man makes me.

A heatstroke would be a kindness in these conditions.

Seeing your best friend’s father frolicking around on the beach with his broad, bare chest on display, skin coated with sweat, and his swim trunks worn so tight you could practically taste the outline of his bulge with every step? That had been your own personal hell for the past hour.

Naturally, you’d had to fake a dehydrated spell and slip off to your villa for some much-needed sexual relief.

“Damn you, Mr. Miller,” you cursed, crawling across the bed with your fingers about to snake between your legs, “Why won’t you just pin me down and fuck me stupid?”

You knew the answer as well as anyone else that this man was totally off-limits—being your best friend’s dad and twice your age and all—but that wouldn’t stop you from touching yourself to the thought just the same.

The bottom half of your bikini was brushed crudely to the side as your fingers worked a furious circuit around your clit. Your hips bucked, head throbbed, insides churned with a fire you couldn’t even begin to describe, and all you could picture was Joel Miller lying there, eyes trained on you as he slotted himself between your legs and fucked you hard enough to break the bed in two.

You slipped your hand beneath a pillow, gripped the sheets under there in a fist, and closed your eyes. Then you yanked the fabric between your fingers and felt somewhat confused—and surprised.

When you looked to your left and lifted the pillow, you saw an odd pink fabric in your hand. You let it go and saw that it was a t-shirt. A big one.

No fucking way.

You would recognize that soft, heady, sandalwood scent anywhere.

It was Mr. Miller’s shirt.

You buried your nose in the material and inhaled as much of that sweet, delectable DILF as you could manage. Wanting him in you, on you, surrounding you completely with his scent so you could pretend he was there in that king-sized bed with you.

Before you could think, you threw the shirt on and grabbed the nearest pillow.

Fuck, you felt crazy. But by God, you were free.

You straddled the cushion between your thighs and rubbed your barely-clad cunt over the seam, whimpering to no one and nothing in particular. You closed your eyes and dragged your hips along that spot, humping it again and again, imagining it was Mr. Miller’s fat, throbbing member instead of a pillow and felt a rush.

“Oh, Joel— oh daddy, fuck me, please.”

You threw your head back and felt every bit the loud and obnoxious porn star as you rode to your heart’s content.

Your hand clamped down on the headboard and anchored your body in place, allowing you to grind your hips even harder. The sensation was crazy—nowhere near as insane as Mr. Miller’s own cock, you reckoned, but good enough—and the longer you rutted your lower half against that pillow, the closer you got to climax.

“I’m so fucking close, want you to cum all inside me.”

With one more protracted, lewd moan, you squeezed your legs together and were about to reach your release, when a sound at the far end of the room almost sent you, your pink t-shirt, and pillow flying off the bed in a panic.

Glass shattered on the ground. You tried desperately to throw the covers over your body and hide yourself.

To your horror, you saw a wide-eyed, petrified Joel Miller standing at the threshold of the room—holding a bottle of ibuprofen and, just seconds before, a cup of water.

The red-faced father of two turned as though he were about to leave, then, reconsidering why he had come up there in the first place, decided to try and play it cool.

“I…brought you some Advil,” he announced, awkward as a cow on roller skates.

You sat up and forced a smile. Tried to pretend like you weren’t just balls deep in a fantasy of him bending you over a table and railing you raw and senseless.

“Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”

The two of you languished in the world’s longest, and most uncomfortable beat of silence, before Joel’s gaze presently fell to your chest. He couldn’t help himself.

“Is that my shirt?”

You glanced down. You could try and lie, maybe save face in one desperate, last-ditch effort.

“Yeah. It just, uh…smelled,” you said instead.

What the fuck was wrong with you?! Surely the Mai Tais hadn’t been that strong to make you act so fucking dumb. But then again, this was your lizard brain talking, and there was no telling how weird you could get around a man as handsome as Mr. Miller. It was humiliating.

To your surprise, your friend’s father just raised his brows and smiled. A bit strained and uncertain, to be sure, but at least he hadn’t fled the room. You watched as his eyes trailed down the length of your body and stopped somewhere around the hem of his shirt, where the fabric gave way to your soft, bare legs. You couldn’t work out if he was intrigued or simply amused. Derisive, even.

Fortunately for you, you didn’t have to stew on those thoughts for much longer, because Joel tossed the pill bottle to the side and made his way over to the bed.

Out of shock—and utter disbelief—you leapt back on the mattress and tried to make distance, but damn if Mr. Miller didn’t have some speed in those old bones. He easily snagged your ankle in one hand and dragged your body back to his. In the process, his oversized tee rolled up over your tummy and exposed your lower half to him, leaving you at an angle you never thought he’d see.

“So I smell?” he murmured, braving a hand up your thigh.

You actually wanted to die. In a good way.

You quickly recollected yourself and shook your head.

“No! No. Not at all, Mr. Miller, I just…I liked it a lot, actually,” you stammered, tensing when his fingers started to trace the skin of your thigh a little higher.

“How much?” Joel asked. This time he almost looked stern as he watched you react to his hand making its way to your heat. Particularly when he rubbed the pad of his thumb over your flimsy bikini bottom.

You couldn’t hope to hide the yelp that crept up your throat when he did. You’d just been humping a pillow, a half a breath away from orgasm, when he’d interrupted. Your whole body was sensitive, to say the least.

At length, Joel made circles with his thumb and watched you squirm when he brought his touch under your panties. He hummed, feeling you drenched between your legs.

“Oh, darlin’, this is awful,” he frowned.

You swallowed a whimper and raised your gaze to him.

“W-what? What’s awful?”

Right before he answered, Mr. Miller sank two fingers inside you, prodding them gently between your soft, fleshy walls and eliciting the softest of moans from you.

“How needy this sweet little thing is for me,” he tsked, curling his fingers to bring about an even louder sound, “How pathetic and wet and horny you’ve been getting for a dirty old man like me. Must hurt somethin’ terrible.”

He had you there. You were greedy and needy and soaking the sheets like you never had before, dripping more arousal the longer he pumped his fingers in and out of you. You watched Joel’s expression change, and suddenly he was retracting his hand and bringing it down to his shorts. Those tight, bright red, bulge-teasing swim trunks that had been driving you buckwild earlier.

His erection was considerably bigger now, swollen with desire and leaping out of his shorts the second he yanked down the fabric.

“I can make that hurt go away, honey. Just lay still.”

Were you a victim of the world’s most vivid, lust-filled lucid dream of all time or was this actually happening? You almost couldn’t believe when the strings of your bikini were loosened and your pussy laid bare before him, shortly met with the throbbing head of his cock.

“You do want me to get rid of that funny feeling, right?”

You almost snapped your neck nodding so fast.

Mr. Joel Miller was going to take care of you—make that terrible, tingling ache go away with his dick.

Before you had a chance to prepare, the man was pushing himself inside you. Searing your walls with that thick, veiny member you’d just been dreaming of before. You couldn’t believe how full you felt, how fantastic he smelled, how overwhelmingly present he was to make you feel as good as you could.

His thumb was back at your clit, pressing light as a feather as he wedged his cock further inside you.

“C’mon, honey, let daddy in,” he murmured low, close to your ear as he sank his length between your folds, “Let me make you feel good.”

You whimpered and grasped at his shoulders, legs wrapping tight around his waist like a vice.

“Feel better than you expected?” Joel smirked.

“Yes, daddy. So fucking good,” you groaned when you felt his pubic bone brush your own. His thumb kept working your bundle of nerves as his hips began to stir.

“How long have you been touching yourself to me, hm?”

His question was simple enough but the hardest for you to answer in your present condition, Joel’s thrusts just beginning to pick up the pace. His balls slapped lightly against your ass, and his whole frame enveloped you in bed, shaking the frame with every stroke he gave you.

“Since— since the day I met you,” you managed in a breath. That breath melded quickly to a strangled moan when Joel seized hold of the base of your throat.

“That long and you never asked me to help out, darlin’?” his voice was almost taunting, his thrusts growing faster.

In no time at all, he was slamming into you full-force, hand still wrapped around your neck and lips curled into a smile. He’d never say it aloud, but he’d been dreaming about you too, as long as he could remember, from the very first day his daughter had introduced you to him.

It was wrong—he knew it just as well as you did.

But that didn’t change the fact of how good you felt wrapped around him, taking every inch of his cock as he pounded you into the bed.

“You’ll promise—” he paused to drive the head of his cock to your cervix and make you whine underneath him, “—to tell me, next time you have one of these feelings?”

“I will. I-I promise,” you whimpered.

“Good girl.” Joel kissed the crown of your head before he went back to fucking you rough.

You were almost embarrassed to say it was happening this fast, but that hot, euphoric feeling was building up inside you. You clamped your bottom lip between your teeth and willed it not to happen—not to make a mess of Mr. Miller’s cock so soon—but the sensation was stronger than you. And Joel saw it, too.

“Is my good girl gonna cum for me?” he grunted.

When you started to answer, you felt his fingers make their way to your mouth and push sharply past your lips. Made you suck his index and middle fingers as he fucked you and had your eyes rolling to the back of your head.

And, to your surprise, he kept talking you through it.

“Keep fucking me, honey, keep milking this cock. You’ve made it this far—might as well cum all over me, huh?”

He looked cocky and self-assured��the same old Mr. Miller that you’d come to know and love. Only this time, he was helping you through an orgasm, all stretched out over his member and desperate for release. You dug your heels in the small of his back and sucked his fingers even harder, nodding your head when he told you to cum for daddy, cum all over this cock.

It was arguably one of the best orgasms of your life, getting pounded hard and fast while Mr. Miller groaned above you and shot his own load deep inside you. Unlike before, with that pillow wedged between your thighs, you actually screamed from the pleasure, bit down on the man’s fingers and bounced back and forth as you rode out your high in a firestorm of fervor and bliss.

In short, you were fucked-out and happier than ever.

Joel collapsed beside you, seemingly feeling the same.

You weren’t sure how long you laid there, or when those smug, cunning features first appeared on his face, but suddenly he was up—propped beside you with a smile.

That handsome, grinning bastard trailed a finger to your neckline and tugged at the neon pink fabric of his shirt.

“So…when can I have this back?”

[princessbrunette]

dbf!rafe thought he was doing a pretty good job at pretending he didn’t care too much about you. but it was coming to the late afternoon, and he’d driven past you wandering around town on your own wearing one of those stupid little mini skirts you’re crazy about and he had to do his duty and command you come with him. for your safety of course. he’d hate if some sick older guy got his hands on you.

“get in. c’mon.” he’s already acting irritable with you and it only spurs you on to act mischievous.

“why so glum, hm?” you pout, letting a small giggle slip through as you fasten your belt — the friend of your fathers glancing around the area briefly to see if anyone had seen his bosses daughter climb into his car before zipping off.

“what’d i tell you last time i saw you just— just walking around asking for trouble?” he berates and he’s not even sure why he’s so wound up. you just got him so pent up and touchy that he always found himself being this way with you.

“asking for trouble? mr cameron i was just hanging out.” you laugh, stretching your legs and going to rest your feet on his dashboard. he shoves your legs off, sending you a scalding glare.

“in that little skirt? yeah i wasn’t born yesterday, alright— you were probably off meeting guys.” he grumbles and you turn your head to him, heart fluttering at the jealous tone he had failed to conceal.

“oh no, not hanging out with guys my own age… that would be the most awful thing in the world, right?” you sark, and he resents the way he can hear the pretty smile in your voice without even turning his attention away from the road. he huffs out a scoff, shaking his head as he pulls up to the traffic light.

“told your old man i’d look out for you, right so — so i am just telling you that you shouldn’t be wandering around meeting guys dressed like a hooker. i know how guys brains work, okay — i am a guy. s’why i’m taking your ass home where you can’t get into any of that shit.” he rants, and before you can complain about him calling you a hooker your attention is caught by his promise to bring you home and you shoot up in your seat.

“no, please. just— anywhere else. not home.” you suddenly sound serious, and he nearly misses the stoplight turning green to glance at you in confusion.

“and why the hell not?” he drawls and suddenly you’re a lot more quiet. he raises his eyebrows waiting for a response.

“i’m fighting with my parents. i just… i don’t want to see them yet.” you sigh, staring at your manicure in your lap. as much as he wanted to teach you a lesson and drag you back into the house to your father, he knew what it was like to have a rocky relationship with his parents. because of this he sighs after his slight hesitation and turns in the direction away from your house.

“ah… shit, alright fine. the fuck do you wanna go then? gotta drop you somewhere, alright?” he relents and you beam.

“really? thanks mr cameron.” your elated expression calms itself into a pur as you lean across the gear stick and press a kiss to his cheek. he clenches his jaw.

“watch it.”

to this you respond with a giggle and he relaxes a little, knowing he had a little more time with you.

“where do you wanna go then? haven’t got all day, kid m’not a fuckin’ taxi.”

“hmm, your place?” you’re quick with your answer, almost like you had it planned. he’d given in a few times, let you have your way with him even though he knew it put his career on the line — and he told himself and you that this could go on no longer.

he huffs out a laugh, scratching at his cheek and shaking his head, choosing to ignore the suggestion. your bottom lip curls over at this, frowning a little.

“raaafe.” you whine and he resists an eye roll.

“what you’re — you’re serious about that shit?”

“mhm… i missed you…” you coo, and he feels your warm body lean across the centre console again, a clawed hand finding his thigh as you speak into his ear. “c’mon dad.” you groan and he feels a hot rush of blood fly through him at the nickname. god you were sick.

“don’t fuckin’ call me that.” he turns into his driveway at tannyhill, parking up infront of the house haphazardly before turning off the car and not making any move to get out.

“just wanna play a little bit.” you complain, kissing down his white shirt leaving lipgloss prints that he’d soon complain about down the expensive material as he watches you with parted lips, feeling your hot breath fan over his hardening crotch.

“well if you’re gonna suck me off just fuckin’ do it alright. don’t wanna hear that shrill ass little voice unless you’re tellin’ me how good that shit tastes. c’mon.”

you couldn’t help but obey.

[teojira]

Really enjoyed your headcanons on Caeser and Proximus, do you mind doing the same with Noa?? 😊🙏

[Noa and day to day life with him!] [Headcanons!]

Summary: Noa takes you back with him to his home, and the clan accepts you as one of them. Even if you're concerned otherwise.

Word count: 1k (Jesus christ)

Warnings: None that I can think of! Can be read as Platonic or Romantic! You and Noa are attached to one another. (Yes, this is me projecting.)

A/N: Noa is so near and dear to me, I literally did not mean for this to be so long, and I STILL cut myself off. This is 1k words worth of headcanons for him, and it is not enough. I'm Noa's #1 fan, I am sorry to all my friends and family who have to hear me talk about him constantly.. Ask me for Noa anything, and I will give you the world.

Do me a favor and strap the fuck in for this it's alot.

I am so glad someone asked about Noa bc I got ALOT to say.

Noa has had it with humans, Mae put him, his clan, and countless others at risk, he should not trust humans, really he shouldn't, but he can't help it. She also betrayed you in the process, and now you're alone.

You agreed to help him and Mae against Proximus, you're the only one who actively goes up against Proximus as well.

Swinging and trying your best to try and get Proximus off of Noa, yelling and crying while the other apes just stare in fear. (Later on they apologize, but you don't hold it against them.)

It's a huge risk to invite a human with them again, but then he remembers Rakas words, Caesars words, and decides he can't told another's decisions over you.

So when he gently grabs your hand in his, looking down at you with a strained smile, blood seeping from his lips, you follow, back to his clans land.

Now on to the good stuff, it's kinda awkward finding your place among the eagle clan, the elders are gone, his father Koro is gone, there really is no guidance as to where to place you.

You drift mostly, either helping Dar or helping with the young ones, teaching them how to read and write, helping fish, farm, the basic tasks.

Dar loves you by the way, doting on you and making sure no one messes with you in a harmful way. She teaches you their customs and traditions, all the while playfully teasing you about Noa. She's a mom, she knows.

You're happy with your work, happy with your place among the clan. It's genuinely shocking how much they were willing to forgive and to not hold any grudges against humans after one ruined everything.

It helps that Noa takes accountability for you, somehow so trusting that you will not cause harm. His faith in you speaks volumes and you remind him everyday that it won't go to waste.

All he does is send you a sweet smile and ruffles your hair.

You find yourself helping Noa alot with crafting new tools and contraptions, being a second pair of eyes that can catch onto things he can't.

"Very smart." "Thank yo-" "For an Echo." and he does that stupid cute little sniff afterwards and it makes it tremendously hard to hit him.

He's such a little shit I fucking hate him.

You're his shadow when his duties permit, he's taken on a higher role of the clan, sometimes going out for days at a time but you're always at the edge of the Village waiting for his return, anxiously working your bottom lip until you see him in view.

You're both extremely attached to one another, Soona and Anaya become attached to you too, dragging you along in everyone's free time to go climbing, to eat, to hunt, just about any group outing has you as their fourth member.

Noa was worried about them accepting you, but they love you just as much as he does.

It makes his heart swell when he sees you and Soona together, giggling about something surely only you both understand while Anaya groans and complains about being left out.

It's like you've always been meant to be with them, to round out their group.

Soona and Anaya will offer to be the one to carry you this time, they do want to, genuinely, but Noa won't let them 99.9% of the time, He's used to your weight, he trusts that he can keep you safe the best. (Says the ape that literally almost died multiple times doing stupid shit)

"Noa worries too much, they will be fine." "Anaya is clumsy. Can't trust you to carry yourself, much less echo."

He tries not to carry you everywhere, but it is so much more convenient than waiting for you, so he scoops you up often enough that the stares don't bother you anymore.

Remember how in the movie, all the apes sleep together communally? Well you're at first extremely nervous about that, not wanting to ask what exactly are your accommodations because surely they don't want you there with them.

Actually, Noa does, so jot that down.

When you shyly move away, he raises his palm up at you, nodding to the space besides him.

When you don't move, he gently tugs you down, laying on his back and shutting his eyes. The clan hasn't really fully rebuilt and started to gather things needed for shawls and coverings, so it's not strange to him that you cuddle up to him to steal his warmth, peeking an eye open to see your face squished into his side, knocked out.

He wraps an arm around you, incasing you in more warmth.

This is a nightly routine until you finally take it upon yourself to throw yourself on him, he chokes out a breath as you make yourself comfortable.

Soona and Anaya usually join in, he cannot fucking breathe but he's so happy that it outweighs it.

When Mae inevitably shows back up, she sees you out in the distance, you look so genuine happy, so at peace with where you are. You even have some eagle feathers in your hair, integrated into their life that it shocks her.

It's enough to make her put the gun away, grasping at Rakas necklace like a lifeline, sucking in a deep breath to stop her from crying.

Maybe apes and humans can live at peace with one another after all. She hopes you prove her wrong.

ᴛʜᴀɴᴋ ʏᴏᴜ ᴠᴇʀʏ ᴍᴜᴄʜ ꜰᴏʀ ʀᴇᴀᴅɪɴɢ ᴀɴᴅ ɪ ʜᴏᴘᴇ ᴛᴏ ʜᴇᴀʀ ꜰʀᴏᴍ ʏᴏᴜ ꜱᴏᴏɴ!

[mrsparrasblog]

Randome TF141 headcanons

Some of them are weird. But I just know.

Price:

Never go to the toilet after him

has a hut in the forest for fishing but mostly ends up fucking a local in there

because this man is a whore

he is still the most loyal when he is in a relationship

his favorite food is Shepard's pie or red jelly but not the green one and no one understands why

has so hard Daddy issues that he fathers everyone

uses AXE dark temptation to get rid of the cigar smell in his house

smells like Tom Ford tobacco vanilla

his love language is gift - giving and acts of service

NSFW:

he is a munch everyone knows it but still he is the biggest munch

Breeding kink

He is a whore but just because he thinks he doesn't deserve more than a one nighstands , please give this man a soft wife to dot on - preferably me

he hates Anal sex but riming is okay in his cards

says he is straight but bottomed Simon and Johnny on many occasions and likes to get blowies from or favorite pretty boy :)

prefers hair down there

Ghost:

He only Shops at Lidl you will never see him at Tesco or Sainsbury, even with all the coupons and tricks Lidl is cheaper. You will never see him somewhere else.

He hates London with all his heart, if there were a hate page for London he would be the admin. Dirty tube, bad football, and too many tourists.

He has a deep hate against a parrot, if parrots have zero haters he is dead.

Read Jane Austin and enjoyed it.

Has a book of stupid jokes in his apartment and laughs about them

When he is in love he is the cutest man alive, but somehow still creepy, he knows your favorite things in everything even your favorite underwear company even tho you never told anyone.

uses 5 - 1 shampoo .... from Lidl (still very keen on hygiene) 

NSFW 

He watches stepsiblings' porn unapologetically 

Has a mommy kink. I could go into heavy detail about it

He isn't a rough lover more of a service Dom 

Doesn't care about hair down there

Soap: 

He sometimes feels left out in his family, his siblings have children and "normal" jobs. His family doesn't see his lifestyle as something to be proud of

Except for his mom, he is such a momma boy but in a good way.

Was a sperm doner once (more than once) but only because he is a good guy with fertile genes 

His mohawk was an accident, he decided it looked "fresh" so it stayed.

Watches DC instead of Marvel...... why?

Uses Hugo Boss, bottled Night, got it from his grandma, and never used anything else

NSFW: 

Gaz was his BI awakening: after las Almas and the broken shoulder he couldn't wank himself properly, and he got so frustrated because he couldn't even sleep properly with a woman because of it, and he didn't just want to go to the Pub and say "Hey my shoulder is broken can you wank me". So in his half-drunk state, he asked Gaz. And after promising each other they would never talk about it, Kyle did help him. Johnny never cummed that fast. He isn't sure if it was because of Kyle's skilled hands, Kyle's fucking hot body, or that he didn't have a wank in two weeks. And when Kyle licked his cum that was his awakening that he likes men and Women. Of course, he returned the favor after he was healed:)

His favorite porn category is Woman Masturbating or Male Masturbating, everything that is solo is 100000 times better than "real porn".

He lost his Virginity very Young to an older Woman. Johnny always flexed about this, but this isn't a reason to flex.

When you sleep with him - you need to be on the pill because he is mister fucks so hard that every condom breaks.

He wears lingerie sometimes - he pulls it better off than some of us :(

cums way too fast but can last like 4-6 rounds 

loves tit fucking

Gaz: 

smells like Bleu de Chanel 

had a more expensive skincare routine than you 

he loves skincare 

He grew up with two moms.

He loves listening to Taylor Swift. No one can convince me otherwise.

Is deeply in love with me

He played Rugby in school. If he hadn't joined the Military, he would be a professional Rugby player.

Kyle was still somehow that awkward kid in class. Even needed to change the school because he got bullied.

NSFW:

He was disappointed in Johnny's cock sucking skills, but Price is a different breed.

can pull anyone and is mister give everyone an orgasm, not once in his life did he let his lover unsatisfied

had a foursome once when he was like 23, with three girls who were obsessed with him, and who can judge them

he is a guy who doesn't kiss and tell

his fav porn category is Anal Sex

has a CNC kink but is afraid to ask

is shaven down there but doesn't care if you are or not.

I have so much more ahhhh

[sicbaby]

sleeping beauty

stepdad!leon kennedy x f!reader

cw: 18+ smut, stepcest, somnophilia, non consensual (at first)

it was a weekend you were looking forward to. a nice little winter vacation with your mom and some of her friends. it would be nice to get out of the house for a while anyway, especially since your seasonal depression kicked in.

however, your plans quickly changed when you fell ill. god damnit, stupid fucking weather. had to ruin your plans. now you were bed ridden, absolutely no energy so you refused to do anything. your loving mother didn’t bat an eye, wishing you well and heading off with her friends for the weekend. thanks, mom.

luckily, your stepdad was free. leon.

leon was a good dad, sweet and caring… more than your mom ever was. you liked him a lot. your mom put leon in charge of taking care of you for the weekend, and he was more than happy to oblige. he barely ever had time off work, and he was looking forward to spending time with you.

it was friday night and leon sat on the couch watching tv, feeling frustrated. the reason why? you.

yes, you. the poor little thing that had slept the day away. he had planned out the whole evening for the two of you. he was going to make soup, cuddle you and watch your favorite movies and kiss and love on you. like a good father should when his daughter gets sick. but you never even got out of bed. he felt lonely, frustrated, and needy. he missed his pretty little girl.

it was getting late. he shut down the house and put away the full pot of soup he had made for you. just seeing it sitting there made his frustration grow even stronger.

he turned off all the lights, locking the front door and heading upstairs. he’s mad at you.

he knows he shouldn’t feel that way, especially when you’re sick. but he can’t help it. he passes your door, not giving it a second look as he heads to his room.

he strips to his boxers, ready to get in bed as he fights an internal struggle within himself.

god, it’s not your fault, you poor thing. but he has needs too, doesn’t matter if you’re sick. with a frustrated sigh, he heads to down the hall to check on you.

he knocks on your door softly, and when there isn’t a response he opens it. the air is damp, filled with the peppermint scent of your diffuser on full blast. the room is dark, and he can hardly see until he comes closer. you’re sleeping. still.

his gaze wanders over your sleeping form. you were on your belly with your left leg hiked up. you were wearing the sheerest pink nightgown, and the silk practically melted into your body, leaving little to the imagination. it also didn’t help that your position caused the gown to ride up, the bottom of your cheeks exposed to him. nothing underneath that slutty little gown, of course. despite his irritation, he couldn't deny the allure of your vulnerability. a mischievous grin tugs at the corner of his lips as a wicked idea forms in his mind.

leon slowly approaches the side of the bed, his steps almost silent against the carpeted floor. he felt as if you owed him for the lonely, isolated day he had.

swiftly, he reaches out and gently brushes his hand against your cheek, feeling the warmth of your feverish skin beneath his fingertips. "you know, i was hoping we could have some quality time together," he murmured, his tone mocking. "but it seems like you're too busy being a useless little burden, sleeping the day away."

his frustration brewed beneath the surface, and he couldn't resist the temptation any longer. leon slowly reaches down, his fingers grazing over your thigh. the touch was light, teasing, not wanting to wake you up just yet.

"since you're so useless, maybe i should find another way to entertain myself," he whispered, his voice dripping with dark amusement. "hmmm,” he hums, “maybe i'll have to wake you up properly, little sleeping beauty."

leon's hand continued caressing your thigh, inching higher and higher. your mouth was wide open, snoring softly. he chuckled at that. even sick and asleep, you were such a prize. and he was going to claim you.

trailing his hand along the back of your left thigh, he nudges it to the side slightly, guiding your legs to open more for him. he trails up and up, until his index finger flicks over the soft flesh of your pussy. he smirks when you don’t move, and proceeds to glide his finger up and down your folds until it settles on your clit. he applies just enough pressure to elicit a small noise from your parted lips. it’s barely noticeable, though, and he keeps playing and teasing with your pussy until that warm wetness is coating his finger.

the act of making you wet even while you slept was an intoxicating feeling for leon. the sudden urge to possess you and claim you as his own rushes over him.

he crawls over you, settling into bed next to you. he places a light hand on your back, feeling the silk of your nightgown. his touch trailed lower and his fingers knead the soft flesh of your ass, reveling in its plumpness. he couldn't help but let out a low, husky groan as his desire for you intensified.

leon's desire grew even stronger as he shifted closer to you. being careful not to disturb you, he delicately repositioned you onto your side, hand still firmly gripping your ass. once he’s satisfied with your position, he presses his hand to the front of your hips, pressing your ass against him. his cock hardens at the feeling of your warm and soft ass against him. he couldn't help but grind his hips against yours, feeling his cock grow with every slow rut. a low growl of satisfaction escaped his lips as he continued, moving his head up to press his face into your hair, inhaling your scent.

he looks back down to your ass, slowly and carefully lifting your nightgown up your back, exposing your bare skin to the fabric of his boxers as he continues to slowly hump you. in a low, whispered voice, he couldn't resist indulging in dirty talk again, knowing you wouldn't hear him. you were so deep in your slumber.

"hi, princess.” he taunts, right in your ear this time. “you gonna let daddy fuck your tight little pussy? hm? yeah, you are. daddy’s gonna do whatever he wants with you tonight, baby," he murmured, his voice laced with desire. “daddy deserves that, right?” he asks, reaching up to grab your chin, forcing you to nod your head in your sleep. he chuckles deeply at this. “yeah, that’s right. good girl, baby.”

as he continues grinding against you, his hand lowers from your chin to your breasts, lightly grazing his fingers over your nipples, smirking to himself when he feels them harden almost immediately. you don’t move, don’t make any noise, and he wonders how much farther he can go. he trails his left hand down your tummy to your pussy, his hand once again finding your clit. at this point, you’re soaked. “dirty fucking girl..” he chuckles deeply.

he removes his hand, wiping your slick off on his boxers as he pulls them down his legs. he tosses them off the bed, moving back to you to lift up your leg. he scoots up, placing his now hard cock up against your wet cunt. he brings your leg back down and groans at the feeling of your lips and thighs surrounding his cock. he begins humping you again, your pussy continuously wetting his dick and making the most obscene noises in the quiet room.

it wasn’t until now you stir slightly, in a weird dream like state. you feel heat on your neck, a warmth against your body and wetness pooling between your legs. and yet, your mind can’t comprehend it, choosing to stay asleep.

leon continues humping his cock against your pussy, grunting softly in your ear. soon, he’s losing all control. he quickly lifts your leg, taking his dick into his hand as he slaps your cunt a few times with it, teasing himself yet again. he rubs it back and forth, pushing his head against your entrance, gauging your reaction. you still don’t move, and he scoffs a little. he finally presses the tip of his cock into your waiting hole, slowly yet surely filling you up. he barely gets all the way inside when you finally wake up, in a daze.

“hmm- huh, hnnng? leon?” you whine, immediately trying to get up when you feel a heavy, almost painful weight inside of you. you’re sick, weak and confused, your whines almost sound like you’re about to cry. and you just might, until leon pushes you gently back onto your side. “shhh, shhh, princess. it’s okay, daddy’s here. just needed to fill you up, make you feel better. daddy just wanted to feel you. that’s okay, right baby?” he shushes you, keeping his cock buried deep inside you.

you lay back against the pillows, your face contorted in confusion and worry. you nod. “o-oh, y-yeah… okay, daddy…” you immediately comply. you trust your dad. whatever he’s doing.

your voice is weak, eyes burning and you’re just so fucking tired. your state turns leon on even more. you don’t even comprehend what’s going on until you blink a few more times.

and then you realize it. your stepdads cock is inside of you.

“d-dad?” you say weakly, unable to move. your eyes shift around the room, scared to move, scared to turn around to face him.

“yeah?” he groans. “so naughty. leaving your daddy all alone all day.” he mumbles. “you’re gonna make it up to me, kay princess?” his voice is condescending, a bit mean, and it makes your pussy clench around him. yet your face tells a different story. you’re on the verge of tears. why is this happening? he laughs breathily into the back of your neck, sending shivers down your spine. you want this just as much as him. even if you don’t realize it yet.

your mouth is slightly open, unable to breathe through your nose due to your sickness. you feel dizzy, your body hot and sweaty and leon begins to thrust, pounding into you relentlessly from behind. your body is completely limp in his hold, his left hand digging into your thigh harshly as he keeps your leg up in the air.

you cry out, your body feeling so fragile and sore. he’s just making it worse. this isn’t right. but why are you so wet? your panic increases by the second.

“d-dad! stop! this is so bad,” you sob. “t-this is sooo wrong!”

his thrusts are forceful, taking exactly what he wants from you with no mercy. he can sense your energy waning, your body growing weaker as you try to fight back. he drops your leg, reaching around to rub circles into your swollen clit.

“oh, it feels wrong, does it?” he growls. “but i know you want this, baby girl. fight all you want. pussy’s fuckin’ crying for me.” he feels your body trembling, little whines and cries falling from your pretty mouth.

you feel so overwhelmed, thrashing in his hold, tears falling from your eyes. you don’t even know what you want, a pure mess, brain mushy and can’t think straight. your movements are futile against him. “s-stop! stop! hurts, daddy! please…” he’s huge, practically splitting you in two on his dick.

“no, no, baby. you be good for daddy. you don’t wanna make daddy angry, hmm? bad girls don’t get to cum, you know.” his voice is surprisingly soft, yet so fucking condescending it makes a sob erupt from you. he pulls all the way back out, before slamming his entire length back into your pussy.

“d-daddy,” you cry. “please!” you’re shaking so much, poor baby. your pussy keeps clenching, sucking in his cock before trying to spit him out.

“awww.” he coos. “does daddy’s cock feel too big for your tiny little pussy, baby girl?” he slows his thrusts, giving you some time to adjust. you can feel your heartbeat racing in every part of your body, especially in your cunt. you’re thankful he slows down. you can really feel him this way, feel how every ridge drags deliciously against your walls. it feels too good now. you want to cum. you need to cum.

however, leon doesn’t like taking it slow. “don’t worry, honey. i know you can take it.” he resumes a faster pace, your entire body bouncing from the force. your sobs of pain and discomfort quickly turn into whiny moans of pleasure, no matter how much you try to fight it.

he grabs your cheeks roughly, squeezing them, making your lips pout as he turns your head towards him slightly. he kisses at your tears, tasting the saltiness on your face.

“you’re doing so well, my precious little toy. you’re such a good girl for taking all of daddy’s cock.” he praises, causing you to subconsciously relax a little, letting him sink deeper into your cunt.

“thaaaats it, princess,” he continues, bottoming out and stilling for a moment again. he kisses your neck hungrily, breathing in your scent once again. “you ready to cum for daddy, my little bunny?” he teases, his voice dripping with control. you whine in response, that dumb little brain of yours not able to form words. “beg for it, baby. show me just how badly you need it.” he ruts up harshly into you one time, urging you to speak. it causes you to gasp out a broken moan.

“p-please… please.. need ‘t cum…” it’s a weak response, but you truly aren’t able to conjure up anything better. your hips have a mind of its own, grinding back on leon’s cock desperately searching for release.

leon would want to make you beg for it until you were screaming, but he had to have some type of consideration for his sick baby, right?

he doesn’t respond to your begging, only continuing to pound into you. it feels so good you feel like you’re about to pass out, head empty and dizzy.

he reaches around once more, slapping your bouncing tits a few times, making you gasp. you throw your hands up, trying to stop him but he easily swats your hands away and continues. his fingertips drop down harshly right on your hard, sensitive nipples. “nuh uh, baby. what did i say, huh?” he threatens in a high pitched, taunting baby-like voice.

“‘m sorr- sorry, daddy!” you cry out, hiccuping, your voice hoarse.

“mm, it’s okay, my sweet girl. ‘s brave, endured so much for daddy. go ahead and cum, baby. cum all over daddy’s cock.” he says through gritted teeth. he stops his assault on your tits, bringing his hand down to rub at your puffy clit.

your hand wraps around his wrist, pushing it down harder against the swollen nub. he smirks at this. your lip is drawn between your teeth, body going stiff as you near your release.

“cmon, baby. be a good girl for me. wanna feel that tight pussy cum around my cock. you want it, don’t you?” he encourages, his balls drawing up, so so so close to cumming inside of you.

“mhm, mhm, mhm!” you moan, nodding your head once you feel your orgasm approaching. your jaw goes slack, eyes rolling back into your head, body convulsing as you cum hard. your head is thrown back, resting on leon’s shoulder. he places kisses on your temple, holding you tight through your release.

he starts rutting into you like a rabbit as he cums, shooting his load deep into your womb, offering a warm satisfaction in your lower belly. his thrusts turn into slow, sharp ruts, making sure your cunt takes everything he has to give.

“fuck, baby.” he grunts, his body convulsing with the aftershocks of pleasure. he stays inside of you for a moment. both of you are breathing hard and you sigh tiredly. he moves the hair from out of your face, kissing you sweetly on the cheek.

your cheeks are red and puffy, stained with tears. you feel so good, you can’t even be upset at what just happened. in fact, you want it to happen again.

exhaustion washes over you. your thoughts, your morality… it can wait for the morning.

“go back to sleep, sweet girl. daddy will take care of you. love you so much, princess.” he kisses your forehead, nosing your hairline, inhaling your sweet scent. he just can’t get enough. such a perfect little girl, and now he’s claimed you. his perfect little girl, all for him.

[henrycangelbaby]

In which: He feels foolish, admitting his fears out loud, for they seem so silly, but he wants to be honest with her, always.

or

Logan feels unfit to be a father.

He sleeps most nights, always on the left side of the bed (he used to sleep on the right until they started sharing a bed, and they quickly found out she had no hope of sleeping peacefully when on the wrong side for the night). He had given up the right side easily; if he had achieved anything else in all his years of life, adapting to change (new sleep conditions) now came easy to him.

She always sleeps on the right, her back curled into his chest; sometimes she even cuddles his arm close. It causes his shoulder to ache in the morning, but it feels like it’s worth it. Her happiness is always worth it.

He hasn’t been sleeping as much as he usually does. He’s not well rested or peaceful, and despite all his sleeping experience, he cannot seem to get a good night's rest. In recent months, it’s his thoughts that have been keeping him awake. His doubts and worries haunt all his thoughts day and night. He should speak to her about it; he knows if he brought it up, she would scold him for not bringing it up sooner. They were in this together, and he could always tell her anything.

Part of him feels guilty; she shouldn’t have to bear his burden; she’s already doing so much for him, growing their child and giving them the gift of a family. He might never be able to repay her for it. Part of him feels embarrassed. Why is he feeling so many stupid feelings? All this anger and self-pity is so stupid that it makes him, well, angry.

Sometimes it makes him sad, a kind of sadness that he can’t seem to shake off; it lingers deep in his chest, and sometimes only when she sleeps quietly next to him does he allow it to consume him. A few silent tears slip from his eyes as he splays his hand, covering the expanse of her stomach. His eyelashes feel wet.

She sleeps peacefully next to him, her eyelashes gentle against her cheekbones. He can feel the way her stomach rises and falls with her breath, his palm spread across the bump. Well, it isn’t just a bump; it’s her bump. His baby is in there, their baby. He’s not quite sure how to refer to “it” yet. Not to sound rude, but the whole “kid” thing had never really been on his radar.

Logan knows many things; he knows violence and death, fighting and killing, loneliness, and years and years of loneliness. He’s not actually been lonely; he's always been surrounded by people, but he never quite had the love and intimacy that Y/N has brought to his life. It was new when they first met; she was so young, sweet, and loving. The sun shone so brightly whenever they were together that he swore his tan got a shade or two darker after he saw her. They would bask together, sleeping peacefully in the yellow hue.

There is no hue right now; in fact, he feels like the sun may have retreated forever, leaving him in a gloomy darkness. And it’s all his fault. Y/N still loves him the same; nothing has changed, only his feelings.

He can feel the tears again; they burn his eyes, blurring his vision. His chest feels tight; it aches as it begins to beat faster. He feels different from before; never have his emotions felt so heightened before. He has to get out.

He throws the covers off his body so fast, not giving a second thought to where they land. He finds himself in the dining room, hazardously throwing on the big light. Before he can think about it and compose himself, they come out. His claws suddenly shoot through the wood of the dinner table.

"Fuck,” he curses, and it hurts like a bitch as well. Logan has had control over his claws for quite literally decades; he has grown to understand the pain of it, but so unexpectedly, this time it hurt. He can’t stop the tears in his eyes as he yanks the metal out of the wood, leaving the splintered wood behind.

“Lo?” Y/N's voice comes from behind him. Sweet and sleep-ridden, she walks quietly from the bottom of the stairs, tiptoeing towards him. “Why are you out of bed?”

Her eyes suddenly catch the busted wood he stands over, and caught at the scene of the crime, he feels a sense of shame wash over him. How had he let his emotions get the best of him like that? This was the whole fucking problem.

She spoke again: "Is everything okay, honey?"

Fuck, she shouldn't be worrying about this. He apologizes before he can think about it. "I'm sorry for waking you, baby; everything's fine; go back to bed."

She doesn't listen to him as he expected, stepping closer to him, eyes skimming over the damaged table before coming to stand right in front of him. He goes to flinch away when she reaches out for his hand. She soothes her other hand up and down his arm for a second. God, he feels so fucking dumb right now, acting like a feral street cat.

The soft petting worked, and she softly grabbed his hand without resistance, pulling it up to her lips to plant the softest of kisses on it. It's an act of affection that he only allows Y/N to do; he feels like a feral cat when other people try to touch his hands, almost hissing at the touch.

He had opened up to her about the pain, while it healed instantly, he often felt it linger there, a tenderness that could only be healed by kisses from his sweet girl. She always treated them like it was real pain, kissing his knuckles after a long day and ensuring he takes hand cream with him everywhere he goes (he would never usually use something like that, but she buys them the same one, and he quite likes the sugary scent that reminded him of her).

"You can tell me what's bothering you." It sounded less like an offer and more like a demand. She must have seen the hurt that flashed across his face at her words, "I would never judge you."

It seems uncanny that she always knows what he needs to hear; her reassurances mean the world to him. She guides him to sit down on one of the dining table chairs standing between his legs. He looks up at her, and she smiles back at him. She always looks so beautiful when she smiles.

"You'll always be safe here, with us."

Logan couldn't help it; the tears started leaking out of his eyes. "Us," he knew what she meant by that, their baby—the reminder of the burden he was about to become in the family that they had created together. His silent tears dribbled down the soft fabric of her t-shirt, creating a wet patch at the top of her rounded stomach. She let him cry, shushing him gently, as he imagined she might do in a few months with their baby.

There are so many things he wants to say, so many apologies he wants to utter out loud, but nothing comes out except more tears. "Tell me what's hurting you, honey; maybe I can help fix it."

He shakes his head. "You're already doing so much for me; for our family, I just can't."

"Can't what?"

He feels foolish, admitting his fears out loud, for they seem so silly, but he wants to be honest with her, always.

"I'm scared," it comes out barely as a whisper, his confession quiet, but he knew she heard it. She nodded wordlessly; it was enough to encourage him to keep going. "I'm scared to be a dad, scared that I'm a bad person, a violent and unfit person to raise a child, a man as horrible as me tainting such an innocent thing."

She holds him tighter, his head resting against the home of their baby.

"You are not a bad person." Her words are firm as she tilts his head upwards, forcing him to make eye contact with her. "Honey, you are the nicest person that I know."

He opens his mouth, but she shakes her head at him before continuing, "You are many things, Lo, so loving and so kind, and not once have I felt unsafe around you, yeah?"

He stopped crying, wiping his eyes, and apologizing. "I'm sorry, bub."

She shakes her head with a chuckle. "None of that; you are always valid for believing these things, but that doesn't make them true. You are the best husband, and I know that you will be the best daddy ever."

Before he can think about it, he pulls her down into a kiss and smiles into it. For the first time in months, he feels fine, like everything will work out just fine.

"Come on, let's go back to bed." She grabs his hand, leading him out of the room. He casts the splintered table a glance as he turns the light off.

"I'm sorry about the table, bub."

She just smiles at him. "That's okay; it was ugly anyway," is all she says before picking up the pace towards their bedroom.

Wait, he picked out that table.

"Hey!"

A/N: first fan fic i've ever published and finshed, pls be nice. Also i have the grammar + spelling skills of a dyslexic baby, i did put this through a checker but please just ignore it. also also feedback is always welcome idk if anyone will read this but i heart Hugh Jackman

[iiiiiiis-things]

"But you're the only one that's holding me down!"

pairing- bsf!satoru x reader

cw- igs angst idk i js needed plot to build up, fluff, highschool toru

analysis- your ex leaves you & satoru gets stood up

a/n- HEY PEOPLES i just wanna thank you for all the support and love yall are giving me im close to 1k and i wanna do a special so ill be having a poll posted soon, also this story was heavily influenced by strangers things season 2 when nancy was dancing with dustin !

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"are you fucking shitting me ?" your stern voice could be heard by your ex, who was standing in front of you dancing with another girl but quickly removed her away from him the second he saw your face. "is this what you meant by be right back? to go blow me off with this bitch?" you point to the girl he was dancing with, completely shocked because not to be rude but you knew your self worth and this was just down right disrespectful. "baby i swear she's just a friend-" you tune him out making an overly dramatic eye roll as you feel your eyes began to water, honestly you didn't even know why exactly this little situation had you threatening to spill tears.

your ex was embarrassing you nothing new before- this was the same routine, the same cycle, and he had the same excuse every. single. time. you wanted to quite literally punch yourself in the face for falling for it yet again.

There was something in your gut telling you going to the snowball with your ex would have horrible results, yet you ignored your female intuition and went anyways, now you stood here looking so idiotically stupid in front of everyone as your confront this piece of shit. honestly ? you weren't even close to being as upset as you were embarrassed. hell the only reason you found out what he was doing on his "bathroom break" was because your friend pointed him out with a "uh girl- ain't that yo man?"

"bottom line is- you mean more to me than she does" is he serious ?.. "oh so she means something to you? just not as much as me right" the girl look so uncomfortable in this situation she began to remove herself from the middle of you two "little word of advice sweetheart, don't date him in the future, he's just looking to get his dick wet."

"wha- no what are you- why are you putting words in my mouth?! you know what are being such a bitch about this! jesus y/n you're always blowing things way out of proportion it's why i can't stay in a damn relationship with you ! and i try so hard to be nice but it's like you latch on to me like a fucking leech, just admit it without me you would be nothing! you had no one before me, no one loved you until I came along. your so god damn annoying seriously." staring in absolute disbelief and your eyes are so hot as people were now looking his way wondering what was going on and why his voice was growing louder and louder by the minute.

"let me tell you something you sick fuck. I am my own person and i do not need a little boy who's insecure about his penis size to contradict me about me and my life, you may have gotten me to come out of my shell but you didn't make shit, you are not my father nor my mother so you have absolutely no right to speak to me the way you're doing right now. I am a growing woman with my own liberties and ideals and if you didn't see that before, then that says a lot about the way you view me." hot tears are not streaming down your face as you make your way back to the table you were sitting at. you had made sure to keep your voice down so you wouldn't attract a crowd because lord knows all hell would've broken lose.

you sat at the table trying to dry your tears as a wave of nausea comes over you, feeling upset about everything that just happened as his words relayed in your head 'no one loved you' no. he was wrong so utterly wrong, you had friends, great ones in fact, you even had a best friend the one who stuck by your side through thick and thin.

---

"shit" satoru cursed out as he realized he was crying, he was currently sitting behind the flimsy decorations the at covered the bleachers, alone and out of sight form everyone who could see how pathetic he looked right now.

crying over a female.

satoru honestly didn't even know why exactly this little situation had him crying, he had been showed up. nothing new before- girls who flirt with him for his wealth and ditch as soon as the connections start. of course he was used to it, sad but true. he came to the conclusion of it wasn't the girl herself that he was crying over. it was his inability to find love. most people would laugh when if they hear that satoru was true a lover boy, especially with his reputation for moving into different relationships faster than a virgin boy cumming for the first time.

in fact he had been in more flings you can count on your fingers just this semester. but it wasn't on purpose it's not like his goal was to become a pass around. it just sorta happened...

satoru was more upset than he had realized. thoughts running around his head about how unlucky his love life was. He sat on the bleachers, on the last day and most important moment of the first semester of his senior year, crying and alone.

it was so unfair, he had come here with a group of friends and though they didn't come with dates it sure as hell looked like they were leaving with one, suguru and shoko didn't even have a plus one but in the mist of waiting with satoru on his, they had both picked up someone to dance with. which was fine, he couldn't bring himself to be envy of his friends love life. hell even his best friend who stuck by his side through thick and thin was probably around the gymnasium somewhere slow dancing with her-

"hey." satoru immediately wipes his face as he hears your voice. "uh hey, what's up?" he looks up at you hoping you wouldn't notice his red and puffy eyes, but you were his best friend so of course you did.

"are you okay?" walking over to the bleachers you sit a couple feet away from him "yeah, heh why wouldn't i be?" he said with a little sniffle "oh well- this is just an observation but maybe it has something to do with the fact that you're crying... and alone" shit you had noticed, satoru did not like the feeling swarming inside his tummy he felt self-conscious. he didn't want to look so vulnerable infront of you

"well- technically i'm not alone, you're here" he looks up at you giving his infamous cocky smile that you've grown the love you can't help but giggle at his antics "what's funny?" "you" you catch yourself smiling a little to hard at him which causes you to clear your throat and switch the topic of the conversation. "so uh- where's your date?" looking off to the side his smile faded as soon as it came "i don't know if i should tell you, it's pretty lame" he spreads his legs further slouching down as he picks at his fingernails in the middle of his lap.

"satoru i've been your friend since middle school... i've seen your emo phase" his eyes shoot open as he looks over at you in horror "oh my god! you remember that?" a pink hue dusted his cheeks as he remembers the sight of that god awful side part and horrible black eye liner (sorry nanami) "of course i do" you let out with a laugh gojo leans his head back and groan bringing his hands up to cover his face out of embarrassment. laughing once more you decide to scoot in closer, now sitting right next to him, opposite to the few feet when you were away from him. "so?"

"i've been stood up" his eyes falls into his lap not having the guts to see your face of empathy right now. "if it makes you feel better" you lean back and stretch your arms out on the row behind you eyes having the same fate as his "my ex ditched me for someone else then proceeded to call me annoying" gojo felt his heart squeeze as he looked up to see the waterline of your eyes activate "he's a piece of shit, seriously i don't even know why you keep going back to him" redness around his eyes slowly faded and started to fill with anger as he talked about your ex "it's cause- i just- i just want to be loved by someone who truly wants me for me and every time he walks into my life it's usually at one of my lowest points and i just fall right for it!" your best friend watched intensely as he took in every word you were saying as you began to pour your heart out to him all the while in his head agreeing with you since all he wanted was to be loved.

"i mean its so hard to find someone in this generation who truly cares about me, it's like im" you lean forward and put your face in you palms eyebrows furrowed as you let your frustrations out

"doomed for love"

the two of you make eye contact shocked that the same words fell from both of your lips "i get you in so many ways you wouldn't even understand." a comfortable silence fills the air around you for a moment until he broke it (fucking blabbermouth) "for the record, i don't think your annoying, and-" mumbling the last part you look over in confusion "what did you say?" the blush began to creep back up his neck as he looks to the side "i said-" he voice went inaudible once again "toru i can't hear you" "i said you look beautiful tonight!" he suddenly shouted, turning back around to look you in your eyes, the two of you just looked at eachother not knowing what to say next "well thank you, i think that you look very handsome" you scootch over more and lean you head on to his shoulder

at first satoru tenses up not sure what to do but as time went on he relaxes, slowly bringing a hand around to your waist to pull you in even closer into a nice side hug as the two of you watch the other people have fun on the dance floor "jesus, suguru can not dance" letting out a sigh satoru puts his head down embarrassed for his friend who was currently making a damn fool of himself infront of his date you giggle looking around the gymnasium spotting your closet girl friend "if you think he's bad look at shoko" you sit up and he follows suit only for his jaw to drop at the her cruel dance moves "what about-"

"utahime" in unison the two of you burst into laughter as you seemingly spot her at the same time, she was moving her hips so off beat that it was unusual, but hey at least she was happy. after the fit of giggles you return back into the position before "you know, we shouldn't even have come to this thing in the first place- it's so corny i mean cmon, what's next there gonna play a thousand years by christina pe-"

"heart beats fast"

"oh you've gotta be shitting me" you cackle at the perfect timing of his crude joke as he leans back once more. you take it upon your self to get up and stick your hand out in front of him "y-you wanna dance?" rolling your eyes you snatch him up by his blazer dragging him to the make shift dance floor "uh, i'm not sure if i-" "relax you got this, just like we practiced" right. how could he forget that the two of you practice slow dancing together (it was his idea since he didn't want to embarrass himself) just the night before.

you stretch you arms out behind him, caressing where his smooth skin and the fluffiness tuffs of his hair connected as he wrapped his arms around your mid back the two of you smoothly swayed from side to side looking into at another with a smile. "hey let's try something" satoru says he then adjust your hands on him for a more comfortable position and soon enough he's leading the way as the two of you dance together laughing at the little stumbles here and there "okay you ready?" "yeah" just then satoru spins you around so lightly you would think that he thinks you're made of glass, fragile. everthing is in slow motion and you don't catch it, but your best friend looks at you with love filling his eyes. you looked so beautiful. your pink dress illuminating under the fairy lights that hung around. gojo satoru had never seen such beauty in his life. he begins to think how lucky he is to have someone like you in his life. after the spin is over he brings you into a hug one hand wrapped its long arm around your back and the other pushes your head into his chest and he leans his neck down to give you a small kiss on your forehead. the hug catches you off guard by its firmness but you reciprocate nun the less.

"wanna go back to my place and watch a movie?"