#ask if there's anything more low key i can do

[wwereaderinserts]

Hey @wwereaderinserts you think you could do that with Damian Priest and Rhea Ripley NSFW alphabet too?

Please 🙏🏾💗

So I've gone ahead and done the whole alphabet for this one and I chose Priest, though I did find doing the whole thing a little overwhelming so I will say that going forward I will do one character and 5 letters at a time per request.

NSFW under the cut, MINORS DNI.

NSFW Alphabet with Damian Priest

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex) He doesn’t even think about himself after sex until he knows for sure that you’re completely satisfied and taken care of. He’ll check in and ask if it was okay for you or if it was too much for you at all. He’ll hold you afterwards if that’s what you want from him, too.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s) On himself, his hands. It doesn’t matter if he’s just running his hands over your skin or groping certain parts of you, he loves the feel of your body under them and how good he knows he can make you feel with them. On you, it’s a tie between your ass and chest. He loves grabbing a handful of your ass during sex if he can, but he also can’t restrain himself from marking your chest up either.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically) He prefers to finish inside you, but if you don’t want him to do that, his second choices would be on your lower back or chest/stomach depending on positions.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs) He’s definitely dominant during sex, but he has this fantasy of you tying him to the bed and taking your time with him, letting you take control of the reins just for once. You both tried it one time and you used handcuffs. Somewhere in all the excitement, you misplaced the key and couldn’t find it anywhere after you two were done. He was cuffed there for about an hour and a half while you were pulling up videos on your phone to try figuring out how you could fully get him out of the cuffs. After that whole debacle, you both decided to stick to ropes for the foreseeable.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?) Oh he knows exactly what he’s doing, he’s very experienced. He could actually probably even show you a few things.

F = Favorite position The crab. He likes having you on top in general, but there’s something even more special about watching you spread your legs wider for him in this position so he can watch himself moving in and out of you. Being able to see just how much he’s splitting you open does it for him.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.) He knows how to have a laugh in the moment, of course, so he’s not strictly serious, but this man also means business. He’s not satisfied until your legs are shaking and you’re completely fucked out.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.) He definitely keeps it well maintained down there. Trimmed rather low, maybe even clean shaven if the mood takes him.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect) He can be rather intimate at times if it’s not just a quickie. There’s near constant eye contact, he’s whispering sweet nothings in your ear, kissing you so passionately to the point of taking your breath away.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon) Even before you got together, it wasn’t really all that frequent, so nothing has really changed there. He can go for a fair amount of time without because he’d rather get all his pent up energy out when he gets the chance to be with you.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks) Knife play. He’s not above taking one from his collection of weapons to use on you, not to scratch or anything more than that, but just for you to feel the sensation of it against your skin if he’s not using it to rip your underwear off. If he cools it off or heats it up slightly too? Whole different ball game from that sensation. Though if that’s a definite no from you, he’s not going to try convincing you to try it at all and he respects that.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do) Prefers keeping things private in the setting of your home or your hotel room if you’re on the road, but he’s not against finding a secluded spot and going for it with you in the car either if neither of you can wait any longer.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going) If he’s not totally beat after a long day, being upfront with him about what you want and that it’s him who you want it from is enough to get him going, whether it’s telling him directly or him walking in on you, spread out, ready and waiting there for him. Nine times out of ten, this man is gonna pounce.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs) He’s pretty open minded, but he’d never do anything that you didn’t want to do or anything that crosses your boundaries, nor would he hurt you in any way.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.) He likes receiving too, but he’s giving for his pleasure as well as your own. Give this man the chance to bury his face between your thighs and it’s like something snaps inside him, and he can’t get enough.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.) It depends on what mood he’s in. If it’s a quickie or if it’s been a while and he can’t wait to have you, he’s fast and a little rough with it. But if you two have the time to yourselves, he’s taking it slow and sensual with you.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.) He doesn’t mind them. He’d much rather be able to take his time with you, but he won’t turn down the opportunity for one if you’re also up for it. Even though it’s just a quickie, he’ll still leave you utterly satisfied.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.) He’s up to experiment a little bit if you are, though there probably isn’t much left that he hasn’t already tried at this point.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?) He knows how to pace himself, so he easily has two rounds in him at the very least which last quite a while.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?) He doesn’t personally own any himself, but he’s more than willing to use yours on you if you own any. He’s not opposed to them at all, he finds that it makes things even more fun.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease) He does like to tease a fair bit. He likes you pent up and begging for him. It makes all the build up all the more satisfying when you fully get your hands on each other that way.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.) He’s more of a grunter and a groaner, but you’ll be able to drag the odd moan out of him as well. He gets quite vocal too and he 100% will talk you through it, praises you, asks you how it feels, tells you that you’re taking him well, etc.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character) He might be a little obsessed with the size difference between you both…in many ways. He loves the way he towers over you, the way you drown in his shirts when you slip one on, how his hands dwarf yours, the way he can easily overpower you in bed, how you struggle to take all of him sometimes…the list goes on.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes) He’s a big boy. He’s on the thicker side, and his length isn’t anything to turn your nose up at either, so it’s probably a little intimidating to look at first off. I’d say he’s probably 7 inches in length at the very least. Has a few prominent veins and curves slightly to the right.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?) It’s not ridiculously high. He can survive without his fill of you for a little bit if you’re both busy, but he definitely doesn’t take much convincing to get down to it and it’s usually him that’s the instigator.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards) He’ll intentionally stay awake for a bit, just to make sure that you don’t need anything else from him at all. Even then, he doesn’t fall asleep easily after sex, unless you absentmindedly play with his hair while you two are cuddling together afterwards

[doublestandardlove]

im in quite the pickle;-;

i had rehearsal today til 10pm. i didnt know that on monday, when i scheduled myself to come in for a work call tomorrow at 10am.

the problem is, i live 40 mins away from campus AND don't have a driver's license/car. so i have to take the bus. but in order to that, someone has to drive me to the bus stop. luckily, my father has agreed to take me.

it takes three hours to get to campus. 20-30 mins to get to the bus stop. That means waking up at 6-7 am.

I'm waiting for the bus to get home right now. I'll probably get there around 1-2 am.

So the question is:

i am so cooked;_;

[wannabemylover]

i need buddie to have a normal wedding. no one else has had a normal wedding (ig excluding henren vow renewal) and buddie needs to have a normal one. they all deserve it

[allisonreader]

I'm in a mood, so below are some more personal ramblings.

This hasn't come up recently, but I find that in this particular moment that I am thinking about it. And that is most people's perception of me, both in person and online. I find it so interesting that the general perception of me is this bright, bubbly personality that can lighten the mood with my smile. (Obviously this is extremely a generic description but it is apt. As I have been told it in some variation throughout my life.)

But quite literally since at least kindergarten, the two most common comments on my report cards throughout my school career were about how I was a delight to have in class and my smile always lit up the classroom with my particular knack for procrastination mentioned shortly after.

I've always been the one with a smile to the point where more than once in high school when I had a more neutral expression on my face, I had people ask me out of concern if something was wrong, when nothing was.

So anyways I do think that it's interesting that this perception of me even bleeds into how I come across online. That this "sunshine and rainbows" sort of positive personality shines through what I write and post, even though I feel like it doesn't always. But I've had more than one person make comments that say exactly that to some degree. Bright is often used.

And I guess why I'm thinking about this right now is because at the moment I certainly don't feel bright or bubbly. Right now I feel a touch lonely. Which aches across the chest.

A big problem I have though is that I like to bury and ignore that feeling sometimes. I will sometimes reach out to people, but will I admit to why I'm trying to contact anyone, no. Because why admit to loneliness or anything else? Not when you can bury them down deep. I'm not looking for any advice, because I know what the solution is. It's getting out there, reaching out to people whether I want to or not and going and doing something. (Here enters procrastination once again.)

Anyways I just needed to write that out currently. And now this can get lost in the void. Though I am up for a chat.

[plutotheplum]

Socks and Kisses

leon kennedy x fem!reader

summary: a spontaneous shopping trip has leon re-evaluating his friendship with you.

cw: nsfw (18+) - mdni!!, smut, p in v, spanking, oral sex, praise kink, fluff, friends/roommates to lovers, fantasizing

wc: 3.7k

also posted on ao3!

There’s a shriek leaving you when you trip over a bundle of shoes in the doorway. It nearly sends you hurtling towards the floor, but there’s an arm curling around your waist, tugging you up before you can fall. Leon.

You glare up at your roommate, shoving at his chest so it sends him stumbling.

“Seriously, Leon? How many times have I told you to put your shoes to the side of the doorway?” you snap, crossing your arms over your chest.

He winces at your shrill voice, his hand rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly.

“I was busy,” he says, his eyes pleading with you, “you know with… with work.”

You’re shooting him an unimpressed look, pushing past him to put the groceries on the kitchen counter. It was your day to collect them anyways. Living with Leon had happened entirely by accident. One shittily written apartment listing later and the poor guy was standing outside your door, begging you to let him move in. It hadn’t been so bad. Leon had been nice, and you two had gotten along well, becoming friends even. The only thing you couldn’t stand was how messy the man was.

Empty boxes from delivered packages, stray parchment sheets from when he’d bake himself something and socks strewn haphazardly across the floor, much like his shoes. Leon had practically turned your apartment into a deathtrap. 

You don’t get to reminisce for much longer, not when he’s reaching for the pack of popsicles you’d bought. Leon lets out a low whine, like a kicked puppy, when you swat his hand away and shoot him an irritated glance. “I’m putting my foot down,” you tell him firmly, “no more unorganized socks, shoes or- or anything for that matter!”

Leon only tilts his head, blinking over at you. You glance towards the clock before your eyes are flitting back to meet his.

“Ikea,” you explain, “we’re going to Ikea to get you some organizers or whatever.” 

“ Now? ” Leon asks, raising his brows “but I was going to go to the gym with Chris and-” he’s shutting up when he sees your hardened glare.

Leon lets out an exasperated huff, and you’re smiling over at him, happy you’ve won this argument. Just to reward him, you’re digging out a popsicle from the pack and handing it to him. “So stubborn,” he mumbles under his breath, freeing the popsicle from its wrapper. 

“I heard that,” you reply, sticking your tongue out at him.

You both finish up your popsicles, and you’re tossing him his car keys while you pull your shoes on again. 

“Why do I have to drive?” he complains, leaning against the doorway.

“Because it’s your mess,” you retort, rolling your eyes, “and you’re paying as well.”

Leon lets out a scoff, “oh, fuck you.”

You smile back at him, patting him on the shoulder for some comfort. You manage to annoy him a little more during the drive to Ikea, and Leon’s contemplating whether he should just stuff your mouth with the rolled up catalog you’re currently holding

It’s when you both get to the kitchen area that Leon realizes something’s wrong. His eyes are watching the way you bend over the model kitchen counter, gaze trained on the way your skirt rides up slightly, exposing the backs of your thighs. He swallows harshly, wondering what it might be like to come up behind you, grab your hips and grind his cock against your ass. 

Your voice breaks him out of his dazed thoughts, your hand waving him over as you point to the price tag.

“Don’t you think this is a catch?” You ask him, head tilting back to meet his eyes.

“A catch?” He echoes, raising his brows, “it’s $2000 . Do you even have $2000?” 

You roll your eyes, elbowing him in the stomach. “Don’t be such a jerk, Leon. I think it’d look good in our apartment.”

There it is. Our apartment. The words are so comfortably domestic that it has Leon’s knuckles squeezing tight around the basket he’s holding. He’d be lying if he said he hasn’t imagined you two dating. Especially after that time he’d come home drunk one night. You’d taken care of him so sweetly, despite all of your grumbles and chastisements, that Leon felt like he was falling in love.

That had only happened once though, and Leon wasn’t prepared to make a big deal about his feelings so he buried them deep down and carried on with his life.

He doesn’t have time to dwell on his little crush any longer, brows furrowing when he feels the basket in his hand grow heavier. You’ve been milling about, dumping various little trays and organizational tidbits into the basket.

“At this point, I think you’re trying to max out my card,” he drawls, trailing after you.

“I’m helping you, Leon” you shoot back, bringing a candle up to your nose to smell its scent.

It’s not until you both get to the bedding area that Leon realizes he might actually be losing it. 

He’s sitting down on the edge of one of the beds, the basket settled on the floor with how heavy it’s become. 

You’re fluttering about, checking out the duvet covers and pillow cases. His eyes watch over you, letting you take a seat beside him on the bed when you find a duvet cover you like.

“Pretty, right?” You ask him, showing him the design.

“I guess,” he murmurs absentmindedly. 

He thinks you look prettier though. Besides, it’s not like he can tell you that he’s imagining taking you on this very bed. Your face pressed into the pillows, his cock stuffed into your pussy. You’d probably make cute noises too, clench around his cock while he thrusted into you. He’d let everyone watch, he thinks, make sure everyone knew that you were his. 

You’re snapping your fingers in his face, trying to get him to pay attention to you.

“Are you okay?” You ask, staring into his eyes “you keep getting distracted.”

“What?” Leon flushes, clearing his throat “yeah- yeah I’m fine… just had enough of you is all.”

You swat his shoulder and he rolls his eyes. Both of you manage to get to the checkout without any further bickering. Leon’s card doesn’t max out thankfully, but you wince when you see the total, ignoring Leon’s glower as he tears the receipt from the machine.

To make up for the spontaneous shopping spree, you buy him a soft serve and hand it to him with a smile. 

Leon takes it with a grumble, his eyes dropping to the way you lick at your soft serve. The icy treat smudges across your lips, and he’s reaching out before he can stop himself, his thumb swiping at the corner of your mouth to clean the mess. 

“Think you might be the messy one,” he mutters gruffly, drawing his hand back. 

“Your socks alone have nearly crippled me” you reply, nibbling at the cone to try and quell the race of your heart at his unexpected action. 

Leon lets out a loud sigh, shaking his head. The drive home is quiet, the soft sounds of the radio filling up the car’s space.

You help Leon with the stuff you bought, leaving the goods in his room before letting out a satisfied nod.

“There. Now you don’t have an excuse for being messy. Better start cleaning up, Leon” you chirp, giving him a snarky smile before tugging his door shut.

You sigh happily, mind feeling at ease. You’re sure that your apartment won’t be so messy anymore. The sounds of Leon rummaging inside his room almost make you feel bad, but this had been going on for months and you were glad you had done something about it. 

Deciding to grab some food, you reach for the can of peaches on the kitchen counter. By some misfortune, your hand accidentally knocks the can, sending it rolling towards the edge. Letting out an irritated huff, you’re reaching across the counter to grab the can before it falls off. 

While this happens, you’re blissfully unaware of the fact that your skirt is riding up. Leon feels his heart nearly jump out of his chest at the sight when he had wandered out of his room to grab a garbage bag. 

He can see the swell of your ass, your cheeks peeking out from your panties as you’re bent over, grabbing the can of peaches. 

“Have you made it some sort of mission to bend over every kitchen counter you see?” he asks dryly, his arms crossing over his chest.

You squeak in surprise, body jolting. The can of peaches slips from your hand pitifully, landing on the floor with a loud thunk .

“Why are you sneaking up on me?” You whine, turning to give him a glare.

Leon doesn’t reply, coming to a stop in front of you. His blue eyes are dark, dirty blonde hair hanging over his forehead.

“Um… Leon?” You wave your hand in front of his face. 

“I’m starting to think you’re doing it on purpose,” he murmurs, his hand catching yours.

“Hm?” he squeezes your hand, his head lowering so he can stare right into his eyes, “bending over every kitchen counter so I can see your pretty ass?” 

You manage to gather your wits, letting out a loud scoff and push at his chest.

“You’re such a perv, Leon!” you accuse, narrowing your eyes and placing your hands on your hips. 

“I’m not a perv if you keep bending over like that!” he shoots back, his hands grabbing at your forearms to tug you towards him. 

You swallow harshly when his calloused hands drift past your wrists, finding your hands and lacing his fingers with yours. The warmth of his body seeps into yours and your head is tilting, eyes finding his.

“We- we are not fucking,” you whisper, shaking your head.

“Who said anything about fucking?” Leon asks, his head lowering again. 

His body presses against yours, causing your breath to hitch. You’re biting your lip at the way it feels, the hard planes of his body molding against yours.

“One kiss,” he whispers, peering into your eyes, “please? Just one kiss and it’ll be over.”

You’d be doing yourself a disservice if you denied his request. Leon was stupidly handsome even if he was a little annoying at times, and you had maybe masturbated to the thought of your roommate before.

“Did you happen to forget that we’re roommates?” you raise your brows, trying to voice your concerns.

“Roommates kiss all the time,” he says, his nose nudging against yours gently, “now c’mon, gimme a kiss.”

You don't know what sort of roommates he’s been hanging around, but you’re almost certain that roommates don’t kiss or do whatever the hell you two are doing right now. 

Leon doesn’t know what he’s doing either. That one shopping trip had seriously messed up his brain, but he was here now so there was no going back. Your lips look so pretty, your eyes all starry. He wants to kiss you senseless and bend you over that stupid kitchen counter while he fucks into you until you’re crying on his cock.

As if to encourage you a little more, he nudges his nose against yours again. You send him a glare, eyes slipping shut as you rock up on the tips of your toes and brush your lips against his. The kiss is fleeting, a mere touch of your lips against his, and it’s safe to say Leon is not impressed.

“There,” you say, trying to hide the smirk that spreads across your face, “you got a kiss. Now leave me alone.”

Leon lets out a low groan, his head falling against your shoulder, “you’re a fuckin’ tease, you know that?”

You hum, pushing at his chest, taking the opportunity to free yourself from the confines of his grasp.

“Not so fast,” he murmurs, his hand snagging onto your shirt, “c’mere baby.”

His low voice has the butterflies in your stomach fluttering, your eyes widening when his hands cup your cheeks and he presses his lips against yours.

It doesn’t take you long to respond, arms wrapping around his neck as he kisses you fiercely. He groans into your mouth, his arms winding around your waist to pull you closer. 

You’re both flush against each other and you let out an irritated noise when he shoves you up against the kitchen counter, feeling the solid surface dig into your back.

“Drove me crazy at that Ikea,” he whispers against your lips, his hands sneaking under your skirt to give your ass an appreciative grope, “thought about fucking you on one of those beds.”

The idea of it is so obscene and indecent that you find yourself moaning out loud.

“Yeah? You like that, baby? Me fucking you in front of everyone, letting them know that you’re mine?” 

You’re nodding desperately at his filthy questions, trying to tug his shirt off so you can see his chest and abdomen. He obliges you, quickly shrugging off his shirt. Your teeth sink into your lower lip at the sight, eyes half-lidded. 

You can’t help the way your body leans forward, lips pressing soft kisses across his chest and his pecs. Leon sucks in a sharp breath, his hands moving to cradle the back of your head.

“Just kisses, huh?” he murmurs.

You nod, peering up at him “no fucking, remember?”

He hums, tilting your head so he can kiss you again. Leon kisses you over and over until you can’t breathe. You’re feeling so dazed that you don’t even notice he’s spinning you around, bending you over the kitchen counter. There’s a soft whine escaping you when he flips your skirt up, his hands squeezing at your ass before his fingers slip under your panties, tugging the fabric back and letting it snap back against you.

Your fingers are scrabbling at the counter top when you feel him drop to his knees, his lips pressing against the skin of your ass. He kisses your body so reverently, you think you might actually pass out.

“Wanna kiss your pussy too,” he mumbles, tugging your panties down. You shudder when you feel his breath hit your sensitive skin, hips swaying back to meet the kisses he places on your clit.

His tongue lolls out before long, lapping at your cunt, collecting the slick that drips from you. 

“That- that is not kissing,” you whimper out, head falling against the coolness of the counter.

“Sure it is,” he whispers, burying his face deeper into your pussy, “just dirty kisses, sweetheart.”

The way he eats you out is messy. Leon’s trying to shove his face deeper between your thighs, his lips suctioning around your pussy. You mewl when he draws back and spits on your cunt, his mouth latching on soon after. You’re not sure how much longer you can hold on, knees beginning to shake. Leon delivers a particularly toe-curling suck to your clit and you’re shuddering, letting out whines and whimpers when he lets out a low laugh, his tongue swiping over your cunt repeatedly.

“Leon- fuck! Leon, ‘m gonna-” you can barely speak properly. 

“Then come , baby,” he whispers, his tongue pressing into your fluttering hole.

You squeal at the unfamiliar sensation, knuckles turning white as you come on his tongue. He licks up your slick eagerly, his wet lips pressing soft kisses against the swell of your ass as you pant.

He stands up, tucking his face into the crook of your neck. You press your back against his chest, turning your head to kiss along his jaw. His eyes flutter shut, his hands smoothing along your back to undo the clasp of your bra. 

Your arms lift and Leon helps you take off your shirt and bra, letting out a soft sigh as your head falls back against his shoulder. Leon’s hands are restless, reaching for your breasts. 

He hums at the sight of your hard nipples, pinching and rolling them between his fingers before letting go to squeeze your tits. 

“You’re real pretty, sweetheart” he whispers, kissing your cheek.

You mewl, cheeks flushing. You hadn’t expected him to talk to you so sweetly. Leon feels your body lurch forward, tits pressing against his palms. He laughs, giving another firm grope to your tits and finds your lips to give you another filthy kiss. While he kisses you, Leon grinds his hips against your ass, and you gasp into his mouth, feeling the outline of his cock through his shorts.

“Think my cock wants to give your cute pussy some kisses too,” he says, his mouth pressed against your ear, “you up for it, baby?”

You could be a bobblehead with how fast your head is moving up and down. Leon grins against your ear, placing another kiss to your cheek before he’s bending you over the counter. The coolness of the counter startles you slightly, but Leon’s hand rubs up and down your back, warming your skin. 

Tits squished against the hard surface, your feet on the tips of your toes, pussy glistening with his spit and your arousal, Leon can hardly believe his fantasy has come to fruition. He wants to take a picture, keep it safe and jerk off to the sight of you when he’s alone. There’s no pictures taken though, instead Leon’s hand delivers a heavy slap to one of your ass cheeks.

You moan, back arching slightly as you try and chase the feeling. It hurts and you can feel the sting of his palm prickling across your skin, but you want him to spank you again so badly.

“L- Leon, want more,” you mumble, looking back at him.

Leon takes your request in stride, his hand coming down on your ass repeatedly. Your body slumps against the counter, soft noises escaping you as he rains slap after slap onto your reddening skin. 

“Shit, sweetheart” he whispers, his hands smoothing over the damage he’s done to your ass “so fuckin’ pretty.”

There’s a babbled noise escaping you. Mind feeling like mush, all you can think about is Leon. He smooths his hands over your sensitive skin a few more times, trying to soothe the pain before you feel him squeeze gently as he presses the head of his cock against your aching hole.

Leon pushes into your pussy with a groan, his hands squeezing at your hips. It almost feels like he’s trying to ground himself.

“Fuck-” he hisses, drawing his hips back to thrust back into you again, “ fuck - you’re so tight, baby.”

You whimper at the feeling of his cock stretching you out. Leon’s thrusts are beginning to pick up in speed and you’re whining, the force of his thrusts making your body rub against the kitchen counter.

“Leon, Leon, Leon,” you chant his name and his body is draping over yours, lips pressing kisses to your shoulder and back, “feels so good,” you slur. 

His hips are rutting against your ass, cock stuffing you full. You’re moaning so loudly that Leon has to slip his hand over your mouth in an effort to quieten your noises. His balls are slapping against your clit and the combined stimulation is making your head spin.

Soon, his hand is leaving your mouth to grip your hips again. 

“Take my fucking cock,” he grunts, each word punctuated with a harsh slap to your ass. 

“It’s too much!” you wail, nails clawing at the counter to try and crawl away.

He growls, grip tightening as he keeps you in place, “don’t you dare run. Take my cock like a good girl, baby.”

“You’re insane,” you cry, but there’s a cockdrunk smile spreading across your face as he fucks into you. 

“Yeah,” he whispers, his head lowering so he can whisper into your ear, “and it’s all for you, because- because I like you.” 

There’s a loud whine ripping out of you at that, wet heat clenching around him. No one’s confessed to you before, like ever . You suck in a sharp breath, trying to calm your heart and stop the excited flipping of your stomach that comes with his confession.

Leon moans when he feels the clench of your walls around his cock and he’s fucking into you with renewed fervor. 

“I like you,” he whispers again “like you so much, sweetheart. Always taking care of me, looking out for me, makes me feel special.” 

“Only do that ‘cause you’re an idiot, Leon” you mumble, swallowing back another moan that threatens to spill out. 

“But you do it anyway,” he murmurs, driving his cock into you.

You gasp, eyes squeezing shut as his fat tip grazes the spot deep inside of you. He grunts when he feels you getting tighter, feels you clenching hard around his cock.

“You gonna come for me?” he asks, sucking little love bites onto your neck, “hm? Can feel you clenching around me, baby.”

“Wanna- wanna come at the same time,” you babble “right, Leon? Since- since you like me, we gotta come at the same time.”

He’s letting out a hoarse laugh, kissing your shoulder again, “yeah baby, I’m right there with you.”

All of a sudden, he’s burying himself to the hilt inside of you and your mouth drops open, a sharp noise leaving you as you both come. Your body is limp against the counter, body covered in a thin sheen of sweat as you pant. Leon kisses your neck, letting out a whine as his cum spurts into you. It’s warm and thick, filling you up so perfectly that it has a serene smile settling on your face.

He helps you onto your feet, his hands rubbing up and down your sides to soothe your shaky legs. You feel him press a soft kiss to the side of your head and you’re rocking up on the tips of your toes, returning a kiss to his cheek.

“I like you too, Leon” you whisper, arms wrapping around his neck to pull him down for another kiss. 

You can feel him smile against your lips and he’s kissing you back sweetly. Leon keeps you there for a while as you both kiss, his hands petting across your tired body.

He takes you to his room later, his hand encasing yours. The moment is almost perfect, if not for the sock on the floor that sends you careening into his desk. “Leon!” you grit out.

He only laughs, his arms wrapping around your waist as he picks you up and tosses you onto his bed.

“Sorry, sweetheart.”

[dollishmehrayan]

# “WOULD YOU DO ANYTHING FOR ME?, BUY A BIG DIAMOND RING FOR ME?” ── .✦ ( how batboys act when they’re engaged w reader )

dollish note ౨ৎ: I lowkey crashed out over losing Americans on tiktok but this woke up to post on tumblr but hey, also can we talk about how trump used that as a pr stunt && thought we wouldn’t notice wtf like omgg the way many americans caught on, alsoo please leave some motivation for me because I just kinda lost motivation for this app after the tiktok thingy went down 🫠 tags: (batboys x engaged!reader)

© dollishmehrayan — ( all rights reserved to me. These works cannot be reposted, translated, or modified. Thank you for understanding dollies! )

DICK GRAYSON ── .✦

Over the moon and not afraid to show it. Dick tells everyone the second you say yes. Alfred? He knows. Random stranger in the grocery store? The metro security guy?, Yep, they know too. He’s got that goofy, lovestruck grin plastered on his face 24/7.

Wedding planning enthusiast. You thought you’d do most of the planning? Wrong. Dick’s fully invested, showing you Pinterest boards of venues, color schemes, and “Do you think Nightwing blue (dollish note: I think ‘#3366CC’ perhaps?) would be tacky for the napkins?”

Gets sappy at random times. You’ll catch him staring at you with a dreamy look, and when you ask why, he just shrugs. “I’m just thinking about how lucky I am.”, “Dick calm down you only proposed like 2 weeks ago.”

Brags to the Batfam constantly. “Guys, I’m going to be a husband! Can you believe it? Me! Richard Grayson!” Bruce pretends to be joyful a bit but he’s done hearing it for the 777x time but even he cracks a small smile when Dick won’t shut up about you.

Practices saying his vows in the mirror. You walked in on him once, and he was mortified. “Okay, but you didn’t hear the good part yet!”, “You literally finished the whole paper !!”

JASON TODD ── .✦

Acts like it’s not a big deal, but it’s huge for him. He’ll play it cool at first, saying something like, “It’s just a ring, babe.” But deep down, he’s nervous, excited, and trying not to let it show.

Keeps the engagement low-key. Jason’s not one for flashy announcements or grand gestures. He wants this to be something special between you two, not the whole world.

Protective x10. Now that you’re officially going to be his spouse, Jason is extra watchful. He’s already looking into ways to keep you safe and makes sure you’re never caught in the crossfire of his vigilante life.

Wants you to be 100% comfortable. He checks in with you constantly about the wedding plans. “We don’t have to do anything big, okay? Just say the word, and it’s done.” He’ll let you take the lead but secretly loves when you include him.

Teases you with the whole “fiancé” thing. “Hey, fiancée. Can you grab my coffee? Oh, did I mention you’re my fiancée now?” It’s his way of hiding how excited he really is.

TIM DRAKE ── .✦

Nervous wreck but totally in love. Tim overthinks everything after proposing. Did he pick the right ring? Did he say the right words? Is he even ready to be a husband? But every time he sees you smile, it calms him down.

Keeps it practical. Tim doesn’t want a huge engagement party or a grand wedding. He’s more focused on what your future together will look like your shared goals, finances, and making sure you’re both on the same page.

Researches marriage like it’s a mission. He has books on successful relationships, listens to podcasts, and even makes a checklist for wedding planning. You find it adorable when he starts using color coded spreadsheets.

Loves when you call him your fiancé. The first time you said it, he blushed so hard he had to look away. Now he’s low-key obsessed with hearing it. “You don’t have to keep calling me that… but don’t stop either.”

Gets emotional when he thinks about the future. You once caught him staring at the engagement ring on your finger, looking teary-eyed. When you asked what was wrong, he said, “I just can’t believe you’re actually mine.” (I would’ve smacked the shit out of him for that, I don’t do romance 🙄💪)

[joelslastofus]

[SUMMARY: Joel struggles to fight temptation with Sarah’s bestfriend after he’s forced to share a bed with her.]

Smut dry humping 18+

He knew it was best to sleep in his jeans, at least the heavy material would do better at hiding a boner he knew he would get.

Winter vacation with the Millers was something you had been looking forward to for the past month. Sarah and you were on break from college and had been best friends since high school. The two of you always planned vacations together and this time her dad and uncle were apart of the plans. A road-trip to Colorado to stay at a cabin and go skiing, you were so excited. The ride was about twelve hours long but you loved road-trips so you were perfectly fine with the time it would take to get there.

“Everybody packed?” Joel came out putting the last few bags on the back of his truck as Sarah came out in a panic.

“Shoot! I forgot to leave my work keys at the job”

“Doesn’t someone else have em?” Joel asked confused.

“Sidney is off and I was suppose to leave them for Matt, they’ll kill me. I’m so stupid”

“Alright relax-“ Tommy came in to the recuse as he usually did.

“I gotta drive by your job anyways and pick up a couple things, we’ll stop by your job and then continue heading to Colorado”

Sarah jumped up and down in relief.

“Oh uncle Tommy, you’re a savior”

“So I’ve been told” he shrugged with a chuckle.

“So what are we doin’?” Joel asked as you stood silently waiting for a plan.

“Sarah and I will go do what we gotta do and you and her can get a head start so we don’t miss our check in at the cabin”

“You want me to go with your dad?” You attempted to whisper to Sarah as he looked over at you.

“Yeah cause remember we booked the cabin under our names so me or you need to at least be there for check in” Sarah explained. Joel tried to hide his look of disapproval. Of course it wasn’t that he didn’t want to be around you, it was more so that he knew he shouldn’t be, especially alone.

“Alright well let’s get goin’” Tommy jumped in his truck as Sarah followed while you got in the car with Joel.

The drive was slightly awkward at first, being that Joel wasn’t much of a talker. His body felt tense as he drove, sneaking a glance at you as you looked out the window. You wore a jean skirt with a plain pink top, but all he could focus on was your legs.

“Mind if I put on the radio?”

He quickly looked away the second you spoke.

“Go ahead” he couldn’t help but notice your hand with red nails reach forward. God he hoped Tommy and Sarah wouldn’t take long doing what they had to do because Joel didn’t know long he could handle being alone with you.

“So are you excited?” You asked trying to make conversation.

“Course I am, been a while since I’ve gone skiing but I’m sure I still got it in me”

“Well maybe you can teach me” you spoke innocently, yet your words lingered in the air sending a shock of pleasure down his groin. He shifted in his seat as you sighed and changed the radio station not having any clue just how aroused you were making him simply by being in his presence.

Joel tried anything to get his mind off you, singing a song in his head, thinking about the last movie he saw, hell, anything to distract his mind from wandering off, especially with you right beside him. As the hours went by it helped that you had fallen asleep. Your hands folded on your lap as you leaned toward the door, Joel couldn’t help but take a slow look at you now that he could without being caught. He’d known you for a few years now but he didn’t know what the hell changed on you once you graduated high school. A simple look couldn’t hurt he convinced himself..

Not too long after, you woke up to Joel on the phone, whatever it was, you could tell he wasn’t happy about it.

“You’re kiddin’ me right?” Joel uttered low.

“Why the hell didn’t you say somethin’ earlier?” You crossed your arms sitting up wondering what was going on as he pulled over to the side of the road.

“The hell am I suppose to do now?” He continued, a few more words were said before he slammed his phone shut.

“What happened?” You spoke in a soft voice.

“Tommy’s truck broke down”

“What? We still have hours to go, where are they?”

“They’re three hours away”

“What?” You whispered confused.

It was ten at night and you had no idea where you were or what you were supposed to do.

“So now what?”

“We get a motel for the night, they’ll meet us in the mornin’-“

“A motel?“

Joel cleared his throat looking away, obvious discomfort on his face as he tried to hide how he felt about staying at a motel with you.

“Yeah, Sarah already called the cabin. We’ll make it there tomorrow” he continued to drive as you looked at the road confused.

Luckily Joel had found a motel up the road.

As soon as he entered the lobby he was clear in asking for two separate rooms or at least a room with two beds. Of course with his luck there was only one room available with one bed.

“Jesus christ” he ran his hand through his hair in frustration. With there not being another motel for another ten miles down Joel gave in and took the key.

Unlocking the door you could see how annoyed he felt, you figured it was because of delay in the trip. Pressing his lips together he looked up at you and motioned for you to walk in before him. The first sight of the bed sitting in the middle of the room you sighed as Joel stood behind you and shut the door.

“You can take the bed” he uttered low throwing his bag to the side.

“And where are you going to sleep?”

He pointed at a wooden chair in the corner of the room making you scoff.

“Don’t be ridiculous , Mr.Miller. You need proper rest, you’ve been driving for a few hours and-“

“I’ll do just fine on that chair” he insisted “and how many times do I have to tell you to just call me Joel”.

“Well, Joel, the bed is big enough for both of us, why make things harder for yourself?” you raised a brow as you took your bag and walked to the bathroom. Joel never thought he would ever find himself in a situation like this, his mind racing with things he found harder to ignore.

After changing into your pajamas you walked out of the room yawning making Joel turn to you. Instantly taken back by what you wore, an oversized t shirt that dropped down above your knees.

“The hell are you wearin’?”

“My pajamas?” You looked at him confused, his hands on his hips as he looked flustered.

“Ain’t there somethin’ else you could wear?”

“What’s wrong with what I’m wearing?” You tilted your head as he bit down on his bottom lip. There was no way Joel was going to be locked in a room with you just wearing an oversized shirt. You didn’t see anything wrong with it especially with how long it was.

“I’m gonna go get somethin’ from the truck” he uttered under his breath as he turned towards the door. Yeah, that’s what he figured he would do. Sleep in the car.

“Wait-“ you took a step forward.

“What?”

“Where are you going?”

“To my truck, I’ll sleep in the car and-“

“No!” You took another step forward.

“You can’t leave me alone in this motel…I-“

“Why not?” He furrowed his brows.

“It’s creepy and…I don’t know…I’m kinda scared to stay alone up here”

“You’re scared?” You could hear the irritation in his tone, God you were making it harder for the man to keep himself away from you.

“Yes, can you please stay”

Joel sighed looking away knowing he had no choice. He knew he couldn’t just leave you alone like that.

“Thank you” you whispered and headed to the bed.

“So what side do you prefer to sleep on?”

Joel looked up at you, clearly over the whole ordeal.

“I ain’t sleepin’ on the bed”

“You’re still going on with that? Look how big this bed is!” You took it upon yourself to choose a side and lay back.

“You know something Mr.Miller-Joel” you corrected yourself as you sat up.

“Sometimes I think you just don’t like me and I don’t know what I’ve done but whatever it is, I apologize”

Joel stood still, Jesus Christ, now he had you thinking he didn’t like you, which obviously was so very far from the truth. He cleared his throat, not exactly sure how to defend himself without being obvious how badly he actually wanted you.

“That ain’t it, sweetheart” his words were spoken softly, probably the softest he’s ever spoken to you. There was an awkward silence after that before you sighed and got under the covers.

“Well, if that’s not it, then I insist you lay on a bed to sleep. I won’t bother you I promise” he watched as you turned over and proceeded to close your eyes.

Giving in, he walked towards the bed. Still debating in his mind what he should and shouldn’t do. He knew it was best to sleep in his jeans, at least the heavy material would do better at hiding a boner he knew he would get.

“You didn’t pack pajamas?” You suddenly turned catching him off guard.

“Yeah uh-“

“Don’t tell me you’re gonna sleep with jeans on, that’s so uncomfortable” you turned back the way you were as Joel took a deep breath. Without saying a word he proceeded to change his clothes in the bathroom.

Sweats and a navy blue t shirt Joel awkwardly sat on the bed. It seemed as if you had already fallen asleep, if so, it definitely would be better for him. Laying on his back he looked at the ceiling, his knee up as he carefully tried not to move much with you beside him.

Maybe this wouldn’t be so bad he thought, just a few hours, make it through the night and everything would be fine, right? He couldn’t help but look over, the blanket covering your legs until you moved shifting its place on you. Now a hint of the back of your bear thighs exposed to him, he didn’t even realize he began to breathe hard. His eyes darting back and forth between the ceiling and your legs until he found it in him to reach over and attempt to cover you. Of course, just as he did you unexpectedly turned over toward him, his hand now trapped beneath the side of your thigh as you faced him.

“Shit” he whispered, his breathing becoming harder to control, a feeling of anticipation he couldn’t hide. His hand feeling your bare skin on him, he could feel the pressure in his chest when you abruptly turned away again.

God you were moving a lot, each movement taking him by surprise but now here you were with your ass poked out just inches away from his crotch area. Looking down, his hand ached to grab your waist and press himself against you. The scent of your vanilla spray filling the air, only weakening his fight. A soft sleepy moan escaping your lips making him look up, the sound you made only making his cock begin to the throb as it hardened in his pants when your phone began to buzz.

Joel quickly turned onto his back lifting the covers over him as you responded in a lazy like voice.

“Mhm. Sure…yeah…I’ll tell him” you sighed before clicking the phone off and turning to Joel.

“Sarah said-“ you stopped in your tracks noticing how fast paced his breathing was.

“Are you ok?” His knee blocking his erection as he refused to look at you.

“Joel?” You whispered.

“I’m fine” he responded in a much more aggressive tone than he meant to.

“Are…are you sure?”

He looked to you with a clenched jaw but he didn’t say a word. His mind going hazy the second he laid eyes on you, he knew he was no longer thinking straight. Joel felt like an animal was taking over him when he abruptly turned towards you and kissed you. You squealed in shock as his hand caressed the crook of your neck, he placed himself over you just before he pulled his lips away. You panted looking up at him in disbelief, how he managed to get himself between your legs so quickly you couldn’t say.

“Joel..” you whispered.

“You scared me” your words instantly setting a realization within him, regret was clear in his eyes.

“I’m sorry-“ but just before he attempted to remove himself, you gently placed your hand on his face. He closed his eyes savoring your touch, your legs adjusting around his waist allowing you to feel his fully erect member against you.

“So this is what it’s all been about…” you whispered somewhat amused as he looked away with shame.

“This ain’t right” you felt him about to move away and tightened your legs around him.

“Wait” you whispered.

“We don’t…we don’t have to do anything but you can just…just stay here” you felt yourself become aroused, the head of his cock against your pussy lips. Through his sweats you could feel the shape of him against you, your black lace underwear soaking up from your excitement. As good as it felt between your legs, Joel took a deep breath.

“I can’t” he whispered, his lips against your forehead.

“Please..” you grabbed onto his shirt wanting to feel him even closer and that’s when he slowly thrusted his hips against you. Your lips parted against his and he thrusted again and again. Your moan made him freeze in place, he wanted more. Joel lifted his body up and looked down noticing the wet stop you left him on his grey sweats, only tempting him to continue.

“I’m sorry” you whispered slightly embarrassed.

He didn’t say a word, you could see him losing the fight and angled his face back to you.

“It’s not like we’re having sex..” you whispered.

“We’re not doing anything wrong” you continued, your thumb brushing over his lips.

He needed to feel more.

With one hand leaning beside your head, he pushed himself up and pushed down his sweats along with his underwear, revealing his aching member.

“What are you doing?”

“I won’t put it in, I just-“ he proceeded to take his cock and brush it up and down between your lips, you lay silently feeling aroused like you had never felt before. Your silk underwear slowly moving aside the more he teased you, his eyes on yours as he focused on the hold he had on you.

“Just don’t-“

“I won’t” he whispered hoarsely. The feel of his cock coming into contact with your pussy, you slowly reached between you both and pulled your underwear aside giving him complete access to feel you.

“Oh, baby…I don’t know if I can stop” he panted as your body squirmed beneath him. You both wanted more, the sound of how wet your pussy was only continued to awaken the animal inside him. His eyes focused on yours when he suddenly slipped himself inside you making you gasp. He held himself feeling you throb around him, your nails digging into his shoulders.

“Joel..” you whispered, his eyes dazed.

“I’m sorry..” he whispered.

“Don’t be…. Again…please” Joel did just as you asked, sliding himself nearly all the way out before ramming himself in you once more.

“Is that what you want? Tell me” he demanded, both of his hands grabbing your face. You nodded desperately before he began moving his hips in a rhythm against you, again and again and again. The bed squeaking loudly the faster he moved.

“Fuck” you moaned as he aggressively pulled his shirt over his head with one hand before sliding his other hand under your ass and lifting you up closer against him. Joel didn’t give a shit if what he was doing in that moment wasn’t wrong and neither did you. You felt better than he could imagine, your tight wet cunt wrapped around him, he moaned deeply. You didn’t want him to stop, you didn’t want it to end when someone suddenly knocked on the door. You and Joel froze out of breath as someone knocked again.

“Housekeeping!”

“No!” Joel blurt out roughly.

“No thank you” he breathed in relief that it was no one else before continuing what he was doing. Next thing you knew, Joel flipped you on top of him, his hands pushing up beneath your shirt grabbing your breasts as you bounced him. Joel could feel your cum dripping down his ballsack.

“Just like that, baby” he panted looking down at his cock.

“Fuck, Joel I’m gonna-“

“You’re gonna cum? Look at me, fucking look at me when you cum” he grabbed a handful of your hair and bought your face down close to his as he pushed his pelvis upwards as fast as he could. You couldn’t take the pleasure he was making you feel, your screams echoing around the room as you came repeatedly.

“Atta girl” he slowed down and flipped you back on your back, your body limp from your orgasm he got on his knees and quickly pulled out. Jerking himself off, his cum shot out of him onto your stomach as he leaned over you.

“Oh shit” he spoke breathlessly looking down at when slowly the intense high came crashing down. He had just fucked his daughter’s Bestfriend.

Joel pushed himself off the bed, slowly stumbling towards the bathroom as your body still tried to recover. He didn’t say a word slamming the bathroom door shut as you slowly pushed yourself up.

“Are you okay?” You called out to him cleaning yourself up, your legs slightly trembling. He didn’t respond.

A few minutes later Joel came rushing out fully dressed and began packing his bag.

“What are you doing?” You asked confused.

“Get dressed, we ain’t stayin’ here”

“Joel, where the hell are we gonna go?”

“Get dressed” he narrowed his eyes on you with a tone you didn’t like.

“Where are we going? Sarah is three hours away and the cabin is still hours away-“

“I ain’t stayin’ here” he walked past you picking up his sweats and throwing it in the bag.

“I don’t understand-“ he abruptly stopped before you and grabbed your face making you gasp.

“I just fucked you in a damn motel. If I don’t leave from here, I will fuck you again and again” his eyes drifted to your lips as you looked at him speechless.

“You’re my daughter’s best friend, I can’t do this” he whispered as he got lost in his temptation and kissed you passionately. He carried you up against the wall brushing his hand up your thigh pushing your shirt above your hips before he moved his lips away. Leaning his forehead on yours he slowly put you back on your feet.

“Get dressed” his tone was cold as he turned away from you.

“You know what-“ you walked towards your bag and pulled out your pants.

“As soon as Sarah and Tommy meet us we can switch, I’ll ride the rest of the way with Tommy” Joel instantly looked up from his bag. Clearly what you said didn’t exactly sit right with him. The thought of you traveling alone with Tommy knowing how his brother was something he was not going to allow. Especially after what had just happened with you.

“So you wanna ride with Tommy now?” He made his way around the bed walking towards you as you pulled up your pants without looking at him.

“Mhm” you responded with clear annoyance.

“You gonna wear your little panties for Tommy too?” Your eyes widened.

“Oh screw you, I didn’t make a move on you”

Joel stood silent, he knew you were right yet his jealousy somehow overpowering his emotions. He felt defeated.

“You’re not ridin’ with Tommy and that’s final” he turned away.

“And what makes you think I have to listen to you?” You quickly followed him until he suddenly turned back to you catching you off guard. He was silent, his jaw tense as you looked up at him slightly intimidated. You could’ve sworn he was going to say something….anything until your phone rang.

Sarah and Tommy got a ride and were now much much closer than you both originally expected them to be and that’s when it hit you, that you were now stuck on a four day trip with your Bestfriend and her dad that you had just slept with..

@moonpascal @katmoonz @picketniffler @stcrrjoon @itsamandi @starry-eyes-love @theoraekenslover @psychoenergy @joeldjarin @bambisweethearts @baronessvonglitter @guelyury @mynameistokyo @harriedandharassed @locaparapedrito @untamedheart81 @rosaliedepp @illyanam1011 @hopefulatrocity @tikikiki @thewritermj @l0veang3l @manuymesut @katiemarieeee @unknownomgg @secretcheesecakenacho @missladym1981 @xmaykeca @dendulinka6 @wintersquirrel @malfoycassimalfoy @scorpio-echo @orcasoul @mysteryhexgirl @locaparapedrito @alloftheimagines @mystickittytaco @justajoelsreader @ashleyfilm

[moonstruckme]

hello mae! I had a request I’d like to give you. I was wondering if you could write a poly!marauders x reader where reader has never slept beside anybody before bc intimacy isn’t something she’s used to therefore she’s not used to being that close to anybody. everytime she shifts she’s afraid to wake up the boys, or she just doesn’t know what to do.

I know you have “first night with marauders” so if this is too similar I totally get it. 🖤

Hello sweetheart, thank you for your request!

poly!marauders x fem!reader ♡ 990 words

You’re terrible at this. 

Each of the boys is sound asleep. Sirius has his leg hooked over yours and one of his arms tossed over James’ chest, Remus’ hand has to be halfway numb underneath your pillow, and James is snoring softly on the far side of the bed from you. They’re all so obviously comfortable, practiced in resting like this, whereas you started to get stiff a half hour ago and you’ve been unable to make yourself relax since. 

Every movement takes a year, you’re trying so hard not to wake them. You feel like the girl in a movie who’s trying to sneak out of the bed of a one-night stand, all taut muscles and bated breath, except you only want to roll over. Slow, microscopic movements have to be the key. 

Your back crackles softly when you shift your weight onto your other hip, and a sigh escapes you before you can stop it. 

A low, croaky hum comes from just in front of your face. Your brain is a tempest of expletives. 

“Hey.” You can nearly feel the gravel of Remus’ voice buzzing against your lips. “You’re up.” 

Muddled with sleep, you can’t tell if his tone is reprimanding or simply observational. “Sorry,” you whisper regardless. 

“Wha’ for?” Movement under the pillow beneath your head, and then a long-fingered hand is nestling beneath your cheek. His scars and calluses slide familiarly over your skin. “Can’t sleep?”

Nope, and now it’s two of you. Guilt grows vines around your ribcage. Remus sounds more awake by the second. 

“I’ll be okay.” You press a soft kiss to the corner of his lips, hoping to mollify him. “Go back to sleep.” 

Your boyfriend makes a half-aware disgruntled sound. “No, not without you.” 

As exhausted as you are, you have to bite down on a smile. When he’s uninhibited like this, Remus really is quite the flirt, all his dorky, sweet thoughts coming out before he can remember to stop them. He’s nearly as bad as James. 

You think he must see a hint of your smile in the dark, because Remus’ own lips tilt upwards. He leans closer to kiss the cool skin of your cheek, the only cold part of you thanks to a heavy duvet and the body heat of three lovely boyfriends. A kiss for a kiss. 

He leaves his lips there as he murmurs, “What’s wrong, dove?” 

Well, funny he should ask. What’s wrong now is the slight tickle of his stubble against your cheek, the hoarse quality to his voice in your ear. His breath warming your cold skin, and the hand he slides across the space between you to rest on your hip, layered in between the sheets and your pajama bottoms. 

But you know that’s not what he’s asking. 

“I can’t get very comfortable,” you confess, speaking so softly he wouldn’t be able to make it out if his ear weren’t two inches from your lips, “and I didn’t want to wake anyone up.” 

Remus hums, as though this is a prognosis he’d already reached and was merely waiting for you to confirm. You can hear Sirius’ voice as clearly as if he were awake: know it all. 

“They can sleep through anything,” he says. “One time the fire alarm went off, and James didn’t even stir. Don’t worry about them.” You must be emanating guilt, because he strokes his thumb over your hip pacifyingly. “And I don’t mind being woken up. I’m in and out of sleep all night anyway, it’s not hard for me to get back. You’re not used to sleeping with so many people, yeah?” 

Your face warms at his phrasing, though of course you know what he means. “Or with anyone,” you murmur. 

“Mm. I think I know what you need.” 

You don’t realize Remus’ plan until he’s already sat up. He reaches over you, rubbing James’ shoulder gently while you protest vehemently through whispers. 

James wakes with a yawn, taking Remus’ hand automatically and bringing it close to his face. “Wha’s’it?”

“Take her,” Remus requests drowsily. With his other hand, he nudges you forward. 

James starts to blink his eyes open, and you see no way out. You start climbing over Sirius as delicately as you can. “Sorry,” you whisper, to him, to them, to the room in general. 

Remus helps you out by tugging Sirius into your place. The other boy whines but settles quickly, rolling over to sling his leg over Remus’ instead. 

James welcomes you as heartily as his sleep-addled state will allow, adjusting the covers over you and smudging a few toothpaste-scented kisses onto your face. 

“Y’can’t sleep?” he asks. 

You shake your head. “Sorry.” 

He makes a soft dismissive sound. “C’mere, angel.” 

You refrain from telling him that you’re already here as his arms find their way around you, soft and firm in all the right places and deliciously warm. He starts to make slow, sweeping circles onto your back with his hand. 

“Jamie,” you murmur, grateful but embarrassed, “don’t stay up for me. Go to sleep.” 

“M’basically there,” he replies. “You first, yeah?” 

You can hear Remus’ breathing evening out behind you, syncing with Sirius’, and you’re suddenly sure that this is part of a routine he and the boys shared before you ever met them. That’s how he knew to hand you off to James, and how James knew exactly what to do. Something about that comforts you. And far be it for you to mess with tradition. 

You shuffle closer to James under the covers. He obliges you happily, adjusting his grip so he’s holding you more securely, with your leg resting against his and your forehead an inch from his nose. The shushing of his heavy palm on the material of your pajama top is the only sound in the world. 

You hear his breathing starting to deepen again, but James is right; you beat him there. 

[starsenha]

YAPPER / S.J

Pairing ◊ fem!reader x bf!jake

Genre ◊ fluff, established relationship

Warnings ◊ mention of low social battery, jake overthinks a lot in this, introverted!reader x extroverted!jake

Word count ◊ 1k

Summary ◊ you and jake just started living together, and he had to get used to having an introvertes s/o.

a/n: this is so cute i'll die

The apartment was quiet, a comfortable contrast to the usual hum of Jake’s chatter. You’d been living together for just a few weeks now, but it already felt like home. Jake's energy filled the space—warm, playful, constant—much like a puppy that couldn’t contain its excitement. His endless chatter was something you loved about him, the way he could talk for hours about anything, whether it was the latest indie band he discovered or his theories about the origins of the universe.

But today was different.

You sat at the kitchen table, your laptop in front of you, but your fingers hovered over the keys, unmoving. The day had drained you. You had been running on empty, your social battery flickering like a dying candle. It wasn’t anything that happened in particular. Just… people. The noise. The constant interactions. You craved silence in a way that felt almost physical, like you needed to wrap yourself in it to recharge.

Jake must have noticed.

He hadn’t been his usual self all day. His usual stream of conversation had trickled down to cautious comments, half-started stories that faded into silence when you didn’t respond the way you normally would. He gave you space, which was rare for him, but something you appreciated. You knew how much it took for him to quiet himself.

But as the hours passed, the air in the apartment grew heavier. You could feel it between you, like something unsaid, something tense. And you knew what it was. Jake was overthinking. You’d seen it before—he could mask it for a while, but eventually, it showed. The nervous fidgeting, the glances he thought you didn’t notice, the way he tapped his foot against the leg of the couch, an unconscious habit when he was deep in his thoughts.

You sighed, staring at your screen, knowing you should say something, anything, but the words felt stuck. You just needed a little more quiet. A little more time to recharge. But the silence was dragging on, and you knew Jake wouldn’t be able to take it much longer.

Eventually, as the sky outside began to darken and the city lights flickered on, you heard soft footsteps behind you. His approach was hesitant, unlike his usual bounding energy, and it made your chest tighten with guilt. You didn’t turn around, not right away, but you felt him hovering behind you.

“Hey, babe,” he said softly. His voice was gentle, tentative, as if he was afraid to disturb whatever fragile peace you had wrapped around yourself. “Can I, uh… Can I talk to you for a sec?”

You turned in your chair to look at him, and there he was—Jake, with his tousled brown hair that always seemed to be a little wild no matter how many times he ran his fingers through it, and those big, expressive eyes that were always so full of life. Except now, they looked… sad. His brows were knit together in concern, and there was this slight tremble in his bottom lip, like he was trying to keep it together.

“What’s up?” you asked, your voice coming out quieter than you intended.

“I just… I don’t know. Did I… did I do something wrong?” His voice wavered, and your heart clenched. “Like, I don’t know, you’ve been really quiet today, and I was thinking maybe I… I upset you somehow?” He took a step closer, his hand reaching out, hovering over your shoulder like he wasn’t sure if he should touch you. “If I did, I’m really sorry.”

You blinked, caught off guard. He was standing there with that look on his face—the one he always gave you when he thought he messed up, the one that made him look like a kicked puppy. His eyes were wide, his expression so heartbreakingly sincere.

“Jake,” you started, but he interrupted.

“No, seriously, if I said something or if I did something without thinking, I didn’t mean to. I’ve been trying to figure it out all day, but I can’t—” His voice cracked a little, and he looked away, biting his lip. “I just hate it when you’re upset, and I don’t know what I did.”

Your heart broke a little right then. He was always so in tune with your emotions, so careful with them. You reached out, gently grabbing his hand and pulling him closer. “Jake, you didn’t do anything wrong. I promise.”

He looked at you, his brows still furrowed, not entirely convinced. “Then… why? I mean, you’ve barely said anything all day. You’ve been… distant.”

You sighed, squeezing his hand. “It’s not you. It’s just… I’m drained. My social battery is completely dead, and I didn’t know how to say that without making you feel like I was upset or something. But it’s not you, okay? I just… needed some quiet.”

He blinked a few times, his expression softening, but there was still that little crease between his eyebrows. “Oh. Oh.” His shoulders relaxed a bit, and he looked down at your hands intertwined. “You could’ve told me that.”

“I know. I should have,” you said, guilt creeping in. “I didn’t mean to make you feel bad.”

He shook his head, finally smiling a little. “No, it’s okay. I just… you know how I get.” He laughed softly, though it was a little self-deprecating. “I overthink everything. I just didn’t want to make things worse by being my usual… talky self.”

You chuckled, giving his hand a squeeze. “I love your talky self. I really do. I just… today was a lot, you know?”

“I get it,” he said softly, his thumb brushing over your knuckles. “Next time, just… tell me. You don’t have to worry about me. If you need space, I can give you space. I’ll just… go babble to the plants or something.”

That made you laugh, and the tension in the room seemed to dissolve. “Babble to the plants, huh?”

“Yeah,” he grinned, a little more of his usual energy returning. “They don’t seem to mind. Plus, they grow better when I talk to them, so win-win.”

You smiled, feeling lighter than you had all day. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

Jake leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. “Just promise me you’ll tell me next time, okay? I’d rather know you’re just tired than sit around thinking I did something terrible.”

“I promise,” you whispered, leaning into his touch.

He smiled, pulling you into a warm embrace, and in that moment, you were reminded of why you loved him so much—his warmth, his patience, his understanding. Even when you were at your most exhausted, he knew how to bring you back.

"Good," he said softly, holding you close. "I love you, you know that?"

"I know," you murmured, resting your head against his chest. "I love you too."

And just like that, everything felt right again.

[thesacrificialdove]

𝐍𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓𝐋𝐘 𝐒𝐔𝐑𝐏𝐑𝐈𝐒𝐄𝐒 1.6k words rich yandere x gn!reader — ko-fi | patreon | masterlist | inbox | taglist | home | req. & comms

tags sugar daddy, rich yandere, low-key obsessive behaviour, first meetings, college student reader, age gap, brief mention of a rapist (no description or anything more)

—📜" Being a broke college student, you decide to try your hand at getting a sugar daddy. You find someone who is... quite eager to know everything about you. It's weird because he doesn't seem to be the same person he was online.

They say to spend your youth on nightclubs and partying with friends. But really, they don’t know the true beauty of being in a jazz club and drinking all by yourself. There’s no ill intentions, there’s no partying until the sun goes down—just some nice music and good drinks.

People find it odd, sure. But nothing can beat this feeling for you. As you lay in a couch that’s worth double your college tuition, you drink champagne that's triple your college tuition. 

How you ended up here is another embarrassing story. Hunting for a sugar daddy online is a clear plan for destruction. It could end well with a decent allowance every now and then, of course. Yet, fear gets the most of you. The thought that you end up with a fat well and alive man who asks for sex with his small dick looms over you like a gloomy cloud. That fear is there because your sugar daddy is anonymous.

Sighing, you drink another sip of the champagne as you fix your posture. Again. The seat in front of you is still empty. You’d think he wasn’t really being honest with you but he did have a reservation ready for the both of you.

It’s not bad to wait. Even if you do look dumb getting stood up, at least you’re enjoying yourself.

“You lonely there?” someone asks behind you.

Turning your head behind you, you see a towering man with a smile so bright you think you could be blinded by it. He looks elegant—the way he’s holding a glass like a connoisseur and his long black hair pulled into a slick ponytail. Fuck, is he your sugar daddy? He looks the age for it and honestly, he aged really good.

You tell him, “Maybe. Are you lonely?”

He chuckles and takes the seat opposite. Finally. “No,” he says, “not anymore, at least. All thanks to…?” he gestures to you.

When you tell him his name, he parrots it like he’s tasting it. “Beautiful. Your mother picked it out?”

“I’m sure so,” you don’t know, who the hell would know that? “It’s a generational name, really. In our family we keep reusing names.”

“So are you the second? The third?”

The third was your great grandfather but he ended up being a rapist. Eugh. “The fourth,” you answer. “But I never tell anyone that, actually. Bit embarrassing if they call me the fourth, so.”

He laughs, somehow finding you amusing. “Nicolas,” he says, “very nice to meet you.”

Was… his name Nicolas? You’re not so sure about that. From the site he only revealed his last name so that you could get the reservation. Huh.

“Nice to meet you, Nicolas.” The little twitch in his lips is unavoidable to your eyes, “You look very nice tonight,” maybe that’s why he took almost an hour to arrive here. “Do you live near here or?”

“Oh, no,” he shakes his head, “I come from Bolzano. But I came here from Portofino, where my heart currently is.”

You nod like you know where those places really are. Italy, you assume. “Very nice. I heard it’s a beautiful place.”

“Beatiful even more with company,” he puts his drink down. “How about you? What makes you come here?”

You, actually. You wanted to go here. “I was raised by my grandfather and jazz was his favourite. Every corner of the house Hank Mobley would be playing. I have his old records that he passed down to me and whenever I play it, I can see the way he dances.”

“So, come down here for a little trip to memory lane?”

Before you could answer, you think about it even more. The man you were talking was definitely not Italian, right? No, his name sounded British, at most. And Nicolas sounds like he has little to no knowledge about the fact that you two are supposedly on a date.

Fuck, did you get him wrong? I mean, he is interested, you think.

“Yeah, it’s nice,” you hum. You put your glass down too, clasping your hands. “I think I do need to go now. It was nice to have your company—”

“Going so soon? A bit rude especially if you came here to be mine for a price, no?”

You pause. Though you’re ready to leave this embarrassing meeting, you’re caught. You turn to him in confusion. So you were… wrong? Right? 

“Sit back down, this champagne is a bit too new to me.” He raises a hand and someone immediately finds their footing beside him. Nicolas speaks in his own tongue, requesting something you don’t understand.

You’re promptly back on your seat with a small wave of his hand. “Come on, I think we have a lot to learn about each other. But I know you.”

Did he send in a private investigator or what? Fuck, man. You didn’t think that those things were real in real life. “How much do you know?”

He doesn’t answer. His legs are crossed as he watches the busboy leave to prepare your drinks. “How are your classes?” he asks, making idle conversation of things you’re a bit worried to talk to him about. “Hope you’re dealing well.”

“Yeah,” you say, unsure of this now. “It’s all fine, yes. Just a few projects and classes.” You wonder for a moment how rude it would be to ask for a price on your body right now. “Nothing interesting, really.”

“I’m sure anything you say is of interest,” he says, all too fond of you. “Tell me, love, you mentioned having difficulties with some of your professors.”

He wasn’t interested in all that before when you were talking. “It’s fine. Well, not like I can say no. It’s a bit hard when you’re paying for an education and you’re not being taught,” you laugh, “Self-taught learning, he excuses.”

“That’s simply lazy,” he excuses. “Fine arts is such a nice career path. No reason to be dismissive of students who want to learn it.”

Did you tell him what you’re studying?

The busboy returns and brings a drink to the both of you. The song changes and it sounds familiar. You could almost see your grandfather dance behind Nicolas.

“I’m going to guess that’s your doing,” you say, “Thank you. It sounds lovely.”

He smiles, “I’m not one for jazz myself.” He reaches for his glass and swirls in, taking a whiff of its scent afterward. “But I’m curious as to who you are. How you grew up is one of those things”

When the both of you talked online, you expected him to be more lustful than this. Maybe it’s the repeating innuendo in his messages. All of that persona is gone now as if it never existed. It’s concerning.

Both of you make small conversation. Mostly it’s about you. He asks every little detail about you, asking for things that not even your friends would care about. It’s the little things.

‘Do you like soft cotton or silk?’ You don’t really know the difference but cotton is nice.

‘How often do you see your family?’ Every or so month, you’d wager. But you make sure to keep in contact.

‘What’s your thoughts on caged animals?’ A bit cruel, but you can see where it can stem from. Still, it’s cruel. You’d never do it.

The night come to a close when you start to feel a bit light-headed with the drinks you’ve ingested. Nicolas puts aside your glass as he stands to go on your side of the table. “Maybe it’s time to take a break tonight, love?”

You groan. “Yeah, I guess that’s fine now. I’m really thankful for tonight.”

“I’m glad,” he says, pulling you up and helping you walk. You don’t need it but it’s nice anyways. “I can take you back to your dorm, yes? You don’t need to worry about anything else when you’re with me.”

In your pocket, your phone buzzes. You don’t get to check it when Nicolas wraps both of his arms around your waist. He pulls you to the exit and you swear you hear ‘Signore Giordano’ come out when the men bid him goodnight.

Which is weird, because his surname is Abbot.

The ride was a blur, literally. Maybe you’ve had too much to drink. The next thing you know is that both of you are in front of your dorm. It’s too dark outside. The streets are dead silent. The low rumble of his car is the only thing you can really hear.

He calls your name. “It’s time to go home. You can’t stay with me yet, love.”

You stretch in the seat. A car seat has never been more comfortable. “Been nice, really. Thank you.”

As you unbuckle your seat, he leans forward. His arm drapes over your shoulders as his hand comes to your face. “Then can I get a little reward? Just a little?” He turns his cheek, a grin on his face.

It’s stupid but oh well, he would pay you. You press a kiss on his cheek and he looks like the happiest man alive. He laughs, looking at you with stupid heart eyes. “Thank you. Call me with this number—” he places a card in your hands—”and delete that damn app. I’ll come find you after your classes tomorrow for your contract. You don’t need to find anyone else now.”

He leaves shortly after you get inside your dorm. You hear the revving of his car go in the quiet night. It’s relieving. You’re tired on your feet, unable to really process what happened tonight.

It’s whatever. It’s all done now.

You delete the app on your phone, swiping away a message you got from it. You’re pretty sure it’s from another match you had last time but again, you don’t need it anymore.

do not redistrubute this work as yours/without permission or feed to AI 📷 art by @ L0tus_Ren_ & @ Ivan Belikov

[aurorasgate]

mutual masturbation with caleb

caleb x fem!reader this is pure filth y'all and the first time i'm writing for this man who can't seem to get out of my brain🫠🩷

warnings: 18+ MINORS DNI! masturbation obvi, post when he comes back, a tiny bit of voyeurisms but its not on purpose, praise kink, cute teasing and pet names, he'd kiss you if he weren't a little romantic for you but that doesn't stop him from cumming on you <3 its true love okay, i don't think anything else but please let me know if i missed something!

the key to your place sits in his palm, warm from his skin, guiding him like it’s tied to a tether thats other end could only possibly be with you. the person he wants to be with the most in the world. it’s small and light, especially in a hand as large as his, but it holds the weight of so much more.

hope. a promise and want all consuming and built over years together and what feels like even longer apart.

caleb knows you just got home, the pinging notification of your late arrival after work came on his phone the same minute he stepped off the train from skyhaven to linkon. he had decided to not let you know he’s coming by but didn’t waste a single moment hurrying to the store for ingredients to cook you something delicious and make his way to your apartment so he’s not late.

there’s something blooming in his chest as he slides the key into the lock without knocking, warm and familiar despite the thought that you might not be happy to see him sitting unwelcomingly at the bottom of his stomach and this being the first time he’s ever used the key you gave him.

you’ve been reaching out more, sounding happier because of him, asking when you’ll be together next, and he doesn’t want this distance between you any longer. he wants to see you, every breathing moment he wants you right next to him, and is looking forward to your surprised and smiling face upon his arrival.

your apartment is quieter, darker, than he expected when he opens the door and closes it with a soft click behind him. he knows you’re home and yet, the only thing to greet him is the blue lights of your kitchen appliances displaying the late hour. with quiet movements, he sets down the paper bag full of ingredients on the kitchen counter, leaves his keys next to it, and takes in your space; the items around him sitting in shadow that are all reminders of you, the sweet scent of you lingering in the air, the doors down the small hallway without light shining through them, except for your bedroom.

a low light filters through the bottom and slight crack in the not quite closed door, like only your nightstand lamp is on, and if he listens carefully, he can hear the muffled and small rustling sounds of movements. he doesn’t call out to you or say a word as he makes his way towards your bedroom. perhaps it’s out of habit, an old childhood one where he’d enjoy keeping quiet, hidden, until you were within arms reach and surprising you, giving you a bit of a jumpscare, so he could see your face contort with a cute pout once you realized it was him. or maybe it’s for other reasons, ones hard to put a name to when he hadn’t really let himself before but that are anything but foreign to him.

before he can decide what he’ll do, finally say something so you know he’s here or knock on the frame or just swing it open and ask accusingly, teasingly, what you’re doing, all of his movements and brain function come to a complete halt an inch away from the threshold of your bedroom when he hears you. 

lewd squelching sounds, rhythmic and fast, chasing after something, fills his ears and is accompanied rather than drowned out by the way you call his name in a way he’d only ever heard in his most sinful of dreams. 

“c - caleb~”

no - this couldn’t compare. it was so much better than he had been able to imagine and almost too good to be true. and when it comes again, more desperate, full of heat and wanting need, he’s reaching for the door before he can decide whether he actually should or not.

you don’t hear the opening of your door with your pleasure and thoughts of caleb getting the better of you. all you can focus on is the way your fingers don’t quite reach deep enough and the image of calebs hands, so much bigger, stronger, than your own, being able to touch and pleasure the depths of your warmth and find the perfect spot inside you over and over again. you don’t doubt he’d be wonderful at it.

it’s not the first time you’ve thought of him like this and it certainly won’t be the last. especially now that you swear he’s within arms reach in a way you thought you’d never have the chance to try for after.. well, you don’t want to think about that now. and you don’t. can’t possibly when you finally open your eyes and, through your hazy, lust filled vision, see him standing at the entrance of your bedroom.

your brain takes several moments to catch up, not quite sure if you were actually seeing him or just a mirage that you had conjured up more times than you’d like to count but when your eyes meet the lavender fields of his own, see them darkening into something more akin to most stunning of amethyst, and he says your name in a tone you had never heard from before, you know he’s there for real. having witnessed you touching yourself and no doubt having heard you calling out for him as you did.

there’s no notice of your displeasure at the loss of fullness between your legs when mortification is a living thing inside of you, washing over every nerve and inch of skin and has you sputtering out incoherent words as your hands tug at the shirt you had lifted just above your breasts and your legs shut with a clap of your thighs and the stickiness that had built up trying to get yourself off. “oh my fucking - caleb - i - when did - i’m - you - i just -” 

the step he takes closer to you, drawing your eyes from his handsome darkened features to the impressive bulge straining in his jeans, stops your words. you aren’t quite sure if your silence is better or worse than your string of explanations, questions, excuses, you couldn’t even form fully but he doesn’t seem to mind.

“you don’t have to stop on my account,” he finally says, his tone heady and teasing all at once. he thinks you look astonishingly stunning like this, the heat of your cheeks radiating through the entire room, your lips parted but no words coming out, your legs shyly pressed together and your peaked nipples showing through the thin fabric of your shirt that hardly covers you up. he keeps a painful distance between you despite it all and how badly he wants to touch you right now. he can’t overstep. can’t do anything that might make the progress you had made together thus far since reuniting come crumbling down at his feet. “i can leave if you-”

“no!” you’re quick to reply, your voice far more desperate than you would have preferred and you half expect caleb to comment on it but he only stares at you, like he might never let you leave this room, the tension between you building and building until you think you can’t take it anymore and force yourself to continue, to say what lays in your heart. “don’t go.. unless you want to. i - i’m sorry..”

he chuckles, soft and with no judgment. “you don’t have anything to be sorry for.” he’s more than honored to be the one you think of when touching yourself, would have loathed for it to be anyone but him. caleb starts to close the distance between you, slow and giving you the chance to change your mind but he hopes, prays, you don’t. for so long he’s dreamed of you like this. at the edge of your bed, he stands and watches his fingers running along the cotton of your sheets before they’re on the arch of your foot, traveling up to your ankle in a chaste movement that’s comforting and electrifying. “i don’t want to go.”

you feel far too shy, still so full of embarrassment and mortification he found you like this, to speak the words out loud that you want him, for him to touch you, be with you in a way you never had before, and are beyond thankful and breathless when he takes the lead and says the words himself.

calebs eyes meet yours, making it feel like your heart may leap right out of your chest with all the emotions behind his gaze that you could get lost in and the way his breaths fall heavy and hot in the space around. “let me help you.”

it’s not a question but you nod in acknowledgement anyway and try to swallow your shame. you never need to feel that way with him; not back then and not now. spreading your legs slowly, your arms cradled to your chest, his touch remains on your ankle but his eyes drop to watch your movements and your own are just as shameless, taking in the hardness of his cock and the way it seems to twitch in his jeans at the sight of you. 

“have you ever touched someone like this caleb?” you don’t know why you ask. time and time again he’s told you he wouldn’t get a girlfriend, hasn’t had a girlfriend, and if the answer was yes - you could already feel the lick of jealousy traveling up your spine. 

his hand not on your leg reaches for your face, gentle and firm in the way he forces you to look at him with his grip on your chin. “what do you think?” he looks and sounds unbelievably serious, like he’s hurt you’d even ask and truthfully, he is. there has never been anyone but you and there never will be anyone but you in his eyes. cradled in his arms. in his bed. on his cock.

worrying your bottom lip between your teeth, he keeps his hold on your chin but you need to look anywhere but the violet eyes staring back at you. it’s too much and not enough. not nearly what you need but enough to swallow you whole. instead of replying, you spread your legs farther, focusing on his fingers still lingering on your ankle and how badly you want them to touch other places of you. “caleb..” is all you can bring yourself to reply but it’s answer enough for him.

his hands leave you in order to make quick work of his shoes before he’s crawling his way between your legs, fully clothed, completely hard, and having to remind himself to breathe rather than take you in every possible way he could right here and now. though he can’t say it’s helping when every lung full of air is laced with your scent and your arousal. but he hasn’t even ever kissed you before and regardless of how badly- so fucking badly - he wants you, you deserve something so much more than sharing your first kiss together like this. he simply won’t have it.

with your thighs resting on his, helping keep you spread open, he sits on his knees to reach your face and kiss your forehead, tender and lingering and full of love. your face is so warm under his lips and against your burning skin, he whispers with a smile, “go on pretty girl. i said i’d help.”

as he pulls his lips away, your hand still stained with your essence finds its way back between your legs. how much you’re truly enjoying having caleb here is evident in the wetness you find there, so much more than before when it had only been you and your imagination to get you through it. you gather your slick on the tips of your fingers with a swipe along your folds, starting from your little hole and moving up to your clit that you graze softly with your nail and let out a small sound in response. 

caleb doesn’t touch you, not yet, and instead watches through heavy lidded eyes at the way your fingers sink into your cunt, slow and tentative, the way you take them in and the jolt of pleasure that resounds through the rest of you at the pleasure of it; how your chest lifts slightly off the bed as you try to take in breaths through it, your legs trembling against his own in time with the wet sounds of your fingers going in and out and your other hand that reaches for him in a silent plea.  

but it’s for more than him to finally touch you and you know you’ll have to say it aloud for him to do it but he did say he’d help you and this would absolutely do the trick.  “will you.. will you touch yourself too?”

“yeah? you’d like that pipsqueak?”

“don’t call me that when we’re like this,” you chide, not nearly as serious as you wish you were but it’s just not something you can muster right now. not when you can’t even look up at him. a fact he knows all too well by the way he chuckles low in response. “please caleb.. want to see you feel good too.”

“seeing you like this makes me feel good,” he replies, dreamy and far away but it’s followed by the sound of his belt being undone and the zipper of his jeans. you can’t help but stare at his movements, watching as he pulls himself free of his boxers just enough to grasp the base of his cock and good god he’s big. you had assumed considering all of him is, that this would be no exception but seeing his cock and the way it looks in his hold is something else entirely. “do you always think about me when you’re touching yourself sweetheart?”

“always..” you admit, trying to match the rhythm of your fingers to the pace he begins to set for himself, and it’s absolutely the truth. even when you thought it might be wrong to think of him like this, you couldn’t help yourself or the way your brain and pussy always ran towards thoughts of him and him alone. “do you? think about me when you touch yourself, i mean..”

finally, after what feels like so long, he touches you, using his hand that can feel you without pain to press his thumb against the swollen bundle of nerves that’s your clit. you’re so unbelievably soft, he thinks, so perfect. how could ever think of anyone else? “every. single. time.” he punctuates each word with more and more pressure in the little swirls and attention he gives your clit, all the while gripping himself tighter.

the warmth of his hand joins yours as you both explore and touch between your legs. it’s hard to believe he’s never done this before when every single touch he gives you is so far beyond what you had ever been able to give yourself and you only think it’s more true when his long fingers glide down the back of your hand and one of them joins two of yours that fills your dripping cunt. he slides it in slow, as if taking in every millisecond of it for himself just as much as it for you, and lets his palm press against the back of your hand so every move you make it as one.

“ah! caleb!” you cry out at the welcomed stretch, so blissed out and hungry for more. your free hand grabs a hold of his arm that works himself in slow pumps, up and down the length of his cock, collecting the pearly beads of precum leaking from his slit.  you’re surprised to find it warm despite what you know lies beneath but you don’t let it stop you from your fingers digging into his skin, enough to hurt, make sure he feels it, feels you.

he groans at how tightly you hold onto him and the way you greedily accept his finger with your own, every sweet and full in and out mention of them making you more full than you’d ever been but somehow you don’t think it’s enough as his cock would be.  it takes no time at all for him to find and follow where you curl them into the perfect spot inside of you, making you see stars of purples and white. 

“you’re such a good girl..” he praises with the same low tone, completely intoxicated with your noises and the sounds that join them in a sweet and filthy melody of your dripping pussy and his aching cock. “you can take another, can’t you?”

nodding, you attempt to add an emphasis to how badly you want more by unlatching your hand from his arm and running your fingers along the head of his dick. it’s hard to steady your movements with the way your body sways with each thrust of fingers in and out of you, the pace caleb helps you set that rocks your body almost soothingly, but the feeling of you in anyway, no matter how, is enough to drive caleb wild. he doesn’t waste a moment sliding another one of his long and lithe fingers into you, taking full control of yours, pressing them against your velvety walls and setting a punishing pace that you will not be able to keep for long. 

“caleb - wait -”

“keep your legs spread,” he tells you when you attempt to voice how quickly your orgasm is coming to you and bring your legs together to help calm yourself down but like the good girl he knows you are, his good girl, they shakily open back up at his words.

“won’t last like this..” you try to tell him but you don’t know if the words actually leave your lips when the pressure below your belly won’t stop building at an alarming rate and is spurred on by how he looks between your legs. his eyes are hidden underneath the ends of soft locks but you know he’s looking at you, watching the way his fingers get lost in the soft silk of your pussy, and you’re utterly captivated by the way his arms flex underneath his shirt as he gets you both where you want to be and his hand wrapped around his cock, growing more and more erratic in its movements. it has you aching to have him inside of you. 

it’s not something you’ll get the change to voice, however. not when he looks into your eyes, presses his fingers knuckles deep and then deeper, forcing your own to go with his, and the words he speaks are more of a command than a request, with a lilt of the voice you heard him use when being the commander of the fleet, leaving no room or choice but for your body to obey. “cum for me beautiful.”

you do. breaking around his fingers like you never have on your own before. it’s overwhelming, enough to have tears pricking at the corners of your eyes, a pleasuring cry you had never made before slipping uncontrollably out of your lips in the form of his name, and your walls clenching and pulsing so hard around both of your fingers. through every rack of pleasure coursing through your body, caleb only adds to it, already knowing the perfect spot to keep hitting inside of you in order to let you ride out every last moment of your high and when you think maybe it’s over, it only gets prolonged when you hear the deep moan of your name caleb lets out above you and feel the warmth of his release on your vulva, how it coats you in his plentiful cum and drips from your cunt onto the sheets below you before he’s even finished.

you aren’t sure how long you stay like that, both of you fighting for breath and letting the last bits of your orgasms wash over you, but after some time when all that's left is the mess between your legs and the truth of what you’ve just done together still a warming hum in your limbs, caleb is careful, thoughtful, as he helps to guide your fingers out of your entrance, soothing you with a soft hum when the overstimulation of it makes you shutter. 

“feelin’ better?” he asks, the aftershock of pleasure still clinging to his vocal cords.

“mhm - much.” your own voice is not any better but you don’t care or worry. not when it feels so good, so right, to have him here with you, seeing you like this. despite your past embarrassment about it only minutes ago, which can’t hold a candle to this between you, it brings you back to how you ended up here in the first place. you’re certain he wasn’t here before and that you didn’t have plans, not that it’s a complaint though. “no offense caleb but what are you doing here?”

you see him smirk as he gets off of your bed, tucking his dick back into his pants with ease before looking at you as if you hung the moon and stars yourself, just for him. “making you dinner, of course.” he says it so matter of factly, like he wasn’t just knuckles deep inside you, as he leans over the edge of the bed to scoop you into his embrace, one strong arm at your back and one under your legs, uncaring of the mess dripping from your pussy. “after we get you cleaned up that is.”

[lubdubology]

Soft Edges

SYNOPSIS: Logan doesn't know how to relax. So you help him.

PAIRING: Worst!Wolverine x fem!reader (Although minus the quick blip mention about the Void, you could imagine any Logan you'd like)

WC: 2K

WARNINGS: sexually suggestive innuendos; non-explicit descriptions of nakedness; playful banter; kissing; mild swearing; feeeeeelings; honestly, just tooth rotting fluff

A/N: I haven't written anything four hundred and eighty years seven years and I'm honestly kind of nervous about this. I thought my writing muse was long dead and buried. But here it is, seemingly revived. The idea for this story kind of just fell out of my head when I should have been napping while my toddler napped. The story won out. I hope you like it! <3

You wake with a jolt to the sound of Logan’s alarm blaring from his phone. From beside you comes Logan’s low, “Ah, fuck,” before silence reclaims the room. 

It’s early, the first rays of morning light just barely peeking above the horizon. You roll over and peer over your pillow to find Logan pulling on a pair of jeans. 

“I thought you were off today,” you mumble sleepily, laying your head back down and admiring the way his muscles move as he slips a shirt over his shoulders. 

He looks back at you with a soft smile. “Didn’t mean to wake you,” he says, continuing to dress. “Picked up an extra shift at the yard.”

Since returning from the Void, Logan had picked up a smattering of odd jobs to earn money. A couple of months working at a quarry. A per diem for a local contracting company. Currently a lumber yard thirty minutes outside of town. Despite notoriety for helping save the entirety of existence, some employers still had qualms about hiring someone from another universe. Not that he cared. You think he was just happy being useful. 

You reach for him and pull him down for a kiss. You can feel the curve of his smile against your lips and it’s these soft moments about him you love the most. “Do you even know how to relax?” you ask, snuggling back down against the rumpled sheets. 

“I relax,” he replies, standing up to grab his boots at the end of the bed. 

You can’t help the snort that escapes from you. “Name one thing you to do relax,” you counter, watching through half lidded eyes as he sits back down on the bed to lace up his boots. 

Logan pretends to think about it and then smirks. “You.”

He chuckles as you whip his pillow at him, your aim off as it sails harmlessly past his head and onto the floor. You hide your smile as he looks down at you, his eyes warm but still tired. “Relaxing really ain’t my style, sweetheart.” 

“You deserve it though,” you say, stifling a yawn. 

Logan looks down at you for a moment, his smirk fading as something softer settles in his expression, but he doesn’t respond to your statement. He stands and shrugs on his jacket, straightening out the collar before leaning down to press a kiss to your forehead. 

“Go back to sleep,” he murmurs.

You watch him leave and as you settle down to steal a couple more hours of sleep, you hatch a plan to show him just how nice relaxing can be. 

+++

You hum to yourself as you cook, the aroma of roasted potatoes and chicken filling the apartment. You’re just about to start on the green beans when you hear the jingle of Logan’s keys in the lock and the door swings open with a heavy creak. 

“In here, babe!” you call from the kitchen. 

“I could smell this all the way downstairs,” he comments, tossing his keys on the counter. “What’s this for?”

Logan wraps his arms around your waist and pulls you tight against his frame, nuzzling his nose where your neck and shoulder meet. With a smile, you reach back and lightly scratch your nails through the scruff along his jaw. He smells like sawdust and smoke as you press a light kiss to his cheek. 

You savor these moments with him. When you’d first met him, he was distant and wary, years of trauma causing him to be guarded. He warmed up slowly, his touches lingering longer and his words spilling more freely. But now, moments like this—where he’s soft and affectionate—have become more frequent. Logan craves touch and you are more than willing to reciprocate. 

“I thought you could use a nice dinner,” you say, your hand still tracing the line of his jaw. “Long day?”

Logan lets out a low grunt in response, his forehead resting against your shoulder. “One of those days where every idiot with a hammer thinks he can DIY,” he mutters, his breath warm against your skin. 

You smile and give his head an affectionate pat. “Well, you’re home now and I’ve got everything handled here. Dinner will be ready in just a few minutes.”

He pulls back just enough to look down at you, his eyebrows furrowing slightly. “Sure you don’t need help?”

“You try and help me, and I’ll beat you with this spoon,” you tease. 

Logan laughs and raises his eyebrow. “Promise?”

You smirk, giving him a playful nudge to the ribs with your elbow. “Don’t threaten me with a good time, Logan.”

Logan’s eyes crinkle at the corners, the kind of smile that softens all his sharp edges. He gives your waist a gentle squeeze before stepping back, his fingers lingering just a beat longer. “Alright, alright,” he says holding up his hands in mock surrender. “I’ll just go wash up.” 

As Logan retreats to the bathroom, you hear the rustle of him changing out of his work clothes and the thud of his boots as he tosses them to the floor. You finish dinner, resuming your quiet humming as you set the table. You finish plating everything when Logan emerges, work clothes changed for a fresh t-shirt and jeans. 

“Come eat, Lo.”

He joins you at the table and gives you an appreciative look as he sits down. “This smells incredible.”

You sit across from, watching as he takes the first bite, a prickle of anxiety setting along your spine as you wait for his reaction. A low groan of pleasure rumbles in his throat. “Fuck, this is good.”

A grin spreads across your face as he takes several more bites like a man starved. “I experimented with the cast iron skillet,” you comment as you watch him. “Looks like it was a solid impulse purchase.”

The two of you settle into a comfortable rhythm, enjoying the meal and sharing small pieces of conversation. Logan helps himself to seconds and as he finishes, he wipes his mouth with a napkin and sets his gaze on you. “You didn’t have to do this, you know,” he says, his voice low and warm. 

“I wanted to,” you reply simply. “And, like I told you this morning, you deserve it. Let me help you relax, Logan.”

There’s a pause, his expression softening as your words settle over him. You know he’s not one to ask for much and you can tell his savoring this moment. “You’re somethin’ else, you know that?” His voice is gruff but there’s a tenderness there that makes your chest ache. 

“A good something?”

He smiles. “The best somethin’.”

You finish dinner, swatting him away when he offers to help clean up and banishing him to the living room. Dishwasher loaded and leftovers put away, you join him on the couch. “Care to indulge me once more?”

He quirks his eyebrow. “What did you have in mind?”

+++

Logan stares at you dubiously as you lead him to the bathroom and gesture towards the tub. You flash him a grin as a frown tugs at the corner of his mouth. “It’s just a bath, Logan.”

He eyes the tub as if he’s waiting for it to swallow him whole. He crosses his arms across his chest. “I don’t do baths,” he mutters. 

You roll your eyes and place your hand on his chest, gently pushing him further into the bathroom. “Yeah, and you don’t relax either. Just humor me.”

Logan gives you a look—half amused, half reluctant—as he allows you to continue to nudge him closer. He reaches up and scratches at the back of his neck and blows out a sigh. “Fine,” he grumbles, “but only if you join me.”

You laugh softly, leaning up to press a kiss to his chin. “Tough bargain, but I accept.”

You turn from him and run the faucet, letting the tap run until you find the temperature sweet spot. Satisfied, you toss in some bath salts, the scent of eucalyptus quickly filling the room. The tension in Logan’s posture eases as you finish preparing the bath, but he still eyes you like he’s not entirely sure what comes next. 

Once the tub is filled, you shut off the tap and turn back towards him. “Okay, now strip.”

Logan smirks and raises an eyebrow. “Oh, so this is what you really wanted.”

“You’re not that hard to get naked, Logan,” you say with a laugh. 

He chuckles, but follows your instruction, pulling his shirt over his head. As you join him in undressing, you can’t help but admire his physique, his muscles flexing and gliding beneath his skin. You shimmy your panties down your hips as he kicks off his pants, leaving you both bare. 

You feel his gaze heavy on your skin as you step into the tub and beckon him to join you. He steps in, sitting down so his back is against your chest and he lets out a low groan as the warm water envelopes him.  Wrapping your legs around his hips, you cradle him and feel the tension ease from his muscles. 

“See?” you say, leaning to press a kiss to his temple. “Isn’t this nice?”

Logan peeks up at you and smirks. “The naked woman helps.”

You grab a washcloth and dip into the water to dampen it before running it over his chest. “You don’t have to admit you like it,” you say, rubbing the cloth in gentle circles along his collarbones. “You’re basically a wet noodle in my arms.”

He makes a wordless noise in the back of his throat and closes his eyes as you continue to wash him. A comfortable silence surrounds you, soft drops and splashes of water and the faint background hum of your apartment the only noises interrupting your space. You continue to wash him, gently massaging his shoulders, arms, down to the long fingers that know how to play you so well. A deep groan rumbles through his chest as you rub your fingers across the skin in between his knuckles. 

You eventually let the washcloth sink and wrap your arms Logan’s chest. He molds his arms against yours, lacing your fingers together. “I don’t deserve you,” he murmurs, his voice barely above a whisper. 

You shake your head and hold him just a little tighter. “You do, Logan. Despite your past, you’re a good man and you deserve someone to help shoulder your burdens.” Your voice is sincere as you press a soft kiss to the corner of his mouth. “Or least help you relax every once in a while.”

You soak until the water cools just enough to chill your skin. Reluctantly, you untangle yourself from him and nudge him to stand. He’s already got a towel slung low across his hips as you step out and he doesn’t even let you grab your own before pulling you close. 

A yelp dies on your lips as he cradles your face in his hands, thumbs pressing into the corners of your jaw as he tilts your mouth up to him. He inhales deeply through his nose, his lips moving expertly over yours, his tongue seeking the warmth of your kiss. 

You lean into him, your fingers trailing along his ribs and pressing into the damp of his skin. Logan kisses you once more, a gentle press to the corner of your mouth before he lets you go. 

“So,” he starts slowly, “Now that you’ve shown me how you relax, can I return the favor?”

A mischievous gleam dances in his eyes and he doesn’t give you time to answer before slinging you over this shoulder. Your giggles echo down the hallway as he carries you and he kicks open the bedroom door before setting you down on the bed. You scoot back and stare up at him with an expectant glance.

“Alright, sweetheart,” he says with a grin, “My turn.”

[nicholasgoodgirl]

sin? maybe - father charlie

summary: your priest takes you home and it leads to other things

warning: p in v, oral (m receiving), face fucking, after care, virginity loss.

a/n: chat idk how to feel abt this at all and am too scared to read it back. i swear if i spelling his name wrong the whole time. im deleting this acc off the face of the earth

3:23pm

you were waiting in the rain; unbothered than anything. but there was no denying the tempeture change as the rain continued it was beginning to become unbearable. five minutes turning to ten, ten turning to fifteen. your mom still never came

you walked back into the church drenched from all the rain. your white dress sticking to you, it was still cold in the church nonetheless.

"y/n?" you turn around to your name being called "what are you still doing here?" father charlie asked.

"oh my mom never came to get me" she probably drank to much and passed out somewhere, it was embarrassing to admit but thats the only reason you went to church, so you can be far from her and to be nothing like her.

"you're all wet. how long have you been out there?" you shrug at his question. he tilted his head in observation looking you up and down; his eyes lingering longer on your breast.

that would have normally made you uncomfortable if it were anyone else, but it was father charlie and everyone knew him as the 'hot priest' and they weren't wrong either.

he clears his throat "uh I'll give you a ride home" he gave you a quick smile then grabbed his keys off the alter and on the way out grabbing his umbrella.

he put his hand on your lower back guiding you under the umbrella. he gave you the keys so you can unlock the car "why don't you start the car up while you're at it"

"oh i dunno how" you declined the offer politely but he insisted that you did it anyways so he can hold the umbrella for you.

you open the car door and bend over putting the upper half of your body inside the car and trying to start it up like that instead of actually sitting down. the key wouldn't really turn so you put your knee on the seat getting into the car more. while doing this you could gradually feel your dress raise. something in you just knew he was looking up your dress

you give up "i can't get it to start" he lets out a low chuckle and takes the keys from you and gestures for you to get out the car. you hold the umbrella while he gets in the car to start it up. the engine cuts on and he takes the umbrella from you and walks you to the passanger side and shuts the door behind you.

--

3:34 pm

in the car everything he did and had in his car intrigued you. the way he drives with one hand on the wheel and the other hand rested on his leg. the blankets he had in the backseat, the rosemary cross that was hanging from the rearview mirror

"whats your house adress?" he questioned parking at the stop sign, waiting for your answer.

you shrug again "you don't know where you live?" he probed. you did but it was embarrassing to think about how if your moms boyfriend saw you with a guy he would beat you.

"do you wanna come to my house instead" his question was almost hesitant but i accepted the offer with a smile.

--

4:01 pm

his house was nothing fancy, the aura of the place was comforting. he started a fire in the fireplace and it set a more warm tone in the room.

"you can use my shower. just walk down the hall, it's to your right. I'll bring you a warm towel and clothes"

you walk down the hall and take a turn to the right and find his bathroom. it was definitely not like the bathroom at your house. it was clean the, the scent of father charlie lingered.

you undress then walk over to the shower putting it on hot. a couple minutes into the warm water hitting your body changing your body temperature from cold to warm there was knocks at the door.

"It's unlocked!" i yelled from the shower. and the door opens "i have no actual clothes that you would probably wear to bed but you can wear one of my shirts" ,,don't even worry about it" you reassure

it didn't matter to you, you actually liked the idea of prancing around in that mans shirt. you couldn't forgive yourself for how bad you wanted him to fuck you in the shower.

"well call me if you need anything" he opens the door to leave out. "wait!- wait.. father charlie"

"you can just call me charlie" he corrects. "could you maybe talk to me about your day or anything i don't wanna be alone right now"

you could hear father charlie chuckle at the question "sure. why not"

he began talking about his day while i cleaned myself off. he went into detail about how he made his breakfast and how precise everything had to be. meanwhile i just couldn't get the thought of him talking me through sex.

"you're doing so well"

"how does that feel"

"you need me to slow down" the thought didn't stop it felt so wrong but you needed him. you were giving him hums to let him know you were still listening.

you turn the water off "can you hand me my towel" your hand reaches out of the curtain and you can feel the towel being placed in your hand "thank you"

"can i-" he was cut off by you walking out the shower with just your towel on. he cleared his throat "I'm gonna go" he reached for the door but you grabbed his arm and stopped him.

"will you stop it" he snaps. both his hands grab your arm "stop! im trying so hard not to sin but for fucks sake you're making it nearly impossible"his words comes flying out faster than you could process

"oh.." you mumbled. "y'know we can do something about your little problem" you look down at the buldge in his pants.

he wasnt wearing his vestmant anymore he was just in a black button up with some black formal pants making it more noticeable.

"fucking hell" he grumbled, rolling his eyes. "such a slut. i thought you would have been good. looked so pure" he spat almost like it wasn an insult. "guess not"

"have you ever touched youreslf?" the question wasnt one you would like to answer cause you always felt shame afterwards but nodded anyways avoiding eyes contact; not proud of your doings.

"of course you do" he breathed out "on your knees" ,,what?" you question unsure if you heard him right

"baby you have been so sweet to me so far and I'd hate it if i have to repeat myself"

you drop to your knees and he unbuckles his belt not breaking eye contact with you once. father charlie pulls his pants down and his underwear.

you grab his dick and put it in your mouth. hallowing your cheeks out "look at you taking me so well" he tangles his hand in your hair, grabbing ahold of it and pushing your head forward causing you to gag; you could feel him touching the back of your throat.

"lord please forgive me" he whispered so low it's a suprise you even heard the words come out his mouth

at this point he was just fucking your face, he was watching as his cock disappeared into your mouth. after a while your eyes began to water.

he pulls you away from him "stand up" ,,did i do something wrong?" you ask, letting your towel drop, standing to your feet. wanting to fix any mistake you made along the way. "no sweetheart, you did just fine i just wanna be inside you instead"

he turns you over but you weren't as thrilled about this as he probably was. you were a virgin and too scared to tell him.

he bends you over the counter and you grab ahold of it for support. he lines himself up with you and pushes in

"so fucking tight" he groaned. "wait-" you hit the counter top with your hand "please just wait" you whine

he stops what he's doing and waits for your signal to go "you can move.." my words come out sounding almost strangled.

he pushed in and out of you and for a second you can hear his breath hitch "are you on your period?"

"what!? no" you look behind you and see his lips slowly curl into a smirk "you're a virgin aren't you?" ,,mhm" you nod "even better" he gloated

you could feel his dick hit a spot that made your toes curl. the burning sensation goes away with each rut. you let a few whimpers slip and a grunt with every thrust; your body jolting forward.

he gripped your hips tightly to allow himself to pound into you. you could have sworn you felt his tip hit your cervix.

the sounds of skin slapping against eachother flooded the bathroom "you're such a slut. letting your priest fuck you over a bathroom counter"

he pulled your hair back putting you into a deeper arch, to hit your sweet spot. a guttural moan leaves your lips "oh fuck" you moan.

father charlies hand goes down to your clit rubbing firm circles, sharp uneven breaths pulled through you as you could feel your orgasm approching.

with no warning his warm seed coats your insides, as he rides out his high. his fingers continues to rub in circular motion which makes you finish next; unfolding right there.

you hold his hand to stop him. "im done i can't take anymore" you whisper.

"im sure" he pulls out letting a hiss escape, then walks over to the shower and letting the water run again. the both of you get in and shower together.

he got done before you and while you were still getting clean he made you a snack.

--

5:59 pm

you two were laid in bed. your head resting on father charlies chest while he traces light shapes on your skin.

"what do i tell my mom" you ask. "whatever you want sweet girl" he kissed your head. what were you gonna tell your mom, you were with another man in his shirt. and overall he's the priest of the church you go to.

[wolvietxt]

💭 thinking about…

𝗅𝗈𝗀𝖺𝗇 𝗁𝗈𝗐𝗅𝖾𝗍𝗍 𝗑 𝗉𝗋𝖾𝗀𝗇𝖺𝗇𝗍 𝗋𝖾𝖺𝖽𝖾𝗋!

pairing : logan howlett x afab!reader warnings : pregnancy, kissing, food mentions, fluff word count : 1k

you’re curled up on the couch, hand resting on your belly, when logan walks in. he’s sporting his usual tough exterior, but there’s a softness in his eyes when he sees you. he drops his keys on the table and makes his way over, sitting beside you, closer than usual.

“how’re you feeling?” he asks, voice low, almost gruff, like he’s trying not to let too much concern show. but you know him well enough to catch it.

you smile, leaning your head against his shoulder. “a bit tired. baby’s been kicking a lot today.”

he reaches out, hesitating for just a second before resting his hand on your belly, his fingers splayed out. he’s not one for grand gestures, but this small one speaks volumes. “this little one’s got some fight in ‘em,” he says, a hint of pride in his tone.

“just like their dad,” you tease, nudging him gently. you feel the warmth of his hand through your shirt, grounding you in a way that words never could.

he huffs a quiet laugh, but his eyes are serious when he looks at you. “you’re okay, though? really?”

you nod, reaching up to touch his cheek. “i’m okay, logan. really.”

there’s a moment of silence, the kind that’s comfortable, where neither of you feel the need to fill it with words. logan’s thumb strokes your belly absentmindedly, and you can tell he’s lost in thought.

“you ever… think about what it’s gonna be like?” he finally asks, his voice barely above a whisper.

“all the time,” you admit. “sometimes it’s scary, but mostly… i’m excited.”

he shifts a little, like he’s trying to find the right words. “i don’t… i mean, i know i’m not the best at this stuff. i’m not good with, y’know, talking about… feelings. but i’m here. for you. for both of you.”

his words are clumsy, but they hit you straight in the heart. you know how hard it is for him to open up like this, and it means more to you than anything. you take his hand in yours, squeezing it gently.

“you’re already doing great, logan,” you say softly. “we’re in this together, remember?”

he nods, his grip on your hand tightening just a bit. “yeah. together.”

another kick makes you both jump a little, and logan’s eyes widen in surprise. “was that…?”

you laugh, nodding. “yeah, i think they’re trying to say hi.”

logan’s expression softens in a way that makes your heart melt. he leans down, pressing his forehead against your belly. “hey, kiddo,” he murmurs, his voice low and rough but filled with an emotion that makes your throat tighten. “can’t wait to meet you.”

he stays like that for a while, his breath warm against your skin, and you run your fingers through his hair, feeling a sense of peace settle over you. this is your life now, and it’s more than you ever hoped for.

when he finally sits back up, there’s a small, almost shy smile on his face. “you hungry? i could make something… or we could order in, whatever you want.”

“you cooking?” you raise an eyebrow playfully. “now that’s something i’d like to see.”

“hey, ‘m not that bad,” he grumbles, but there’s a playful glint in his eye. “but seriously, you gotta eat. it’s important.”

“you’re right,” you agree, feeling a wave of affection for him. “how about we order in? and maybe we can try cooking together later. it could be fun.”

logan seems to consider this, then nods. “yeah, bub. that sounds good.”

you pick up your phone, scrolling through options while logan watches, still keeping one hand on your belly, as if he needs that connection to both of you. you glance at him, catching the way his eyes soften whenever he looks at you, the tension in his shoulders easing just a little.

“what?” he asks when he notices you staring.

“nothing,” you say, smiling. “just… i’m really glad it’s you, logan. that ‘m doing all this with you.”

he looks like he wants to say something, but instead, he just leans in, kissing your forehead. it’s a simple gesture, but it’s filled with everything he’s not saying, everything he’s not good at putting into words.

“me too,” he finally whispers against your skin.

logan’s arm tightens around you as you settle against him, your head resting on his shoulder. the quiet between you is filled with a kind of warmth that makes you feel safe, like nothing in the world could touch you here. you tilt your head up, catching his gaze.

“logan,” you whisper, your voice soft, almost hesitant.

he looks down at you, his expression unreadable but his eyes so full of something deep, something that you know is hard for him to show. without a word, he reaches up, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear, his fingers lingering on your cheek. you can feel his rough calluses against your skin, a reminder of just how strong and steady he is.

his eyes search yours, and for a moment, you think he might say something, but then he just dips his head, closing the small gap between you. his lips meet yours, gentle at first, almost like he’s afraid of breaking you, but when you kiss him back, he deepens it, his hand sliding to the back of your neck, holding you in place.

it’s not a desperate kiss, not rushed or frantic. it’s slow, deliberate, like he’s pouring everything he can’t say into this one moment. you can feel the warmth of him, the way his breath mingles with yours, and it makes you feel more connected to him than ever.

when you finally pull away, you’re both breathless, but neither of you moves far. his forehead rests against yours, and you can feel the rise and fall of his chest as he tries to steady his breathing.

“i’m not going anywhere,” he murmurs, his voice rough with emotion. “you and the baby… you’re my everything.”

you smile, your fingers tracing the line of his jaw. “i know. and you’re ours.”

he leans in for one more quick kiss, a soft brush of his lips against yours, before he pulls back, his hand finding its place on your belly again. the world outside feels distant, unimportant. right here, with him, is where you’re meant to be.

[yamsfrecklvs]

tits, ass or thighs?

ft. kuroo, iwaizumi, oikawa, bokuto, tsukishima, atsumu, osamu

warnings: i mean... the title speaks for itself i think! implied fem reader ; also not proofread

MDNI!!!

☆ kuroo : tetsuro is a simple man. there isn't a single thing he doesn't like about you. but the man absolutely adores thighs. put on a pair of shorts or a miniskirt and he'll fall to his knees. to be fair, he's a man of taste, so not only does he love thighs, but he's also a sucker for ass. can and will smack it whenever he can, not even in a strictly sexual way, but simply because he likes having his hands on you. ass and thighs will absolutely be used as a pillow, there's no debating it. he will also not so sneakily squeeze your thigh while sitting down or grip it while he’s driving and you’re in the passenger seat. hell, he’d die between your thighs if he could, because let me remind you, this man is an EATER. (just leaving this here)

☆ iwaizumi : i mean, have you seen him? ass. he physically cannot function if he sees you in tight skirts or pants and his hand can always be found in your back pocket if you two are walking together. definitely lightly smacks your butt to celebrate or tell you that you're doing a good job (throwback to him smacking makki's ass bc he scored a point). loves loves looooves to leave marks on it - fingerprints, bites, hickeys, you name it - and he will shamelessly stare at it in public.

☆ oikawa : i think we can all agree on the fact that this man loves tits. seriously. doesn't care if they're big or small, he just loves your chest. he will absolutely use them as pillows and/or slip his hands under your shirt while you're cuddling. loves to see you walk around the house without your bra on, bonus points if you're wearing his clothes. and if there's one thing that makes his knees weak it's seeing tan lines on your chest - one look and he's over the moon. he also probably has a thing for cute lingerie, especially cute bras - or rather, he has a thing for taking said cute lingerie off of you.

☆ bokuto : don't ask him. he genuinely cannot choose, it's physically impossible for him, especially because he's got his hands all over you 99% of the time. probably has a slight preference for ass but he doesn't even realize it. you definitely have his handprints all over your ass because he cannot for the love of god control his strength but he also profusely says sorry if he ever hurts you. either way, wear anything remotely tight or revealing and he's gonna lose his mind.

☆ tsukishima : he will never ever admit it, but tits. he says he doesn’t care and claims to love every part of you equally, but you’ll definitely catch him lacking if you wear anything low cut. of course, he isn’t the type to shamelessly stare at your boobs, we’re talking about kei after all, but you know him, and you can tell his eyes linger on your chest just a little more than usual. and also, they’re the first place he reaches for when cuddling gets a little spicier. probably likes leaving marks on your tits because they’re not as visible as your neck and because he swears that ‘hickeys are stupid’. he still does it nonetheless. again, doesn’t mind if they’re big or small. he just loves them.

☆ atsumu : take a good look at him and tell me this man isn’t a certified boob lover. seriously. bonus points if you have your nips pierced. he just loves boobs. back hug? his hands are finding their way on your chest. cuddling? his face is pressed between your tits. doesn’t give a fuck about looking like an idiot while gawking at them, either. he’s just completely enamoured with them, probably loves to suck on them too. also, i feel like he has a thing for girls with tiny waists, don’t know why. he too loves to spoil you with pretty lingerie and definitely loses his mind whenever he sees a bra strap peeking out of any of your shirts.

☆ osamu : now, hear me out. osamu miya loves to cook. he also loves a woman who EATS. for this reason i’m a firm believer of osamu being a man who loves thighs. loves having his face between them, using them as a pillow, biting into them. he will go insane for thigh highs and absolutely adores when they get bigger as you sit down. there’s nothing this man appreciates more than a pair of pretty legs showing up under a short skirt. he would gladly be crushed by your thighs, but he doesn’t dismiss ass either. generally, i think he likes everything - but thighs, they’re his utter weakness. expect many, many hickeys and marks all over them. and, just like kuroo, i just have the slightest feeling that osamu is a munch - make him suffocate and he’ll die happy.

@yamsfrecklvs

[gilverrwrites]

Thinking about clit slapping again, per 2.5 asks, ya’ll make some great observations. Ft. Bruce, Dick, Jason, Tim, & Roy.

Bruce

Thinking about Bruce who loves to tease you with a straight face. Who tells you to “be patient”, who’s helping you build on your self-restraint by touching every inch of you with those big, thick hands except the one place you keep begging him for.

Bruce who keeps you on edge until it’s unbearable, until on a whim you decide if he’s not going to do anything about it, you will.

Bruce who grumbles in your ear, low and restrained; “What did I tell you?”

Bruce who opens your slick folds, in a controlled, slow motion which only serves to make you needier until he comes down on your sensitive clit with his other hand. The obscene smack that rings through his chambers is almost drowned out by your anguish, desperate cry.

Dick

Dick with his long, dexterous fingers who loves to explore every crevice of your body. Who would do anything to keep hearing you make those pretty noises for him.

Dick who knows the key to keeping you sex dazed is working your clit until it’s dark and swollen and you’re incapable of following a thought. So he rubs and grinds against it, swirls his tongue around it, and laps until his jaw is soaked in his own saliva and your juices.

And then one day, with no forethought, Dick flicks it with the back of his middle finger and the resulting sob was so delicious he had to eat up more.

“You’re so perfect, baby.” Dick purrs between sloppy kisses and strikes of growing intensity. “Do it again, baby. Come on, just for me pretty girl.”

Jason

And Jason, who is big and tough, and rough around the edges but would do anything you want to hear you praise him.

“You like that, sweetheart?” He asks you over and over again, basking and melting just a little bit more every time you reply with “Fuck, yes Jason! Feels so good baby.”

“Who? Who makes you feel good?” He begs for more. “You Jason, you!”

So when you ask Jason to try slapping your clit, he doesn’t hesitate. He slaps it once, savouring the way your body tremors under the force of his brawny hand. Twice, and he can’t believe how lucky he is to have found someone so beautiful and shameless as you. Three times, with no end in sight.

Tim

Tim read about it in an cosmopolitan article and can’t wait for the chance to experiment with you, and he knows if he plays his cards just right you’ll always cave.

“Spread your legs.” He murmurs in a voice that’s assertive but so soft. The tips of his long hair tickle your soft skin as he kisses his way down your torso. Tim’s warm, calloused hands guiding your thighs apart as he slinks between them. “That’s it hon, just like that.”

He intends to warm you up, to rub your pretty little clit beneath his thumb until you’re pleading for more, to spell T-I-M on it with his tongue over and over but; “I’ve barely touched you and you’re this wet already?”

Before you can answer Tim used two fingers to spread your slick folds apart and delivers a sharp slap right where you’re most sensitive, blue eyes unblinking, soaking in your reaction.

Despite knowing from the way your back arches and your eyes roll back, Tim asks; “Did you like that baby, do you want more?”

Roy

Your body is like target practice to Roy, which is to say; he never misses.

Roy has every inch of you ingrained in his mind. Teasing, and touching, and getting you off is as easy to him as firing his bow, its muscle memory.

Not once does Roy need to break away from your needy, heated kisses as he undresses you. There’s not a thought in his head other than how hot you look when you’re dishevelled and riled up as he unhooks your bra or curls his fingers on your core.

Roy brags that he could find your clit, one-handed and blindfolded, and sometimes he likes to put that into practice. He tells you to “Lay back, Princess.” Then he closes his eyes, makes a show of spinning around or pretending to sniff you out and then he spanks your clit with the kind of powerful precision only he could possess.

Taglist: @wandalfnation