#but i could not resist these ones i love them

[burrowlvrr]

— MORTGAGE MISCHIEF, joe burrow.

PAIRING: Joe Burrow 𝔁 Black!Wife!Reader

GENRE: Husband & Dad Joe

SUMMARY: In which — Y/N caves in and makes a TikTok account, and it doesn't take long for her to try to prank her unserious husband.

NOTE: I love this trend on TikTok so freaking much, bro, I just couldn't help myself. I wish there was more pranks going around TikTok so I could write another one lol! Feel free to send me more ideas and suggestions, enjoy!

UNIVERSE: Tenderhearts & Touchdowns!

Y/N had never been the kind of person to keep up with social media trends. Her Instagram was mostly filled with family snapshots, vacation photos, and the occasional throwback post from her college days. TikTok, though? That was a whole different ballgame.

She’d heard the buzz about it, of course—the dances, the memes, the endless rabbit hole of videos that could steal hours of your day—but it wasn’t really her thing.

That is, until some of Joe’s fans started flooding her DMs.

It wasn’t unusual for her to get messages from fans, most of them kind and supportive, occasionally sprinkled with the usual social media chaos. But after a family photo Joe posted went viral—a candid shot of the two of them laughing while their kids played in the background—her inbox blew up.

Several people had suggested she start a TikTok account, saying things like, “Your family is so cute, we’d love to see more of you guys!” and “Please post more videos of Joe being a dad; it’s the content we all need!”

At first, she brushed it off. The idea of putting her family out there in such a public way made her hesitant. Their life was private, cozy, and real—did she really want to open that up to the internet? But the messages kept coming, and her curiosity eventually got the better of her. One evening, after the kids were asleep and Joe was watching game highlights, she downloaded the app.

It didn’t take long for TikTok to reel her in. The first few days, she lurked quietly, scrolling through endless videos of clever pranks, hilarious parenting fails, and, of course, a whole section of TikToks dedicated to football wives and girlfriends. It was the pranks that hooked her.

Women were pulling the funniest, most creative stunts on their unsuspecting husbands—pretending to be mad over made-up arguments, mispronouncing their favorite athletes’ names, and her personal favorite, casually dropping bombshell “confessions” to see how their partners would react.

She couldn’t resist.

“This would be perfect for Joe,” she’d said to herself one night, already grinning at the thought. He was so even-keeled most of the time, but his sass came out when he was caught off guard, and she couldn’t wait to see what he’d say.

So, Y/N started posting. At first, it was just lighthearted videos of their kids, like Hudson and Elijah racing each other in the backyard or Sawyer trying to crawl after their dog, who always managed to stay just out of reach. The comments poured in, full of love and laughter, and she started to feel less nervous about sharing these little moments. And then came the pranks.

She eased into them, starting small—things like pretending to forget what day of the week it was or asking Joe if she could switch his game-day hoodie with one of hers. His reactions were gold, and her videos started gaining traction. She didn’t know how many people would find it so funny, but apparently, the internet loved Joe Burrow getting pranked as much as she did.

Which is how she found herself, phone in hand, ready to execute her latest and possibly best trend yet: the “I can’t pay the mortgage this month” prank.

The living room buzzed with the quiet hum of family life. Hudson and Elijah were seated cross-legged on the rug, their faces scrunched in concentration as they connected Lego pieces, the colorful blocks scattered across the coffee table like a mini construction zone. Sawyer, their youngest, was on the floor nearby, rolling lazily on her playmat while holding her bottle with both hands, occasionally babbling nonsense to herself.

Joe was stretched out on the couch, the epitome of relaxation in his gray hoodie and sweatpants, his wife’s legs comfortably draped over his thighs. His focus was glued to the MMA fight playing on the TV, and he absently stirred his spoon around a bowl of cereal balanced in his hand.

Every so often, he’d let out a low, “Oof,” reacting to a particularly hard punch or takedown, his body slightly tensing with the action on screen.

Y/N sat beside him, phone in hand, scrolling through TikTok. She stumbled across the trend a few hours ago, and decided that now was too good an opportunity to pass up.

Glancing sideways at Joe, she smirked to herself. This will be fun.

She adjusted her phone subtly, angling it to record, and cleared her throat dramatically. “Joe?”

“Hmm?” he murmured, not taking his eyes off the screen as he scooped another bite of cereal.

“I need to tell you something,” she said softly, injecting a hint of nervousness into her tone.

Joe didn’t look up. “What’s up, baby?”

“Don’t get mad at me, okay?” she added, biting her bottom lip to suppress a grin.

That got his attention. Joe’s hand froze midair, his spoon hovering over the bowl, and he turned his head toward her, squinting slightly.

“What? Why would I get mad?” His sharp gaze shifted to the phone in her lap. “Wait… why’re you recording? You pregnant again?”

Y/N burst out laughing at his assumption, unable to keep up her serious facade. “What? No!”

“Are you sure? ‘Cause that’s how you told me about Sawyer,” he replied with a smirk, leaning back on the couch and rubbing his free hand over his face.

“You just pulled out your phone, started recording, and bam—‘Congratulations, you’re gonna be a dad again!’” Y/N rolled her eyes but couldn’t help giggling. “I’m serious, Joe. This is important.”

“Alright, alright,” he said, setting his cereal down on the side table and shifting so he was facing her fully. “What’s going on? And why are you being all dramatic about it?”

Y/N took a deep breath, steadying herself before delivering her line. “I, uh… I won’t be able to pay the mortgage this month.”

Joe blinked at her, his brows knitting together in confusion. “Girl, what are you talking about?” His tone was casual but tinged with disbelief.

She tried to keep her composure, clasping her hands together as if pleading. “The school’s on winter break, so my paycheck isn’t going to be enough. I just—ugh, I didn’t want to disappoint you.”

Joe stared at her for a moment, his expression unreadable. “Okay, wait. How much is the mortgage?”

Y/N’s mouth opened and closed like a fish out of water. “Uh… like… $2,000?” she guessed, feigning confidence.

Joe’s mouth twitched, and he let out a low chuckle, shaking his head. “Babe. You don’t even know how much it is, do you?”

“Well…” she stalled, trying to recover.

“That’s what I thought,” he said, leaning back against the couch and crossing his arms. “You’ve never paid the mortgage.”

“I know!” Y/N blurted, throwing her hands up dramatically. “I was going to as your Christmas present, but my paycheck won’t be enough now!”

Joe’s brow furrowed again, but this time his lips quirked upward, unable to hide his amusement. “So let me get this straight. You don’t know how much the mortgage is. You’ve never paid it before. And now you’re stressed because your Christmas present was gonna be paying it, but you can’t?”

“Exactly!” she said, doubling down.

For a moment, Joe just stared at her, then he broke into a deep laugh, leaning forward to rest his elbows on his knees. “You’re crazy,” he muttered, shaking his head. Grabbing his cereal bowl, he leaned back against the couch.

“Don’t worry about it, babe. I got it.” He scooped another spoonful and took a bite like it was the most casual thing in the world.

Y/N couldn’t hold it in any longer. She burst into laughter, clutching her stomach as she nearly dropped her phone.

Joe raised an eyebrow at her, still chewing. “What’s so funny now?”

“It was a TikTok prank!” she wheezed, wiping tears of laughter from her eyes.

Joe’s smirk deepened as he shook his head. “Yeah, I figured. There’s no way you were being serious.”

“You were so calm about it, though!” she said, still laughing. “I really thought I’d get a bigger reaction out of you!”

“Nah,” Joe replied, reaching over to pinch her ankle playfully. “You’re too bad at lying, babe. Next time, at least Google how much the mortgage is first.”

From the floor, Hudson looked up from the Lego set with a curious expression. “What’s a mortgage?”

Joe snorted, pointing his spoon at his son. “Something you don’t gotta worry about, buddy.”

Elijah chimed in without looking up from his Legos. “Mommy’s bad at pranks.”

Sawyer let out a happy babble from her playmat, almost as if she agreed.

Joe laughed, pulling Y/N closer with one arm. “Looks like the jury’s unanimous, babe. Better luck next time.”

[swappermanent]

Raw

I love fucking guys raw.

I mean, most muscle tops like me do. It just feels better—the glide, the sensitivity, the tightness—it’s almost intoxicating. But for me, there’s something more to it, something deeper.

You see, I have this ability. I can possess guys, make their bodies my own. Take control, live in their skin, feel their power, their desires. But there’s a catch—I can only do it if I get my cum deep enough inside them.

I don’t talk about it much. Hell, who would believe me? It sounds like some twisted porn fantasy, but for me, it’s real. It’s been years since I last did it, though. Decades, maybe. I’ve been this guy—this towering, muscle-bound hunk—for so long now, I don’t even remember what I looked like before.

Not that I’m complaining. This body’s a goddamn masterpiece. Broad shoulders, sculpted pecs, abs like a carved statue. Every time I walk into a gym or a club, heads turn. People stare. Some with awe, others with hunger. It’s addictive, the power this body commands.

But lately, I’ve been feeling… restless. Something’s shifted inside me. I used to thrive on the dominance, on the control. But now? Now I want something else. Something I haven’t had in a long time.

I want to give up control.

But I couldn’t find anyone worth giving up my body for until I met Bastian.

He was the perfect type of submissive—super muscular in all the right ways but smaller in stature, like his body was built to fit against mine. He had a confidence that was rare in guys like him, but when I got close enough, I could see it in his eyes: that flicker of curiosity, that hunger to be taken and owned.

We met at a straight bar of all places, a spot neither of us belonged in. I was nursing a whiskey, my usual method of blending in, when I noticed him across the room. He was leaning against the bar, his tight black tee clinging to a body that screamed gym rat but didn’t quite cross into the intimidating territory of mine. His dark hair was messy in a deliberate way, his sharp jawline dusted with a five o’clock shadow. He caught my eye once, then twice, and I knew.

After a few glances exchanged and a casual approach, we started talking. The conversation was light at first—what brought us to the bar, work, the usual stuff. But there was an unspoken tension between us, something electric in the way his gaze lingered on my arms, my chest.

“You’re not really into this scene, are you?” I’d asked, smirking over the rim of my glass.

He chuckled, his voice low and smooth. “Not really. I guess I was hoping to run into someone like you.”

That was all it took. Numbers exchanged, a few texts over the next couple of days, and then he invited me over.

Which brings us to now.

I’ve got Bastian bent over the kitchen counter, his shirt tossed somewhere behind us, his gym shorts shoved down to his knees. His muscular back flexes under my hands as I press my body against his, one arm wrapping around his torso to pull him closer.

And good for him—he was responsible and made me wrap it up. You could tell he was doing it out of obligation, not because he really wanted to. He probably had a scare recently, something that left its mark. I could work with that.

After a solid amount of foreplay—my lips trailing over his neck, his hands gripping my biceps like he was hanging on for dear life—I finally positioned myself behind him. I slicked myself up, rolling the condom over and coating it with lube. Then, I pressed forward, slowly, feeling the resistance of his tightness giving way to me.

He moaned as I slipped inside him, a sound that sent a shiver straight through me. His back arched, muscles rippling under his smooth, tan skin. I groaned in response, the sensation overwhelming even through the barrier between us. Damn, this kid was tight. Perfectly tight. Like his body was made to take me.

I looked down, my hands roaming over his toned form as I moved deeper. His abs were firm under my fingers, his pecs flexing with every breath he took. My touch drifted lower, tracing the sharp lines of his obliques, my fingertips gliding over the sheen of sweat that clung to his skin.

Damn, I needed to be him so bad.

The thought hit me like a wave, more intense than anything I’d felt in years. It wasn’t just lust or a passing fantasy. It was that familiar, burning desire—the craving to take over, to sink into him completely, to make his body mine.

I leaned down, my chest pressing against his back, my lips brushing his ear. “You’re perfect,” I murmured, my voice low and rough.

He turned his head slightly, his face flushed, his lips parted as he gasped for breath. “Fuck,” he whispered, his voice trembling. “You’re… incredible.”

I smirked, my hips moving in a steady rhythm now, each thrust making him shudder beneath me. My fingers tightened on his waist, holding him steady as I claimed him. The pull inside me was growing stronger, the energy crackling just beneath my skin. I could feel it, the connection between us deepening with every second.

“Relax,” I whispered, my tone softening as I slowed my pace, giving him a moment to adjust. “You’re doing so good for me.”

His only response was a breathy moan, his body melting under my touch. He was surrendering completely, and I could feel it—the trust, the vulnerability. It was intoxicating.

I closed my eyes, letting myself get lost in the moment, in the feeling of him around me. My power was there, waiting, ready to take him if I wanted. All I needed to do was get thi condom off.

“You’re doing so good for me,” I whisper, my voice low and soothing against his ear as I press him further into the counter. My hands glide down his sides, feeling the way his body responds to every movement I make.

As the rhythm builds, I let the words slip out casually, my tone almost teasing. “You know… it’d feel even better if we lost this condom.” My hand brushes his hip as I emphasize my point. He tenses slightly, just enough for me to notice.

“No,” he mutters, his voice soft but firm. “We’re keeping it on.”

I let it go, for now. Shifting positions, I move him to the bed and pull him upright, his back flush against my chest as I guide him to straddle me. He moves with me willingly, his legs wrapping around my waist, his arms gripping my shoulders for balance. The heat between us is electric, his body warm and pliant against mine.

As I thrust into him, I bring it up again, this time leaning in close, my lips grazing his neck. “You know you’d love it if daddy took this off,” I murmur, my voice dripping with confidence.

His breath hitches, his grip on my shoulders tightening. “No,” he says again, but there’s hesitation in his voice now, a flicker of doubt.

I smirk, pressing my advantage. “Come on, Bastian. You know it’d feel so much better. For both of us.” My hips roll slowly, deliberately, drawing another moan from his lips. “Don’t you trust me?”

His response is a shaky exhale, but he doesn’t say anything. I keep pushing, my words soft and coaxing. “You’re so tight, baby. Imagine how good it’d feel without this in the way. Just me and you. Nothing else.”

He shakes his head, but the movement is weak, almost reluctant. “No… we can’t…”

I keep up the pressure, the words spilling out between breaths as I drive into him. Ugh, I needed to become this kid so bad. “You know you want it. You know you want me to fill you up, don’t you?”

His protests grow quieter, less convincing, and I can feel him starting to waver. I glance down, snapping at the edge of the condom with my thumb, rolling it slightly down my shaft. The latex stretches but doesn’t give, still clinging to me. He feels it, glancing over his shoulder with a soft gasp.

“Hey,” he says, his tone half-hearted. “What are you…?”

“Relax,” I murmur, holding him steady as I keep moving. “It’s still on.”

His protests don’t come again, or if they do, they’re lost in the sounds of his own moans and the slap of skin against skin. I keep it mostly on, the plastic rolled down just enough to feel the faintest hint of skin on skin when I slid all the way in. My hands grip his waist, pulling him closer, harder, as I push him right to the edge with me.

The tension builds as I pull out of him, the faint stretch of the condom still clinging to me. Without hesitation, I roll it off, making sure he sees me do it. I hold his gaze, the moment heavy with unspoken desire.

His lips part slightly, his breathing ragged as he watches me, his body still trembling from everything we’ve done so far. I smirk, letting the condom drop to the side as I position myself back at the entrance to his hole. My cock, now bare and slick, presses gently against him, teasing just the tip.

He looks at me, his expression conflicted—his body betraying how badly he wants this, even as his lips remain silent. I press forward just enough to make him gasp, then pull back again, repeating the motion to keep him on edge.

“Daddy knows you want his raw cock inside you,” I say, my voice soft but commanding. “I need you to say it.”

His mouth opens like he’s about to respond, but no words come out. Instead, he grips the bed tighter, his knuckles whitening as he fights the urge to give in.

I chuckle, leaning down slightly to brush my lips against his temple. “You don’t have to be shy, baby. Just say it, and I’ll give you everything you need.”

Still, he doesn’t say a word, but his body is speaking for him—the way his legs tremble, the way his back arches just enough to push himself closer to me. I keep teasing him with shallow presses, going just a bit deeper each time.

Until… oops.

I’m all the way in.

I stay there for a moment, letting him adjust, my cock buried to the hilt. His breath catches, his eyes wide as he looks up at me. I can feel his body trembling under mine, his resistance melting away with every second that passes.

I bring my hand up to his face, cupping his cheek gently. My thumb brushes over his skin as I lean in close, my lips hovering near his ear. “What do you want me to do?” I whisper, my tone low and intimate.

For a moment, there’s only silence, his breathing the only sound in the room. Then, finally, he speaks, his voice barely above a whisper but full of need. “I want you to fuck me.”

A slow smile spreads across my face as I press my forehead against his. “Good boy.”

And then I start to move. Slowly at first, savoring the way his body tightens around me, the way he gasps and moans with every thrust. My hands grip his hips, holding him steady as I pick up the pace, each movement deliberate, purposeful, claiming him completely.

“God, you feel so good,” I murmur, my voice thick with pleasure. His hands claw at the counter as I drive into him, his body rocking with every thrust.

This is what I’ve been waiting for—what I’ve been craving. The raw, unfiltered connection, the way he’s giving himself to me completely.

And I give him everything I have in return.

I’ve got him on his stomach now, his back glistening with sweat, his muscles flexing with every thrust. He’s gripping the edge of the bed, his knuckles white as I fuck him hard, driving into him with everything I have. His moans echo through the room, mixing with my own guttural groans as I get closer and closer to the edge.

I feel the tension in my body coiling tight, that familiar electric buzz building in my core. He clenches around me, and that’s it—I can’t hold back anymore. With one final thrust, I bury myself as deep as I can and finish inside him. The release is overwhelming, a wave of pure ecstasy that makes my vision blur and my breath catch in my throat.

And then it happens.

I feel it—the shift. My consciousness slipping, unraveling, like a thread being pulled loose. The world tilts, the sounds around me fading to a dull hum. For a moment, everything is weightless, disorienting, and then… nothing.

When I open my eyes again, everything feels different. The weight of my body, the angle of my vision, even the way the cool air brushes against my skin—it’s all unfamiliar. I blink, disoriented, my hands instinctively moving to press against the counter beneath me.

But they’re not my hands.

They’re his.

I’m in his body.

I glance down at myself—no, at him. My old body stands over me, towering, muscular, and glistening with sweat. The realization hits me like a freight train, the shock momentarily numbing my senses. My former body – again inhabited by its original owner completely unaware of the decade possession he just emerged from – looks down with a wicked grin, his eyes dark with hunger.

“Well,” he says, his voice low and dripping with amusement. “Looks like you finally gave in.”

I try to speak, but the words catch in my throat. My old body leans down, one strong hand cupping my—his—cheek, the other trailing down my—his—spine.

“You feel amazing,” he murmurs, his fingers tightening just enough to make me shiver. “And I’m not done with you yet.”

Before I can fully process what’s happening, he’s positioning himself again, the head of his cock already pressing back against me—against him.

“Ready for round two?” he asks, smirking as he slides into me.

The sensation is overwhelming, raw and intense in a way I never could have imagined. I moan—his voice, not mine, escaping my lips. My old body moves with the same confidence, the same dominance I’d always wielded. And now, I’m the one underneath, taking it all.

It’s exhilarating. Terrifying. Addictive.

And it’s just the beginning.

Inspired by Sharok and Bastian.

[probablyreadinsmut]

The Cooldown.

One shot.

Pairing: Boyfriend! Joel Miller x Mid/Plus size Afab!Reader

Pictures used are just for reference purposes, you are the lucky gal in this fic

Summary: Your boyfriend can't resist offering you a little post workout fun. Completely inspired by those pictures of Pedro from yesterday.

This one goes out to all my thigh riding girlie's (gn) <3

Warnings: 18+ MDNI! Established relationship, AU no outbreak, Mentions of being body conscious in the past, vague descriptions of being fuller figured nothing specific though, sweaty post gym thigh riding, Praise, dirty talk. Undefined legal age gap. Spanking.

Not beta'd and probably not proofread very well, putting the disorder in adhd, as ever. ✌️

Word Count: 1.1k

Masterlist

“C’mere baby” Joel’s patting his thick thigh with a lecherous grin on his face as he’s watching you peel off your gym wear, the damp nylon is sticking to every inch of you.

You respond with a soft snort “What do you mean come here? Joel, I feel gross. That work out nearly killed me today.” It had been his idea to start going to the gym together, another ‘couples bonding’ experience he’d said. He was big into that kind of thing, but honestly you were pretty sure it was so he could watch your tits and ass jiggle, he thought he was slick.

“Do I look like I care darlin’? Get that beautiful ass over here and ride my thigh, c’mon...” It’s a command and an invitation all in one, your boyfriend of two years knew what he wanted, he’s never sugar-coated it and that horny, feral part of your brain loved that about him.

So, you shuck off your sports bra over your head, tossing it into the hamper. You can feel the sweat that had collected beneath the material was now running down your sternum, trickling to your belly button. You’d already be in the shower if you were alone, but these days doing anything alone is a huge feat in itself where Joel is concerned. On the days he’s not working, or when Sarah is at school, he’s with you, making the most of your time together. Usually naked.

You watch as his once brown eyes go almost completely black with desire, pupils blown wide, the bulge in his sinfully short shorts is impossible to ignore. You’d tease him a little more if you weren’t so fucking turned on. Maybe a joint session at the gym had been for both his benefit and yours. He’d been eyeing you in your figure hugging leggings and tight little sports bra while you’d been ogling his thighs and ass the whole time.

You should have known that once you made it back to your place, you’d both be spending the rest of the day engaging in a more horizontal form of exercise.

So you tug off your leggings, shimmying out of them as you take your panties off with them, his eyes never leave you for a moment, his gaze is both predatory and appreciative. You’re his. Every day he thanks his lucky stars for that.

You put on a little show for him as you strut towards the bed where he sits, his thighs parted wide, leaning back on his palms. Your hips shake hypnotically with every step. Before Joel, you hadn’t loved your body that much, but now with the way he worships every dip and curve, whether it be with his eyes, lips, tongue or fingers, now you love your fuller frame. Gone are the days where you’d be covering up in t-shirts that swamped you at the gym, you were beautiful and you didn’t feel the need to hide any more.

You lower yourself onto his thick thigh, more defined these days, he’d said a while ago that he wanted to stay in shape now he was getting ‘older’, if not for his sake then for the sake of his babygirl and you were more than happy to support him, they way he supported you in everything you wanted to achieve.

“That’s it” He coos, leaning back just pinning you with a stare that has you melting already “Fuck darlin’ look at you, pretty as a picture. Y’look good just like this...”

You preen under his praise, a little giggle leaving you as you plant your hands on his broad shoulders and start to glide along his thigh, the ridges and hairs tickle your clit just right. “Maybe we just skip the gym next time... Stay home and fuck all day instead?” That earns you a sharp spank, making you gasp, soothed by his thick fingers pawing at the fleshy part of your cheek. It’s a sweet sting that’s left there, one you know has probably left a red mark, one that has your cunt clenching around nothing nonetheless, dribbling onto his naked thigh.

“I could spend all day in this pretty little pussy, y’know that” His hands come up to your hips, kneading the soft flesh under his fingertips “But there’s just something about you... All hot and sweaty out in public that makes my motor run baby... maybe next time y’let me fuck you in the locker room huh? Stay nice an’ quiet for me while I bend you over one of those benches? That sound good sugar?” he’s guiding you now, pressing you down harder against his thigh, urging you to roll those gorgeous hips of yours.

With a breathy moan you nod and he spanks you again, the slap echoing throughout the bedroom.

“Use your words sweetness, need t’hear you say it.”

You feel your release quickly creeping up on you, his thigh is getting slicker by the second. You grind yourself deeper agaisnt his thigh with his guidance giving your swollen little clit all the attention she so desperately needs. “Yes! Fuck baby- P-please next time... N-next time fuck me just like that...”

He can feel you tensing up on top of him, he can hear the little hitches in your breath all the subtle cues that tell him you’re about to make a mess on his thigh.

“That’s it darlin’ just like that, keep goin’.. Fuck... After this we’re gonna go take a shower together and I’m gonna bury my cock so deep inside you, that you won’t know where you end and I begin... Gonna make this tight little pussy sing for me” His jaw is set and tense as he grits his teeth, urging you to move faster, you look between the two of you seeing his cock straining painfully against the stretchy fabric of his shorts, begging to come out and play.

You throw your head back, nails digging into his taut flesh as your orgasm washes over you like a tidal wave of pleasure. The deep, filthy groan that leaves him as he watches you fall apart is one that will be engrained in your memory for years to come.

His thigh is soaked, he can feel it running down his knee and he fucking loves it. Your cries of ecstasy are just dying down when he releases his grip on your hips and helps you up onto your feet, holding you upright since you’re knees are buckling like a deer taking their first steps.

He’s guiding you towards the ensuite when he ducks his head down to drawl in your ear “C’mon baby, let’s get you all cleaned up so I can make you dirty again”.  

Tags: @almostempty @itwasntimethatdidit40 @joelmillerisapunk @baronessvonglitter @syd-djarin @mysterious-moonstruck-musings @guiltyasdave

[leonw4nter]

I Love My Wife!!!

Husband!DI!Leon x F!Reader

A downside to being one of the DSO’s top performing and most trusted agents since 1999 is to be entrusted with handling the new generation of fresh-faced recruits, training them in all aspects necessary to become the next best assets the government has in their fight against BOWs. With each new generation he trains, their slang only gets weirder as they get younger; just the other day, they called him ‘mama’ and said that ‘a girl behind you’. He looks back and sees no one, much to his pupils’ amusement and his ever-increasing confusion.

“What the hell does that mean now?” He asks Hunnigan over lunch before he takes a bite from the egg sandwich you prepared for him. “I never told them about the baby announcement and she didn’t visit yesterday.”

“Oh you know, it’s the kids’ slang. They don’t even make sense anymore,” she says with a restrained smile. “They don’t really mean anything, you just need to see the videos that provide the context but each time the context doesn’t even make sense.”

“Kids these days,” he mumbles as he shakes his head. His blond-turned-brown locks sway with the slight movement.

“Oh relax, you were their age once.” The communications expert agent teases.

“Yes, but our slang was never this nonsensical,” he retorts. “If you guessed smart enough you could figure out what the words actually meant back in ‘98.”

“Good point,” she agrees before digging into her salad. “They’re bringing back everything from the late 90s though: low-rise pants, flared jeans, mini shoulder bags, and so much more that I thought we left behind in the past.”

Lunch continued on smoothly with small conversations in between bites of sandwich and sips of soda. The phone on Leon’s chest pocket buzzed to life, an illuminated rectangle revealed behind thin cloth. Wiping his hands, he fishes it out and checks the caller ID.

“Gotta take this one,” he says as he gets up from the table. “She’s calling.”

He walks outside of the store and into a not-so-busy sidewalk, not letting his phone ring for a little longer.

“Hey sweetpea,” he says. “How’s your day goin’?”

He vividly visualizes your smile right before you speak. “Oh y’know, it’s great. Yours?”

“It’s been great too,” he can’t resist but let a smile tug the corner of his lips upward. “Why’d you call? Need anything?”

“Nope,” you pop the ‘P’ sound. “Just wanted to hear your voice today. Stupid reason, I know.”

“No, it’s not stupid sweetheart. I wanted to hear your voice too,” he softly responds. “Day’s going to be busy for me: bigwigs are making me teach theoreticals to the rookies today, it’s been a while since I’ve done one of these. They’re always boring.”

“I’ve never sat through one of your lessons but it already sounds boring,” you comment with a dramatic sigh.

“Are you saying that my teaching is boring?” He asks, voice laced with feigned offense.

“Well…” you trail off, breaking into a small giggle.

“You just broke my heart, ouch.”

“Kidding!” You swiftly respond even though you know his feelings were never hurt in the first place. “You’re such a drama queen.”

“That’s why I’m your husband.”

“Okay, that’s enough cheesiness for today mister. That’s all, you can get back to your lunch now.”

“That was just one joke,” he points out. “Okay, I’ll get back inside and demolish the rest of the sandwich you made me. Take care of yourself and the baby for me while I’m at work, okay honey?”

“Yes, I will, don’t worry.”

“Okay, that’s great. You end the call, I love you so much.”

“I love you too, baby.”

The call ends so he brings his phone away from his ear, lovingly taking a moment to admire your beaming self saved as his contact photo– you, bundled in dense scarves and insulating layers, smiling brightly at him in the middle of a street covered in crunchy white now. He walks back in the shop, taking his seat to finish up the rest of his snack and energize for the long day that is yet to unfurl.

─────────────────────────────────────────────────────

Nightfall has finally seized the day, the absence of the sun in the sky prompting Leon to swiftly pack his belongings and drive home to his darling wife. Just as he finally zips his laptop sleeve, his coworker Patrick leans on his cubicle and starts talking.

“Got any plans?” A loaded question.

“Yeah,” he says as he locks his drawer. “Stayin’ home with the missus and watching TV.”

“Me and the others are going out for drinks tonight. It’s been a week and I think we all deserve to unwind, no?”

“Mhm,” Leon hums absent-mindedly as he makes sure that there’s nothing plugged on his desk.

“C’mon, man. A drink or two with us won’t hurt, we’ll be at a bar a few minutes away from here. Drinks are on Miller and Ronson,” Patrick adds. Leon hasn’t touched a glass of alcohol in months, his previous alcohol issue and current sobriety progress kept secret amongst his most trusted circle. Patrick, and the rest of the agency, is oblivious to his relationship with alcohol.

“Thanks for the offer but I’ll definitely pass,” the seasoned agent coolly says as he slings his bag over his shoulder. “Bars aren’t really my scene.”

The curly-haired agent’s shoulders slumped but he took Leon’s answer, gaze trailing after him as he neared the door.

“If you’ll be in here a little longer, don’t forget to shut the lights on your way out.”

Patrick’s back straightens up and nods, following after Leon since he doesn’t have any business to do in the room now that Leon’s made his mind on heading straight to home.

─────────────────────────────────────────────────────

The ringing of the doorbell shifts your attention from laying out skincare materials on the kitchen island, face masks and other sheets cool from being kept in the fridge. You excitedly skip over to the front door, walking normally on the remaining half of the lap because ever since that test showed positive, you’ve been a lot more susceptible for motion sickness.

“Welcome home sweetie pie,” you greet your husband in a silvery singsong voice as you engulf him in a hug of unmeasurable comfort. He leans into your touch, melting in the middle of your arms as he returns a hug of his own.

“Missed you s’much,” his voice muffled from his face burrowed in the crook of your neck. His arms encircling your frame tightens slightly, wordlessly communicating his yearning for your affectionate touches.

“Tired?” You ask as you pull away from the hug and invite him in, keeping him company by the doorstep as he takes off his coat and shoes.

“Mhm,” he affirms. “Didn’t do anything physical today but y’know, it’s still a pretty draining workday today.”

“A coworker invited me for drinks in town after work hours ended but I declined,” he adds before he could forget. “That could never match up to a night staying in with you.”

“It’s nice that they thought of inviting you. That's progress from everyone aside from Hunnigan being intimidated and too scared to approach you,” you point out. “Anyway, I got a surprise for you!”

One glance at your glowing smile and infectious elation soothes your husband’s spirit, giving him an added boost of energy. “Yeah? What is it?”

“It’s a surprise for a reason, dummy. Freshen up first and I’ll show you. Close your eyes when you pass by the kitchen!”

“Gotta hold my hand first, I might bump into something and seriously concuss myself.”

“Leon we’ve lived in this house for 4 years, you know the layout like the back of your hand.” Despite that, you still take his hand and lead him.

He’s finally freshened up, now wearing a worn-out sleep shirt paired with Batman pajama bottoms. His head rests on your lap, your fingers idly playing with his silky soft tresses as you watch one of those corny reality TV shows about finding love on boats– or tropical cruise getaways, you corrected him moments ago; he makes more than enough money to spoil you to a tropical cruise so he makes a mental note to start some research while you’re asleep. His hair is kept away from his face by a fuzzy Mike Wazowski headband, matching with your own fuzzy Sully headband as chilled face masks rest on your faces. There’s sliced cucumbers resting on his eyes and a jelly lip mask on his already-perfect lips, challenging his resolve to stay awake and listen to you rant about Basic White Man with A Beard and A Tan #3’s stupid decision. Playing with his hair is tempting him to fall asleep but carefully scratching his scalp while you’re at it? It’s like you’re commanding him to drift off to Dreamland ASAP.

“Man, I love my wife,” Leon quietly murmurs to himself before he’s out cold, snoring deeply. Despite your yapping, you didn’t miss his words and blush to yourself. He must’ve had a truly exhausting day so you lay a blanket over his sleeping frame and turn the TV off.

“Hey, do you know what ‘mama a girl behind you’ means? I’ve been hearing it from my trainees all day.”

NOTES - yipee, first di!leon fic in... 7 months :0 ?!?!?! this fic is pretty much just stream of consciousness, i wrote the fic + formatted the post while listening to ASMR and actively fighting off sleep (it's quarter to 4AM in my area uyurhgrh). i kept repeating 'mama a girl behind YOU 💜' in my head randomly so i was like "hey yk what why not add that into my fic heehee so silly :D" and thus this fic was conceived. also guys i read on twitter that re9 takes place 4 years after re:village and since leon's there... we're going to see his chronological appearance which also means he'll look old... mmm yummy :3 and he's dripped out similarly to re:damnation... mmm yummy :3 also my nail is peeling off so imma have to lay off of nail polish for a bit aw :'( anyways, thank you to everyone supporting me and reading my fics!!!!!!!! I <3333333333 UUUUUUUUUUUU!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

The dividers (hearts and support banner) are made by @cafekitsune , the images are made by me (sourced from Pinterest).

[i-like-loserz]

my sleepy boyfriend

synopsis: mingi is kind of obsessed with you. even (especially) when he's sleepy...

pairing: needy!mingi x reader

warnings: SMUT (18+), needy boyfriend!mingi, less subby -- more desperate, consensual somnophilia, man-handling, unprotected sex, slight nipple play, mating press!, breeding kink (as always), size kink (its mingi hello), creampie, not proof-read, i think it's cute!

word count: 1.6k

note: please read the warnings! if you don't like them, just don't read it lol

masterlist

Mingi is adorably pathetic. 

He’s a perverted loverboy — ready to whine and beg for your touch at any moment. 

And he’s well aware that you’d never deny him. 

But how could you when he looks at you with his slick, bitten lips, fluffy hair, and an aching boner pressing desperately against his sweats?

It's even more delicious when he's tired, exhausted to the bone. Because even unconscious, his body is hungry for you. 

Without his apprehensive habits holding him back, Mingi is eager to take anything you can give him. Several nights you've woken to him getting off against your body, grinding himself against your thigh.

He makes such a mess against your pajamas and even after cumming several times, he’s begging to finish inside of you. 

In the beginning, he’d whisper frantic apologies, immediately retrieving a towel to clean you up with an embarrassed flush on his cheeks. 

But then he became more depraved. 

Waking up from a wet dream soon leads to him using your body to satiate the desperate need that’s been building inside of him all night. 

How could he resist you, though? Especially when you’ve expressed how much you like to wake up to him inside of you. 

Still, he feels like a pervert when he stares down at your helpless form as you sleep soundly next to him. That doesn’t stop him, of course.

He bites his bottom lip to keep himself quiet as his hands run down your body, making sure to feel every inch of your clothed skin. 

It’s a warmer night so you’re wearing a cute floral tank top that sticks perfectly to the shape of your body. The material is so thin that he can barely make out the pretty shape of your nipples. Mingi is sure that he’s never wanted to lick over your body more than now. 

His light touch lazily glides along the length of your chest before dipping into the loose elastic of your tank top. A deep, breathy groan rumbles in his chest as his hand splays over your bare tit, loving how perfectly it fits in his grasp. 

He gently squeezes at your flesh, massaging with an eager touch before moving downwards to lovingly rub circles around your rapidly hardening nub. He takes his time teasing and flicking your sensitive skin, enjoying the way you sigh prettily under him, unknowingly enjoying his attention.

He leans over you, admiring the perfect contours of your face. Every time he looks at you, he’s reminded of how obsessed he is with every one of your features.

Your beautiful eyes, your cute nose, your delicate lips, the whole shape of your face – features he wants to see reflected in his children. 

Mingi dips in closer, taking in the sweet scent of your soft skin before gently burying his face against your neck. He presses a few wet kisses against your heated skin before releasing his hold on you. He wants more.

You opted to sleep in some lace-trimmed cotton panties, sporting an innocent bow right in the middle. Your thighs are deliciously bare and it’s been tempting him terribly all night.

His large hand traces the edge of the waistband before moving to press delicately against your covered clit. His dark eyes dart to your face as you inhale sharply, your body shivering at the light caress. 

Mingi eagerly drinks in the way your brows cinch together from the sudden bout of pleasure. He relishes making you feel as needy for his touch as he is for yours. Even if it’s but a fraction of his desperation. 

He can barely hold himself back from diving in, but he wants to feel your pretty eyes on him. 

He needs you to touch him back. 

“Baby…” His hand drags slowly over your core to the side of your thigh, pulling it up to wrap around his waist. He holds you there, pressing his hips against yours to make you feel how desperately hard he is for you. “Wake up.”

He nudges your cheek gently with the tip of his nose. 

Your eyes flutter open at his sweet, pleading tone, arms automatically moving up to wrap over his neck. You blink away your sleep to see your blushing boyfriend over you, eagerly waiting for you to say something. 

“Mingi...” You sigh, pulling him closer to nuzzle against the warmth of his neck. He smells so good. Cozy and masculine. You just want to bury yourself against him and stay there forever.  

You let out a breathy moan as Mingi presses down harder against you -- suddenly feeling bold by the soft way you said his name.

You gently run your nails down the back of his head, pulling a sweet shudder from his pouty lips. You can feel him throbbing under his boxers

“Been so patient for me, haven't you?" You coo, dotting soft kisses all over his neck and jaw.

"Didn't wanna wake you..." He mumbles, "But it hurts." He flexes his hips to rub himself against you, already panting from the feeling of your warm body against him.

"My poor baby." You grind up against him, meeting his every thrust, already drenching your underwear from how badly you want him inside of you. "Don't worry I'll help you."

"Mmph...Can I just--" He pulls away for a moment and shoves a hand between your bodies, pushing your tank top over your tits before moving downwards, a starved look on his face as he stares down at the translucent fabric sticking against your pussy.

Mingi pulls away for a moment to reposition you, large hands pushing your legs until the top of your thighs press against your heaving chest.

A mating press. It's one of his favorite positions.

You're tighter, closer, and louder like this.

Without hesitation, he shoves your underwear to the side, revealing your dripping center. Even in the dark, he can see the glistening wetness spilling out of your entrance.

"Ming--!" You gasp at his forwardness.

"S-so...p-pretty." He uses one large hand to hold your legs as he quickly pulls himself out of his boxers, already desperately stroking himself at the sight under him.

Your hands fist against your pillow as he slides his cock over your wet entrance, pressing ever so slightly against your dripping hole. He groans when he feels you flutter against him, so ready to be filled by his cock.

"F-fuck, I don't think I can hold back--"

Your legs rest weakly over his shoulders as he presses close to you, thighs shaking as they're pressed between your hot torsos. His head is bowed down to watch himself press into you, not stopping until he's balls deep inside of you. 

You can tell by the way his body trembles that he's trying his hardest to be gentle -- but once he feels the tight heat of your pussy wrapped around him, he's lost to the heady pleasure that spreads throughout his body.

You flutter around him uncontrollably, eyes rolled to the back of your head at the intensity of being stretched so deliciously, so quickly. It's a familiar feeling that never ceases to have you seeing stars, no matter how often he fucks you.

“Uh-!” A sharp cry is forced out of your throat as his hips shakily pull away from you before immediately snapping back, shoving his cock impossibly deep inside of you.

It sets off a spark in your core as he continues to expertly fuck right against your g-spot, overwhelming your senses with blinding ecstasy.

"M'sorry," He pants against your ear, "I c-can't help it."

He starts to thrust shallowly, desperate, pressing himself flush against you with every fevered move, as if he can’t stand being even a centimeter away from you.

You can feel your wetness make a mess in between your bodies, painting over the back of your thighs and dripping onto the sheets.

"N-Needed this --" He chokes out, "Needed you."

"Use me." His cock throbs inside of you, heightening the way he prods against the deepest part of you. "Fuck your cum inside of me, Ming." His thrusts grow harsher, sloppier as his hands pin your body against the mattress, forcing you to take every inch of him.

"Y-yes, fuck-!"

His eyes are squeezed shut as he uses you to fuck himself dry. You reach your orgasm at the same time, clenching tightly around him with a whine as he trembles against you, spilling his hot cum inside of you until you're filled to the brim. 

You’re both panting, skin hot and sticky as you separate. The ecstasy fizzles out and is replaced by a drowsy haze. As you start to come back to reality, you feel the soreness blooming in your legs. You groan under Mingi, weakly pushing against him to get some relief. 

Waking up himself, he instantly releases his hold on you, worried eyes scanning over your face and body.

“You okay? Did I go too hard?” You stretch out your limbs with a soft groan and smile weakly up at him. 

"I'm amazing, baby." Your thighs rub together, feeling the tackiness from your combined slick, "A bit sticky though..."

His hair is a mess, sticking up in different directions, his body is all flushed and his lap is…a hot mess. You can’t help but stare up at him with adoration, enamored by how perfectly messy your boyfriend looks after fucking you into the bed. 

“You’re so cute, Mingi.”

“Huh?” He tilts his head like a confused little puppy.

You shake your head, refusing to elaborate.

Instead you lean back against the headboard and make grabby hands up at him, “Come here, baby, let’s cuddle.”

“...But we’re all sticky.”

“Mingi.”

“Ok.”

[caitified]

Hihi really love your fics. Its my first ask haha. Was maybe thinking if you could do a fic of CC and a teammate, teammate can be either a rookie/vet but is kinda cold to CC (really just kinda awkward with new people). When CC gets shoved roughly on court, reader gets all up in the opps face and protects CC and their relationship deepens from there?

Thank you!

rookie season

caitlin clark x reader

warnings:none, i got carried away so you’re getting their entire backstory sorry 🙊

the first time you and caitlin clark really crossed paths was in the championship game during your senior year at lsu. she was the face of iowa basketball, and you could tell from the moment you saw her on the court that she had something special. she was confident, fierce, and competitive—just like you. but in the end, your team pulled ahead, winning the title in front of a packed crowd.

as the final buzzer sounded, you couldn’t help but catch her eye. there was a mutual respect, but there was also that playful rivalry. on the court, you were opponents, but off it, you could tell you had a little bit of a thing for each other. you knew that fire in her eyes. it mirrored your own.

after the game, you shot her a quick text. “close, but not close enough. see you soon clark,” you wrote, the taunting light in your words meant to sting just a little. but it was all in good fun.

caitlin stared at the message for a long time, a frown tugging at her lips. she was already upset about the loss, but this—this was a challenge, and she couldn’t ignore it. she hated losing, but she hated being underestimated more. her fingers hovered over the screen for a few seconds before typing out a response. “i’ll get you next time. count on it.”

the rivalry continued through the years, even as you went your separate ways. after graduation, you entered the wnba, getting drafted to the indiana fever, and had an incredible rookie season. caitlin, meanwhile, went on to dominate her final year at iowa. but despite her skill and talent, she couldn’t overcome south carolina in the national championship. when she lost, you couldn’t resist—sending her a cheeky text. “looks like you came up short again. better luck next time.”

you expected her to get a laugh out of it. it was playful, just like before. but caitlin’s reaction wasn’t what you expected. she stared at the message, hurt more than she’d care to admit. the loss had stung, and your words felt like salt in the wound. still, she didn’t reply. she couldn’t. not yet.

then came the 2024 wnba draft. when caitlin’s name was called and the indiana fever picked her, now you were on the same team. and things only got more awkward from there.

every time caitlin interacted with other players, like katie lou or aliyah, she noticed something. you were always friendly, always smiling, always making an effort to bond with them. it was easy. natural. but with her, it was different. you barely spoke to her beyond the bare minimum, and every time she tried to start a conversation, you gave short, one-word responses. it confused her.

“why doesn’t she like me?” caitlin thought, watching you laugh with katie lou as the team played cards in the lounge after practice. “i don’t get it.”

every time you teased or joked around with your other teammates, caitlin felt the sting of your coldness. it was like she was invisible to you, even though you were teammates now. it made her question herself. was it because she lost that championship? because of how things had gone down in college? did you still think of her as just an opponent? the thought ate at her.

then came the game against one of the toughest teams in the league. caitlin had been getting pushed around, more than once, and the tension on the court was palpable. you could see her jaw clench, her shoulders stiffen. when the opposing player—a notoriously aggressive forward—got in caitlin’s face, pushing her and swearing, caitlin didn’t back down. but it was obvious she was starting to lose control.

you didn’t even think about it. you just reacted. before anyone could stop you, you were between them, your body protecting hers. you stood tall, staring the other player down, your voice cold but firm. “you don’t get to do that to her,” you said, the words leaving no room for argument.

caitlin stood behind you, a mixture of shock and gratitude on her face. she didn’t expect you to step in. she’d always been the one to fight her battles, but something in the way you had defended her made her heart race. it was different. personal. and for the first time, she realized just how much she needed that support from you.

after the game, when everything had calmed down, caitlin found herself alone in the locker room, her thoughts swirling. she hadn’t expected you to protect her like that. it made her feel something deep, something she couldn’t put into words. and she wanted to know more. wanted to understand why you acted the way you did around her, why you kept your distance.

you were sitting by your locker, wiping down your sneakers when she walked up to you. the silence between you two was thick.

“why didn’t you say anything before?” caitlin asked, her voice soft but edged with curiosity. “you’ve been so… cold with me. i don’t get it. i mean, you’re nice to everyone else, but with me… you act like i’m invisible. i just wanted to know why.”

you looked up at her, meeting her eyes for the first time with something softer in your gaze. the rivalry between you two wasn’t there anymore. not really. “i didn’t know how to be around you,” you admitted, your voice quieter than you intended. “in college, you were the one i had to beat. and then you got drafted here, and… it felt weird. like i didn’t know how to treat you.”

caitlin blinked, processing your words. “you didn’t know how to treat me?” she repeated, her voice catching slightly. she had hoped for something else, but hearing you say it made her understand. maybe she had been too focused on trying to prove herself to you. “so, you’re not… mad at me?” she asked, her heart pounding in her chest.

“no,” you said with a small smile. “not mad. just… confused. i didn’t know if we could be something else after everything. i guess i wasn’t ready to let go of the rivalry.”

caitlin let out a breath she didn’t know she was holding, her shoulders relaxing. she smiled, a genuine one this time. “maybe it’s time we let it go.”

from that moment on, things changed. you and caitlin started to talk more, really talk. you found common ground, sharing laughs, teasing each other, and slowly, the barriers you had built up started to crumble. the more you got to know her, the more you realized there was more to her than the fiery competitor you once knew. and maybe there was a lot more between you two than you had ever expected.

not me lying and saying i was gonna post a few days ago. i’m so sorry i’ve been so busy. enjoy. REQUESTS R OPEN

part two? let me know

[starksweasley]

Worth It // James Potter

Summary: Your older brother Remus catches you making out with his best friend

Word Count: 1095

It was late, the Gryffindor common room bathed in the warm glow of flickering firelight. The evening had stretched into a quiet lull, the perfect backdrop for studying. You were tucked into the far corner, books and parchment spread out around you, determined to get through your Potions notes. Across from you, James Potter sat with a Transfiguration text open on his lap, though his eyes hadn’t touched it for the past twenty minutes.

He was staring at you. Again.

“James,” you whispered sharply, glancing up just in time to catch the boyish grin that spread across his face. His hazel eyes sparkled with mischief, but there was a softness to them too, something that made your cheeks flush. “Focus. You’re supposed to be studying.”

“I am focusing,” he countered smoothly, leaning forward to rest his chin in his hand, the picture of mischief. “Just not on Transfiguration.”

You rolled your eyes, fighting the smile threatening to break across your face, and buried your nose back in your notes. Ignoring James was a skill you were still trying to master—and failing miserably at. Two weeks. That’s how long you’d been secretly dating James Potter. And in those two weeks, you’d come to realize two things: first, James was impossible to resist. Second, your brother Remus was terrifyingly protective, and if he caught wind of this, well… you’d rather not find out what would happen.

James’s chair creaked as he leaned back, the sound pulling your attention despite your better judgment. His hair was an unruly mess, as always, and his tie hung loosely around his neck. He’d already shrugged off his robes, leaving him in his shirt and jumper, the sleeves pushed up to reveal his forearms. You swallowed hard and looked back down at your notes, but the words blurred together.

“Moony’s not even here,” James said suddenly, his voice breaking the quiet. He pushed his chair back, sliding it closer to yours with a deliberate scrape. “And Sirius went with him. It’s just us. No one to tattle.”

You glanced around the room. It was nearly empty, a trio of first-years dozing by the fire and two seventh-years huddled in a corner. Still, your heart pounded at the thought of someone catching you. “It’s not about tattling,” you muttered, shoving at his chair with your foot. “It’s about… appearances.”

“Love,” he said softly, leaning closer, his voice dipping in that way that made your knees weak even when you were sitting down. “We’re studying. That’s innocent, isn’t it?”

His proximity sent a shiver down your spine, and you found yourself unable to respond. Before you could gather your thoughts, he reached out and gently tucked a loose strand of hair behind your ear, his fingers brushing against your skin. The corner of his mouth quirked upward at the way you froze, caught between shoving him away and pulling him closer.

“Jamie,” you hissed, though there was no real heat behind it.

“Remus isn’t here,” he repeated, his voice full of teasing promise. “And I miss you.”

The warmth in his voice melted your resolve, and for a moment, the world outside the circle of firelight didn’t matter. You studied his face, the freckles scattered across his nose, the way his lashes framed those golden eyes, the faint smirk playing on his lips. His hand lingered near your cheek, and when he tilted his head slightly, your heart stuttered.

“You’re impossible,” you murmured, shaking your head. But there was a smile in your voice, and you knew he heard it.

“And yet, here I am.” His hand moved to your chin, tilting it gently until your eyes met his. The fire crackled in the background, but all you could hear was the steady rhythm of your own heartbeat.

“James,” you whispered again, but this time, it was softer, your voice betraying the battle you were losing.

The next time he leaned in, you didn’t stop him. Instead, you shoved your books aside with a dramatic sigh and, to his visible surprise, launched yourself onto his lap. James let out a startled laugh, his arms instinctively wrapping around you as your lips found his in a kiss that wiped the smug grin right off his face. The kiss was warm, slow, and entirely consuming. His hands traced gentle patterns on your back, pulling you closer as if he couldn’t bear the thought of letting you go.

“You win,” you murmured against his mouth, feeling his chest rumble with laughter as his hands tightened around your waist.

“Oh, I definitely win,” he agreed, his voice low and full of affection.

The moment was perfect. It was warm and quiet and—

The portrait hole slammed open.

“What the bloody—” Sirius Black’s voice rang out, loud and incredulous.

You and James pulled apart so fast you nearly toppled to the floor, but James’s hands steadied you just as Remus' eyes landed on you. His expression twisted from confusion to realization to fury in the span of a heartbeat.

“You…” Remus pointed a finger at James, who immediately shrank back, his cocky demeanor vanishing. “You bloody prat! That’s my sister!”

“Moony, wait—” James began, scrambling out of his chair and nearly tripping over his own feet.

But Remus was already on the move, rounding the sofa with a speed that could only be described as wolfish. James bolted, darting around the furniture, a panicked grin plastered on his face as Sirius leaned against the wall, laughing so hard he could barely breathe.

“She started it!” James shouted over his shoulder, making the mistake of glancing back. Remus lunged, but James dove over the back of the couch, narrowly avoiding him.

“You absolute coward!” you called, half-amused, half-mortified as you hurried to gather your scattered books.

“I’ll show you coward!” Remus yelled, vaulting over the armrest in pursuit. James let out a yelp and ducked behind Sirius, who was now doubled over with laughter.

“Remus, mate,” James tried again, his hands up in mock surrender. “I swear, it’s…” He faltered, glancing at you, his eyes full of pleading. “It’s not what it looks like?”

Remus growled, an actual growl, and James bolted for the stairs.

You couldn’t help it. You burst out laughing, sinking into the nearest armchair as Sirius wiped tears from his eyes.

“I’ll give him a five-second head start,” Remus muttered, shooting you a sharp look that only made you laugh harder. “Then we’re having words, both of you.”

“Worth it,” James called faintly from somewhere up the stairs.

And despite everything, you couldn’t help but agree.

[itsnesss]

hii, i already love your works sm and i was wondering if i could request a jun-ho fic where him and fem!reader search his brother and they can’t keep their hands off of each other? ;) and one day after reader teases jun-ho too much he just fucks her into the bathroom? i’m so sorry if that sounded weird 😭

love ya <333

𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐫𝐨𝐥 | hwang jun-ho × fem!reader

summary | the request

warnings | smut, explicit content, tension-filled interactions, fingering, p in v, unprotected sex, slight power dynamics

word count | 2.5 k

author's note | it would help me a lot if you liked, commented and reposted so that more people read what I write and don't forget to follow me thanks ᡣ𐭩

The search for his brother has become more than a mission. It has stopped being just a matter of finding him. Every minute by his side, every stolen glance, every shared sigh... makes you forget everything else. The obsession with finding him has given way to a palpable tension between you and Jun-ho. At every corner, every place where they stop, their hands meet by accident, their bodies brush against each other as if it were inevitable. As if there were something beyond the search, something you can't control.

On one of those long and frustrating nights. They had followed a lead about Jun-ho's brother that had taken them to a small town, but the contact never showed up. They ended up in a rundown motel, sharing a room because the budget couldn't stretch any further.

You had tried to sleep, but between the noise of the old fan and the feeling of Jun-ho just a couple of meters away, it was impossible. He was sitting on the edge of the bed, reviewing some papers under the dim light of the bedside lamp, frowning as always.

"You should rest," you said from your bed, your voice heavy with sleep and annoyance. Keep staring at it won't make your brother magically appear.

Jun-ho looked up, clearly irritated, but also a bit tired.

"I can't".

You got up, leaning against the headboard of the bed, crossing your arms.

"You're such a stubborn one, you know?" you joked, although there was some truth in your words. "You always want to carry everything on your own".

"And you always have something to say, don't you?" he replied, his tone sharp but without real anger.

The conversation continued for a while, small jibes that gradually eased the day's tension. But as they talked, the atmosphere changed. There was something different in the way he looked at you that night, something beyond fatigue or worry.

When you stood up to approach his side, intending to snatch the papers from his hands to force him to rest, his fingers brushed against yours. It was a brief, accidental contact, but the heat it generated made both of them freeze, looking at each other in silence.

"What?" you asked, your voice softer, almost a whisper.

He didn't respond. Instead, he set the papers aside and leaned towards you. The moment was so unexpected that you didn't have time to think. His lips met yours, soft at first, as if he were tasting something he had longed for too long. But the kiss soon became more intense, more needy.

His hands moved up your arms, then to your waist, pulling you closer. You didn't resist. On the contrary, your fingers tangled in his hair as the heat in your chest intensified. You were kneeling in front of him, and you felt his heavy breath against your lips when they barely separated for a moment.

"This isn't right," he murmured, though he made no effort to move away.

"Then stop doing it," you replied, challenging him, and kissed him again, losing yourself in the way his body molded to yours.

That night didn't go beyond that. Although his hands roamed your back, your legs, and his lips left a burning trail on your neck, both stopped before crossing a line they knew would complicate everything. But after that, nothing was ever the same again. The casual touches felt more charged, the glances lingered too long, and the desire between you kept growing.

Jun-ho has never been so straightforward, but you know he is as caught up in this tightrope as you are. The nights spent reviewing clues become an excuse to be close, too close, as the hours fade away and the only thing left between you is unresolved desire.

Today is no different. You are in his apartment, a room cluttered with the mountains of papers they have accumulated during the search, and a constant feeling of discomfort that neither of you can ignore. The brush of his hands as he hands you a cup of coffee, the gentle touch of his fingers as he passes you a photo... everything feels magnified.

"What?" Jun-ho asks, raising an eyebrow when you stare for a second longer than necessary. As if you were evaluating every detail of him, every little gesture that only intensifies what you already know.

"Nothing". You shrug, but the mocking smile that forms on your lips says the exact opposite. There's something about him that makes you feel... powerful. As if you could play with him, put him to the test.

"Don't look at me like that."His voice is deeper than it should be, and his gaze darkens, as if he were waiting for one more provocation. And you know it. You know you did it on purpose.

You've seen him hesitate before, his self-control always on the edge, but this time, you can't help it. You know that what is happening between you is more than just a simple attraction. It's a whirlwind of emotions, of confusion, and above all, of something neither of you can ignore.

You don't stop, and neither does he. The tension remains constant, growing as time passes. The brush of his body near yours while you search for more clues sends shivers down your spine, but you can't pull away. You can't stop looking for an excuse to be near him.

Jun-ho walks back and forth, reviewing papers and murmuring something about clues and possible locations. You see him so serious, so engrossed in his detective role, that you can't resist making a comment to annoy him.

"Are you always this intense?" you ask, resting your chin on your hand.

He stops and glances at you sideways, bewildered.

"What do you mean?"

You smile, innocent but with a touch of mischief.

You know, all that frowning, the rigid posture, the constant "I'm solving an important case" face. I wonder if you ever relax... or if you look the same when you're, you know, at other times.

The insinuation in your voice is impossible to ignore. His eyes narrow, and you see his jaw tighten.

"In other times?" he repeats, clearly caught between confusion and challenge.

You shrug, feigning innocence.

"You know, more... private moments. Are you just as intense or do you follow a whole procedure?"

His reaction is immediate. He leaves the papers on the table and walks towards you with determined steps. Before you can get up, he leans over you, his hands resting on either side of your body.

"Do you want to find out?"

You are left speechless, but he doesn't give you time to respond. In a swift motion, he grabs your wrist and takes you to the bathroom.

The feeling of having him so close, his body pressed against yours, gives you goosebumps. The desire you had contained for so long bursts forth in a wave of need.

"Is this private?" he asks, his lips brushing against yours as he unbuttons his shirt.

"Yes," you affirm, your breath quickening.

"Well". He smiles, his eyes shining with a predatory glint. "So yes, I am just as intense at other times... even more so".

And with those words, his mouth meets yours in a passionate kiss. His hands glide over your body, exploring every part of you, while yours cling to his shoulders with need. The bathroom fills with our sounds, with gasps and sighs as we lose ourselves in this long-repressed need.

"Take off your shirt," he whispers in your ear, his warm breath on your skin, and you obey without thinking. It slides off your shoulders and falls to the ground, and before you can speak, your fingers sink into his hair and you pull him towards you again.

"Is this what you wanted?" he gasps on your lips, his fingers climbing up your ribs and rubbing your skin in circular motions.

You stop. The question makes something change in you. It's as if a veil has been lifted, and everything suddenly became clear.

"I want more," you reply, sincere, not caring that he notices what you feel. I want to feel you. I want to make you moan. I want you to be unable to pull away from me.

And his eyes shine. Her gaze turns dark, predatory, and her lips curve into a smile.

"Wow… that's interesting". He nods, his fingers caressing your lips. "Fortunately, I can fulfill your wishes".

And before you can respond, his fingers slide over your pants. The sound of the zipper opening is loud in the silence of the bathroom, and you barely have time to process it before his hands grab your thighs and sit you on the edge of the sink.

"Strip," he orders, his eyes shifting to your pants, and you don't hesitate to obey.

You remove them immediately, and your underwear slips off with them, revealing your naked body. His eyes roam over every part of you, as if it were the first time he sees you, and his breath quickens suddenly.

"You look beautiful" he gasps, his voice deeper now, filled with need. "So beautiful..."

And again, his lips meet yours in a wild, hungry kiss. His hand moves up your thigh and grabs your leg, pressing it against his waist.

"Do you like it?" he whispers, his hand rubbing you. "Do you like what I'm doing to you?"

You nod, and his smile curves again. His fingers touch you in a way that makes your feet go cold and you tense up.

"That's interesting" he pants. "I think I'm going to need a bit more information".

And with his words, a finger begins to penetrate you. The movement is slow, as if he is unsure, but soon, his fingers begin to move in circular motions, penetrating you again and again, and you curl up, wrapping your legs around his fingers.

"Is this better?" she asks, her voice tense with desire.

"Mmm" you respond with a gasp, your fingers gripping his shoulders.

"Mmm what?"

"Yes…" you manage to say, your breath now more rapid. The pleasure is intense, it makes every part of you tense in an exquisite way. "Continue".

And he does it, his finger moving faster and deeper each time. His lips slide down to your nipples and he begins to suck on them, drawing them in with slow movements. The pleasure makes you arch towards him, trying for more, but his hand suddenly stops.

"Is that what you want?" he whispers. Do you want me to touch you?

"Yes, please" you gasp, pleading. "Don't stop..."

And his hand starts to move again. This time it is two fingers that penetrate you, slowly, but increasingly intensely. You arch towards him, with a cry of pleasure.

"And this?" Jun-ho whispers. Do you want more?

"Yes" you manage to respond, every part of you vibrating with pleasure. "Please".

"Please?" he repeats. I like that.

His fingers stop again, but before you can protest, his body shifts position, lowering slowly, and his mouth meets your sex. His lips begin to suck you, licking every part of you with slow, exquisite movements. Your body arches towards him again, trying more, and his fingers penetrate you once more.

The sensation is indescribable. The pressure inside you, the heat in your breasts, the sensation of his lips on you... everything comes together in an intense, exquisite pleasure.

"Jun-ho" you sob, your fingers sinking into his hair. "Jun-ho!"

"What?" he whispers, his eyes fixed on you.

"More... more..." you manage to stammer, trying to describe the pleasure.

And his mouth fills you up again. His lips suck you with strong movements, his fingers penetrating you faster and faster. Your body shakes with pleasure, but his mouth doesn't stop. He sucks you with frantic movements, devours you with the hunger of a man who hasn't eaten in days. His fingers caress you, touch you in the most exquisite way, and suddenly, the pleasure is overwhelming.

"Oh, god!" you moan, your fingers tugging at his hair. "Yes... yes..."

And everything fades away. The pleasure bursts into an intense orgasm, making you arch against his fingers. Your body shakes back and forth, trying to rid itself of the pleasure, but his fingers and mouth hold you there, not letting you go.

Finally, the orgasm fades, and your body collapses onto the sink. His fingers withdraw, and his mouth kisses you gently. Then, a moment later, his arms wrap around you and lift you, sitting you back on the sink.

"I think you're the best meal I've ever had," he says, his smile mischievous.

You smile too.

"You're not bad either" you tell him.

"No?" He approaches you with slow steps. "Does that mean you might want more?".

You smile at him again.

"It depends". You approach him, wrapping your arms around his waist. "What do you have to offer me?"

"Oh, I think I have something you might find interesting…" He nods, smiling. "Do you want to see it?"

You nod your head, and immediately, his fingers begin to lower his belt. He lowers his pants and lets them fall to the ground. And there it is, his member, erect, strong, ready to penetrate you.

"Do you want to try this?" gasps Jun-ho, his breath already quickened. Do you want to feel me inside you?

You smile mischievously.

"Hmm…" you respond. "I don't know, what do you offer me if I try it?"

"If you try it, I promise you'll feel something incredible". His fingers begin to caress your thighs again. "I'm going to make you feel things you've never imagined".

"Hmm…" you whisper. "Well, then it seems fine to me. I'm going to give it a try".

And immediately, you get up from the sink and approach Jun-ho. His arms close around you and push you against the bathroom wall. His eyes fixate on you, shining with intense desire as he leans against you, his member brushing against your core.

"Do you want?" he whispers.

"Yes".You nod your head. "I want!"

And her hips move forward. His member penetrates you in a gentle yet intense manner. The contact is exquisite, making you sigh with pleasure and fall into his arms.

"Is that okay?" she gasps between breaths.

"Hmm... yes" you murmur, your fingers encircling his shoulders. "Continue..."

And his hips begin to move again. His member penetrates you harder, deeper, and with each movement, the pleasure within you grows. His fingers grip your legs, lifting them towards his waist for easier access, and you let yourself go, trying to absorb all the pleasure you can.

"Do you like this?" he whispers again, his breath quickening more and more. Do you like how I touch you?

"Yes... yes..." you murmur, your breathing also becoming increasingly rapid.

"Well —he gasps with a sigh." Then I'm going to give you more... much more...

Her hips start to move again. This time his member penetrates you harder than before, faster. The pleasure is indescribable, it makes your body tense and contract towards him.

"Oh!" you moan between sighs. "Like this!"

"Like this?" he gasps again. "Do you want it like this?"

"Yes... Yes..." you respond, your fingers gripping it tighter—. Yes!

And he doesn't say anything more. His hips keep moving that way, with quick and deep movements. His arms wrap around you, holding you against him, and your fingers clutch his shoulders. The pleasure is increasingly intense, increasingly unbearable, but his body does not stop.

Finally, his breathing quickens too much, each of his movements becomes increasingly rough, and his member begins to pulse inside you.

"God!" she screams, her breath ragged.

And everything suddenly explodes. His member hardens and begins to release his semen into a hot river. His body shakes back and forth, trying to absorb every sensation, and the pleasure makes you let go with a scream. The orgasm is strong, intense, making your fingers grip him tighter and the walls surround him.

Finally, everything disappears again. Her hips come to a stop, her breathing returns to normal, and her arms relax. Her eyes, however, continue to shine. He approaches you and kisses you on the cheek.

"Was it how you wanted it?" he whispers between your lips.

You smile mischievously again.

"Hmm… I think it was better". You slip out of his arms and start getting dressed. "The thing is, I can't have this whenever I want".

He smiles again.

"That's easy to fix" he says, while also getting dressed. I can give you as much as you want.

"I hope so". And immediately you walk away from him, leaving the bathroom without waiting to see his reaction.

"Don't worry, you won't have to wait long," you hear his words behind you, and a smile curves your lips.

[ladybirdswritings]

INVISIBLE STRING, AU — clark kent x reader.

DESCRIPTION: you lock eyes with a charming stranger at a party you’d rather not be at, and now he’s finding it hard to resist you. NOTES - leave me all your thoughts and opinions. i love them <33 | prev part ; next part

four;

You had only one partner in your entire life—and Christ knew how awfully that ended. Still, each relationship taught you the same lesson: crying in front of them, especially too quickly, was as cruel as a death sentence.

But here you were, eyes glossy as you fought to suppress every awful, hopeless feeling swelling in your chest, the credits of The Notebook rolling on the screen.

Did that love even exist? Better yet, would you ever find it?

You couldn’t stop the quiver in your pretty, pink lips.

Don’t cry, don’t cry, don’t cry.

“Hey,” Clark called, his laugh breathy, and your shoulders tensed.

You didn’t want to rush this, or push anything further. You weren’t entirely convinced he wasn’t hiding something underneath that perfect façade.

But Clark hadn’t hurt you when he brought you to his apartment. He hadn’t hovered over you when you sat on his dark emerald couch. Quite the opposite, in fact—he’d given you space, letting you curl up in the corner with a blanket, sitting a cushion away to make sure you felt comfortable.

Funnily enough, your mind wandered to how his body had felt in the bookshop just hours before, swaying so close to yours.

Christ…

“I’m fine.” You laughed at yourself, shaking your head, a sniffle escaping as your eyes blinked, letting two tears fall. Clark adjusted his glasses with his wrist, grabbing a tissue from his abstract glass table and offering it to you. You accepted it gratefully.

“Don’t be embarrassed,” he cooed, his voice a deep, soothing balm for the anxiety gnawing at your stomach. “I’ve cried at this film too.”

He was lying, but his words made you laugh, and that was enough for him. He grinned as you wiped your tears away.

“Are you lying to me?” Your watery doe eyes were too pretty a sight—and though Clark prided himself on being a strong man, he grew weak under your gaze.

“Yes,” he admitted, and after a long pause, you both erupted into a fit of laughter—breathless and wiping your eyes when it ended.

Clark sighed long and deep, leaning back against the cushions, gazing lazily at you with one arm resting along the back of the couch, his fingers grazing your shoulder.

“God, you’re pretty.” The words slipped out like a breath, and that ever-present pinch returned to his brows when he realized what he’d said. But when you flushed a soft pink and brought your shy gaze to meet his, he made no effort to take the words back.

A comfortable silence settled between you both. You peered at him through watery lashes, and he gazed at you with a soft smile, as though he was memorizing the delicate features of your face.

“Clark,” you started, and he hummed in response, too busy counting the sparse freckles on your face, tracing constellations in their scattered stars.

“Why’d you ask me out on a date?”

Maybe it was the wine, the gentle breeze flowing through the window, or the way he looked at you—as if he’d known you for a thousand lifetimes. Whatever it was, you couldn’t suppress the question from slipping past your lips.

He shifted, leaning forward, resting his forearms on his knees as he considered your words.

“It’s been a long time since anyone’s interested me,” he said plainly, as if it were the simplest answer in the world. Your curious mind didn’t think that was enough—but before you could push for more, you held back the urge.

He turned his head to you slowly, tilting it with a playful glint.

“Why’d you say yes?” he asked, grinning lazily.

You found yourself flushing pink again as you considered your answer.

Because you look like Adonis.

Because I’d be an idiot to say no.

Because I need to know if you’re a serial killer or not.

“Because you read books.”

Oof.

You winced as the words left your mouth, watching his brows furrow and the grin slowly fade from his lips. You felt the urge to crawl into a hole, but instead, you scooted closer on the couch, tucking your legs underneath you.

“I’m awful with words,” you admitted, voice small.

Clark recovered quickly, masking his brief disappointment with another lazy grin. “But you’re pretty,” he repeated, his gaze softening as he leaned closer to you.

For a moment, time seemed to slow. Your gazes locked, pulling you both closer like magnets.

And then, in a blink, he was there. One arm on your hip, just like earlier. The other gripped the couch as if it was the only thing keeping him tethered to his self-control.

“I’m gonna kiss you,” he whispered.

And though the parts of you scarred by past trauma screamed for you to take it slow, to hold back—

Well.

Fuck it.

You nodded once, and his lips were on yours—soft, slow, and tentative.

One peck, and he pulled back, scanning your eyes for any trace of regret or hesitation. When he found none, he dove in again. Only this time, his glasses bumped your nose.

You winced, and his eyes widened. But then you broke into an amused smile. He mirrored you, a ghost of a laugh playing on his lips as he removed his too-big glasses and set them aside.

“Let me kiss it better, baby,” he whispered, and God, you melted.

Baby.

In that moment, you knew. Even if he eventually broke your heart or turned cruel, you’d still long to hear that word fall from his lips.

Oh, but slowly, he leaned forward again and pressed a soft kiss to where his glasses had bumped your nose. Then another to your cheek, and another, then your eyelids, your chin, your forehead—exploring you, savoring you. He hovered just shy of your lips, his arms warming your skin, his fingers finding a home cupping your cheeks. His thumbs brushed against the apples of them.

“I want to keep kissing you,” he whispered, his voice strained, deeper now. You interrupted him, unknowingly.

“So do it, Clark.”

He inhaled sharply, a strained grin playing at the corners of his lips.

If he were a lesser man…

“If I keep kissing you,” he admitted, his voice low and heated, “I’m going to have a hard time stopping.”

And you swayed in your seat, body humming with anticipation. He pressed soft kisses to your forehead, each one igniting the fire inside you, while your eyes dropped downward.

And then you saw it.

A bulge—strained but undeniable—aching to be released. To be touched.

A very big, demanding bulge.

Maybe his kisses were meant to distract you from it. Or maybe he wanted your innocent little eyes to fall upon it.

Unbeknownst to you, it had started to ache the moment he inhaled your intoxicating scent in the bookshop. One kiss, and it had been pulsing.

You gulped, wide-eyed as his kisses moved to your temples, his lashes tickling your skin.

Maybe it was the way he called you baby, or maybe it was curiosity… or maybe, just maybe, you felt as though you owed him something.

Yes, that was it.

He’d been so kind to you. Wasn’t this your obligation?

It’s certainly what your ex used to believe…

You winced as your shaky hand reached for his denim, slowly grazing the firm bulge, your fingers testing the limits of its tightness.

He tensed, his grip on your face tightening as he leaned back a fraction. Awe glazed your expression as you watched him close his eyes, jaw tight and lips pursed. A guttural moan escaped him, shaking both his chest and yours.

You had to keep going, if only to hear that delectable sound again.

Slowly, your fingers found the zipper, inching lower and lower—until his hand snapped down to capture your wrist.

Mortification spread across your cheeks like wisteria vines.

He stopped you, holding your wrist for a moment, catching his breath before his eyes fluttered open again, scanning your face.

A slow, lazy kiss pressed to your wrist, then two more to your reddened cheeks.

“You had wine,” he whispered against your neck, dipping his head into the crook and licking lazily at your pulse.

He hadn’t let go of your hand—not because he didn’t trust you, but because he didn’t trust himself.

His words took a moment to make sense in your foggy mind, but when they did, relief flooded your tense body. You relaxed against him.

He did want you— he just didn’t want you buzzing from wine.

He wanted you whole, complete, present.

You shivered as he traced his tongue from your throat to the soft place beneath your ear, pressing a final kiss there before pulling back.

His face had changed now.

Gone was the gentle, bookish man who’d kindled a fire both for and in you and let you ramble about books. No, this Clark was different—hungry, staring at the finest ambrosia before him.

Ready to pounce.

"Are you okay?" he murmured, and you realized then you'd been staring at his lips.

You licked your own.

"I'm okay, Clark."

He nodded, and in a swift motion, you were seated in his lap, his bulge pressing against your plump bum. The clothing between you only deepened the pulsing ache.

"You just bite me if I cross a line, okay?" You giggled softly at that, and he only nibbled your ear in response, wrapping two strong arms around you and settling back against the couch.

You had been the most fun he'd had in a while—and damn if he wasn't already dreading the moment when you'd part.

"Can I take you home tonight?” he asked, his voice low and filled with a new intensity that made your breath catch. His hands were gentle on your waist, but the tension in his grip told you that he wasn’t quite as calm as he appeared.

You hesitated for a moment, your mind racing with conflicting thoughts and even stronger feelings. You’d never felt so simultaneously vulnerable and desired. There was something about him—something in the way he treated you with patience and respect—that made your guard slip, just a little. And yet, the fear of getting too close, too quickly, still lurked in the back of your mind.

You swallowed hard, trying to push past the anxiety. This isn’t the same as before, you reminded yourself. It doesn’t have to be.

“I think I’d like that,” you said finally, your voice shaky but sincere. You could feel his grip tighten slightly, as though he was holding his breath.

“Are you sure?” He searched your face, wanting to be absolutely certain that you weren’t just saying yes out of some sense of obligation or fear of disappointing him.

You nodded, and a small smile played at the corners of your lips. “Yeah. I’m sure.”

The air between you two shifted, as if the space around you had contracted and expanded all at once, drawing you closer to him. Clark’s eyes softened, and his smile was tender, almost reverent, as he kissed your forehead once more.

“Okay,” he murmured, his lips brushing against your skin. “C’mon pretty girl.”

He stood up, holding his hand out to you. You took it, allowing him to help you up from the couch, and together, you made your way to the cherrywood door. As you walked out into January’s chill, you found yourself unsurprised when he draped his coat over your shoulders.

As you climbed into the truck, Clark reached over to start the engine, but before he did, he turned to look at you once more, his gaze soft and searching.

“I want you to know ,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper, “this isn’t just a pass of time for me or my pleasure. You’re pretty, and you’re incredibly tempting… but I don’t expect a thing from you. That’s not the man I am.”

He could be lying. As your ex had, as many others had before. Christ, you’d just met him a few weeks ago. Were you to believe his words were truly more than just a ploy to get you comfortable?

One stolen glance into his blue-gray gaze though, and you just knew that could not be true.

Your heart fluttered in your chest, a mix of relief and something else—something deeper, something unfamiliar but present. You smiled softly, your fingers brushing against his hand as he reached for the gear shift.

“I’m not like that either,” you replied, your voice steady and sincere. “But I think you know that.”

He grinned, not needing to say more words as the tension eased from his shoulders and he shifted the car into drive. As you pulled away from the apartment building and into the quiet streets, you weighed each syllable of his words with scrutiny. You thought yourself to be a fool for considering them honest.

But that was okay.

Clark Kent was a man more than determined to prove your pretty little mind wrong…

[steddie-island]

I Want Your Midnights

Written for @steddiebingo Countdown to Midnight Prompts: Five, champagne, clothed sex Rating: E | WC: 832 | Tags: Getting together, first kiss, semi-public sex, declarations of love

ao3 | Divider credit

Five!

"Oh god—"

Four!

"Shhh, gonna get caught—"

Three!

"Don't stop—"

Two!

"Never— never gonna stop—"

One!

"I love you—"

They were never going to hear the end of it. They'd slipped out before the ball dropped because Steve had needed to get some fresh air.

Fresh air had turned into sharing a cigarette, had turned into joking about midnight kisses and plans for the new year. That had felt less like joking, though. Steve had known what Eddie's plans were— get the hell out of dodge, hit the road with the band. They had gigs lined up in bars that would have way more than five drunks to appreciate them.

Eddie's alleged crimes made him a target in Hawkins, but in other cities they were something that could draw in a bigger crowd. At least there was one good thing that had come from their fucked up spring break.

Talking about plans made Steve's throat tighten and his sinuses burn. There were no more monsters to fight now that Vecna was gone. Robin had offers from a dozen colleges. The kids were getting older, they didn't need him to be the goddamn babysitter anymore. They didn't need him hanging around, hovering even worse than their parents. They didn't need him—

Eddie had been right there, stepping into Steve's space and resting a cold hand on the back of his neck, snapping him out of it before he could spiral into a full blown panic attack.

"You're not supposed to look so sad on New Year's Eve, big boy. Hasn't anyone ever told you that?"

The weight of Eddie's hand, the familiar scent of his leather jacket and the champagne on his breath, it was too much for Steve to resist.

He'd grabbed the lapels of Eddie's jacket, pulled him in, kissed him just this side of too hard.

Eddie's hand had tightened around Steve's neck, Steve had wrapped both arms around Eddie's shoulders before deepening the kiss with a swipe of his tongue.

Their first kiss tasted like Joyce's champagne. Their second kiss tasted like the promise of new beginnings, like open doors and futures that were different than what had been imagined but that fit a hell of a lot better.

They pulled apart just before they could get a third kiss in.

"C'mon." Eddie had taken Steve's hand, tugged him towards the steps and away from the house, towards Steve's new truck. It didn't offer as much privacy as Eddie's van would have, but they hadn't managed to get that back from Hawkins PD yet.

Still, it was better than getting caught with their dicks in their hands on the front porch.

"We'll freeze to death," Steve had argued.

Eddie had just shot him a grin, turned the truck on and got the heat going. "Not gonna be out here long enough for that to happen anyway."

Cold fingers fumbled to get their jeans open. Steve's stomach jerked when Eddie ran a hand up under his shirt and up towards his chest.

"Fuck—" Steve arched towards Eddie's body as Eddie worked a nipple between his fingers.

"Can't believe I get to touch Steve Harrington's tits on the first date," Eddie laughed against his mouth.

"Tit— what?" Steve huffed out a laugh that turned into a moan. They could talk about that later, when Eddie wasn't sucking a mark against his throat and when he wasn't trying to get his hand into Eddie's jeans.

"Jesus, how'm I s'posed to get at your dick? Your pants are too fucking tight—"

"Are you really complaining?"

"…No."

They had laughed together until their cocks were free. Then Steve was taking them both in hand, stroking them together.

"Jesus— Steve—"

Steve just nodded, tugged Eddie in to kiss him hungrily.

This wasn't the first time that Steve had imagined for them. There were no pillows, no roses, no soft lighting that would let Steve see all of Eddie's scars.

There were just cold hands, fogged up windows, the sounds that Eddie made as Steve worked them both closer and closer to the edge.

Hearing Eddie gasp his name as he spilled over their fists was better than any New Year's Rockin' Eve could ever hope to be.

It was only after, when they'd cleaned up and Eddie was curled against Steve's chest, that Steve got a look at the clock. He smiled and turned to press a kiss to Eddie's forehead.

"You think '87 is gonna be your year?"

Eddie turned his face towards Steve's neck, to kiss the hickey he'd left behind. "Did you mean it? When you said you loved me?"

Steve looked down at Eddie's face. The interior truck lights were off but the moonlight reflected off of the snow lit everything up with bright light. "Yeah. Of course I meant it."

Eddie kissed his jaw and held him that much tighter, pushing back any thoughts about whether he'd said it too fast, too soon.

"Then I think it already is."

[xazse]

Female!Reader × HybridPuppy!Yuji

The reader produces breast milk , which she expresses and donates to a shelter for small hybrids. HybridPuppy!Yuji often hugs her and presses himself against her chest to inhale the smell of milk, which makes his mouth water and his cock hard. In the end, he can't resist and begs his mistress to let him suck her milk. Or he sneaks into her bedroom at night and drinks her milk while she sleeps.

Instead of Yuji, you can have Satoru if you want to change the character

Notes: I love this so fucking much, I made a few changes I hope you don’t mind and I’m using Satoru btw because I don’t write for minors.

Pairings: PuppyHybrid!Satoru x LactatingFem!Reader

Warnings: I’m sorry but I’m warning ya now this is some nasty shit but a good nasty if ur into this! + Smut + Lactation + hybrids + reader has big boobs + possessive!Satoru + perv!Satoru + porn with plot + notproofread + bathroom sex + I think I spent too much time on plot and not enough porn sorry!

You love visiting the shelter near your house, it’s just a ten minute walk of you enjoying the scenery and speaking to the townspeople, they always greet you with the warmest smiles because they know you, they’ve known you for years.

In fact everyone here knows you: a widowed mother and wife, a mother whose children have been moved on to pursue their own hopes and dreams so in your little warm house it’s just you. You’ve noticed for a while a void in your heart, the loneliness does get to you some days but not today.

Recently a facility had been built, a hybrid facility, at first you hadn’t ever thought those existed because under new law hybrids are allowed to coexist around regular humans, they are to be treated as such it was a long time coming, it hurt your heart to see them being treated as outcasts.

You learned that this facility was for the young, abandoned and on occasion they’d take in adults who still couldn’t find their place.

And in that place you finally found your calling. for some odd reason you and your doctor couldn’t place you were still weirdly lactating, it was exhausting having sore breasts and an endless supply of milk you’d have to pour down the drain: too embarrassed to donate it in fear of being found out in the small town of people.

You awake up with full boobs that needed to be emptied or you’d spend the entire day in pain, pumping the milk was the only way, you’d only have to do it once a day but the sheer amount could keep a baby feed for the entire day.

You’d been talking to one of the workers of the facility and they’d been explaining how the young ones weren’t exactly taking well to the supplied formula milk, “they’d cry constantly” he exclaimed and it broke your heart into pieces the thought of them not eating hurts you, for the very first time you confided in the worker and he didn’t look disgusted not one bit in fact he seemed overjoyed.

“Disgusted? Why would I feel that way? This means the little ones will eat and not throw fits.” When he finishes that sentence a long drawn out sigh leaves his lips. You can’t help the giggle that falls from your lips.

Suguru you learn comes by your house to pick up the supplements and does he have some comments, he had waited a week to see how much you would produce.

“All this?!” You stand in your doorway shyly nodding in his presence, he’s actually appalled you weren’t lying when you said you have a good bit, he shakes the box in his hands and listens carefully, it’s hard for you to watch him do that right in front of you and not get a little flustered.

He thanks you graciously and makes his way back to the facility, you really hope they like it, it was one hell of a week for you. Though the feeling you did something good swarms you with warmth.

After that it was found that they absolutely loved your milk, and you had plenty to give, it was so cute the way Suguru described their reactions and how priceless it was. One little one had whined for more: Yuji was a special character he required a bit more milk since he was malnourished, Suguru couldn’t stop describing how he would not let go of the bottle, his grip was not going to let up easily, he looked so genuinely happy describing his work and how much he enjoys this field.

You break out of your thoughts and make your way to the facility, it’s downright gorgeous garden greeting you before the glass doors, smelling so good greets you just as warmly, you open the door and offer your greetings to the staff, Suguru had told you on the phone that the little ones had been particularly needy and needed some attention, attention they couldn’t provide right at the moment so they called you: they always do.

They’re way more comfortable with you, always asking when you’re coming back and on occasion they’ll beg you to stay a little longer with them, cute little faces decorated in tears to trick you.

Right now you’re relaxing on the mat in the playroom whilst they all run around chasing after one another, Nobara: a little lion hybrid is trying her hardest to doze off on your lap, she can’t with all the loud children playing like it’s their last day ever. You slowly and softly rub her short locs to lull her, it’s working until Yuji: a tiger hybrid ever the energetic thing is crawling to come bother her.

With Megumi: a wolf hybrid, and basically his other half following right behind him quietly.

Nobara seems unphased by the tiger trying to bother her, simply shooing him away so she can get her beauty sleep, that sentence makes you giggle, you continue to watch the threes antics without saying a word, a show with no production is how they act together.

Yuji sees your hands rubbing Nobaras ears and he’s immediately making his way towards your soft fingers, basically forcing you to rub his orange striped ears, this doesn’t make Nobara happy and she tries to shove him away; whining for your attention again.

You know how they get if you aren’t showing them equal parts attention so now both of your hands are preoccupied, Megumi doesn’t seem to mind, simply sitting and watching on.

You hear his voice before you even see him, he’s definitely running through the halls disrupting the staff, he’s yelling your name so loud that you know its Satoru and how eager he is, you know how eager puppy hybrids can be.

When he pops his head into the playroom the brightest smile you think you’ve ever seen, he quickly makes his way over to you ignoring the little growls the babies give him, he’s pushing them aside against your protest and laying in your lap. The grip he has around your waist allows for him to fully envelope himself in your breasts.

“Missed you’s much” he playfully whines.

“You seen me yesterday Toru.”

Satoru lets out a satisfied sigh in the warmth of your boobs, he’s become obsessed with you, and it’s bad he’s had to he reprimanded by Suguru and the other staff multiple times for his possessiveness it’s not his fault though! He can’t control how he feels about you not after that day.

It was when he was feeding Megumi, sometimes as a way to bond Suguru will have Satoru bottle feed them, though he absolutely dreads it, he has to put up with it, all the other adult hybrids are far too hard headed.

He was curious one day, about how the milk had tasted, he found out through Suguru that the formula had been changed to breast milk, it was a slip of the tongue but he himself had also noticed how they whined for more.

He unscrewed the top to the bottle, the little calm Megumi was already drifting off so he wasn’t a problem.

He took a sip, and quickly pulled away: fully expecting it to be the worst thing he’s ever tried: it’s baby food not food meant for him but that feeling on his tongue never came in fact it was actually quite good.

Another sip and another after that; he scarfed the remains of the bottle down with a flushed face, it tassted like- well he couldn’t describe it but he knew he fucking loved it. He found himself sneaking into where it was kept and taking some for himself, it was almost an everyday thing, he knew when Suguru was questioning and bothering him he had to stop but he couldn’t, until he met the source of where the milk was coming from.

He snuggles his face deeper, ignoring and zoning out the loud noises around him, he can smell the milk on your breasts, you recently pumped? Probably this morning to be exact as and all he can think about is how you sat there for hours getting rid of the awful feeling in your sore breasts.

You feel something hard against your leg, you know how Satoru feels about you but this is too much. You’ve already had to tell him in the past that he’s much too young for you and would be better off finding someone who can fit his needs, he insists that he only wants you and doesn’t care about the age difference.

You have yet to bring up these feelings to Suguru though, you can’t bring yourself to say because what if Satoru won’t trust you anymore, it was hard building trust with the man due to his past experiences.

He’s only getting more excited by the minute, his tail moving in slow languid motions.

The way he’s looking up at you is filled with nothing but love and lust, you know that look too well.

You aren’t sure why you’re in a bathroom stall with Toru whilst he feels you up, caressing your boobs, every attempt to tell him to stop dies on your tongue when he rubs a sore area, your breath hitching in your throat when he grinds his hard cock on you.

Such a needy puppy he is, whining under his breath words that you can’t quite decipher especially with how heated you’re getting, your mind getting foggier by the minute as you let Satoru get his fill of you.

He rips apart your blouse and carelessly throws it on the floor, along with your bra next. Your nipples are exposed to the cold air of the facility and Satoru is reveling in it. He paws at your heavy boobs with rough calloused hands that are uncoordinated, squeezing the fat in his hand until he sees what he wants.

The droplets of your milk finally coming to fruition, he licks one nipple and you think you can see him visibly shake with excitement, he filts that nipple in his mouth and suckles, after a good minute he ceases his constant unconscious movements and readily focuses on the sweet milk cascading down his throat.

A moan breaks free from your trembling lips, this feels nothing like the machine you have at home, this feels so fucking good it alone has your cunt throbbing in your panties, the swirling of his tongue and just how content he looks is driving you mad.

You slip into that space that you know is bad for you, your voice is for some reason egging Satoru on, calling him all sorts of names that entice him to suck harder. Your hands don’t listen to you either because you’re rubbing the front of his pants in soft motions.

His whimpers don’t go unnoticed, nor does his swishing tail, such a good boy you tell him, losing all sense of rational he drags you with him to sit on the toilet, you don’t expect the amount of strength he has for being so lanky but he manages it.

He goes right back to sucking on your fat breasts that still replenish his appetite.

You let Satoru strip you of your bottoms and your panties, you let him slip his cock inside of you when you know you shouldn’t, he isn’t big but he fucks constant, always hitting that good spot inside of you based off your reactions.

He looks disheveled and messy, his face red and his mouth dripping with drool and remnants of your milk.

You let him bend you any which way he sees fit in that stall, an overexcited hybrid means it’s going to take a while to exhaust them, though you feel tired after having an orgasm you’ve never experienced he isn’t done, he’s cum multiple times, filled your cunt with his leaky cum he still isn’t done yet.

When he’s got you in his lap leaning on him for support he’s nonstop talking about what you and him will do from here, he talks about how he wants a family of his own and how you’ll be such a perfect mommy to his little ones.

[dottowos]

subire me.

synopsis: It’s your birthday, and your only wish is to have Webttore underneath you. Being the good lover he is, he agrees to your shenanigans just this once (not).

includes: dottore (webttore) w/ fem! reader

notes: Webttore is referred to as Beta. Established relationship, oral (Webby receiving), vaginal sex, creampie, you ride him, dom reader, subby Webby, reader uses no pronouns, MDNI. Gift for my dear bestie <3

You never considered yourself a greedy person. You were always content and grateful for what you had, rarely ever wanting to take more by using force. That however applies to everything besides Il Dottore.

To be fair, it wasn’t like the attitude was unreciprocated. In fact, the man’s way of thinking was what rubbed off on you. If he desired you wholly, why would you feel any different? You were too lovely for him not to take for his own. He was too captivating for you to let go of. If he wanted to see your beautiful side, you should see his too. If he accepted your ugly side, you would take care of his own too. 

If he wanted to wring orgasm after orgasm out of you while you begged for him to slow down, it was only fair that the same should be done to him - which was the reason Beta was now currently underneath you huffing with a grumpy expression.

“Aww, come on love. You agreed to this, did you not?” You chuckled at his defiance, never wanting to be the one submitting to another.

“Only because you were adamant about pestering me the whole time,” he scowled, crossing his arms at your more than pleased expression. You rolled your eyes in amusement, beginning to unbutton your top which quickly got Beta’s attention back on you again.

“You act as if I’m sentencing you to death…” you laughed as your breasts spilled out, and Beta dug his nails deeper into his arm to resist his urges, “You trust me, right? So just let me take care of you… as you do for me,” you hummed, pulling off your bottoms and leaving you in nothing but your underwear.

“An odd request for the one whose birthday it is,” Beta continued to grumble, though his tone lowered at the sight of your bare body. 

“What can I say? You always knew that I’m a little weird,” you smiled as you crawled back and hovered over him, nudging your knee between his leg to which he gritted his teeth, “But let’s focus on you, yeah?” With that, you cupped his cheek and kissed him in an attempt to get him to lighten up, and of course, it worked after a few seconds, his body slackening to your sweetness. You sighed against his lip, working on removing his vest and bowtie while he moved to your whim.

It did feel quite odd not to have his hands roaming about your body, but you think it was more tortuous for him than you judging from the growing hardness near your leg. Well, the whole situation was a bit odd in general, usually Beta would be babbling on about anything and everything - how exquisite you looked taking him, what he’s done to you, what he will do to you… all with sharp teeth on display and a maniac grin. Now, however, he was strangely quiet, teeth grazing his lip with an unreadable expression, but definitely red ears.

"See how badly you want this? I know you could easily stop me if you wanted to, love, I haven't even tied you up this time. But here you are being so good and needy for me..." you sighed as your finger traced along his neck, your other hand placed firmly on his chest.

So cute. Good thing the segments were more organic rather than mechanical. Otherwise, you’d probably have made them short-circuit by now. You eagerly moved on to finally tugging his shirt off, exposing his chest. Ah, you had told yourself you’d have patience, but how could you when the scholar was laid out for you so pliantly like a sweet treat for the taking? You just really wanted him crying for you already.

“So what? Is this what you wanted all along?” The segment sneered, an attempt to fluster you and grasp some semblance of control back. But you only smiled.

“And what if it is? Trying to goad me before I even start isn’t the best idea, Beta.”

“You could see me like this whenever you wanted,” he scoffed.

“Not underneath me,” you clarified, watching with delight as his dismay further increased as you drove home the reality of the situation. “Now, do try to relax a bit. Isn’t that what you always tell me?” You teased as you suddenly began palming his bulge, to which he held back an embarrassing moan with all his might, and you could have laughed at his stubbornness, which was what you predicted, to be honest.

“You don’t want to moan for me that bad? That makes me sad,” you said in false hurt, beginning to kiss his clothed cock, just barely a bit of pleasure that was not nearly enough.

“This is not ‘taking care of me,’” he hissed out in irritation, repeating your exact words. Your torture had his patience running thin, something this segment did not have much of in the first place. Oh, how he wanted you to wrap your lips around him already, his hands firm on your head as he ruthlessly fucked your mouth.

… But here he was, reduced to a mere toy. It was a pitiful state for him to be in, throbbing cock left neglected. Beta’s arm slowly began to ease toward you, hoping to feel you like he’d always had before you caught him with a pout.

“What did I say? No touching unless I let you,” you chided him as you returned his hand to gripping the sheets instead. “Relax… I’m not as cruel as you,” you reasoned as you finally pulled down his pants, making his bulge more prominent. Some relief, but not sweet enough yet. You sighed as you played with the band of his underwear, thinking of all the ways you could toy with him like you toyed with you…

… But for now, your own patience was lacking. It was not a problem though, considering you were sure there’d be more opportunities despite the segment’s scoffs. So with one swift tug, you let his leaking cock free from its confines, rewarded with a held-back sigh of contentment from the scholar.

Dottore’s face was always a pleasure to look at. To see how he’s changed over the years, to see the age that settled in. Beta in particular had always been dashing, although not many people saw him unmasked. Youthful unscarred skin slightly reddened in pleasure, lips quivering for a few seconds before he quickly bit down to prevent any more unbecoming noises. It made you squeeze your own legs together in desire, but you wanted to see him come undone from a bit of teasing for once.

You wrapped your hand around Beta’s cock, giving it an experimental stroke to gauge his reaction. Not much yet, unfortunately. Moving closer to him, you placed a small kiss at the base, and began planting them as you finally reached the tip of his cock. Pre-cum was already dripping out from how long you’ve denied him the warmth of your mouth. You swirled your tongue around his tip before heatedly pressing it elsewhere, making sure to put on a show for him, as he released another groan. 

You admired his self-restraint, however. Alpha would have already been desperately bucking his hips. Still, Beta’s expression was simply exquisite. Eyes looking at you with dismay, as if he himself was surprised by his own actions, and fists clenched so hard, if he was a regular human he’d have drawn blood by now. It was already more than you could have hoped for, but you were excited to stretch the boundary.

Finally, you enveloped your mouth with him, taking as much as you could handle. You could feel him twitch in your mouth, hell, if not for his pride you were sure he wanted to come right there. Slowly, you moved up and down his cock, using your hand to stroke the rest of it. Normally, the segment would be snapping his hips at an inhuman pace seeking his release but to see him have to keep unusually stiff like this was amusing. You didn’t take your eyes off of your lover, his lewd expression motivating you to continue. 

You knew he was close. He was never one to delay his orgasms, too impatient to wait compared to his older selves. And after the delightful performance he put on for you tonight, it felt too mean to deny him, this time at least. You increased your pace, moaning around his cock, the sensation making Beta shudder, and finally he spilled into your mouth. You paused to accommodate the sudden load sprayed into you, dutifully swallowing and slowly pulling away from his cock to catch a breath.

After a brief break, you languidly ran your tongue over him again, cleaning up the mess he made. Beta hadn’t said anything yet aside from his lessening pants.

“Thought you said you wouldn’t enjoy this,” you lazily teased, eyes softening at his blissed-out look.

“Quiet,” Beta demanded, although his voice held no real harshness. It was obvious he was just embarrassed he came that much from submitting to you. “Hurry and finish whatever it is you want to do.” His command, which was more like a plea wrapped up in false dominance, egged you on to finally pull off your soaked underwear. Now, despite being knocked down a peg, Beta still found it mesmerizing to see how wet you were despite having not been touched by him. How he wished to have your slick smeared across his face instead of it being wasted dripping down your lips, but this was what you wished for…

Beta’s previous demeanor seeped away as he watched you line yourself up with his cock, wanting his head to be clear enough to see you swallow him up. With one thrust, you lowered yourself onto him, his cock filling you to the brim. You nearly lost yourself to pleasure right there, were it not for the fact you remembered you’re supposed to be teasing him. This was the first time he let you ride him, after all. You needed to show him how good it could feel. 

You lifted yourself up, relishing the slow drag of his cock, before quickly dropping back onto him. In no time you found your pace and bounced on it, gasping and pressing your hand onto his chest. Beta looked at you with an expression beyond pleasure that words could describe, watching you use him to your heart’s content. His hands itched to squeeze your soft thighs, to dig his hands into them and perhaps lift you up and down his cock himself. Thankfully, his desire was answered.

Deciding to finally relieve him of his aching hands, you grabbed them and pushed them toward your breasts, thighs, tummy - whatever he wanted to touch. Not one to waste opportunities, he quickly took advantage of your kindness and reached to rub your clit, moving to pinch and pull at your breasts at the same time, delighting in how you threw your head back in gratification. Well, he wasn’t the only one who was allowed to do that. Not wanting to be outdone, you moved as fast as you could, lewd slaps nearly contending with your breathy moans as you watched as Beta in turn screwed his face up and let out his own hushed moan as well. 

With his nails dug into your thighs so hard you were sure they’d leave marks, with one final movement Beta spurted into you hard as you immediately came right after from the filling feeling. You were both left to breathe, bodies relaxing from the previous intensity. Your energy flowed away as you sighed, enjoying how cum continued to gush from your cunt. You laid down to cuddle on Beta’s chest, nuzzling gently into him. A few seconds later, his hand rested on your head, stroking and calming you down. You two stayed quiet like that for a little while, save for a few questions and if you needed water and such. 

“Are you happy?” Beta grumpily piped up, as he peered down at you, admittedly admiring how pretty you looked in the afterglow. You smiled.

“Very. My gift was very useful and compliant. An amazing birthday, that’s for sure.” Another ‘hmph’ made you softly giggle, before your laughter was turned into a squeal, as the segment maneuvered your back to be pressed against the mattress now.

“Good. Now that you’ve had your fun, I can give you the gift I originally had planned,” Beta smiled at you a bit eerily, and you realized his cock began to swell in you once again. But you only looked at him with a cocky grin.

“Is that so? Well, I love receiving multiple gifts. In fact, give me as much as you desire…”

[the-void-via]

TW: TALK OF GUNS, INJURES FROM GUNS, DEATH, ANDROID GORE IG?

Second part of my Rota Fortunea fic!

“The leader of the resistance, Sunday, was found dead fifteen system hours ago. Forensic experts have deduced the cause of death to be a gunshot wound to the head. However, upon finding the gun at the crime scene, only Sunday's fingerprints were found on it. Law enforcement is investigating the crime scene-”

Ratio shut the TV off with a grumble, glaring at his reflection in the dark screen. He set the remote down and turned to the nearby table, Aventurine’s sleeping body laying atop it.

He glanced at Ruan Mei and Herta. Oil stained their hands, working on hooking Aventurine up to a power source before they worked on fixing him. He—reluctantly—stayed a few feet back, after both women had practically ripped the android from his arms when he walked through the door.

Barely a word had been exchanged between the women and Ratio, putting all their attention and focus into Aventurine. He could do little but stand back, peering over their shoulders from time to time to try and check their progress.

Ruan Mei moved, allowing Ratio a clear view of Aventurine’s face-

He cringed. Some layers of machinery had been stripped away near his right eye, leaving a red LED light to stare back at him. His eyes drifted, the metal of his neck slight exposed–

He turned away. It was too much to bear. Seeing someone who used to be his friend– no. The man he loved in such a state killed him inside. He moved to sit down, sighing heavily.

“Don't move much,” Ruan Mei softly scolded, not even turning to look at him. “You sustained three gunshot wounds from Sunday. You don't want them to open.”

He grumbled a little bit, muttering something under his breath as a reply. Ruan Mei didn’t say anything else, fully focused on the android laying atop the table in front of her.

Herta was no different, the only indication of her presence being her soft mutterings to herself, working with Ruan Mei as if they had some telepathic connection they were communicating through.

It was unnerving, to say the least. The silence in the room.

Ratio sighed again and leaned against the chair, staring up at the ceiling. His body relaxed into the chair; the adrenaline had long worn off, slowly being replaced with exhaustion. He fought it as long as he could, fought to keep his eyes open- but his body knew he was safe.

His eyes started to slip closed, hoping for just a little cat nap…it sounded nice at this point…

…

Knock, knock, knock. …knock-knock!

His body jerked, sitting up straight in the chair. The two geniuses had made progress on Aventurine, he deduced they were just over halfway in connecting him to a power source- but that wasn't the priority at the moment.

Someone knocked on the door.

Herta had walked away from the table, leaving Ruan Mei to continue for a moment by herself. She turned to look at Ratio as she heard the chair jerk, her expression unreadable.

“You're awake.” She said bluntly.

“W- ahem- what was that?” He asked, rubbing his eyes. “That knock. Is it-”

“Thank you, Miss Herta,” A voice—definitely not Herta’s—came from the hallway she had disappeared down a moment ago. “I'm sorry to inconvenience you at a time like this. I had a run-in with a few androids above ground, and I just need a few tune-ups on my arm–”

A male figure, clad in a dusty dark pink cloak, walked into the room at Herta’s side. He pulled his hood back, his hair dyed pink with long, white roots. Deep crimson eyes scanned the room as he stopped dead in his tracks, blinking at the two new figures.

“Oh.” He mumbled in surprise. “There's other men here. That's…intriguing.”

“Never mind them,” Herta shooed him to another table, aiding him in sitting atop it. “You said you need me to fix your arm? Which one?”

The man shed his cloak, revealing himself to be wearing a tight black tank top, as well as black shorts with knives tucked inside harnesses. He carefully extended a mechanical arm, using his other hand to point to his elbow. “This one, the joints got busted up real bad. I was afraid it would fall off before I got here.”

Ratio’s eyes widened upon seeing him. His arms and legs were very visibly mechanical, white metal with elegant dark pink accents. His stomach almost sank upon the realization.

Another android?

“Wow, Shilou,” Herta mused, taking his arm into her hands and examining his joint. “This is really badly damaged. You really are lucky it didn't fall off on the way.”

“I know,” Shilou chuckled a little. “Thank you again, Miss Herta. Are you sure there's nothing I can do for you? Any materials you need? I can't keep letting you fix me without any sort of payment-”

“Excuse me,” Ratio’s voice cut him off, his arms folded across his chest in an almost standoffish manner. “Who are you?”

Tags: @havanillas @serendipminie @blak-ie @blackcat2907 @drowning-in-cabbages @lumin-arii @kyl13sm1l3y @darkluminosity @smellofsnoww (lmk if you wanna be tagged or not when I post about my oc's!)

[satellite-evans]

Can't pay the bills

A/N : a blurb that came out of nowhere lol enjoy

word count : 600 words ( she's cute)

Harry was sprawled out on the couch, a book in one hand and a cup of tea resting precariously on the coffee table. His oversized sweater and reading glasses made him look like the coziest man alive, completely at peace in your shared home.

You leaned against the kitchen counter, your phone secretly set up to record. The idea for this prank had come to you last night, and you couldn’t resist giving it a go. Harry was so doting, so protective—it was bound to be hilarious.

“Harry,” you called out, your voice tinged with just enough worry to catch his attention.

His head snapped up immediately, the book falling shut in his lap. “What’s wrong, love?”

You wrung your hands for dramatic effect, sighing as you stepped into the living room. “I need to talk to you. It’s… important.”

Harry straightened, sliding his glasses off and setting them on the coffee table. His green eyes searched your face, a flicker of concern crossing his features. “Alright, what is it?”

Taking a deep breath, you sat beside him, biting your lip. “I can’t pay the bills this month.”

There was a beat of silence. Harry blinked at you, visibly confused. “What?”

“I… overspent. Like, really overspent,” you explained, avoiding his gaze. “And now, I don’t have enough to cover the bills.”

Harry tilted his head, his brow furrowing. “Darling, you don’t pay the bills.”

You paused, thrown off by his matter-of-fact tone. “What do you mean?”

“I mean…” He chuckled lightly, though his confusion was apparent. “You’ve never paid the bills. That’s my thing. Always has been.”

You tried to salvage the prank, pressing on. “Well, yeah, but I was trying to be responsible this month! Take some of the load off you, you know? And now I’ve failed.”

Harry gave you a look, one eyebrow raised. “You’re telling me you suddenly decided to take over paying the bills, which I’ve always handled, without telling me… and somehow ran out of money?”

You nodded solemnly, trying to keep a straight face.

He leaned back against the couch, crossing his arms. “Alright, let me get this straight. You’ve managed to spend more than what’s in your account, on top of what I’ve already set aside for everything? Love, what did you buy? A yacht?”

At that, you snorted, quickly covering your mouth. Harry’s lips twitched, and you could tell he was holding back a laugh.

“You’re not upset?” you asked, feigning innocence.

“I’m baffled, not upset,” he replied, shaking his head. “I mean, I’d be thrilled if you wanted to be more involved, but you don’t have to. You know I love taking care of you, yeah?”

That did it. The guilt of pranking him—and the tenderness in his voice—made you burst out laughing.

“Oh my God, Harry, it’s a prank!” you admitted, clutching your stomach as you leaned forward.

Harry stared at you for a moment before a slow grin spread across his face. “A prank, huh? You think it’s funny to make me think my wife suddenly decided to ruin my perfectly balanced system?”

You were laughing too hard to reply, especially as Harry reached over to tickle your sides mercilessly.

“That’s what you get,” he teased, his voice filled with mock indignation. “Prank me, will you?”

“Harry, stop!” you cried, wriggling away as he pulled you into his arms, still grinning.

When you finally caught your breath, you looked up at him, his face close to yours. “You’re too sweet, you know that?”

“Sweet, am I?” he said, his voice softening. “You’re lucky I adore you, or I’d make you pay me back by doing the washing up for a week.”

You laughed, resting your forehead against his. “You wouldn’t dare.”

“Try me, love,” he whispered, kissing you gently.

[alternate-real-ities]

I'd love to see what alternate versions of this guy there are.

Sure buddy. It wasn't easy tuning my machine this time, but I think I've found some interesting realities out there! Hope you like them :)

In an alternate reality not so different from our own, this bearish hunk has taken on a more muscular, less chubby form - transformed into a behemoth. Here, he's not just any old gym rat; he's a world-famous powerlifter and internet celebrity whose influence knows no bounds.

Young men from all corners of the globe look up to him as their idol, their motivation, their reason for living - especially when it comes to getting swole. They follow his every post, eagerly absorbing each tip on training and nutrition like gospel from a fitness prophet. And why not? With a physique like his, who wouldn't want to emulate perfection?

His pecs are massive, each one a study in taut, rippling muscle that defies the laws of physics. His arms bulge with thickness, as if carved from granite by some mythical sculptor. His thighs are tree trunks, powerful and unyielding, while his calves are chiseled masterpieces of human anatomy.

But his influence extends far beyond the gym walls. In this world, a new wave of ripped teens has become the norm, thanks largely to their idolization of this muscular beast. Gone are the days of skinny, awkward youth; now, every boy from puberty onwards is driven to get big and buff in order to measure up.

Parents worry about the health implications, but who can blame them for wanting their sons to grow up strong and confident like this fitness icon? And as for the young men themselves, they'd follow him anywhere - even into the depths of steroid abuse if it means achieving that perfect, chiseled physique.

In this world, there's no escaping his shadow - nor would anyone want to. For in the presence of such unadulterated muscle majesty, all other men are but mere mortals, forever relegated to the sidelines while he reigns supreme as the ultimate embodiment of human potential.

In another reality, our bearish hunk has been reborn as a towering Latin stud, the kind of papi that makes hearts race and loins stir across every continent. Hailing from Colombia, he grew up in a world where machismo is king, and his rugged good looks and powerful physique were destined for greatness.

Here, he's known as Papi Leche, a towering figure of masculine perfection with a body that could make even the most devout Catholic priests weep with lust. His skin is a rich, burnished brown that glistens with the sheen of oil and sweat after a long day at the gym.

But it's not just his physique that sets this Latino daddy apart - it's his legendary cum, renowned throughout the land for its unparalleled potency and addictive quality. Gringos from all over the world can't resist the allure of his Latin leche, once they've tasted its salty, intoxicating flavor.

He takes great pleasure in breaking them down, both physically and mentally, until they're nothing more than obedient little cumsluts desperate for another taste of his golden nectar. And he always delivers, pumping load after massive load into their eager mouths and throats until they're drowning in Latin dick juice.

And it's not just a physical addiction. They gradually change the more leche they drink. Their skin darkens, their features soften, and their accents change until they're speaking in perfect, melodic Spanish.

Before long, this Latino daddy has an entourage of half-Latino, half-gringo chicos who worship him and vie for his attention - all of them hooked on his leche like junkies on a fix.

So if you ever find yourself in Colombia, make sure to keep an eye out for this hulking bear of a man - but be warned: once you've caught sight of him, there's no escaping his gravitational pull. You'll be drawn in like a moth to a flame, helpless to resist the allure of his latin leche until you're nothing more than a mindless, cum-addicted shell of your former self.

Finally, in yet another reality, our bearish hunk has been reborn as a cocky, wealthy young Arab stud - the epitome of Dubai's high-flying elite and a player in every sense of the word.

Here, he's the king of the scene, with a body that's equally at home on the beach or in the boardroom. His skin is a flawless, golden brown, his features chiseled like marble from the hands of a skilled sculptor.

As a member of Dubai's elite social circle, he moves through life like a prince among paupers - except instead of a crown, he wears a gold-plated watch on each wrist. He cruises the city in his gleaming black Lamborghini, with a string of adoring twink boys piled into the backseat for good measure.

These young men are just playthings for him to use and discard, their tight little holes and eager mouths mere receptacles for his boundless sexual appetite. He'll fuck them raw, pump them full of cum, and then toss them aside like yesterday's trash - all while smirking in satisfaction at the knowledge that he's left another broken little twink in his wake.

But it's not just about the physical act for this Arab stud; it's about the power dynamic. He loves nothing more than to humiliate his conquests, reducing them to quivering, tear-streaked messes as he lectures them on their place in the world - namely, at his feet, servicing his every whim.

And when he lets loose with that massive, cut Arab cock, it's a sight to behold - thick, veiny, and heavy as a horse's head, with a bulbous, slit-tipped crown that glistens with precum. It's the kind of dick that can stretch even the most well-fucked hole to its limits, leaving its recipients gasping in awe at his sheer size and potency.

And yet, despite all the degradation and abuse, these twinks can't get enough of him. They're addicted to the thrill of being used by such a powerful, dominant figure; they crave the taste of his cum on their tongues and the feeling of his thick, veiny cock splitting them open.

But despite all of this, this Arab boy has a soft spot for romance. He adores showering his favorite twink with expensive gifts and lavish dates - taking him to the finest restaurants and clubs, then whisking him away to his private villa for a night of passionate lovemaking under the stars.

So if you ever find yourself in this version of Dubai, keep an eye out for this hunky Arab stud. Just be prepared to worship him... and pray that he deigns to notice your pathetic little existence.

And so, once again, we have explored the possibilities that the multiverse provides. Which version of our friend here do you think is the most appealing? Or perhaps you have your own alternate version in mind? Who knows, the possibilities are endless...

[kaissatou]

Can you PLEASE write smth abt sub namgyu or thanos its making me go insane i love them

hi nonnie ♡ why have just one when you can have both?? =.=

you never imaged either of them to be so….whiney. So you’re automatically suprised the first time you’re taking Namgyu the whole way into the back of your throat, and he lets out the prettiest noise you’ve ever heard in your whole life.

You assume he doesn’t even realise he let it slip, but by the way one of his veiny hands is coming up to grip the back of your heard firmly and just you down just a little bit more until your nose is pressed against his crotch, has you doubting himself. Either he didn’t clock it, or really he just didn’t care.

Breathing in his heady scent almost has you forgetting the presence of a certain big mouthed purple haired pillow princess, until you feel the ghosts of sweet and sloppy wet kisses against your bare back, trailing up the ladder of your spine. Namgyu’s leaving against a bathroom stall, you caged between his meaty thighs on all fours, Thanos cradling your body like your his drug, keeping you steady with his hands gripping the sides of your waist, the tent in his boxers tightening, using both of his legs to cage one of your thighs between his.

And then he’s humping your leg like a dog. Oh. But how could you ever resist his urges when he’s letting out the sweetest moans against your back, vibrating through your spine and sending your brain to overdrive. Namgyu’s cock on heavy on your tongue, the harshness of Thanos and his thrusts against your leg sending your throat up and down, hollowing around the thick member taking reside in the gooey chamber of your throat.

Namgyu throws his head back and hits the stall in the process with a harsh thud, adorned with a throaty, pretty whine as you hollow your lips around his abused cock and suck the life out of him. And then Thanos is engulfing your figure under his full body weight, his clothed cock just rubbing against your tight hole so sweetly, so infectious.

They’re both moaning in a cacophony, moans becoming sluttier and sloppier and you know they’re both approaching their peak in unison. Namgyu’s salty cum is hot on the tip of your tongue as he’s sliding down the wall to be eye to eye with the both of you. Thanos slumps limply against your back, whispering a quiet thank you, the only sounds the mix of your heavy breathing and the overbearing fan.