#but this is fantasy so i can do what i want

[l1tw1ck]

Thunder

Bottom!FTM Cloud Strife x Top!Male Reader

⛈️ Word Count: 1,799 ⛈️

While out on a mission, you and Cloud get caught in a sudden thunderstorm, forcing you to find shelter for the night until it stops. But after a couple days, there aren't any signs of it letting up

AFAB Language Used | I had writer's block and got bored so i decided to finally continue playing final fantasy. I stopped like 30 minutes in to write this fic at 12AM. i put down the game (temporarily! i love it) after the section 8 stuff so i'm sorry for any inaccuracies, just needed to take advantage of this burst of motivation

CW: Rape/Non-Con, Somnophilia, Power Imbalance, Frottage, Teasing, Creampie

You peek outside the window, or what was left of it, of the broken down building you're in then turn to Cloud. “Looks like we’ll have to stay the night.” Lightning strikes to reinforce your words. “Think you can handle it, pretty boy?”

“Stop treating me like a rookie.” Cloud sighs. “And stop calling me pretty boy.”

“It's hard when you look like an adorable little kitten.” You smile.

He rolls his eyes and looks around for burnable items.

“It's like watching a lion cub hunt and gather.”

“I can't wait for this night to be over.” He groans. “How about you do something useful, captain?”

“Like what, kitty?”

Cloud grips the damp piece of wood in his hand in annoyance. “Like maybe finding things to keep the water out of here.” He tosses the wood aside.

“Sure.” You stretch.

The two of you worked together to make the old building livable for the night and went to sleep thinking it’d be over by morning.

Cloud wakes up to the loud sound of thunder and sighs. He sees you leaning against the wall. “It's still raining.”

“It sure is.” You chuckle. “We might be here for a while, kitty. Unless you want to run out and somehow dodge all that lightning?”

The two of you are way too far from the base to even consider doing that. The job pays well but not enough for Cloud to not be annoyed with this sudden detour. “I better get a bonus for this.”

“Of course. You could get paid even more if you did me a little favor.”

He raises an eyebrow.

“About 60,000 gil plus your bonus pay.”

“What is it?” He asks, attentive.

You smirk. “Since we're gonna be stuck here for who knows how long, I think it’d be nice to do something as a…pastime of sorts.”

“Stop beating around the bush.”

You motion for him to come over. He rolls his eyes and gets up. “I know you're talented in so many ways,” You grab his wrist and pull him close to you. “And I wanna see if you're talented in this way too.”

He pushes you and steps back, his cheeks red. “Don't even think about it.”

“It was worth a shot.” You laugh.

He shakes his head and decides to explore the building more, far from you.

The sun set and the sky continued to pour. Then days passed. You rationed food and managed to find other edible things to keep yourselves alive but the situation isn't all that great for you. You're still functioning, but just by a small margin.

The two of you were able to collect rainwater to drink and help yourselves clean up. Cloud insisted on doing it upstairs so you wouldn't watch him. You promised you wouldn't but you were lying.

As time went on, it was getting harder and harder to keep it in your pants. Your mental state started to get a little wonky thanks to your body not getting all the nutrients it needs. You couldn't stop thinking about how much you wanted him, especially since it was better than thinking about food. It got to a point where you couldn't even fall asleep.

You look at Cloud’s sleeping face, studying the slight movements in his facial muscles as he dreams. The soft glow of your lamp allows you to properly see him despite the darkness. His chest slowly rises and falls. You know if you made an attempt, he’d wake up, any good soldier would. But it's getting hard to control yourself. Being in such close proximity with him is driving you mad. You hesitantly, and very softly, touch his shoulder. He doesn't react. You poke his cheek. Nothing. You pause.

You trace your finger down his chest and to his pants. You carefully unbuckle his belt and unzip his pants. He doesn't seem to notice you pulling them down. You take in a small breath. You're so nervous it feels like there's a hole in your chest. You remove his boxers at an agonizingly slow pace. You gulp as you start to see his pussy. Light blond tufts of hair beautifully surround his soft, pudgy cunt and his t-dick. You look at him. He's sleeping peacefully. He must be more tired than usual tonight.

You gently pull his underwear down his ankles and place it on the end of the blanket he’s laying on. You carefully spread his legs and slot yourself in between them. As you begin to free your aching hard dick, you start to feel a little bad. You tell yourself to give him a huge bonus after this. You gently rub your cock along his pussy, knowing you can definitely get off just by doing this. You don't want it to hurt, at least not too much, so you decide not to penetrate him since your luck would probably run out if you tried to prep him properly.

You bite down on your lip. The view is making you feel dizzy. Your ears drown out the sounds of the thunder storm and focus entirely on Cloud. On his soft, gentle breaths and the squelching sound of his wet pussy, aroused by your cock pressing itself against it. Your heart starts to pound louder, ruining your focus on Cloud.

You let out a breathy gasp as you begin to feel your climax approaching. Your eyes flicker over to his face, watching to make sure he's still asleep. You don't know how you’ve gotten this far but you're no longer so sure that you’ll be able to stop here. Your movements stutter as your cum splatters on his body.

“Cloud..” You whisper. His lack of reaction emboldens you to keep going. You move back and slide your middle finger inside his cunt. Squelch. It sucks it in with ease, and same with your ring finger. You slowly open him up while using your free hand to jerk yourself off. He twitches. You pause and look at him before continuing.

You eventually decide to stop and finally get to the good part. You gently lift Cloud’s legs and position the tip of your cock in front of his entrance. You take your time easing into him while constantly checking if he's awake.

Once you're finally fully inside, you take a couple minutes to take everything in. You're in serious disbelief but way too horny to be concerned about it. You know that, at this point, if he wakes up, you’ll be able to overpower him.

You slowly thrust into him, happily indulging in the wonders of Cloud Strife’s pussy. You gently caress his t-dick, smiling when you start to hear him whimper. “You feel so good, Cloud– ‘s like you were made for me, to tempt me..” You murmur, gradually picking up the pace. “I didn't think it’d be so easy…”

“Maybe you're not even asleep. No properly trained soldier would sleep through something like this…I wonder if you're enjoying this. Getting off on me assaulting you in your sleep like a slut.” You notice his cheeks starting to turn red. A chill runs down your spine as you start to get a feeling your assumption is correct. “You like this, Cloud? Letting yourself get taken advantage of? Does it feel good getting treated like a cocksleeve?”

He whimpers, his cunt squeezing you.

“I know you're awake. Answer me.”

His eyes flutter open, his face flushed and deliciously seductive. “It– it feels good-!” He moans.

“Good boy.” You grin. You never would've thought Cloud would be into something like this. You roughly pound into him. He cries out in pleasure, feeling his orgasm approaching. “‘M gonna come inside and you're gonna take it like the good kitty you are.”

“Ye- yes–!” He shuts his eyes, squirting on your dick. His mouth hangs open as the aftershocks hit him. He smiles dreamily as he feels your cum flow inside of him.

You stop and catch your breath. “Did you reject me hoping this would happen?”

Cloud nods softly. “I didn't think it would…but I wanted it to.”

…..........

He pushes you and steps back. “Don't even think about it.”

“It was worth a shot.”

He shakes his head and decides to explore the building more, far from you.

Cloud climbed the semi-intact stairs and explored the second floor of the building. There wasn't anything noteworthy inside but it did give him much needed privacy. No room to lay down but he didn't need to anyway.

He walked behind a wall to hide himself in case you decided to follow him, and unbuckled his pants. He stuck his hand down them and gently caressed his t-dick. He always knew you were attracted to him, it wasn't like you were hiding it, and he pretended that he hated it. He loves your pet names and the lustful way you look at his body. Part of him hoped that one day, you’d just force yourself on him and claim him like a prize. He didn't think it'd ever happen but he never got tired of fantasizing about it. He hoped he'd have some sort of opportunity for you to finally make your move.

He'd imagine you cornering him in the locker room showers and covering his mouth to make sure no one finds out.

Cloud sneakily rubs his sensitive nipples against the cold wall tiles as you enter him. “Shh, this is what you get for being such a tease.” You spank him, your cock forcefully entering his pussy. Cloud shivers at the sounds of your heavy breathing. He can tell how aroused you are and how much you love his body. He rolls his eyes back as you stretch him wide open, his own heavy breaths making him feel lightheaded.

Or he’d imagine you giving him an ultimatum and forcing him to submit to you in exchange for keeping his job.

Cloud fakes a look of disgust as he stares at your rock hard cock. He looks up at you then back at your length, hesitating before enveloping it in his mouth. “There you go, Cloud, finally doing what I hired you for.” You praise him. He shudders at the thought, his pussy throbbing with need. “This is what you should be doing, not out on the battlefield but here, pleasing me.”

He looks up at you, trying to look angry. You smirk and push his head down, forcing him to shift his focus back.

His latest fantasy was about being trapped together. He hoped that something would happen to keep the two of you together for a long time. And he’d tease you even more to frustrate you. Then you’d finally do it.

He didn't think that exact scenario would actually play out.

[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.

[insertdisc5]

✨COOL THINGS I PLAYED/SAW/READ THIS YEAR, 2024!!!!!!!✨

✨MOVIS✨

Knight of Fortune was such a delight. karl's wife is dead-- he has to go to the morgue. to see her one last time. SURPRISINGLY funny given the theme, and incredibly sweet. AND you can watch it in its entirety on youtube

american fiction! incredible movie that made me think. what does it mean to tell "our stories"? what does it mean to show "representation"? how authentic can you truly be about your own lived experience? funny as hell too

if you havent seen Monkey Man, quite frankly i dont want to talk to you. dev patel i will watch whatever you make for the rest of time

the rest under the cut because this list got long

playtime by jacques tati. just slapstick. oh my god this was so goddamn funny

yeah you know it. i was very strong the whole time and then the credits hit and i started sobbing uncontrollably in the theater

challengers and i saw the tv glow are tied in first place for my favorite movie this year. incredibly funny and SO WELL EDITED. highly recommend watching it with friends so you can scream "OH NO HE DIDN'T" together

✨TV SHOWS✨

SHOGUN!!!!!! oh my god there is so much to praise in this show. the costumes! the actors! the story! how they integrated both english and japanese speakers in a realistic way! so good

korean reality shows are not fucking playing around. the editing and sets are truly top notch

✨BUUKS✨

-Friday Black by Nana Kwame Adjei-Brenyah! what if black mirror was actually good. AND centered the stories of black people. highly recommend

-Character Limit: How Elon Musk Destroyed Twitter by Kate Conger and Ryan Mac! you probably were on twitter when The Whole Thing happened. maybe you dont know the exact details like i do. what if the details were worse i also dont read non-fiction very often, surprised at how fun this was to read!

-The Chromatic Fantasy by H.A.! I've been following their work since forever, and this was a delight to read as always! THE COLORS…………. BITES BITES BITES BITES

-sad girl space lizard. hell yeah (18+ only!)

-Gritli - The Moth Diaries by Sophie Florian und Hanako Emden! this one was just so strange and fascinating. per words of the authors: "Taking on the voices of anthropomorphic animals, the authors write about labour, companionship and crushing."

✨VIDY GAMES✨

skipping balatro, splatoon side order, fields of mistria and webfishing, because you probably know about those. uuuuh

i am too stupid for Void Stranger, but My God if you're smart this game will become your favorite game ever. 2D sokoban with so many secrets

marchen line!!! nth circle never misses. the visuals here are so fun!!! the UI! the plot! the almost-automatic-censoring when you see gore, as if your mecha body took a second to load!! hell fucking yeah

"adrienne, of the devil was this year" OH WORD? THEN EVERYONE SHOULD PLAY OF THE DEVIL'S FIRST EPISODE WHAT ARE YOU WAITING FOR

life after magic! magical girls are now adults, and magic is disappearing. what now? the art is so cute, and the story was very engaging. thank you for the additional episode with [spoilers]

i started nine sols and i think i might be enough of a gamer to beat it

shadow generations game of the year no contest. thank you for your time

you can also look at my massive list of stuff i played/watched/etc here. i am not posting this whole dang thing

[uglygirltrying]

insecure princess!reader x barbarian!ghost cw: angst, brief sexual mentions, bad writing, confusing ghost insecure princess!reader who has never had any suitors. her sisters overshadow her. her mother pities her, afraid that her daughter will never marry.

fortunately, due to an alliance that her father has made, she finally marries. he's a barbaric prince, shameless and perverted. mean and scary.

princess!reader who tries her best to make love kindle between them, to live the fantasy that she's always had. she rubs lavender oil on her neck, tugs one of her nightgowns straps down her shoulder, to be desirable like the women in paintings. her lady-in-waiting helps her make her hair silky, and her dresses pleasing to the eye. but you can't put lipstick on a pig.

the prince only has her from the back. it's a relief that he wants to make love to her, but at the same time it breaks her heart. she wants to have a face that he wants to look at.

the princess' anxiety only worsens when she notices that the prince's older brother keeps looking at her. she's not used to attention from men, she doesn't know how to interpret it. he might want to hurt her, show everyone just how disgusting she is. or maybe he laughs with his mates about her, just like everyone else. or maybe... he likes the look of her, maybe he'd like to tug her nightgown down and have her chest to chest. it's a stupid thought, she shouldn't entertain them and embarrass herself. and he's her husbands brother!! it's wrong!

then, one night during a feast, her husband's drunk antics drive her to walk away. she wanders the dark hallways of the castle, moonlight and candlelight illuminating the paintings on the walls.

the princess stops to look out of a window, a lone tear running down her cheek. it's an unending weight on her shoulder. she hates the presence of other princess', the prettier princess', they only remind her of what she isn't. knights don't fight for her, artists don't paint her beauty, and princes don't ask her to dance at balls.

a noise makes her jump out of her thoughts, she whips her head around to look down at the hallway. it's him. her husband's brother, ghost. he stands few feet away from the princess, looking her up and down.

"c'mon," he urges, his voice deep and rough. ghost nods, gesturing down the corridor, to the feast. before the princess can even respond, he has already turned around and began to walk back. but she doesn't follow.

the princess stays in place, looking down at the floor as she sniffles. why should she go back there? they don't want her there. the man in armor turns back around when he doesn't hear the princess following after him. ghost lets out a sigh, as he hears her sniffle. with couple of steps, he's standing in front of her.

"why do you cry, princess?" he mutters, reaching up and gently holding her cheek in his scarred hand.

"i hate him..." it's a silent whisper, lost to the silence of the cold castle. her face twists as she fights against more tears.

"walls have ears, and they will twist your words into treason," ghost says firmly, shutting the girl up before she can be her own doom. his thumb run over the bottom of her eye, wiping up the tears that spill. ghost sighs and leans down, pressing a small kiss between her eyebrows.

"sweet princess, you need to return to the feast... i cannot take you away tonight," he whispers huskily.

"take me away...?" she repeats, even quieter, her brows knitted in confusion.

"if i killed him, i could claim you for myself," ghost murmurs. he looks down at her, letting the princess ingest his words.

her eyes are wide in shock. kill? for her? that is the most romantic thing she's ever heard. is this what courting is? if so, then she only wants more of it. she can't tell if he's mocking her, but there's something in his voice that makes her stomach stir with excitement. the wine in his breath makes her consider for a moment that he's messing with her, but she also wants to enjoy the attention.

"h-how would you take his life?" the girl straightens her back, trying to sound more confident.

"i would slit his throat, as easy as slicing a warm pie," ghost says it as if it's nothing, his running along her cheek. "i could take you far away, we would live in a house by the sea and you could wear pretty dresses for only me to see."

her breath hitches, feeling that flutter in her stomach. jesus christ. her hands clutch onto her cute little dress as she squeezes her thighs together. now she regrets giving her virginity to that twig, when a man like this could've had it, a man who truly deserves her purity.

"now be a smart girl and return to the feast." ghost murmurs and turns to walk back to the feast.

what?

she quickly reaches forward, desperately clinging onto the man's arm, to keep him there. if she let's go now, he might just come across a wench or two and change his mind. "b-but you said that-!" she stammers, utterly confused by the change in the air. there's no one there for her. no one who she's welcome to. her heart aches. she thought that this prince wanted her. what did she do wrong? ghost scoffs, gently prying the girls hands off his forearm. "you think it’ll be like a story, a hero slaying the villain and sweeping the princess off her feet. but this is real life," his tone is suddenly colder, more detached. “you’re chasing something that will never be yours.”

her hands stay in the air for a moment when he pulls away from her, reluctant to let go. his words sting, dig in deep and leave a pit for her to collapse in. her hands fall down and settle over her stomach as she fidgets with them.

she opens her mouth to say something, but the words escape her. it all changed so fast. some wench must've bewitched him, taken him from her. why can't she have anything, not even a man who wants her?

he looks at her again, his gaze intense, unflinching. his expression hardens, though there’s still a part of him that almost looks regretful. and then, he just walks away.

the princess can do nothing else than stand in place and hold back tears. she's alone again. the moonlight makes her shaking hands look blue. did she misunderstand? did she wrongly assume the meaning of his words? or was she just so naive?

it hurts to think, and the thoughts themselves hurt even more. it'd better if she just went to bed. ------------------------------------

inspired by the fact that i'm ugly and never had a boyfriend

[astrcmoni]

ᯓ☆ star’s midnight caller ☆ᯓ

MASTERLIST

pairing: billie eilish x sex-hotline-operator!fem!reader

genre: fluff, smut(kinda)

synopsis: in the quiet of the night, you answer a call that pulls you into a world of mystery and intrigue. what starts as a simple conversation with a stranger turns into a connection you never expected, leaving you craving more with each ring.

wc: 2.4k

warnings: light cussing here and there

authors note: let me know what you guys think, i really liked writing this and i want to make a part two. also there’s no smut in this part but the concept of the hotline is sexual (idk if that made sense) anyways imma stop rambling byeee ☆

phone call style story — reader is in bold italics, billie is in blue italics.

————

wednesday 12:43 am — incoming call from +1 (980) 598-7201 (charlotte, NC)

“thanks so much, babygirl,” richard says from the other side of the phone, his voice soft, tinged with something like gratitude. “you always know what i need.”

richard is one of your regulars, calling at least twice a week. he likes to imagine that you’re his long-lost girlfriend, reaching out from some parallel universe. you let him ramble, your voice smooth and coaxing, playing into his fantasy like a script you know by heart. a light laugh here, a soft hum there, the occasional breathy moan when it fits the moment.

“anytime, boo,” you reply, fingers already grazing the disconnect button. “take care of yourself, okay?”

the line clicks off, leaving a brief silence that feels heavier than it should. you exhale, stretching your arms above your head as you try to shake off the remnants of his voice. just another call. just another night.

soft light spills through the corners of your room, golden and warm against the pale lavender of your walls. the curtains billow lazily, carried by a breeze that whispers through the cracked window. outside, the city hums—a distant siren wailing, cars rolling down the street below, someone leaning on their horn too long, too loud.

at your desk, you lean forward, catching your reflection in the mirror perched precariously against a stack of books. sticky lip gloss catches the lamplight, glinting like glass. your lashes look decent—lifted enough to remind you of your own femininity. normally, you wouldn’t bother. no one can see you, after all. but it helps, this small ritual. it’s armor in a way, a mask you slip behind before stepping into this role.

“alright,” you mutter, rolling your neck to release the tension settling in your shoulders. “one more call and i’m done.”

the surface beneath your elbows is cluttered—textbooks splayed open, scribbled lab reports fighting for space with overdue bills. it’s not glamorous, but it pays. and it’s enough, for now.

you adjust your headset, letting the padded cups press comfortably against your ears, and clear your throat. the practiced warmth creeps back into your voice as the phone chimes again, flashing another number across the screen.

wednesday 12:49 am — incoming call from +1 (213) 597-3492 (los angeles, california)

“hello, and thank you for calling the pulse network. this is star speaking.” your voice drops an octave, soft and inviting, the words sliding out like honey. “who do i have the pleasure of speaking with tonight?”

there’s a pause on the other end—static filling the silence like a breath held too long. then, a voice cuts through, low, smooth, and distinctly feminine.

“uh…hi?” she sounds hesitant, her voice fraying at the edges like she’s second-guessing herself. “is this…is this a-uh…hotline for…you know?”

your brows knit for a moment before relaxing. most callers know exactly what they want, their voices heavy with intent. but her hesitation feels different. delicate, almost.

“that depends,” you say, leaning forward slightly, your tone light and playful. “what are you looking for, my love?”

she exhales sharply, and you can hear the faint sound of movement—like she’s pacing, the rhythm of her footsteps soft and uneven.

“honestly?” she says after a beat, her voice quieter now. “i don’t even know why i called. jus’ bored, i guess. curious. didn’t think this would even work.”

a smile tugs at your lips, though you bite it back. calls like these are rare, but you don’t mind them. there’s something refreshing about the uncertainty, the lack of pretense.

“well,” you murmur, letting your voice wrap around the words like a velvet ribbon, “we’re here now. go ahead, tell me whatever’s on your mind. no pressure.”

there’s a pause, long enough that you glance at the timer on the screen, wondering if she’s about to hang up. but then she sighs again, the sound softer this time, like she’s giving in.

“is it weird that i’m calling?” she asks, her voice dipping into the quiet like it’s unsure of its place.

“no judgment here, love. everyone has their reasons.” your response is soft, easy, laced with practiced charm. but something about her feels different.

“i don’t even know mine.”

the line falls into silence again, thick and heavy, broken only by the sound of her breathing—steady, almost meditative. it’s the kind of silence that feels like it’s waiting for you to fill it, but instead, you let it linger, listening.

“what’s your name?”

you blink, caught off guard. most callers don’t ask that unless it’s part of the fantasy they’re crafting. most don’t care to know.

“well, what do you want it to be?” you counter, your voice tipping into something playful.

she laughs softly, the sound low and throaty, curling through the line like smoke. “no, that’s not what i asked. i wanna know your name.”

there’s a pause as you weigh her words, the sincerity behind them.

“star,” you say finally, keeping it professional, your tone steady. “you can call me star.”

“what’s your real name?”

her question lands heavier than it should. it’s not forceful, not even intrusive. just curious. like she’s asking for a story rather than a fact.

you hesitate, fingers tracing the edge of your desk absentmindedly. something about her voice makes you want to give in, but you push the temptation aside, slipping easily into deflection.

“you know, most people don’t ask me that,” you murmur. “they usually want to know what i look like, what i’m wearing. things like that.”

“guess i’m not most people, then.”

“come on, you’re telling me you’re not even a little curious?”

she chuckles, warm and low, the kind of laugh that sticks in your chest. “okay, i’ll bite. what are you wearing, star?”

you smirk, leaning back in your chair as the city hums faintly through the open window.

“blue and black pajamas” you reply, your tone light. “lace trim. very cute, if i do say so myself.”

“where’d you get it?”

“some victoria’s secret around my city. they were having a sale.”

“cute.” her voice dips, carrying a hint of a smile. “now, back to my question.”

you roll your eyes, though there’s no edge to it. she’s persistent, you’ll give her that.

“you’re just gonna have to call me star. can’t give you my name. not tonight, sorry sweetheart.”

“no, it’s okay.” she pauses, then repeats it, like she’s trying it on. “well, star.” there’s something deliberate about the way she says it, slow and careful, testing its weight. “i’m billie.”

her name sits soft and sure in the air, settling between you like it belongs.

“you seem like a billie.”

“do i?”

“mhm,” you hum, leaning forward against the desk. “so, billie. what do you want to talk about?”

“hmm.” she draws the sound out thoughtfully, the silence stretching just long enough to make you wonder if she’ll answer. “why do you do this?”

the question hits you in a way you don’t expect, cutting through the usual rhythm of calls. most people don’t ask—don’t even think to ask.

you consider lying, giving her something easy, but the weight of her question lingers, tugging at the edges of your honesty.

“it pays the bills,” you admit finally, your voice soft. “and it’s not as bad as people think. i meet some…very…interesting people.”

“like me?”

the corner of your mouth quirks up, her words pulling at something playful in you.

“you tell me. are you interesting?”

“guess that depends.” she pauses, her voice curling with quiet amusement. “you think i’m interesting so far?”

“so far? i’ll give you a solid maybe.”

her laughter spills through the line, warm and unexpected, and it lingers in your room long after it fades.

“oh really? how long have you been doing this?”

“for about…” you pause, eyes flicking up to the ceiling like the answer might be scrawled there. “for about a little over a year now.”

“damn. that’s a long ass time.”

you chuckle, the sound warm and easy. “it is, isn’t it? i don’t know, i don’t mind it though. all i do is answer the phone. sometimes i do schoolwork, cook—small things like that. not like i necessarily have to be fully present for it, as long as i’m paying attention, you know?”

“you’re in school? just exactly how old are you?”

“wait—before we continue, you’re aware it’s a dollar seventy-five per minute, right?”

“uhh, i wasn’t, but i don’t mind it.”

“ooh, so you’re rich then?”

she laughs, a low, honeyed sound that settles in your chest. “i wouldn’t say that. i’d say i’m��� comfortable.”

“only rich people say they’re comfortable. but to answer your question, i’m twenty, in my junior year. babe, you?”

“okay, not bad. i’m twenty-three. though i did think you were much older.”

you snort, rolling your eyes even though she can’t see it. “not bad? we’re practically the same age.”

“mm, i got about three years on you, so… no,” she laughs, her voice carrying a teasing lilt. “what are you majoring in?”

“criminology. mainly forensics and things like that.”

“that’s so fucking cool. so you’re like those people on tv who examine bodies and shit?”

“yeah, but doing it in real life is way different than it looks on tv.” you close your eyes, the memory of your first dissection flashing briefly. “especially lab work. but you get used to it after a while.”

“still, that’s badass. you must be super smart.”

the compliment catches you off guard, heat crawling up your neck. “i guess you could say that,” you mutter, a quiet smile tugging at your lips.

the conversation flows easier after that, like water finding its way downhill. you don’t even realize when you’ve moved to your bed, your headset cast aside as her voice fills your room through the speaker.

she asks you everything—your favorite movies, the hobbies that keep you up at night, the kind of music that makes your soul hum. the questions are simple but intimate, slipping past your usual defenses like she’s known you for years.

and you answer her. honestly, without hesitation. there’s something about her voice, warm and unhurried, that pulls the truth out of you.

you find yourself smiling, more than you have in days, fingers absentmindedly playing with your hair as you lean into the sound of her. it feels oddly intimate—like a late-night call with someone who’s already carved out a space in your life.

“so,” she asks after a lull, her voice soft but curious, “what’s your favorite movie?”

you grin, closing your eyes as you let the answer roll off your tongue. “pulp fiction. it’s a classic, don’t judge me.”

“no judgment. i respect it. but you gotta admit, it’s a little basic.”

“oh, and you’re not basic? let me guess—you’re gonna say something artsy like ‘a clockwork orange’ or whatever.”

“wrong. mine’s ‘the shining.’”

“oh, so you’re a horror girl. noted.”

she laughs, the sound warm and easy, and you realize you don’t want the conversation to end. not yet. not with her voice lingering in your room like this.

“what about you?” you murmur, breaking the soft rhythm of silence that had settled between you.

“hm? what about me?” her voice lilts, curious but guarded.

“what do you do? like for work?”

there’s a pause, long enough that you wonder if she’s going to sidestep the question entirely. but then she exhales, the sound quiet, like she’s carefully letting something go.

“i’m a musician,” she says finally, her words tentative, like they might break if handled too roughly. “or i guess i was… i teach music now.”

her admission catches you off guard, a flicker of something vulnerable passing through the connection. but you don’t press her, sensing that whatever she’s offering is enough for now. instead, you let the conversation drift, carried by the quiet ebb and flow of her voice.

the hours blur like watercolors, the world outside fading until there’s only her.

eventually, her tone softens, the edges of her words rounding with sleep. “it’s getting late. i should let you go,” she murmurs, her voice barely above a whisper.

you glance at the alarm clock on the wall, the soft red digits blinking 3:35 a.m. back at you. exhaustion tugs at you, but the thought of ending the call feels heavier than it should.

“but…” her hesitation pulls you back to her. “can i call you again? i had a really good time.”

your heart stumbles over itself, a small hitch in your chest. “yeah, of course you can.” your voice dips into something softer, something closer to truth. “i had a good time too.”

“great. goodnight, star.” there’s a smile in her voice, light and unguarded, and it lingers in the air even after she’s gone.

“goodnight, billie.”

the line goes quiet, and for a moment, you sit there, the warmth of her voice still brushing against you like an afterglow.

you slip off your bed, padding into the bathroom to wash your face and brush your teeth. the cool water shocks your skin, but it doesn’t chase away the heat curling low in your stomach.

when you return to your room, the lamp clicks off with a soft snap, plunging the space into shadows broken only by the shifting colors of your tv. you slide under the covers, the faint hum of a late-night rerun filling the silence. the images blur on the screen, but all you can think about is her voice, the way it clung to the edges of the night, soft and sure.

a ding pulls you from your thoughts. your phone glows faintly on the nightstand, and you reach for it, the sudden brightness making you blink.

new transactions — 4:03 a.m.

+1 (254) 783-0184 (dallas, TX) - $26.25

+1 (980) 598-7201 (charlotte, NC) - $43.75

+1 (213) 597-3492 (los angeles, CA) - $315.62

you smile, the corners of your lips twitching up involuntarily. it’s nothing unusual, but tonight it feels different, lighter somehow. you turn the screen off and set the phone back down, a quiet sense of contentment settling over you.

for the first time in a long time, you find yourself looking forward to your next call.

inspired by @whore-era

astrc’s tag list: @zendayasredbottoms @bilsdillldough @billiesrighthand @watercolorskyy @bilssturns ; hit my asks saying “add to taglist” if you want to be on my regular taglist for all billie content!

[clockwork-hearted]

This was the first queer movie I watched in high school. I remember finally having good, strong WiFi and exploring YouTube one night. Was using my refurbished MacBook that I begged my dad to get me so I can have something to use for school.

I don’t remember how exactly I came across this movie (honestly was probably going through some YouTube rabbit hole of “movies where guys make out” or the classic “two men kissing” search), but it was the full length movie. And it was free.

I was so excited to watch it and see what kind of guy on guy action I would get to see. But being forced to stay in the closet growing up, I couldn’t just outright watch this movie while my parents were home.

So I bookmarked it. Made sure I even saved the link somewhere. And had to wait until my parents weren’t home.

Thankfully, I ended up realizing that I was a teen that was allowed to stay up late on the weekends. So I stayed up, waited until both my parents were in their rooms, fast asleep, and then I went into my room, closed the door (couldn’t lock it though. Locking bedroom doors was an offense that would cause a scene every time for absolutely no reason), plugged my headphones in, and snuggled up and watched it.

I remember sitting upright to start it then getting tired and deciding to lay down. Ended up laying the laptop on its side just so I could keep watching haha

And I remember going through the rollercoaster of emotions seeing these two characters having a connection but being so twisted up about it. Regardless of everything they went through, I still wanted that. I still wanted someone I could kiss passionately. Someone I could go to bed with and wake up next to in our own little world. Someone I could go to the beach with and spend all day with. Someone who wanted to push me for my abilities (don’t have any but it played into my fantasies lol) and strive to be the best I could be at them.

And then reaching the end of the movie and being so happy with it. I remember crying. Crying so much that I thought I wasn’t going to be able to stop. I remember shoving my face in my pillows to try and muffle my crying.

Oh, I learned to cry silently so very quick in my home. How I learned what it meant to be even more suppressed than I already was. How I had to learn to hold back all the choking sounds my throat would utter and just let the tears flow. Silently blowing my nose into tissues so I wouldn’t wake my parents and cause a scene.

“Why are you crying? What’s happening? What did you watch? What’s going on? Etc. etc. etc.” - yeah, like I was going to come clean about my emotions and be able to talk these things out. Pht. How I wished and how I dreamed that I could. Would’ve made growing up easier. But I didn’t have those kinds of parents.

So the first night I watched this movie, it meant a lot in such little time. Movies like this really saved me as a teen.

I started doing a deep dive into any and all other queer movies I could find online for free (but that’s a story for a different time).

Tbh, I had forgotten about this gem of a movie. Made me feel a little guilty for forgetting, mostly because it really helped me continue pretending, and knowing that one day I would find someone to experience beautiful moments with. It allowed me to realize that queer media (that wasn’t porn) was out there, that I didn’t have to feel alone, and that it was only a few key strokes and google searches away.

For anyone who read through this whole thing (I know I blabbed, but I really needed to get this off my chest and my mind), thank you.

And I also hope that even though the world can feel so against you, even in spaces that are supposed to be safe, that there are people out there that know and understand you and can relate to how you feel.

I know it’s always easier said than done, but hang in there. And if it all gets to be too suffocating, please remember there are resources out there to help. But please, please, please, don’t get snuffed out. Let yourself burn as bright as you can. Because at the end of the day, you will always find Shelter- whether it’s with family members, friends, teachers, chosen/adoptive families, online communities, etc. you will find it. And you will be safe. And you will be loved.

I wish you all the very best. May this movie and many others bring you as much joy as it did to me. <3

Shelter (2007) dir. Jonah Markowitz

[missarchive]

Spencer request! Slightly mean dom spencer who watches his roommate reader watch a porn video where the guy is HOLDING the girl down to eat her out and she’s all flustered but very turned on but thinking there’s no way anyone gives head like THAT. And spender is a competitive little shit who needs to prove we wrong, obviously

i have never jumped to write something so quick, yes please!

cw; +18 minors dni, slight mean dom!spencer, munch!spencer, porn mention, unprotected p in v, masturbation (f), fade to black smut

"Please, God. Please, I need it. Please!"

Your cheeks flush hot as you stare at the screen, the scene unraveling before you more intoxicating than you'd like to admit. A girl writhes beneath a man who’s holding her down, his mouth working her with relentless precision. Your thighs clench involuntarily, a futile attempt to stifle the ache building inside you. Despite the muted volume, every moan, every gasp feels amplified in the silent room.

You shouldn't be watching this. Not here. Not now. But your body betrays you, legs shifting slightly apart, and a hand slipping beneath your oversized T-shirt.

"Fuck, don't stop," you whisper, the words slipping out before you can stop them.

One hand covers your mouth to muffle your voice as the other trails down your body. Your fingers pinch your hardened nipple, sending a jolt of pleasure through you. The scene on the screen has your complete attention—the way his hands grip her thighs, his tongue teasing her until she’s arching off the bed. It’s a fantasy you’ve imagined countless times but never experienced.

You're just about to slip your hand into your underwear when a shadow moves at the edge of your vision. Your heart stops. Slowly, you turn toward the door, and there he is—Spencer.

He's leaning casually against the doorframe, a smirk curling his lips, his hazel eyes glinting with mischief.

"Am I interrupting?"

You yank the blanket over yourself, panic and mortification warring for dominance. "Spencer!"

He steps into the room, his gait confident but unhurried. "What exactly are you watching?" His tone is teasing, but the heat in his gaze makes your breath hitch.

"I-I..." Words fail you. Your face burns so fiercely it feels like it might ignite.

Without invitation, he sits on the bed beside you. Your blanket shifts as you try to cover yourself, but his attention is already elsewhere—focused on the screen. His smirk deepens as he leans closer, his shoulder brushing yours.

"Interesting choice," he murmurs.

His hand moves behind you, resting lightly on your lower back. The touch freezes you, every nerve in your body hyper aware of his proximity. When his fingers trail down, brushing over the curve of your hip, you finally manage to whisper, "What are you doing?"

"Enjoying the show," he says with a wicked grin, his gaze dropping to your lips.

You try to move away, but he catches your arm, pulling you back against the mattress. His face hovers inches from yours, close enough for you to feel his breath fan against your cheek.

"Do you want it that badly, baby?" His voice is low, almost a growl, sending shivers down your spine.

You hesitate, your heart pounding, your body betraying you as your gaze flickers to the unmistakable bulge in his jeans. "Y-Yeah," you finally whisper, the admission so quiet it’s barely audible.

His smirk widens. Without another word, he shifts, pulling the blanket away and settling between your legs. His hands guide your thighs apart, his touch firm but gentle. You can only watch, your breath caught in your throat, as he slides your panties down and leans in close.

"Open up for me," he murmurs, his voice rough with desire. "I want to taste you."

You comply, spreading your legs further, your body trembling with anticipation. His lips brush your inner thigh, his warm breath teasing your sensitive skin.

"You're so wet already," he groans, his fingers parting you to expose your most intimate self. "So fucking perfect."

When his tongue finally flicks over you, your hips jerk off the bed, a sharp cry escaping your lips. His hands pin you down, his strength and control both thrilling and maddening.

"Spencer—please," you beg, not even sure what you’re asking for anymore.

“Shh,” Spencer murmurs, his voice soft and coaxing as his lips ghost over your skin. His breath is hot, his tone laced with a quiet dominance that sends shivers rippling through your body. “Just let me take care of you.”

The words are a balm and a promise, and they melt into you as his tongue resumes its sinful dance. Each flick, swirl, and press is methodical yet maddeningly intimate, like he’s memorizing every quiver and gasp you give in response. He latches onto your clit with a hunger that leaves you breathless, and the sound of your name spilling from your lips is a melody he seems determined to orchestrate.

“Fuck, you’re so sensitive,” Spencer breathes, his voice husky and reverent as it skates over your ear, sending goosebumps scattering down your spine.

Your thighs instinctively clamp around his head, but he doesn’t falter. Instead, he grips your hips firmly, pinning you in place as though daring you to resist. The wet heat of his tongue flicks against your clit, and the jolt it sends through your body is electric.

“Spencer, please—please,” you whimper, though the words are a tangle of desperation and surrender.

He doesn’t stop, doesn’t let up, his arms like iron as he holds you steady beneath him. The sheets twist beneath your fingers as you arch into his mouth, utterly undone by the relentless onslaught of pleasure. Your body writhes, your breath coming in short, shallow bursts, and yet you’re helpless to escape the tide building within you.

“Spencer!” His name breaks from your lips in a cry, raw and uninhibited, as his mouth closes over your clit again, the suction pulling you under.

You shatter, the orgasm consuming you with a ferocity that leaves you trembling, your muscles locking and releasing in a symphony of pure bliss. He doesn’t let up, his mouth and tongue coaxing every aftershock from you as though it’s his mission to wring you dry.

By the time he pulls away, your body feels like it’s liquefied into the mattress, your limbs trembling as you struggle to catch your breath. He presses a lingering kiss to the inside of your thigh, the gesture so gentle that it makes your chest ache with its intimacy.

Spencer rises slowly, his lips glistening with the evidence of your release, his eyes dark and heavy with satisfaction. “You taste incredible,” he murmurs, his voice thick and rich like velvet.

Your pulse is still racing, your body thrumming with the aftermath of your climax as you meet his gaze. He smirks, brushing a strand of hair away from your damp forehead.

"Does this beat the video, baby?" he asks, his voice smug, but his gaze is tender as he watches you struggle to catch your breath.

You can only nod, your body still trembling as he leans up to kiss you softly.

His lips linger on yours, teasing, tasting, as though savoring the remnants of your moans. The kiss deepens, and you can taste yourself on his tongue, a sensation that sends a fresh wave of heat coursing through you.

When he finally pulls back, his lips curl into a small, knowing smile. His gaze sweeps over your face, taking in the flush of your cheeks, the glassy look in your eyes, the way your chest rises and falls in uneven breaths.

"You’re so beautiful like this," he murmurs, his voice thick with desire.

You try to respond, but your throat feels tight, words stuck somewhere between your mind and your lips. Instead, you reach out, fingers brushing against his forearm, grounding yourself in the solid warmth of him.

"Spencer..." you begin, unsure of what to say, unsure of anything except how desperately you want him.

He doesn’t let you finish. Instead, his hands move to your waist, and with a gentle but insistent tug, he lifts you slightly, repositioning you beneath him. His body hovers over yours, the heat of his skin radiating through the thin barrier of his clothes.

"You don’t have to say anything," he says softly, his hand brushing a strand of hair from your face. "I already know."

The weight of his words settles over you, both comforting and electrifying. He leans in again, his lips trailing down your neck, leaving a path of heat in their wake. His teeth graze your collarbone, a sharp contrast to the soft press of his mouth.

As his hands roam, exploring every curve, every dip of your body, you become acutely aware of how much fabric still separates you. Your fingers find the hem of his shirt, tugging at it in silent insistence.

"Impatient, are we?" he teases, sitting back on his heels to strip off the offending garment.

Your breath catches as his chest is revealed, the lean lines of muscle and pale skin making your heart race all over again. He’s beautiful in a way that feels almost unfair, every inch of him carved with a subtle elegance that’s uniquely his.

"Better?" he asks, a glint of amusement in his eyes.

You nod, your hands already reaching for him, pulling him back down until his weight presses into you. His jeans are rough against your bare skin, the contrast only heightening the ache pooling low in your belly.

"So so good," you breathe, your voice trembling with a mix of need and hesitation.

He pauses, his forehead resting against yours. "Are you okay?"

The genuine concern in his tone makes your chest tighten. You nod quickly, your hands moving to his hips in an effort to pull him closer. "I want this. I want you."

That’s all the encouragement he needs. His lips crash against yours, the kiss deeper, hungrier this time. His hands move between your bodies, fumbling with the button of his jeans. You hear the faint rasp of the zipper, and then he’s kicking them off, the denim landing somewhere on the floor.

When he presses against you again, the only thing separating you now is the thin fabric of his boxers. You can feel him, hard and insistent, and the knowledge of what’s about to happen sends a shiver down your spine.

"Are you sure?" he asks, his voice softer now, his eyes searching yours for any sign of hesitation.

"Yes," you whisper, your hands tangling in his hair as you pull him down for another kiss. "Please, Spencer."

He groans against your mouth, the sound low and guttural, as though the restraint it takes to hold back is almost too much. But he doesn’t rush. Instead, he takes his time, his hands trailing down your sides, his lips mapping every inch of your skin.

"God," he breathes, his eyes dark as they drink you in. "You’re perfect."

His words make you blush, but you can’t bring yourself to look away. There’s something intoxicating about the way he’s looking at you, like you’re the only thing in the world that matters.

He leans down, his lips brushing against your ear. "Tell me if it’s too much," he whispers, his voice sending a shiver down your spine.

"I will," you promise, your hands clutching at his shoulders.

Slowly, he shifts, the tip of him pressing against your entrance. Your breath catches, your body tense with anticipation.

"Relax," he murmurs, his hand soothing over your hip. "I’ve got you."

The reassurance in his voice helps, and you force yourself to take a deep breath as he begins to push in. The stretch is intense, a mixture of discomfort and pleasure that leaves you gasping.

"That’s it," he whispers, his lips brushing against your temple. "You’re doing so well, baby."

When he’s fully seated inside you, he stills, giving you a moment to adjust. His forehead rests against yours, his breath ragged, his hands gripping your hips as though anchoring himself.

"Tell me when," he says, his voice strained with the effort of holding back.

You take a moment to catch your breath, your body adjusting to the sensation of him filling you completely. When the discomfort fades, replaced by a deep, aching need, you nod. "Now."

He starts to move, slow and deliberate at first, his strokes measured as he watches your face for any sign of discomfort. But as your moans grow louder, your nails digging into his shoulders, he picks up the pace, his movements becoming more urgent, more desperate.

The pleasure builds quickly, coiling low in your belly until it feels like you’re on the verge of breaking apart. His name falls from your lips in a breathless chant, and he responds with a groan, his hands tightening on your hips.

"Come for me," he whispers, his voice rough, his movements relentless.

And you do. The orgasm rips through you, leaving you trembling and gasping as he chases his own release. When he finally follows, his body shuddering above you, it’s with your name on his lips, his voice thick with reverence.

Spencer collapses onto you, his weight warm and grounding as you both struggle to catch your breath. For a moment, the room is silent, save for the sound of your mingled breathing. His face is buried in the crook of your neck, and you feel the soft press of his lips against your skin, a tender contrast to the intensity you’ve just shared.

You run your fingers through his messy hair, the strands damp with sweat. He hums softly, nuzzling closer, as though reluctant to put any distance between you.

"You okay?" he murmurs, his voice muffled against your neck.

You nod, though the motion feels feeble with the way your body is still trembling. "Yeah," you whisper, your voice hoarse. "More than okay."

He pulls back slightly, just enough to look at you. His brown eyes are warm, searching your face with a softness that makes your chest ache. "You’re incredible," he says, brushing a thumb over your cheek.

Heat rises to your face again, and you can’t help but laugh lightly. "You’re not so bad yourself, Doctor Reid."

His lips twitch into a shy smile, but the teasing glint in your tone isn’t lost on him. "Not bad?" he repeats, arching an eyebrow. "I’ll take that as a challenge to improve."

The playful remark sends a flutter through your chest, and you swat at his arm. "Don’t push your luck," you say, but the grin tugging at your lips betrays you.

Spencer leans down, capturing your mouth in a kiss that’s slow and unhurried, as though savoring every second. It’s a stark contrast to the passion you’d shared just moments ago, but it feels just as consuming.

When he finally pulls away, he shifts to lie beside you, his arm looping around your waist to pull you close. You nestle into his chest, the steady beat of his heart beneath your ear a soothing rhythm.

You smile against his skin, feeling a warmth settle over you that has nothing to do with the lingering heat of your encounter. The weight of reality begins to creep back in—the uncertainty of what comes next, the implications of what you’ve just done—but in this moment, you let it all fade away.

Spencer’s hand moves in gentle circles on your back, lulling you into a state of peace. "For the record," he says softly, his voice tinged with a mix of humor and sincerity, "this was way better than the video."

You laugh, a sound that feels lighter than you’ve been in weeks, and tilt your head to look up at him. "Good," you reply, resting your chin on his chest. "Because I don’t think I’ll ever look at a screen the same way again."

He smiles down at you, his fingers brushing over your hair in a soothing rhythm. "Good," he echoes, his voice filled with a possessiveness that sends a thrill down your spine.

As exhaustion begins to creep in, your eyes grow heavy, and you let yourself relax completely against him. For the first time in what feels like forever, you feel safe, desired, and completely content.

[natandacat]

For s3 i either want armand to be lost in the fog absolutely no contact whatsoever with any of the cast (potentially they could do something fun by putting him in his suicide attempt era now and hes currently somewhere doing his thing with sybelle & benji) OR i want him to be fucking everyone but like. In secret.

Louis is fucking armand bc of bad divorce decisions and bc its somehow a better idea than fucking lestat right now (aaaand he kinda accidentally called daniel claudia during his early fledgling craze so hes forbidding himself from fucking him until that starts making sense). Also the sex was real good for 74 years and fucking around is a bit too san francisco for his taste so as long as he doesnt think about it too much this is a good arrangement. Armand is NOT allowed to call him maître or to mention anything serious at all though. The longest sentence they say to each other is like "take off your clothes" and thats IT.

Lestat is fucking armand bc louis wont fuck him and armand is looking reaaaally dishevelled these days and its activating his obsession with dolling him up. Lestat gets to give him long scented baths every time he shows up grimmier than the last and dress him up in whatever high fashion garments hes got in his closet that armand can make snide comments about -which they both enjoy as old snobs. Also gabrielle might be more around bc of the akasha business so shes on his mind a lot and armand is always eager to indulge his mommy kink as a way to one-up gabrielle.

Daniel is fucking armand but armand does wipe his mind about it bc he still wants to do the whole absent father thing as a misplaced act of what he believes is kindness but also hes very lonely and he cant help but indulge in the fantasy of a fledgling who wants him around (which is kinda real by daniel molloy standards but armand is convinced that he knows best and daniel hates him. Which is true but daniel kinda just needs like an apology and to scream at him for 3 uninterrumpted days which armand cannot comprehend for now)

None of them are aware that everyone else is fucking armand so when they meet theyre all like "ah yes armand... havent heard of him... yeah its been years..." when they just got their backs blown out like 2 hours ago

[giveheavensomehell]

breakfast in bed .

⤷ matthew sturniolo .

summary — bsf .ᐟ matt jerking off while he thought you were asleep right next to him during a sleepover + a surprise at the end.

warnings — matt being an actual perv i guess ; guilt tripping (idk?) ; pet names (sweetheart, etc) ; making you clean him up !

It was an incredibly stupid idea, and Matt knew it very well.

You were peacefully snuggled up in your best friend's arms, sleeping oh-so cozily with your cheek on his chest and your hand splayed out over his sternum area. He blamed your stupid, touchy nature for being the cause of his painfully hard morning wood, when in reality, it's just him and his mind — conjuring up the filthiest fantasies in his dreamland. All about you.

The brunette slowly pulled his pajama bottoms down, just barely enough for him to get out his aching cock from the confines of his boxers. He spits in his hand, the other arm wrapped around your sleeping self, him hissing as the cold, crisp morning air blew over his leaking cock. With a shaky hand, Matt guides his spit-lubed palm to his dick, wrapping his fingers around the sensitive flesh. He bites his lip to stifle a moan, slowly stroking himself as he squeezes his leaking tip more firmly, whining at how good it felt.

The sudden squeeze, even if he was the one doing it, caused his breath to hitch in his throat. He freezes, his heart pounding in his chest as he realizes the intimate position he's in. His cock throbs in his hand, the pleasure making even more pre-cum drool from the slit of his veiny, red-tipped cockhead.

"Matt?" you groaned, half asleep as your eyes fluttered open. The early morning sunlight peeked through the cracks of the window blinds, perfectly illuminating what Matt was doing. His eyes widen as he looks down at you, caught between a stunned-state panic, and the need to keep going. "Shh," he whispers hoarsely, his hand still slowly pumping his dick. "Go back to sleep, sweetheart." "Are you... jerking off?" you furrowed your brows, your eyes flitting to his cock as he started jerking himself off again.

Matt's face turns beet red with embarrassment as he realizes you're fully awake now. "I-I can explain," he stammers, his hand stilling on his dick. "I didn't mean for this to happen. I was just so... so fucking horny." he admits. "Wet dream or morning wood?" you asked the cause of his predicament with a yawn, as if this was the most normal thing for best friends. "Both?" Matt offers weakly, his face contorting with a cringe. "Look, can we please not make this a big deal? It's just a boner, okay? Guys get them all the time." "I'm not making a big deal." you assured the brunette, sighing as you laid and watched.

Matt hesitates briefly before resuming his slow strokes, eyes darting nervously to ensure you're not too freaked out by what he was doing. His breath grows more ragged as he loses himself in the act, pre-cum steadily dripping onto his stomach. "Did I..." he mutters, realizing you're watching him stroke his cock. "Do you... do you want to watch?" he asks in a throaty whisper, his strokes becoming faster under your gaze. His free hand slowly drifts down to cup his balls, rolling them gently.

You sleepily and silently nodded, your hand sliding down to his on his balls. The boy's eyes widen in surprise, but he doesn't pull away from your touch. Instead, he adjusts his hand to let yours join his, guiding you to help him play with him. His breathing grows heavier, chest rising and falling rapidly against your cheek. Your eyelids were heavy, threatening to flutter shut as you gently rolled his balls in your hand. Your thumb even slowly started rubbing up and down, about an inch from where his sack started, on the base of his cock. Tracing over the singular most prominent vein.

A low, guttural moan escapes his lips as your thumb traces the vein on his shaft. His hips buck slightly, seeking more friction. "Fuck, that feels good," he murmurs, his hand covering yours to press it more firmly against his balls. You squeezed his balls a little bit harder, feeling them contract in your hand. Matt's back arches as you squeeze him, his moans growing louder and more desperate. "Shit, shit, shit..." he chants, his dick throbbing in his hand as he pumps it furiously, pre-cum dripping in steady streams onto his stomach.

"I'm gonna..." Matt's body tenses, his hand squeezing your own as he reaches his climax. With a loud groan, he starts shooting thick, white ropes of cum all over his stomach and chest, his hand continuing to pump his dick as he rides out his orgasm. "Fuuuck!"

You looked up at him, bringing your hand off his balls after he was done cumming. Your eyes flickered from his to his tummy, looking at the puddle of cum, then back into his eyes. Matt's chest heaved as he tries to catch his breath, his eyes still closed as he savors the aftermath of his orgasm. When he finally opens them, he's greeted with your gaze staring at the cum on his stomach. He follows your line of sight, a sheepish grin spreading across his face.

Matt laughs softly at your expression, running a hand through his messy hair. "I swear, I wasn't planning on giving you a free show this morning," he teases, trying to lighten the mood. He glances down at the cum on his stomach again, a thought occurring to him. "But, since you're already awake and all..." he says, a mischievous glint in his eye, "why don't you help me clean this up?" He gestures to the cum on his stomach, a smirk playing on his lips. You sat up next to him, your eyes wide as he said that. "Uhm... excuse me?" the awkward laugh that left your lips only emphasized the absurdity of it all.

He watches you sit up, his smirk growing wider. "With your tongue," he says casually, as if it's the most normal thing in the world. He stretches a bit, resting back his elbows as he presented his cum-coated stomach to you. Matt looks at you expectantly, his stomach still presented for your supposed cleaning duties. "Come on, it's not that weird," he says with a shrug. "We're best friends, and you just watched me jerk off."

"So, as a repayment for me watching you jerk off... I should lick up your cum?" you scoffed out a dry laugh, rolling your eyes at him. "Riiiight." His grin grows even wider at your skeptical response. "Pretty much, yeah," he says, his tone completely serious. "It's only fair, considering you got a free show." He leans back, settling comfortably into the pillows and waiting for you to make your move.

You held your hair out of your face and out of your way, gently starting to lick and slurp up his cum. Matt watches with a mix of amusement and mild surprise as you lean down and start licking up his cum. He hadn't expected you to actually do it, but he's not complaining. He lets out a soft sigh of contentment as you clean him up, your tongue moving efficiently to gather up every last drop. You stopped when he was spotless, sitting back upright and looking down into his eyes as he laid there.

He looks up at you with a strange expression on his face, his eyes locked onto yours. He swallows hard, feeling an odd sensation in his stomach at the way you're looking down at him. He breaks eye contact briefly to look at his now clean stomach, then back up at you. "I was more weirded out by licking your tummy, by the way." you joked, hoping to ease the awkward, but most definitely sexually charged tension.

The brunette lets out a soft laugh, his face relaxing into a more familiar expression. "Well, I hope you at the very least enjoyed the breakfast in bed," he says, sitting up fully, wiping his hands on his on the messy bedsheet beneath him. "sweetheart."

taglist:

@hearts4werka , @sweetshuga , @whore4mattsturniolo , @submattsgf , @sagesturns , @beela696969 , @sturniolo04 , @nick-stuxniolos-hg , @ariieeesworld , @sturnl0ve , @tfbnny , @sturniolosbabydoll , @coquettechris , @oreocheescake-12 , @k-312-xx , @sturniqloo , @middlepartmatt , @shoo-00 , @bigtettybich69 .

if anyone else would like to be added as well !! click here :)

[cherie-doll]

i hope the day is good for you 🫶🏻 (english is not my first language) can you please write a story with cod men, about what would they do when the reader doesnt make it home from the mission - like they are waiting at home for her but she's dead.

thx for submitting love <33

𓆩♡𓆪 Headcanon: They Waited For You

౨ৎ Price, Ghost, Soap, Gaz, Roach, Alejandro, Rudy, Phillip Graves, Makarov, Keegan, König, Horangi, Nikto

Price

He didn't believe it at first, there was just no way... he immediately got to verifying all his sources, even went down to talk to the other soldiers who had been a part of your team

You were supposed to come home, he expected you to come back to him, safe and sound like always but instead of falling asleep and exhausted in his arms like you should've been by tonight, your corpse was out there somewhere missing his embrace

He thought of how he could've prevented this from happening, yes he still blamed himself for anything bad that happened to you despite it not being in his hands, maybe if he could've kept you from going, why did you even feel the need to continue doing this?

There was no one else he cared for as much as he did for you, which truly said a lot of your relationship, but since he met you he felt an overwhelming urge to show love like he'd never done before, nothing else on earth deserved this dedication like you did

He deteriorated rather quickly, the mornings became grim and he couldn't bear to see the sun setting without thinking of how much you loved letting the rays caress your arms and let your eyes take in that golden light, you looked so beautiful in those moments

Ghost

Since he met you, there was finally a stage in his life he could think of purely, sure the relationship wasn't perfect, but this was something he could be reminded of and he didn't have to fight to keep it hidden in the back of his mind, he let the memories emerge to the surface and ponder about them

It had been something pleasant but it had been ripped out of his hands far sooner than he would've wanted, his fantasy that had become a corrupted reality, it makes him want to die, badly, but he always found a way to survive the deadliest situations, somehow he always did; as if he was cursed with immortality

But this? He felt no desperation urging him to dig out of the hole he was sinking into, the walls closing in on him from all sides and he made no effort to push it away, it felt sort of relieving being cramped and paralyzed since he couldn't see the path ahead of him, with you it had become so obvious and clear what he wanted but now there was nothing worth moving towards

Did life always want something from him? Just when he thought he lost everything he could lose, there was always something else being pried out of him, it was painful because it was forcefully taken away just when he was getting attached, when there was no foreseeable evil trying to destroy him there was some good, and you had been the best unexpected thing in his life

Soap

You were like an illusion he had always dreamed of and finally were achieved, a life so dreamy and ideal he thought would never be in his reach, but he had been permitted to have it for a short while with you

Within your time together a love so beautiful had bloomed, it was sweet how sublime it had felt, you had been youthful, still beaming with so much life within you but tragically cut short, those years had gone and went unused

He couldn't find the sense within him to comprehend why it had to be you, your death had been like a cold slap to the face, he had once again become aware of the disheartening reality he lived in, that nothing was secure nor did everything stay the same forever

Well, he knew about the forever part, but did it have to come so soon? He had to gather the strength within him to continue forward and he wasn't even sure of that, there was still so much left unsaid, so much still to be done, and how frustrated he was that it would all be forgotten and left unfulfilled

A sadness like no other would coat his existence, swallow him up and change him beyond recognition, his mind would be invaded by memories of you that will replay until they burned and ceased to exist... the day he ceased to exist

Gaz

All those days that he had spent with you had been the most fulfilling days he had ever experienced, he could remember the warmth of your hand, the weight of your body asleep next to him on the mattress, the security knowing you valued his affection and returned it

He truly felt the happiest with you and he wished to be encased in that happiness forever, but how naive it was of him to think it was possible for even a second, life was always moving and throwing hurdles at us that seem impossible to avoid, it's only a matter of time misfortunes come to us all

By simply contemplating and reminiscing, he felt grief beyond help and any consolation couldn't do much for him, wistful memories came to him and he could not sleep at night, all they did was leave a dark imprint on his mind

His caring nature did not change, he thought with time he could heal and learn to move on, but some things never change, and a sore spot still brings pain when pressed too hard, he would mull over this no matter how painful it was to do so

How he misses to hold you in this moment and kiss you

Roach

The news of your death came like a hard blow to his face, and he was left clutching his chest, eyes watering with tears as he desperately tried to cling onto some comforting memory in his mind

Restlessness follows immediately, even at night sleep does not come to him no matter what he does, the memories you shared seemed to tear him apart rather than anything help him, but he didn't want to forget you either

He knew he couldn't get you back and he had lost you forever in this life, panting and gasping he would awaken from his nightmares, the little sleep he got would do nothing to comfort him, and you weren't there to comfort him, to silently hold nor ease with your voice in his ear

His mind wanted to deceive his heart, make him believe you were somewhere far away but still thinking of him, that he could close his eyes and imaging resting his head on your shoulders, basking in serenity as he lost himself in the waves that lulled him

Alejandro

He was overtaken by bitterness and anger, his better judgement was clouded far beyond reason at the most valuable treasure in his life forever gone, the feeling of longing would become a hole he'd spend his days trying to fill with wrongful acts

All he wanted and needed was your touch to remind him reality was there and not as cruel as he thought, you had still met and loved in your time and nothing could take away what had already been done, he could live blissfully in life knowing you had known each other

But could he be satisfied with that? He could strongly feel the ties that bound you together still tug at his heart, and every year he remembered you, would set an altar for you and fill it with what were your favorite foods and things

He would stare at your imagine, remembering how he once had kissed those lips, stared into your sparkling eyes that watched him endearingly, your face he had held within his hands...

He could never have that back

Rudy

He missed delicately tracing your face, his fingertip raising softly over every curve and line, your silhouette against the wall when you rose that morning, early so you could still say your goodbyes to him and tell him to expect you back very soon, this one wouldn't be too long you said

You had left him a content man, he'd sit around the house and wait, he would take it easy these days because you'd be back soon, but he wasn't ready to withstand the tumult he'd find himself in

His heart had become haggard in the days following your death, he had absorbed every bit of warmth and clung to the last signs that you had left behind, he wished he had been there, to ease your last painful moments before death, how much did that train of thought torment him, day and night it ran through his mind

In sleep, he dreamt of terrible ways you had encountered death, surely, you didn't have a peaceful one, you were healthy and fit to make it, something terrible must have happened but no matter how much he wished to know the cause of your death it wasn't given, most likely for the best to remain unknown

Phillip Graves

He often boasted of having you in his life, it was such a fortunate occurrence when you met that he didn't think it was entirely a coincidence, he loved doting on you and hold you in his arms knowing you were there for him

You had already confirmed the date of your return, but that day came and passed and there was no sign of you, worse yet no message or word had been heard on your part, it was he who had to dig and find out that you had been KIA

It felt like a strong blow to his chest to have you ripped away from him, he knew the harsh reality and danger he was constantly under, he just never imagined it would get to you one day

You shouldn't have paid for his sins or errors, he wished you had stayed out of the battle, but you had your own life to carve out and ultimately it had been your decision

Much time would have to pass before he'd be able to say your name, for the longest time he'd whisper it, as if afraid it'd shatter his reality even more, staying in the air reminding him of what he lost

Makarov

You were forever gone from his grasp, how was he to cope with that? The fire that had warmed his insides, making every act of his be out of love for you suddenly halted, reduced to nothing but ashes and now he was left to sweep the heaps of it

The emptiness growing and knowing there wasn't a piece to fit or make him whole again like you, you were a unique piece, the edges weren't cut with delicacy that an experienced hand could replicate, there wasn't a mold to follow to shape something else into you

You sprung out of chaos and spontaneity with ease, there was a lightheartedness you brought out in him that brought out the best in him, all of it offered to you who didn't greedily take but lovingly returned

He didn't want to believe someone like you could just be taken away from him and have nothing done about it, just when he thought he could be tender he'd return to his old ways, the resentment stronger than ever and tied to his heart, obscuring and consuming him

Keegan

How despairing did this turn out for him, never had he imagined he'd lose you, all that time he had spent training with you, preparing for when the worst could happen and each time you had managed to slip away, always

Except this time you weren't fast enough, he knew those shoulders held up a levelheaded person, who confidently calculated their every move, it was unfair you had been taken

His brows are now furrowed, thinking this just has to be some sort of protocol you're following, faking a death isn't all that uncommon, maybe you were still alive out there, hiding away somewhere for your safety, each day he held the pitiful hope that you'd come back to him, then he'd nurse your injuries and help you stand back up

But moons waxed and waned and you didn't appear, and he couldn't hold the fragments of you close to his heart if you wouldn't be around to reignite them and make them come true again

His palm that had curled, clutching the remnants loosed and he had to give up that foolish dream and accept reality as it was being presented

König

Was it cruel if he wished it was you who had received the news instead of him? He thought it would have been that way, he often joked about the benefits you'd get when he passed, it wasn't supposed to be you to leave earlier than him

Relaxed he was sitting in the armchair until he received the terrible news, his breaths became desperate as he tried to get air into his lungs, he wanted to march down there to the field himself to collect you, to not believe it just yet

Maybe you'd be down there, hiding away in some corner like the sly fox you were and say you had managed to dodge the bullet this time

But he was disappointed with the outcome of things, he hated it when things didn't follow the path he set for them but no one could have controlled the outcome of this course, it had left a profound wound in his heart he wasn't sure he'd be able to heal from

You had parted without saying your goodbyes and now he wouldn't be able to live with that, to live longer still with you in the back of his mind

Horangi

He hated anything that brought the slightest trace of despair, and he dealt horribly with it, he ran on pure serendipity but now he couldn't count on that, was it by being at the wrong place and time you had been one of the lives lost, the most important one to him

He felt the urge to go back to his old ways of numbing out the pain, but he pushed that temptation away, it would only drain his money and everything he had worked for go to waste, he knew you wouldn't have wanted that for him and right now he just wished to keep the traces of you very much alive and present

He wanted to go about his days as if you were still there, the flower you planted, he tried to keep it alive and water it, the way you left your stuff around the house, that way it was easier to transport himself to a time when you were there with him, still at home

The people of the past are hard to forget but he didn't mind, he faced the situation with more determination than he himself expected, he was surprised at the resolve he had come up with

He had loved without regret, and with every passing day he'd be closer to reuniting with you again

Nikto

The only sound occupying the complete silence is the static in his mind, he's just numb, doesn't know what to do, what he should do with whatever emotions he's trying to detect, he must feel something

He was just delivered the worst news of his life, he should be breaking down and crying but he can barely even process the fact that you really are gone, he looses his train of thought every five seconds and can only stare forward as if in a trance he's unable to escape out of

He feels the long seconds drag by but he can't get up from his fixed spot on the chair, it's like a knife has been plunged into his side and pulled out, leaving the gaping wound pulsating softly, but he can barely hear his flesh scream out in pain, he can only feel the blood oozing out, staining his clothes and falling to the floor in droplets as he actively ignores it

He is hurt but can only clutch at it, he can't get up, feels far too comfortable sitting on this kitchen chair staring forward to the wall, elbows resting on his knees

[occasionalsnippets]

I’m curious about Tim and MC’s relationship.

Like, is Tim grateful for the fact that MC took care of him?

Does he know that MC took his shifts as Robin so he wouldn’t deal with B’s bad days/nights?

Does he know that Jack and Janet didn’t really like MC?

How much does he resent Jack and Janet?

How does he bond/show his love for his sibling?

Also, how would the members of the Batfam bond with MC? (Before and After Damian snitched)

And what do the Batfam think of MC?

- Storm.Anon

Focusing on just Tim for this! Send another ask for other Batfam members owo because I do want to individually dig into each relationship.

Taglist: @dragondevinity, @lonely-star2044, @sheep-from-rad, @ilxandra, @thethingwiththefeathers, @star-wars-lycanwing-bat, @sackofsadstuff, @zonked-times, @paastaboi, @venfia, @fantasy-angelo, @linaisadream, @shirp-collector-of-fixations

Their relationship is both less complicated and more complicated than it should be. On one hand, you’re Tim's older sister-caretaker-parental figure-best friend- who can’t be categorized neatly into any singular category. On the other hand, none of those categories matter when you are the person he trusts more than anyone else in the world. More than he trusts himself.

Your parents do not hate you. You were an accident (huge, immensely big, giant accident) but they do care for you in some nebulous, difficult to discern, rich-people kind of way. They give you all the money you could want. They teach you the rules of high society and how to deal with the company. They try. Sometimes.

In many ways, you are their protege and student before a lot of things but you are still your mother’s child. A reflection of Janet Drake in every way that matters with a mind like a steel trap and a mouth that murmurs sweet poison. It is one of the main things Tim notes as a child when he thinks of you and mother.

The biggest mark against your parents, really, is the neglect. Their children weren’t their number one priority and both you and Tim knew. They could be worse. They could be better. C+ parenting all around.

Tim’s view on Jack and Janet are a bit fickle? Inconsistent? Complicated? He had wished for a very long time when he was younger for them to come home more often but he never really processed the whole situation until you forced everyone to get therapy. There’s quiet sadness in his feelings about his parents but not really resentment, not like you.

Not that those feelings have anywhere to go anymore. Both of you still grieved during their funerals.

Tim gives you gifts on mother and father's day and overtime the message written in the cards attached get longer and sillier. He still remembers the stillness of your initial reaction when he first presented you with a card.

He hadn't really noticed how much you did behind the scenes until he got older and realized you were internalizing a hell of a lot of things. His early days of existence are marked by your ever encompassing presence in his life. His parents leave. You stay. You always stay even as he digs himself into the pit that is becoming Robin.

He can always rely on you. If there is any truth in his life then it is that you will always be there for him. So, when you tell him with dark shadows cast upon your face that he shouldn't go out as Robin tonight, he accepts with minor protests.

You keep detailed reports on patrol to keep everyone updated when you're filling in as Robin and the ones from Tim's early days are... rough. Tim reads them because of course he does, and talks with you about it. A lot. You insist that he shouldn't have to deal with Batman because Tim is like 13 and Tim keeps saying that he chose this. So, the two of you compromise on it. Teamwork makes the dream work, right?

No one else really reads the old patrol reports. What happens during the early days stays between you and Tim and Bruce. Tim thinks Bruce still feels guilty about it, about both him and you.

Tim shows affection for you the same way you show affection. He'll go to company meetings in your stead. He learns to cook and bring meals to you when you're too busy. He orders materials for your hobbies whenever he notices you're running out.

Your relationship is not immune to normal sibling shenanigans though. You yell, you fight, he stands a centimetre away from the entrance of your room for no apparent reason, the two of you want to kill each other sometimes because "mother and father always liked you better-" and "I never wanted to raise you-"

You and Tim are so crazily co-dependent even if it isn't obvious. You're a bit less dependent than he is but you've also revolved your life around him and everything you do is basically for him so how true that statement is can be debated.

Sometimes you think you need him in order to be allowed to exist. There is no role for you except in reference to him, to your little brother who you'd give the world to.

Tim literally doesn't know how he'd survive or live without you. You taught him unconditional love. You're his favourite person. You've always protected him. He can't fathom the idea of existing without you.

You're impossible to separate from him and him from you. Aren't the two of you one and the same? Where does one end and the other begin? Who is he if not a reflection of you and who you raised him to be?

Alsjfjak so yeah. The Siblings. Them.

[anastasia12]

lower your inhibitions

lower your inhibitions ; simon “ghost” riley.

You love Simon, you really do.

How could you not? How could you not fall for him? He’s the one who rescued you from a fate worse than death, the one who washes your body for you even though the both of you know that you’re fully capable of showering alone (he loves you so much, he’s constantly craving to touch you in any way he can), the one who took apart one of his honorary medals for his services and melted it down so it could be manipulated and turned into the band on your engagement ring.

(Did you know that the medal he used is the one he got from the mission where you two first met, the fateful mission where he both saved and changed your whole entire life?)

And you know that Simon would do absolutely anything for you. He whispers it to you in the dead of night, holding you so close to his chest like he’s scared you’ll disappear if he doesn’t. He lets you be the one who removes his mask, and if he can do something so intimately vulnerable, then you suppose you can do this for him.

This is giving into one of his latest fantasies, one that he’s been hinting at for quite some time now.

You know that his line of work is difficult at best and life-threatening all the time. You know that he bears a heavy burden on his shoulders — it’s not just his weaponry and equipment that weighs him down, but the fact that so many lives are resting in his hands. You do your best to relieve him of any stress when he gets home: a warm meal waiting for him, fresh clothes set out for him to change into, long nights where you spend all your time and energy determined to give him the reward he deserves for being a hero.

He mentions it in passing, usually when you’re so far gone in the throes of pleasure that you don’t even consciously acknowledge his little comments. Sneaky bastard; he’s been making sure it stays ingrained in your subconscious, though.

Baby, I could spend forever here. You’re certain that’s what he was groaning out the last time you had spread your legs for him and allowed him to eagerly lap at your pussy. You’re not entirely too sure, though — the only thing you can clearly remember through the foggy haze of intense passion was the feeling of him pleasuring you with just his mouth and bringing you to climax on his tongue at least twice that night.

You can only imagine what he must have planned for you tonight.

You’re sure that Simon has an insane amount of stamina as a result of his work. The only thing keeping you, his little soon-to-be housewife, still alive from all of these little entanglements is the fact that you love him enough to do anything he asks of you. So when he tells you that the only thing that’ll help him take his mind off of his latest assignment is to have you sitting on his face, you oblige.

According to him, this is a foolproof plan because only an idiot would be thinking about something else when he’s got the prettiest pussy in the world on top of him.

You could feel your face heating up at his vulgar compliment, but you’re not entirely innocent. The heat was building up towards the lower half of your body after that comment, too.

And now you find yourself nervously straddling your fiance, looking into his eyes.

“You know where you need to be, pretty girl,” His voice is already thick with arousal, and you recognize that hungry glint in his eyes. You pray to anyone out there who’s listening to pretty please give you the strength to survive tonight.

“B-but Simon—” You’re whispering, even though this house is the only residence in the area. (Thank God for that; if the two of you had neighbors, they surely would have filed a noise complaint.)

“Yes, my love?” You can recognize the teasing tone in his voice, and you can hear the smirk he must be wearing on his face.

“How am I supposed to… You know, get on your face and let you do what you want when your mask is still on?”

His infamous balaclava with the skull design etched onto the fabric seems to taunt you. It doesn’t scare you, especially since you’re well aware of who the man behind the mask truly is, but you can’t quite figure out why he hasn’t taken it off yet.

“Oh. I didn’t tell you yet?” He has to be smiling underneath the mask because your reaction to his next words is enough to have him chuckling.

“I’m not eating you out ‘til you’re so wet for me that I can feel you dripping through the mask.”

You immediately freeze up, wondering if he truly means what he just said.

(It’s Simon; of course, he meant every word of it.)

“Sweetheart, I thought you were going to be a good girl for me tonight.” The disapproval he douses his words with isn’t real — you know he’s just trying to tease you because it’s what he loves to do. Still, you find yourself nodding your head and slowly but surely making your way up his resting body before you find yourself hovering uncertainly above his face.

You let out an adorable little yelp of surprise as he suddenly grips the back of your thighs and forces you down on his mask-covered face. For a man his size, the strength isn’t surprising, but it’s his stealth and dexterity that always catches you off guard.

“Can’t wait to taste you.” His voice sounds muffled now due to the pressure being applied to his mouth, and you can feel the slight movements of his mouth despite the thick fabric of his balaclava acting as a barrier between you and him. His eyes are already deepening with desire, and you swallow hard, knowing that it’ll please him if you truly give it your all. You’ve known him for what feels like forever, and you’re engaged to the man. There’s no more room for shyness to take root in this relationship.

It’s time for you to lower your inhibitions.

Your first movements are a bit uncertain, but his groan of appreciation acts as reassurance. You move back and forth slowly, carefully grinding against the mask, and occasionally, your clit will brush against the covered tip of his nose, only adding to your pleasure and allowing you to give into your depravity without worry.

“Just like that, love. You’re doing so well for me.” You can barely make out the words he’s saying, but you give him a shaky smile as you continue to grind against him, your hands finding purchase on the pillow he’s resting his head on. You grip it, trying to hold yourself steady as you continue to buck against him, your arousal practically leaking out of you, a constant stream of juices that is soaking through the fabric, leaving a distinct wet stain on the front of it.

Simon grins at a mission successfully accomplished. Not only can he feel your arousal through the mask, but you’re so soaked for him that he’s certain he can taste you already, too.

One strong hand grips your waist, pausing your jerky movements, and you look down, blinking and trying to ground yourself into reality. You watch as he uses his other hand to tear off the balaclava, tossing it somewhere on the floor of your shared bedroom.

His chin and lips are already shining just the slightest — just how wet for him are you? He gives you a cheeky grin, and you’re still so close to him that when he speaks, his lips brush against your slick folds.

“Don’t stop now, darling. You promised you’d sit on my face.”

He’s so close to helping you get rid of the ache in between your legs, and you find yourself lowering yourself fully, your soft thighs encasing his head, and your soaking cunt landing right on his mouth. You’re already leaking all the way down to his chin, and his groans of pleasure only serve to make you even wetter.

He can’t speak right now; not when he’s too occupied with the meal you’ve so generously decided to grace him with. The room is filled with the obscene sounds of him lapping up everything you’re spilling out.

His tongue slides through your entrance with ease, and you moan in ecstasy, throwing your head back as you start to instinctually buck against his face, practically riding his tongue.

He’s sucking up your arousal, eager to please you but also insanely happy at the position he’s finally in. This is exactly what he needed: pure, unadulterated access to your pussy. Your thighs are surrounding him, and he uses both hands to squeeze harshly at your ass. The slight pain only makes you squeal and jerk up just the slightest, but he growls before forcing you back down on his face, right where you belong.

The ministrations of his tongue are entirely too much. The noises the two of you are making sounds as if the two of you are filming a porno, and you know you can’t last much longer.

Using both of your hands, your fingers curl into the thick locks of his hair, tugging just enough to him groan against your pussy, and you mewl out his name as you cum all over his face.

Your body feels like jelly; this isn’t the first time that Simon has fucked you boneless before, but this orgasm was intense. You think you can still feel some aftershocks of it, and you moan out weakly as you struggle to remain in your seated position on his face.

He’s still lapping everything up, his tongue still exploring every centimeter of yourself you have to offer him. After that climax, your poor pussy is feeling too sensitive, and every time he slightly moves his head, his nose continues to bump against your clit. You’re ultra-aware of every movement of his, extra susceptible to every flick of his tongue and the pleasure is only painfully heightened. You’re too weak to fight him off and while giving in will surely leave you unable to leave the bed all day tomorrow, you can’t find it in yourself to ask him to stop.

“Si-mon.” You whine out his name, but it comes out garbled and broken. Your mind doesn’t know how to react to the constant pleasure he’s inflicting on you and your sensitive little cunt. Your body, though, is eager to receive more of what he has to offer. It’s evident in the way your hole starts to clench around nothing every time he teasingly withdraws his tongue to force you to beg him for more. Even though you feel like you’re unable to move, you still find enough strength left in you to grind against him, rubbing your pussy and spreading your slick all over his face before you cum once again, this one leaving you all the more disorientated.

His visage is a sight to behold: cheeks are flushed red, eyes wild and dark with desire, the lower half of his face stained with your cum and arousal. You should be embarrassed at what a mess you’ve made of your fiance, but he only licks his lips. His eyes almost roll back as he realizes the taste of you will forever be on his tastebuds.

“Taste so good, love.” He gasps out. His hair is messy from the way you’ve shamelessly tugged at his locks. “I need more. You gonna give it to me?”

You’re nodding, but he doesn’t even wait for your affirmation before forcing you down onto his mouth once again.

He wasn’t lying when he made the claim that he could live in between your legs forever. After tonight, you know you’re never going to deny him the chance to prove it, though.

comment if you want your @ in heree

[elriel-month]

Elriel Month 2025🌸🦇

Hi everyone!

We are so excited to present the official prompt descriptions for the fifth-ever ELRIEL MONTH!! Like the previous few years, we will have two prompts per week that center on different aspects and scenarios of the relationship between Elain and Azriel. We aim to foster a positive space for us to celebrate our favorite Seer and Shadowsinger. Remember to tag us (@elriel-month) to be featured on this page!

We cannot wait to celebrate with you! 🦇🌸💙🗡🌹

Follow us on:

Tumblr ✷ Twitter ✷ Instagram

🎨 Art: tpiola_ (IG) | Comm: bookishbiologist (IG)

Rules and bi-weekly prompts under the break!

RULES:

✷ Participation of each day/prompt is optional!

✷ Ideally, post your art/work on the week of the prompt. However, if you cannot post on time, post whenever you can.

✷ Elriel month will be across Tumblr, Twitter, and Instagram.

✷ If you want to be featured on this blog please tag @elriel-month in your posts so we can reblog them

✷ On Tumblr while posting your piece of work please use the following hashtags:  #elrielmonth #elrielmonth25 #elrielmonth2025

✷ No hate or slander towards other characters!

✷ Your submission can be a fanart, fanfics/oneshots, edits, gifset, moodboard, playlist - anything you deem acceptable.

✷ The final prompt is free choice - you can indulge your own prompt or Elriel fantasy!

✷ Be respectful of other people’s work. Do not repost without permission and credit.

Prompts

Death & the Maiden: May 1-4

In many ways, Elain and Azriel embody the "Death and the Maiden" trope: Elain personified as goodness and light, and Azriel as the broody, dark warrior surrounded by shadows. This prompt is all about exploring Elriel's light and dark aesthetic. How do you see this dynamic playing out?

🎨: jjflorentina (IG) | Comm: lunepapillons_ (IG) & gigiblodyn (twitter)

Star-Crossed: May 5-7

From the moment Rhys commanded Azriel to stay away from Elain, a great forbidden romance was born. Use this prompt to explore Elriel's star-crossed story: how do you see them defying fate (and their High Lord) to be together, despite the odds?

🎨: lacampanule (IG) | Comm: lazydaisyreads (IG)

Guilty as Sin: May 8-11

It wouldn't be an Elriel Month without an opportunity to explore our favorite couple's sexy sides. For this prompt, it's time to get spicy and highlight the chemistry between Elain and Azriel. Feel free to make things as NSFW as you'd like them to be!

🎨: artyventurer (IG) | Comm: emilysbookishtales (IG)

Free Will & True Love: May 12-14

Throughout the series, SJM emphasizes the importance of choice and free will - and this prompt is your chance to delve into how those things will play out for Elriel. What lengths will they go to choose each other? Will there be a grand "I choose you!" declaration?

🎨: eguardx (IG)| Comm: jasmineandshadows (IG) & purpleunicornc_ (IG)

The Eyes & Ears of the Night Court: May 15-18

With Elain's gifts as a Seer and Azriel's skills as the Spymaster, these two are quite literally the eyes and ears of the Night Court. Let's explore how Elain and Azriel's powers complement each other. Do you imagine them working together? Undertaking spy missions? Using their powers to help one another?

🎨: honeyypears (IG) | Comm: cassianfanclub_ (IG)

Fairytales: May 19-21

We certainly hope that Elain and Azriel have a fairytale romance in their future! For this prompt, indulge all your most whimsical, romantic ideas about Elriel. Maybe you want to explore a fairytale AU, or imagine them waltzing through a ballroom together - let your imagination run wild!

🎨: elainem97 (IG)

Peace & Quiet: May 22-25

As Feyre observes, Elain and Azriel find a peaceful refuge in each other. Use these days to explore Elriel's domestic life. How do you imagine their quiet moments at home? How do they spend their time together, and what hobbies do they share? What is their family life like?

🎨: adduani (IG) | Comm: elain_kingslayer (IG)

Visions of the Future: May 26-28

It's time to channel your inner Elain Archeron and make some predictions: what do you think the future has in store for Elriel? Now's your chance to share all your theories and predictions about how you see the future unfolding for these two lovebirds. The possibilities are endless!

🎨: lynx_illustration (IG) | Comm: duskcowboy_ (IG) & morganssecretgarden (IG)

Free Day: May 29-31

For the final days of Elriel Month, feel free to celebrate Prythian's prettiest couple however you see fit. There's only one rule for this prompt: show your love for Elriel. Beyond that, the sky's the limit!

🎨: salihace (IG) | Comm: lovelyfawnx (IG)

[transmasculinizing]

it frustrates me how some of the most iconic versions of batman are still by people who dont really care about the character and just like his aesthetic. snyder and nolan wanna empathize how cool and badass he is and thats fine but they try to make their movies way deeper than such surface level portrayals of batman should be. they like that hes dark and brooding but they dont go in depth on why hes like that. or they try to and fail. its not just about his parents dying its that he never healed from it. he didnt have the support system he needed to process his grief in a healthy way and was raised by an emotionally repressed ex military man who wouldnt let himself cross the line of employee and family. he learned not to show emotion outside anger. batmans stoicism isnt because hes badass, its a trauma response. the nolan movies treat batman not killing like its a moral superiority thing when thats not it at all. its what batman might occasionally tell himself it is but in reality its because if he starts he knows he wont be able to stop. he also has flaw of believing its like that for everyone but thats a whole other discussion. anyways not killing is in fact a mental block and its emotional because hes mentally ill. oh but we couldnt explore that because that would imply the guy were using for our toxic masculinity power fantasy is weak because he cant mentally handle something. its like.we want to hurt batman but we dont want him to feel anything about it other than maybe anger to show how tough and hypermasculine he is. this also correlates in why the live action batman movies dont want robin. they dont want batman to be a dad because thats not cool i guess. if you cant think of your batman comforting a crying child you didnt write batman though. i swear this obsession with not acknowledging that just because batman is bad at showing his emotions besides anger doesnt mean he doesnt have them has bled into the comics to. batman was literally a good dad to jason pre crisis but can you imagine nolans batman being a good dad? i cant personally. hes a man child. so now comics batman was shitty to jason when he was robin in order for batman to feel despair he needs to first feel love. his parents werent the only thing he loved. he loves his city, his friends, justice and doing whats right, his 2 major love interest and he absolutely loves his family im not saying all batman media needs to be a deep deconstruction of his psyche but if youre gonna focus on batman being 2 kool for emotions being badass rather than a result of his trauma dont pretend your movie is deeper than it actaually is

[beuxwhoyouare]

DILF Next Door

There's no better way to say this. The daddy next door is so fucking hot. I'm too chicken to ever muster up the courage to go next door and introduce myself. Every weekend, he graces me from my bedroom window with a view of him mowing the lawn shirtless.

It's a sight to behold and I wish I could just lick his salty sweat off him until he was clean. He deserves to be worshiped. The man is built like a GOD. I fell into the fantasy thinking about what his musk must smell like. My own hormones nearly fueling me to say fuck it and get semi-dressed to finally do it. I was gonna introduce myself no matter what....but fate had other plans. I was finishing getting ready when I felt something wet fall on me. I played it off but that was my fatal mistake. I was finishing brushing my teeth when all of a sudden my hand stopped mid-back and forth motioning.

My body began moving and inspecting itself as if it was foreign but I was no longer in control. Then a voice began speaking out loud.

"Hello earthling. My identifier is XE-039. I had overtaken command of your vessel and will now deploy you to my former sluglien vessel."

"Wait what do you mean?"

"This vessel is now under my control and we will spread our influence across this planet."

"Wait I can help you."

Panic overtook my common sense. How was I supposed to help when I couldn't even help myself?

"Can you aid in attaining vessels? That is the only objective we need assistance with?"

"Sure! Uh just describe to me how you take them over and we can go from there."

"We slugliens are gel based life forms that invade a species through an orifice and then put their essence in our old one before destroying them as we overtake their species."

"Perfect we earthlings love putting things in orifices. It's called being horny. Look I can show you if you take me next door. If you're going to put me in your old vessel I can try it out and show you how easy it can be."

"Hmmmmmm affirmative. Let's try this out. If you fail, you will perish."

The sluglien clunkily guided my body through the house as we arrived next door. He knocked the door and after a few minutes he arrived. Coated in light dusting of body hair and sweat, Scott answered the door in all his DILF-y glory. I tried to give the alien an express lesson on being flirty and asking to make out but before I could finish Scott began speaking.

"Hey dude, what's going on?"

"I uh, what are you doing at this point in time?"

"Well right now I'm talking to you but I just finished mowing the lawn but I was going to take a show-"

"Let's partake in the making out ceremony."

Before I could interject or Scott could even deny the advances, the sluglien placed my whole mouth over Scott's. The second he opened his mouth to protest, I knew it was my time. I used my new slug-like form to slide into Scott's mouth. Everything went dark and before I knew it my clenched closed eyes opened to see my former mouth on me.

"Dude that's so not right get off me."

I felt a knot in my new toned stomach and coughed up what must be the sluglien body. It was grey and reminiscent of other fluids humans make. It looked panicked and tried to run away but my former body quickly moved to squish it. When it lifted my shoe, the sluglien no longer moved.....did he just kill Scott?!

"That was very efficient. So we just do that until we take over this planet?"

"Well you can but there's definitely a more pleasurable way to do this."

"What is pleasure?"

Similar to the haste he just attacked Scott with. I pulled him inside the house and sat down at a chair from a nearby table. I guided him over and told him to begin feeling my up and down. I knew even if he didn't understand pleasure, my former body would get immediately horned up doing the one thing I always wanted to....worship Scott.

Curiosity clearly got the best of the sluglien in command of my body as his curiosity led him to quickly guide my hands further and further down my new strong torso. He inquisitively felt my warm tanned skin slightly exposed between my shorts and slinkily thin shirt. Excitedly yanking the shirt up.

One hand held the thin shirt up while the other rubbed over my furry torso. Slowly getting me riled up as I felt my new meat growing way thicker than mine ever did. Eventually he lifted the shirt off me and I let it happen.

The sluglien was braver than I ever was. Boldly rubbing his hand down my meaty slabs of pecs and rushing under my waistband eager to expose myself to both of us for the first time.

Eventually the sluglien stopped to my surprise. What was he doing? I never really noticed but I guess I was somewhat conventionally attractive. Watching my former body saunter in front of me was so sexy. I wanted to get up and make out but he pushed me back into the seat and began poking and prodding before immediately pulling my daddy meat out and sticking a finger in my mouth.

I had it. I whipped my former hand out of my mouth and guided the sluglien to the bedroom. Stripping of his clothes one piece at a time. Eventually I pushed him to lie down on the bed. Flexing for good measure as I picked up his legs.

My body always wanted this and I never believed I’d be the one to fulfill the dream in this position. I put my new meaty arms down and started stroking my thick rod. This was it as I felt it pulsing and hardening. I told the sluglien to breathe in and prepare for pleasure. I tried to go slow but I got too excited. Once I got close to entering pleasure hit me quickly. My former body began to wince from the pain I’m sure this tool was inflicting on it.

Soon those groans turned to moans. I was gonna make him have the best night he’d ever have. I’ve had fantasies about this and I was gonna make every single one come true…literally.

[live-laugh-lenney]

Can u pls write a smut where Arthur comes home after the worst in class episode in his little green suite, and maybe they roleplay or sumthing more vanilla

i'm telling you... there's something in the air right now because all these british youtubers are going through the peak of their lives right now in terms of how hot they're looking... don't tell me you don't agree. 👀 || WARNING: SMUT.||

"stay right there."

"pardon?"

"i need you to stay right there for a moment. don't move," she insists, holding a finger in his direction to keep him still, occupying the open doorway of arthur's en-suite bathroom and allowing her eyes to take in his appearance by dragging her vision up the figure dressed so elegantly in a suit coloured with a deep green material, "let me look at you for a minute."

"i'm confused," he hums out, hands on his hips and his elbows bent outwards, his eyebrows furrowing on his browline as he felt desperate for an answer, "what is happening?"

"don't be confused, babe," she shakes her head with a smirk on her lips, finally letting her eyes land on his face, "i just, i really like this look right now."

it dawned on him then, in the moment they finally made eye contact, that she was feeling a rather specific way towards him in the outfit he had worn for a video shoot that afternoon, his cheeks flushing a pink colour at how ravenous she seemed to look from where she had been stood in the doorway of his bathroom. her eyes had darkened, pupils large and black and overtaking the colours of her orbs, and she'd pulled her bottom lip between her teeth and she chewed hungrily on the flesh... all whilst refusing to tear her eyes away from his face.

"oh, you do, huh?"

"yeah, i really like it."

he cautiously took a step towards her and he was certain that he saw an intake of breath get caught in her throat, and the way her eyes widened at his movement had the depth of his stomach tingling, an urge to reach her quicker than he was planning to.

"don't take it off," she whispers softly, taking one large step to close the gap between them, his warm breath washing over her face and she felt her knees almost buckle beneath her, "keep it on. please."

his arms wrapped tight around her waist and he pulled her close to his front with her arms, out of pure instinct, joining around his neck, hands connecting at the nape of his neck and her fingers finding refuge in the hair at the back of his head. twisting the tips into the soft strands and pulling ever so gently on the tufts she had a hold of.

"someone's really in the mood today," he admits cheekily and she can't help but gulp thickly to his question, "did you miss me today?"

"miss you all the time you walk out the door," she says in reply, dragging her arms down his shoulders and loosening the tie that was still done to perfection around his neck, "but when you come back looking like this-"

"like what?"

he wanted to hear her say it. he wanted her to use her words. he just wanted to have clarification, to hear her verbally admit to him, that it was a turn-on for her to see him to handsomely dressed.

"arthur, please."

it was whiny, desperate, beautifully implorable and he could feel himself harden up in his boxers at the mere thought of being just brief minutes away from being deep inside her, having her mewl out and moan in pleasure, living a fantasy she'd never thought much into before. his fingers digging into her hips, his heart racing in his chest, tongue licking across his bottom lip at the thought of having her weak and reliant on him as she stood before him.

"tell me," he whispers softly, leaning his head down and much closer to her level, the tip of his nose brushing against her cheek as he spoke gently into her ear, "tell me how turned on you are. tell me how you want me to fuck you right now. tell me how you feel, lovie."

"i need you," her head tilts back and his eyes matched the exact same darkened look that she had in her eyes, moments ago, her hands pulling his head closer to hers and her lips brushed over his, "right now."

"right here?"

she nods quickly in response, "please."

his lips attached themselves to hers in a rough kiss, full of passion and hunger, overwhelmed by the desire to have her where she was so in need of him. his hands gave the tops of her thighs a pat, urging her to pull away from his lips and to jump up for a second, hands ready to catch her as her legs wrap around his waist and her ankles hook at the base of his back. immediately going back to having their lips dancing together with passion.

her back was soon against the mattress, body placed on the edge of the bed as he pulls away from her, standing above her.

"don't you dare take it off," she cries out breathlessly, shaking her head when she saw his fingers touch the buttons of the blazer, "don't, please."

"how am i supposed to-"

"just take your pants off," she digs her toes into the plump flesh of his covered bum and urges him to return to his previous position, "we don't need romance right now, arthur. i just need you. i want you."

the urgency in her voice, dripping with a desperate plea, had him eagerly throbbing behind the material of his trousers. fingers undoing the belt, followed by the button, followed by the zipper as he wiggles out of the waistband and lets the garment drop to his knees. her eyes wandering down his body, settling on his hardened cock hidden by his boxer shorts, pleading with her eyes to release what she was after.

he sprung into action, her head rolling back because she was always in complete awe and astonishment at how lucky she'd gotten to be with someone so incredible as pleasing and satisfying her, knowing she was in for a treat that afternoon. he hoists up the material of her t-shirt and hooks his fingers into her knickers, pulling them away from her core and revealing the wet and glistening folds between her legs.

"you really are desperate for me, hm?"

she nods and her attention reverts back to him when she feels his weight adjust above her, his knees propping her legs open so he had access to tease her entrance with the tip of his cock.

with a deliberate thrust, he sank into her and filled her completely, enticing a stunned gasp from deep within her. pleasure coursing through her as he stretched her in ways she had felt before but would never get over - it was thrilling for her, knowing he had the same effect on her like he did the first time they shared a intimate evening together. they moved together, a rhythm building between them as her hips bucked up every time he gave her a thrust, each one sending waves of ecstasy through her body. toes curling, fingers gripping at the material of his blazer, knees tensing around him in an attempt to have him go deeper.

they were lost in each other. the chaos of london outside his window fading away as they surrendered to the pleasure that had overtaken their bodies as he continued to thrust, each movement sending her closer and closer to the edge.

“don't stop,” she gasps out, her breath coming in quick bursts, "don't you dare."

he responded with fierce intensity, their bodies continuing to move together in perfect harmony, the heat between them becoming thick and palpable, a fire that threatened to consume them both.

and as they reached the peak of their pleasure, she cried out loud, her body quaking in ecstasy as she fell over the edge without a care in the world on who could hear her. the world around her exploding in a blur of sensations, her body arching and trembling as she gave in to the white hot ball of pure electricity that erupted in her belly.

arthur followed closely behind with his own release. his own moans filling the air and mixing with her purrs of pleasure once she'd hit the high, his body falling beside her in the aftermath of their passion. breathless and satisfied.

"that was amazing," she whispers hoarsely, feet flat against the floor as her back stayed flat against the mattress, "i don't know what came over me then, i'm so sor-."

"don't even think about apologising," he turns his head to face her and she can see sweat clinging to his forehead and his eyes watering so slightly at the corners, "that was incredible. i might have to come home wearing suits more often."

"i don't even know if it was the suit, the colour, the fact i missed you a lot today," she shrugs, "whatever it was, i hope it never disappears."

silence swallows the both of them, their heavy breathing being the only sounds to fill the quiet of the room, his fingertips brushing over hers as they laid together on the edge of the bed.

"reckon we should get cleaned up?"

she nods, "can we have a bath though? i don't know if i can stand."

"i did you that good, huh?"