#does that mean it's... fictober?

[lovevalley45]

so i updated the warnings on SFTS this afternoon bc i've been going thru what i've written n was seeing if i could make the tags more accurate

and it was during that that i remembered i read a lot of horror n shit that gets gnarly n i've been like 'oh this isn't that bad' and it isn't! but i was like 'yeah okay maybe i do need graphic violence for my novel that takes place in a fighting ring'

[lovebugism]

eddie fucking you in the back of his van whilst it’s raining😫

hope you like it lovie!! — after a series of ruined date nights, eddie makes up for another failure the only way he knows how (established relationship, smut 18+, 1.4k)

fictober (㇏(•̀ᵥᵥ•́)ノ)

Eddie was gonna take you out, come hell or high water — literally.

It was like the universe was conjuring up ways to keep you apart. He tries to plan a date night with you, and suddenly you have to pick up your coworker’s extra shift and the brakes in his van don’t work anymore.

He takes you to a drive-in to see some black-and-white horror movie, and for the first time in weeks, things are actually looking pretty good. With some candy he brought from home, the two of you settle under the covers in the back of his van, lazing against one another as the projector flickers on.

And then it just starts fucking pouring.

It’s like he blinks and the whole thing gets canceled and the entire parking lot is empty.

“You’ve gotta be shitting me,” he grumbles under his breath, not unlike the black storm clouds rolling overhead.

You giggle at his dramatics. The heavenly sound melts with the wild cadence of rain, tapping rhythmically against the rusted tin roof of the van. 

You’re still being a good sport about the whole thing despite the circumstances. You don’t care what you’re doing, really. You’re happy just doing nothing with Eddie. 

“They refunded us for next week. We can just come back Saturday.”

“I wanted to do it this Saturday,” he whines, all boyishly angry. With his arms crossed over his chest, he leans his head back and bares his milky white neck. “This was supposed to be our night together— why does everything have to get so fucked all the time?”

“It’s not like everything’s totally ruined,” you assure him, practically cooing as you smooth out the frown between his brows with your thumb. “At least we’re together. Who cares about the rest of it?”

“I know, but… You were really excited about it. And I was really excited to watch you watch the movie.”

Eddie tries to be serious, but he’s grinning the second he makes you laugh.

“Shut up…”

“I mean it,” he tells you, serious and quiet with it. His cheek squishes against his shoulder when he pouts at you. “I think I might be heartbroken, babe.”

You know what he’s playing at. You lean into it, anyway.

“Yeah?” you hum with narrowed eyes.

He nods.

“Want me to make it better?”

“Please?”

You close the short distance between you to press a kiss to his mouth. It’s the chastest little peck — you’re practically gone the second you’re there. Eddie chases you when you pull away, tasting of nicotine and pink starbursts when he kisses you deeper.

You get lost in him like it’s nothing, sighing when his soft tongue juts gently against your own. He’s sucking softly at your bottom lip one second, and the next, you’re lying on a pile of fuzzy blankets.

His rings and cold knuckles brush your sides when he tugs at the hem of your shirt, a silent plea for its removal. You come to then, pulling back from him with a low click sounding between your kissed mouths.

“Wait…”

“What?” he wonders, lips rosy and swollen. His deep, chocolate eyes dart between both of yours, looking for any sign that something might be wrong.

“Won’t we get in trouble?”

“No— Everyone already left.”

He’s breathless from having been kissed so ardently. He leans down for more anyway. His stomach twists with rejection when you press against his shoulders to stop him.

With a sigh, he concedes and rises off of you again. His shirt is wrinkled and skewed around his neck from your passionate touches. Still on his knees, he reaches for the metal handle of the back door and shouts into the roaring rain — “Hello? Anyone out here?”

“Eddie!” you shout, giggling and jerking backward when rogue droplets sprinkle inside.

The van shakes when he slams the door shut again.

“See?” he lilts with a lopsided grin. “No one.”

You shake your head at him. “You’re incorrigible, you know that?”

“You love me, though,” he mutters as he settles back over you. The weight of his body is warm against your own. With your hands on his sides, you pull him somehow closer.

“Unfortunately…” you gripe, kissing the breath from his lungs a second later.

When he reaches for the hem of your shirt again, you let him take it off.

—————

The thundering rain against the roof almost drowns out your gentle moans. Eddie’s glad you’re breathing them right into his ear, so he can hear everything he’s doing to you. 

His thrusts are slow and measured. Almost painfully unrushed. He shushes your begging to go faster — “Just let me make you feel good,” he mutters, slurred and low, “Let me hit that spot.” He pierces you with his cock, tilting his hips to hit deep inside you until you make a pretty noise for him, then he creeps back out again.

He never pulls all the way out, though, ‘cause he might die if he left the warm velvet you are around him. He keeps his pelvis pressed intently against your own, the coarse hair at the base of his cock steady on your pussy. The pressure against your clit is merciless.

“Put your legs around me, baby,” he mumbles against your mouth because he knows the different angle will make it better for you. 

He almost smirks when you obey him without thinking, but his mouth parts with an unexpected moan before he can. You pull your knees back and tuck your ankles around his waist, heels pressing gently above his ass. 

Your cunt widens and suckles him further in.

Eddie grumbles a hearty, poorly muffled moan into your neck.

“There you go— just like that,” he praises. “Doing so good for me, pretty. Always so good for me.”

You whine again, high and light, like the praise is equally as pleasurable as his cock.

His metal chain glides between your breasts when he pulls back from you. He tucks his ringed fingers into your waist and sits back on his haunches, balls resting warm and wet against your ass. He keeps rocking into you, unhurried.

“What happened to that mouth you had before, huh?” Eddie wonders, still breathless.

He smirks when you moan in response. He knows you don’t have the words to answer him. He knows he’s fucked you far too stupid.

“Thought I was incorrigible, remember? What happened to that?”

Your mouth parts in a silent whimper, back arching and brows pinching when his cock hits deeper than you think he’s ever been. The pleasure feels borderline electric — makes your spine tingle and your legs go numb.

“Yeah… For someone who loves mouthing off—” Eddie continues to tease despite his breathlessness. You clench around him, and he has to remember to exhale. “—You open up so easily for me. Don’t ya, honey?” 

You wanna say something. You think you almost do. But his thrusts are as merciless as they are slow. He presses impossibly deep within you and keeps hitting that spot until you tremble. The words get caught in your throat, along with a silent moan.

“That’s okay, honey. Just let me fuck you. Let me make you feel good,” Eddie slurs, mumbling like he’s talking to himself. “Go dumb for me like you always do. So perfect at that— god.”

He tilts his head back to howl a groan. Through fluttering lashes and a blurry vision, you see his clenched jaw and taut neck and heaving chest. 

Eddie always talks a big game when he gets you all sweet and pliable underneath him. He loves to be dominant while he tears you apart, but as his own orgasm crawls up his spine, his true colors start to show.

He leans back over you again, caging you beneath his warm weight. He stops hiding his pathetic whines and whimpers and instead buries them into your sweat-slick shoulder. He babbles in your ear, a bunch of garbled nothingness because words are starting to lose meaning.

“Fuck, honey. Oh, fuck— you’re so fucking— shit. You’re so goddamn pretty, baby, you know that? So good for me. So soft, too. Shit. This pussy’s gonna kill me.”

He tucks his face into your neck and tries to kiss you through his whines. His ringed fingers crawl behind your back, holding you like his life depends on it while his measured thrusts grow rapid and sloppy. 

Eddie begs you to cum, or rather demands it because he can feel himself about to explode. “Cum— Cum for me— right fucking now.”

You do. You’ve been hanging by a thread the whole time, really. And like you expected, Eddie’s not too far behind you. Your unabashed moans entwine, mixing with the wild cadence of the rain against the tin roof of the rocking van.

[farfromstrange]

Fictober Day 25: Love Language

Fictober Masterlist | Main Masterlist

Pairing: Matt Murdock x F!Reader

Prompt: Love Language (🌼)

Summary: Matt's love language is touch.

Warnings: Fluff, love language, not proofread.

Word Count: 687

A/n: I do believe Matt Murdock shows his love through touch a lot, but also through all his other senses. I'm just focusing on one in this fic.

Read Me On AO3! (coming soon)

Matt’s love language is touch.

It’s not because he doesn’t know how to tell you he loves you—he does. He tells you before you’re even awake, before he leaves for work, during work, and before bed. He utters those three times almost more than you do because he is scared if he doesn’t you might slip away, but that is also why he touches you so gently every time he’s close to you. 

Every morning, he traces the features of your face from your temples to your chin until you wake up. He kisses your temple when you’re busy making coffee, brushes his hand over your lower back when you’re brushing your teeth, or getting dressed for the day and he just happens to have to brush past you. 

He kisses you goodbye three times, one kiss for every word in ‘I love you’. And when he comes home, he kisses you once, but he doesn’t stop for a whole minute because he just needs to taste you after having been apart from you for so long. 

You can feel his love through his fleeting touches, the way he holds you close to his chest when you can’t sleep, and how he lays his head on your chest when he’s had a rough day because you are his only reprieve from the bustling of the city. You are his saving grace. When he touches you, even just for a second, he forgets the world.

So, when he tells you, “I love you,” on his way out the door and you answer with, “I know,” you mean it in the most literal sense of the word.

You know he loves you because he never fails to show you. 

You know he loves you because he will never let you forget it. 

He might never be able to give you peace, but peace, in your opinion, is overrated. He keeps your brittle heart warm. He keeps you safe. He would die for you, that much you know.

He has proven time and time again how much you mean to him, and yet he never feels it’s quite enough. He never feels like he is enough for you. Not good enough. Not pure enough. Not easy enough or safe enough. 

“As long as I’m part of your life,” he’d said once, “you’re always gonna be in danger, and one day, I might not be able to stop you from getting hurt.”

“It wouldn’t be your fault,” you’d told him.

“No, it would. You deserve better. So much better.”

But you only took his hand in yours, intertwined your fingers, and said, “I deserve you.”

If he lost you, Matt wouldn’t know what to do with himself. Having one more person he loves die in his arms would kill him. He would fall to his knees then and beg God to take him, too. He would beg the earth to open up and take him to hell because he is sure he has sinned enough to make it straight to the fiery pits of hell. 

His sins can not be forgiven, no matter how much he prays. You know he thinks like that more often than he cares to admit, and even when you try to tell him how good he is, he refuses to listen.

Loving you is his penance. 

Telling you how much he loves you is not enough, so he has to show it some other way. He has to work to earn it, he thinks, so he does. He will love you until his heart is bleeding on the floor—until he has sacrificed his very soul to you. Only then will he be worthy of redemption.

He’s utterly broken, but you wouldn’t stick around if you didn’t think he’s worth it. You can help him. You can take his hand and tell him time and time again that he is enough, and you will do so until he finally believes you.

Whether it takes two years or two lifetimes, you don’t care. You will never tire of trying because, to you, Matt Murdock is more than enough.

@ebathory997 @the-b33skn33s @scoliobean @drmeghanjones @lanae111 @gpenguin666 @linamarr @itwasthereaminuteago @norestfortheshelbywicked @yarrystyleeza @littlenerdyravenclaw @etanordoesbullsh1t @thychuvaluswife @harleycao @schneeflocky @imjustcal @pipsqueakkitten @merlinbtch @sya-skies @thatonegamefish @amberritonicole @pigeonmama @bohemianrhapsody86 @a-gir1-has-n0-name @winkev1 @callsign-ember @chittaphonstar @buckyyyismahhlife @trublu2u @xnatyx @zomtart @ethereal-blaze @littleagxs @ravenclaw617 @lucienofthelakes @steve-chandler

[intimacyequalsdeath]

Bubz's Slasher Fictober Day 13: Hellboy (Pumpkin Spice)

Friday the 13 in October no less! Happy 13th of Fictober besties as always I hope you've all been enjoying these fics especially this weeks smutty fics and I hope your excited for more festivities in the next couple weeks of Fictober.

Notes: Minors DNI, Smut, Spice and everything nice. No specific pronouns or descriptions are used though the reader does work as an exotic dancer.

"You said you were ok with it! you knew what I did for work before we got together Red. Why the hell is it a problem now?" You slammed open the door to your dressing room as he followed behind you into the room.

Red had just recently got back from a mission and had come to see you at the club you worked as a dancer at. Something he always did when he got back except this time he had a stick up his ass.

"Well yeah things change toots, Especially when I show up and see all these other men drooling over you" You rolled your eyes.

"Red I tell you all the time, those guys don't matter. I just need their money you're the only one that matters to me" You understood he was jealous but you didn't understand what his issue was.

You watched as he huffed some more and briefly paced the room before sitting on the old faux leather couch you had put in the corner specifically for him to come and visit you at the club. You went and sat next to him, forgetting that you had come back to your dressing room to changed out of your skimpy attire and into street clothes.

"What's wrong red? I can't fix anything if you don't talk to me" You ran your hand up and down his arm trying to coax him to talk.

"All those men out there that aren't well ya know" He said softly

"They aren't want honey?"

"They aren't like me, their normal" He said. You're heart broke.

"Baby, You are normal, You're my normal. You're everything I could've ever hoped to find in a man. I don't care about all those rich dicks out there. The only man in the entire world I care about is you."

You watched as Hellboy processed your words, His face not giving anything away quite yet as he thought for a moment. Your eyes met his and you offered him a smile he couldn't help but to grin himself before looking away bashfully.

"You mean it?" He asked almost a playful tone to his voice.

"Of course I do. I fucking love you, plus no one can handle me like you can baby" You moved into his laps running your hands up and down his chest as you lost yourself into his eyes.

"Hey I'm sorry baby I uh, I guess I just got into my own head again" He told you, wrapping his giant arms around your waist.

"It's ok my love, I understand" You told him, pressing kisses to his face then his lips.

Your arms went around his neck as he took over the kiss. You pulled away a bit so he could fully take in your outfit choice for the night, It was a barley there number with accents in a particular color that resembled your demon boyfriend.

"Do you like my outfit baby?" You asked him playfully. He grinned.

"Course I do, red looks real good on you ya know" You both laughed.

"Ya know I'm kinda partial to red myself" His hands moved up to the zipper in the back of the outfit to take it off of you.

"Really? and why's that?"

"I don't know honestly, I've just always really liked it" He moved the fabric down your body as you started running your hands down his again.

He let the fabric drop to the floor when he finally had it completely off you, His hands made their way back to your waist working their way up to your chest as he slid his fingers over your nipples as he took in your bare form. It wasn't anything new to him obviously but he always liked to take you in like a fine art painting that he was seeing for the first time.

"You know Red I'm feeling a bit underdressed here" You said nodding to the fact that he was still fully clothed. He smirked at you and allowed you to work his shirt over his head before unbuckling his pants.

Once his pants were down, His cock sprang free smacking against his stomach. Precum already leaking out of the top of it before you had even touched anything.

You took his cock into your hand giving it a few strokes before guiding it to your entrance. He pushed into you slowly as always giving you time to adjust to his size as obviously his dick much like everything else about him is huge. Once you had adjusted to his size you gave him the go ahead by beginning to slowly bounce up and down.

He chucked at your eagerness before thrusting hard up into you before you could come back down on top of him. You gasped at the feeling of him all the way inside you, you reveled in how full he always made you feel. Your eyes rolling back into your head as you stopped for a minute just to feel him completely.

Hellboy made no move to continue to thrust so you could tell he liked the feeling of being inside you too. You put your hands behind your legs onto to his knees allowing yourself to lean back for a new angle.

"Red please, Fuck me" You pleaded breathlessly.

"What good manners you have for daddy huh?" He teased before fulfilling exactly what you wanted.

You could feel as your mixing juices were sliding down your thighs making both your laps a mess. The only sound echoing through the room other then your moans and his grunts was the slapping of skin on skin as he fucked up into you making a mess of the both of you.

He brought a giant hand up to gently wrap it around your neck. Using this as leverage he began slamming you onto his cock by your neck, his other hand holding you behind your back to keep you steady.

"Red I- I can't It's, It's" You gasped out grabbing at his chest, He made no move to stop though.

"Nah Baby, I know you can take it and you're going to take it" He commanded.

Your legs fell even more open, if that was even possible, at his words and the only words able to come from your mouth after that were incoherent mumbles in-between your moans.

You felt your walls begin to tighten as he leaned over to kiss and suck on your neck, leaving love bites as he went to further mark you as his. Suddenly here your orgasm was, You cried out as you could feel yourself wrap around his cock as he also came inside you. Your juices mixing together and making an even bigger mess.

Once you both had came he took you gently off his lap and laid you on the couch next to him as you both caught your breath.

"Hey baby you with me?" He asked, taking a cigar out of his discarded coat pocket and lighting it before taking a hand and gently rubbing your back. Wary of your ability to speak your nodded at him and he smiled.

"I'm fine Red, You just wear me out" You gave a soft laugh.

"You think your gonna be ok to walk out of here back to the apartment?" He asked, but something told you he already knew the answer.

"Probably not, You gonna be up to carry me?" You asked, knowing full well nothing stroked his ego more then having to carry you after he fucked you.

"Babydoll nothing would bring me more pleasure then carrying my baby home" Your eyes met his as you both grinned at each other like love sick fools.

Something told you Hellboy was never gonna have to worry about old rich dickheads ever again.

[baronessblixen]

Fictober Day 19: Spare Moments

Prompt: "This is getting ridiculous"

For the anon who asked for a story where Mulder and Scully are bowling. Bonus points for them eating hot dogs. Rating: T, wc: 1,008.

Tagging @today-in-fic @xffictober24

They’re not on a date. She repeats the words in her head like a mantra. This isn’t a date; it can’t be.

Or is it a date?

She steals glances at Mulder, sipping his beer, chatting with the Gunmen, and occasionally checking up on her. They’re just two friends hanging out at a bowling alley. There’s nothing unusual about it at all. She takes a sip from her own beer at the exact moment that Mulder looks over at her. He’s smiling hard, his face devoid of worry.

But maybe it’s a date, after all.

After Mulder's impromptu baseball lesson, she went through the same spiel last week. Had that been a date? Was him asking her to join the Gunmen and a few others for a friendly game of bowling a date? She hasn’t been this mystified by matters of the heart since she was 16 years old and waiting for the boy she liked to ask her out. Mulder hasn’t asked her out, has he?

“You want a hot dog, Scully?” She’s been so tangled in her thoughts that she hasn’t noticed Mulder walk up to her. He sits down and their legs press together.

“What?”

“A hot dog. Frohike says they sell the best hot dogs he’s ever had here. I don’t know how accurate that description is, but you do look dazed, and I didn’t want to be a bad d- friend.”

She stares at him, wondering what word he just stumbled over, and whether he’s been having similar thoughts to hers.

“I wouldn’t mind a hot dog.” His face lights up and there’s that smile again. “It’s almost your turn, though.” She points at the board where their names are written down. They’re on the same team. Langly tried to split them up, but neither Mulder nor Frohike would stand for it.

I’ll be quick,” he promises, touching her shoulder in passing as he rushes over to the snack bar.

“Where is lover boy going?” Her eyes following Mulder, Scully is surprised to see Frohike take the place next to her.

“To get hot dogs,” Scully replies.

“They’re good,” Frohike says and she gets the feeling he wants to say more. But true to his word, Mulder returns a moment later, a hot dog in each hand.

“I hope you’re right about these.” Mulder hands one of the hot dogs to Scully and takes a bite from his own. “Well, you weren’t wrong,” he says with his mouth full.

“Mulder, you’re up,” Langly yells, holding out a bowling ball to him. Still chewing, he hands his hot dog to Scully.

“Can you hold this?” he asks with a grin and she just nods. She watches as he takes the ball and effortlessly throws a strike. Byers – as part of their team – cheers and claps. Mulder, however, only has eyes for Scully. His grin is victorious and sweeter than any dessert she’s ever sampled.

“Your hot dog,” she says at the same time as he says, “did you see that?” They realize their faux pas and laugh, grinning at each other.

“This is getting ridiculous,” Frohike says with a snort. Until now, she’d forgotten he was sitting next to her. “Get it together, you two. This is a family place.” He stomps off to the ball rack, searching for one that works for him.”

“I still have your hot dog,” Scully tries again, trying to ignore what their friend just said.

“Thank you,” Mulder says, but instead of taking it from her hand, he lowers his head, and bites a piece off, smiling up at her. All she can do is stare at him, speechless. “Bowling fingers,” he says, wriggling them at her before he takes the food from her hand.

“It’s good, isn’t it? Frohike was right.” She’s telling the truth, but she no longer feels hungry. What did Frohike mean? What does this evening mean? This isn’t the first time she’s been invited to join Mulder and the Gunmen. Yet, it feels like something has shifted. It had shifted before their baseball lesson. Before, they’d move at a glacial pace and now they’re speeding ahead. It’s giving her whiplash.

“He was right,” Mulder says, his voice so soft that she turns to face him. “About the hot dog, but also about this getting ridiculous.”

“What do you mean?” She swallows hard.

“Nothing, just-”

“Your turn, Scully.” It’s Frohike. Everyone is watching her as she hands Mulder the rest of her hot dog and she walks up to the ball rack. She finds her bowling ball easily enough; she’s got the smallest hands.

She takes a deep breath, calculates at what speed she should throw, and at what angle. If only her mind wasn’t so distracted. Mulder was about to say something just now. What is getting ridiculous? Is it them? Is this a date?

The bowling ball feels heavy in her hand, but not as heavy as her emotions somersaulting. She realizes that it doesn’t matter. What matters is how she interprets it.

The question is whether she wants this to be a date. She feels Mulder’s eyes on her back. He’s waiting for her to make a decision, too. In the end, it’s easier than she thought it would be. She throws the ball and holds her breath. Both teams erupt in joy as all the pins fall.

Strike.

She turns around, grinning, and the others cheer and holler. Mulder flashes her a smile, waiting for her to return to him.

“You’re amazing, Scully,” he says, breathless.

“Mulder, is this a date?” The words tumble from her mouth and the corner of his mouth switches.

“That depends.”

“On what?”

“Whether you want it to be one or not.”

“What if I do?”

“Then it is one.”

“Good.” She grabs her hot dog from his hand, leaning into him. Her free hand hesitates before landing on his thigh – it might be new, but it feels right. In that moment, she decides that this is her space now, her quiet claim on him.

[ghostofskywalker]

Cognitive Recalibration

Commander Wolffe/Reader

Fictober 2024 Day 16 of 31

Words: 1,161

Summary: In the time following Order 66, you worked to remove the inhibitor chips of Imperial clones. This time, you had your sights set on an old friend, and the consequences were dire if you failed.

Note: this is set after wolffe's appearance in the bad batch :) i was halfway through writing this when i realized the reader was basically running a trap-neuter-release program with clones (trap-dechip-release) like people do with colonies of stray cats lol.

Clone Troopers Masterlist

You watched from your hiding spot in the bushes, waiting for your target to finally step withing range of your stun blaster. This time, you couldn’t afford to screw up. 

When you had gotten the comm from Rex, you didn’t believe him at first. But now, as you stood in the shadows and watched as one of the men you had worked closely with during the war exit an Imperial transport shuttle, you were forced to face the truth. One of the people you had trusted to have your back in battle would likely try to kill you within seconds of laying eyes on you, and you hated that feeling. 

By some twist of Maker’s grace he was alone, but that did not mean that this process would be easy. There was no room for even a single misstep, especially because he would recognize you. 

If you had not completed your objective for other clone operatives, there was less of a risk that they would know your identity, and you certainly didn’t make a habit of swinging your lightsaber around anymore. Now however, there was no hiding. If you didn’t effectively knock Wolffe out before removing his chip, he would recognize you instantly, and you would once again be thrown into a fight for your life, mirroring the one you only narrowly escaped from not too long ago. 

Selfishly, there was another reason for your wanting to save Wolffe from this terrible fate. You had spent quite a bit of time around the 104th when General Koon was called for meetings and solo missions, and you had grown quite close to the commander. Although you doubted there was a future for the two of you that didn’t involve intense heartbreak, you still wanted to see him removed from the chip’s influence and freed from the Empire’s grasp. 

Your hand shook right as he approached, and the weapon brushed up against the leaves of your hiding spot. Kriff, you thought. If he turned around to see the nose of a blaster peeking through the foliage, this was not going to go well. 

Wolffe moved a half-step more, and suddenly you had your shot. Tapping into the force to guide the bolt to its target, you let out a sigh of relief as the commander dropped to the ground. But that didn’t mean all this was over, and you still had a lot of work to do if you wanted to accomplish it all before he woke up.  

***

Binders were a precaution, and it hurt your heart to restrain Wolffe even in his sleep. The makeshift medical bay that you had essentially been using as a catch-and-release headquarters for de-chipping imperial clones didn’t exactly have the most up-to-date tech, but it did its job, and soon the commander was waking up, the effects of the stun bolt finally wearing off. 

You were sitting across the room, inputting information into your datapad when you heard your name. Immediately you tensed, not sure what kind of reunion this was going to be. Although Wolffe was now inhibitor chip-less, he could still believe that the Jedi were traitors, or that the Empire is where his loyalties should lie. 

“What are you doing?” he asked as he sat up, raising his eyebrows at you when he realized he was wearing binders on one wrist, keeping him from getting off the cot. “I thought you were dead.” 

“The Empire does too, and I’d like to keep it that way,” you said. “Rex told me where to find you.” 

Wolffe paused. “I should have known he wouldn’t let things go.” His free hand moved towards his hair, pausing as he felt the bandage on his head. “What did you do to me?” 

“Removed your inhibitor chip,” you said. “The thing that made you lash out and kill Master Koon.” 

Okay, maybe you shouldn’t have jumped all in on guilting him, but it was the only thing you could think to get him to understand the stakes here. Thankfully you hadn’t been traveling with the 104th when Order 66 was called, but you had reached out through the Force for your former master the moment you were able, only to receive nothing but cold emptiness in return. You knew what had happened, a theory that was later confirmed when you saw his ghost. 

“The Empire did that to us?” Wolffe asked, and you could tell he was beginning to question everything. 

You shook your head. “Whoever the architect of the Empire was, yes, but we don’t know too much about how this all came to be. It was only after reuniting with Rex did he explain what it felt like, and even then I was still unsure if I trusted him until I saw the chip, and proof of its removal myself.” 

Wolffe paused. “What do I do now?” His voice was so much quieter than it had been before, and you did not envy the swirling storm of thoughts, guilt, and worry that must be taking over his brain at this moment. 

“For one, I know that Rex would be more than happy to welcome you to his crew, if you want to fight back against the Empire,” you said softly. “Or if you just want to live without going through any more battle, there are places where you can settle.” 

Wolffe paused. “What if I don’t know yet?” 

“You could travel with me for a little while, until you figure out where you want to go,” you offered. It was a selfish proposal just as much as it was selfless, as you couldn’t help but think about a future where the two of you could exist side by side, whether that was in a romantic relationship or not. 

Wolffe looked at you. “If I say yes, will you take the binders off my wrist?” he asked, the ghost of a smile beginning to cross his face. You smiled back as you walked over to him and removed the restraint, trying not to think about how warm his skin felt under your fingertips. 

Right as you were about to step away, Wolffe reached out and gently took your hand. “Thank you,” he said sincerely. “For saving my life.” 

Confused, you looked at him. “What?” 

“What I was doing before, for the Empire,” he said. “That wasn’t living. You took a chance on me, even though it could have been dangerous for you, and I don’t know how I could ever repay you.” 

“How about you just never try to kill me?” you asked, trying to lighten the mood while also thinking about how much you wanted to kiss him right now. 

“Cyar’ika, you’ve certainly got yourself a deal,” he said, smiling for the first time in (what you assumed) was a long time. 

Maybe the future didn’t hold as much heartbreak as you expected it to, you thought. Or maybe it was all worth it, for moments like these.

- the end -

i no longer have a taglist! if you're interested in being notified when i post, you can follow my library blog @ghostofskywalker-library and turn on notifications!

[orimuraa]

₊˚⊹⋆🍁⋆⊹ Day 1: My royalty - Kim Sunoo

(synopsis) 🍂 it’s now autumn, so, as one does, you and your boyfriend do skincare for the fall ₊⊹

kim sunoo x fem!reader 🍂 petnames, kisses and cuddles 🍂 skincare with sunoo 🍂 cute and short drabble ^3^ 🍂 wc 472

masterlist

fall was now in the air and the leaves were changing color, meaning only one thing for you and your boyfriend. skincare change. both you and sunoo took skincare VERY seriously and if you missed a day, both of you acted as if your faces would fall off. so, naturally, as the air gets colder and the humidity changes, so does the skincare routines! and today, was the first day of the autumn skincare.

"ynnie!! come quick! i have the masks~" sunoo shouted to you from the bathroom. you were in charge of all the snacks and entertainment while doing the skincare and sunoo was in charge of getting everything out and in order.

"coming!!" you yelled back, dropping off the snacks on the bed and rushing into the bathroom where sunoo was standing there with two pumpkin face masks set out on the table. you both were all cozy in matching autumn pjs and the two of you had just gone out to buy a ton of stuff in preparation for the new change in season. sunoo had a bright, excited smile on his face as both of you very much enjoyed the fall season and the skincare that came with it.

now settling into your bed, with face masks on, you turned on the tv to the new drama you and sunoo had recently been binge watching together. the sheets had been changed to the autumn ones and the usual floral incense that was burning in your room had now been replaced with an apple cider one, making it truly seem like fall.

"cheers to autumn!!" you smiled, raising you cup of hot cocoa to sunoo.

"cheers to autumn, pretty," his eyes holding so much love for you. even though you both looked very silly with the face masks on, sunoo still admired your beauty underneath the mask.

once the masks were off, you both enjoyed putting on each other's routines for each other, laughing every second until your stomachs were both cramping from all the laughter.

"happy autumn, pretty," sunoo said softly, kissing your lips ever so gently, leaving your cheeks slightly dusted with pink.

"happy autumn to you too sun sun," you smiled back, pulling him in for a warm embrace. autumn was your's and sunoo's season. it was the season when you two first got together and overall just a season that held so much meaning to it for you two.

the comfort of sunoo beside you and the autumn smelling candle that was lit right next to your bed just felt so right. the way his arm fit perfectly on you waist and the warmth from his body and the covers over you was just perfect. you were so happy that it was now fall and it was safe to say that the feeling was mutual.

fictober day 1!!! i'm so excited for this whole month of just having fun and writing with @kpislby and @seozii <3333 please look forward to all of our works and go show support and love to each of our works! likes, reblogs, and feedback are always welcome! happy fall everyone!

⚘. Perm taglist: @vmpivory, @yuvany

comment or send in an ask to be added to the taglist!

[eustassslut]

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Eustass Kid doesn't do love. He does one night stands, hookups and lust. He simply just does not do love, it isn't a word in his vocabulary. Sure he sings about it frequently but those aren't songs Kid has written himself; those are Heat's songs dedicated to whoever he's in love with that week.

Love is real, he knows that. He's seen it with his parents, Heat with his many lovers and felt it in its platonic form for his fellow band members. But love just isn't for him. He has no need for it in his life. He's always seen love as a distraction; something that seeps into your life, overtaking it and soiling your motivation like a bad addiction as it conquers you. Kid can't afford distractions in his career when he's worked so damn hard to reach the halls of fame. "Love will always be a fucking waste of my time and energy," he reminds Heat every time the bluenette tries to encourage him to trial the dating pool, "Why would I pursue some relationship with some pathetic loser and force myself to fall in love with someone when hookups exist?"

Kid knows his outlook on relationships and love is unusual, practically unheard of when taking his family (a bunch of gross sappy goth and punk couples) into consideration. Eustass Kid technically has all of the makings to be a true romantic but, unlike his sworn brother Killer, he just can't stand any of that shit.

At least that's what he thought, until he meets you.

Kid has know about you since he was young, fresh into his career and full of dreams to become a star. It's incredibly hard not to know who you are considering how long you've been supporting them. You're loyal, he'll give you that, a proud fan since they were a small cover band filming in Wire's garage with dreams for the stage. He has no idea what could possibly possess someone to have such blind faith in the weird metal band with wacky hairstyles and horrible videography. I mean, Wire's head was cut out frame for most of their covers and Kid was rocking an attempt at a emo haircut. Why had you stuck around so long to watch them grow into their careers? Why were you still so dedicated to giving them all your money? And why did he find himself caring so fucking much about what you wanted?

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Happy belated fictober! There's been a lot of Kid Pirates as a rock band art lately so I have been very inspired to create a fic series based around them as a famous band, here is a sneak peak of Eustass Kid's fic.

[allzelemonz]

Sweet: Kieran Duffy X Male Reader

Fictober Prompt: Day 10, Praise Kink Pronouns: None Mentioned Physical Sex: AMAB Rating: E/Smut Warnings: Kisses, fluff, smut, outdoor sex, praise kink, self anal fingering, anal sex, top Reader and bottom Kieran, statements of love, established relationship Summary: A moment away from camp in which you notice Kieran reacts rather pleasantly to being praised.

Kieran always loves your voice, especially when you tell him something nice. Not many people have nice things to say to him at all, but you’re always there to praise the things he does. It makes his knees weak and his heart flutter. Even when you’re kissing him against a tree after sneaking away from a camp party, he can hardly contain himself. So he just kisses you back, letting himself get lost in rutting against your thigh.

“You’re so damn good, Kieran.” You mutter mindlessly. “You feel good, you taste good…”

Kieran moans before he can stop himself, hiding his face in your shoulder as his hands grip tightly at your shirt. His dick pulses in his pants at your words and he never wants them to stop.

“You like me talking like that, don’t you, sweetheart?” You smile, pressing a few kisses to his cheek. “I mean I knew you liked it, but that sounded…”

You press yourself against him, your leg pressing flush into his dick and applying enough pressure to make Kieran gasp and throw his head back. You grind your leg into him and he whimpers from the contact, his eyes screwing shut.

“You make such pretty noises for me, Kieran.” You whisper, digging your leg forward, rubbing your knee right against his balls.. “You’re everything I want, you know that?”

“S-Shit…” Kieran whines. “Please don’t stop… please.”

“What do you want, sweetheart?”

His cheeks tint red, unembarrassed by the making out in the middle of the forest but very much affected by such a contextually dirty question. “Y-You… God, I want ya…”

“You’re such a good boy, Kieran.” You whisper, your own dick pulsing with need at Kieran’s adorable begging. “You always take me so well, that what you want?”

Kieran nods, his voice completely clouded by a whimper as he ruts against your knee. The sensation of his pants against his dick and his balls being squished lightly against your leg make him feel a mess.

“Can you get yourself ready for me, sweetheart?” You whisper, your hands messing with his pants. “I love watching you do that.”

Kieran’s hand fumbles for his pocket and you wait to tug his pants down. He pulls out a tin of pomade and smiles at you. You kiss him, shoving his pants down the rest of the way. Your hands grip his hips for a moment, kissing him softly to show your appreciation. Then you spin him around, your hands moving to spread his ass open as he automatically bends forward.

Kieran rushes to dig his fingers into the tin, nearly dropping it in the process, and moves his hand back behind himself. You watch him drag his fingers along until he reaches his rim. With your hands spreading his cheeks apart, you can see quite a show. Watching Kieran finger himself while you tell him how nice he looks is one thing, seeing the actual process of his own fingers working his hole loose for you is another. It almost makes you impatient, but you’re enjoying the sight too much.

“You’re so perfect, Kieran.” You say, a little breathless.

Kieran’s fingers are working their way in and out of him, slow and wide. The movement is hypnotizing and you think you might be able to watch it for the rest of your life.

But he pulls his hand away, straightening a bit to stretch his back. “I’m ready, darlin’, please…”

You scramble to fish yourself out of your pants. “Anything for you, Kieran. You’ve done so well with yourself.”

He rests his head against his arm, keeping himself somewhat comfortable against the tree, a little groan escaping as you speak. “Please…”

“I’m working on it.” You say, finally getting your dick out of your pants and pressing it against Kieran’s ass. “You’re being so good for me, sweetheart, just gotta wait a few more seconds.”

You press a kiss to his shoulder as he hands you the tin of pomade. With your hand coated in the slick gel, you work yourself over. Already hard from grinding against Kieran, slicking yourself is easy. You toss the tin aside and grip Kieran’s hip as you line yourself up and press inside. You don’t ease, you’ve done this too many times and Kieran always takes you so well and makes such nice noises when you press yourself all the way in.

“Fuck, Kieran, you feel so good.” You groan, your head falling against his back. “You’re so tight, it’s making me dizzy.”

Kieran pants, little whimpers escaping him as you both try to catch your breath. Then he wiggles his hips a little, asking you to move. You get your other hand on his hip, gripping him tight, and draw your hips back. You have to hold Kieran in place as his hips try to chase yours, but you manage to pull out with just your tip past his rim before sliding back in. The slimy pomade makes you glide and Kieran’s heat feels good enough to make you want to never leave.

“You do things to me, Kieran.” You mutter, drawing back again. “I would fuck you forever if I could.”

You set a quick pace, knowing the chances of getting caught out in the woods are high with the way Kieran whimpers and moans. His fingers dig into the tree bark, your hands no longer bothering to hold his hips in place and letting him move with you. With a few kisses to his shoulder, you feel yourself getting close and you move a hand down to pump Kieran along with his own hips.

“You’re getting me close, Kieran.” You murmur next to his ear. “Be a good boy and cum with me, okay?”

“‘Course…” He breathes. “Whatever ya want, darlin’.”

You drop your head into his shoulder, fucking into him as fast as your hips can manage. “I love you so much, sweetheart.”

Kieran gasps, his hips jolting as he releases onto the tree in front of him. You give a few more thrusts before you follow him, spilling inside his constricting heat with a groan and idle thrusts.

“I love ya too.” He mutters, his voice high and wavering.

You smile, pressing a kiss to his shoulder as you slowly pull out. “Let’s… let’s get back to camp before someone finds us, huh?”

Kieran hums, taking a moment to rest his head against the tree. You notice his legs shaking, so you pull his pants up for him after sorting yourself out. He turns in time to catch your lips in a kiss, his hands holding your face as he smiles into it.

[siriuslysmoking]

Captured

Fictober Masterlist

Day 11 of Fictober: Leo and Daughter of Hades

The sun blazed over Camp Half-Blood, casting long shadows as campers prepared for Capture the Flag. Excitement buzzed in the air, and you stood among your teammates, already strategizing. As the daughter of Hades, you were known for your skills, but that didn’t earn you many friends.

“Alright, team, let’s show them what we’re made of!” you declared, but your gaze drifted to the opposing side, where Leo Valdez stood, a mischievous grin plastered on his face.

“Hey, Darkness!” Leo called, his voice loud enough to draw attention. “Ready to get schooled?”

“By you? Please,” you shot back, crossing your arms. “You couldn’t teach a first-grader how to fold paper.”

He clutched his chest dramatically. “Ouch! My heart! I thought we were friends.”

“Not until you stop being an annoyance,” you replied, rolling your eyes. “And trust me, that’s a tall order.”

The whistle blew, signaling the start of the game. You sprinted into the fray, your team’s strategy already forming in your mind. But as you darted toward the flag, Leo blocked your path, arms wide as if he were guarding the last slice of pizza.

“Whoa there! I thought we were playing a game, not a horror movie!” he joked, flashing that infuriating grin.

“Move aside, Valdez! I have a flag to capture,” you said, trying to sidestep him. But he stepped closer, an undeniable spark of mischief in his eyes.

“Not so fast. You really think I’ll let you waltz past me?” he challenged, his gaze intense.

“Are you really that desperate to be my distraction? You must be pretty low,” you teased, a smirk creeping onto your face.

“Desperate? Me? I’m just doing my job, and doing it well,” he shot back, but there was a hint of something deeper in his tone.

Just then, he leaned in closer, his face inches from yours, and the air thickened with tension, he lands a soft touch of his lips onto yours. Not even a real kiss, but a soft graze. “But if I’m distracting you... does that mean I’m doing something right?”

“Is that your master plan? To get under my skin?” you shot back, your heart racing.

“Maybe,” he said, his voice lowering suggestively. “But I wouldn’t mind if we did that... again.”

You blinked, your mind racing. The moment hung between you, charged with unspoken feelings. You could hear your teammates shouting, but all you could focus on was Leo’s gaze.

“Are you really asking me to kiss you?” you challenged, raising an eyebrow.

“Maybe I am,” he replied, leaning even closer, his eyes filled with desire.

Before you could overthink it, you closed the distance, capturing his lips in a kiss. It was electric, sending a jolt of excitement through you as you melted against him. He responded eagerly, his hands finding your waist, pulling you closer.

But as the kiss deepened, a playful idea sparked in your mind. With a quick motion, you pulled back just enough to catch his surprised expression.

“Thanks for the distraction!” you called, dashing past him before he could fully process what just happened.

“Wait, what?!” Leo shouted, turning just in time to see you sprint toward the enemy flag.

You felt a surge of adrenaline as you raced through the chaos, dodging teammates and opponents alike. You could hear Leo’s voice behind you, a mix of disbelief and admiration.

“Hey! You can’t just—”

But you were already at the flag, snatching it up and turning to dash back. As you ran, laughter bubbled up inside you. The game wasn’t just about competition; it was a thrilling dance of strategy, and you were winning.

You crossed the boundary line, flag in hand, and your team erupted in cheers. Leo stood there, hands on his hips, mock annoyance written all over his face.

“Not cool!” he called out, though you could see the admiration in his eyes.

“Desperate times call for desperate measures!” you teased, waving the flag triumphantly.

As you celebrated with your team, you caught Leo’s gaze. He shook his head, a playful grin spreading across his face. “Alright, I admit it. That was a brilliant move. But next time, I’m definitely going to distract you again.”

“Bring it on, Valdez,” you replied, your heart racing—not just from the game, but from the connection that was growing between you.

Taglist: @champomiel@nockstormbringer @strawbeffys @ellapurnellmybeloved@mysticliars-blog1

[velvees-archive]

Tags: Love Confessions, Getting Together, Found Family, Miles POV, Insecurity

and more!

this is my day 16 submission for @fictober-event, and my late contribution to unnecessary feelings day…which passed two days ago. woops!

Prompt: “No, I’m not okay”

inspired by my tumblr post here!

An errant strand of jet black hair bobs to and fro as he pores over Miles’ face. "Edgeworth? You with me?" He’s surrounded by an emulsified blurb of noises: easy laughs, accompanying shouts, a beat. Miles isn’t feeling quite up to a lengthy conversation about his rationale, not when he’s insisting to himself that Wright is happy, he is happy, that the fire brewing inside of him is a fluke, and that perhaps it was time for him to move forward with his therapy sessions— “I was asking why you did it.” If he were to tell Wright that he already knew the answer: that he'd been spurred into action due to his creed and his pursuit of justice, he knows he’d only be propagating a half-truth—a secret by omission. In other words, a lie. “I wanted to help you,” he says, earnestly. Wright's shoulders rise and fall, an even rhythm. He takes a deep breath in, and the silence scatters. “Why?” - Miles Edgeworth does not long for more than he’s already been given. Sometimes, though, he thinks about it.

a few days ago, i proposed that narumitsu hits even harder when miles is the one hopelessly pining over phoenix following his disbarment. i also happened to want to explore phoenix working through the “prosecutor miles edgeworth chooses death” fiasco in jfa.

hence, this fic.

fic screenshots:

misc commentary/musings under the cut! :)

one day, i’ll stick a fic landing. it won’t be today, but one day...

very fun idea that became more convoluted as i tried to parse through dialogue, leaving me with 3 pages of unused scenes and dialogue exchanges. i can’t tell if i really hate this fic or really really hate this fic. regardless, it’s out there now, so no takebacksies :)

i’m happy with how the setting came out though! purposefully isolating miles from the rest of the group while they were in the karaoke bar was dirty work on my part but necessary for setting the tone of the story. phoenix is a bit mean here but i think that smarminess is integral to phoenix wright, especially when he’s confronted with his repressed abandonment/dependence issues.

did i sacrifice characterization for liberal dialogue choices though? absolutely!

about the title. it was originally supposed to be called “kill the lights” but i switched it to save me a seat because i think it gets the point across better!

i still don't think i've gotten the angst worms out, mostly because this fic doesn't follow my narumitsu getting together hc + the way i feel their characters are in canon. miles is a bit too self aware and eloquent w his feelings, while phoenix is too nice and too mean at the same time. there's always the next fic tho, thankfully! and maybe once i’ve gotten characterization down, i can share my actual hc

i have a few other fics i want to pump out before i start playing the great ace attorney and my lack of object permanence catches up on me. i’m thinking of making a low stress fic (lie, writing is never low stress for me) from an outsider’s pov. you’ll never guess who the outsider is tho, i promise

[lovebugism]

hey honey can i request a shy!reader x grumpy!eddie , maybe they’re pumpkin picking with friends & something angsty ensues but then fluffy & after they all go eat at the diner and get spooky themed orders 🤭

thanks for requesting lovie! — eddie gets grumpy on a fall outing with the gang (shy!reader, established relationship, hurt/comfort, 1.3k)

fictober (㇏(•̀ᵥᵥ•́)ノ)

Eddie’s a big ol’ grump at Eugene’s Pumpkin Patch, but he’s being really brave about it. He follows you like a puppy, visibly unamused about the whole thing but trying hard to be a good boyfriend despite his woe.

“Ah! Look at this one!” you gasp at the sight of a pumpkin, in a sea of bright orange pumpkins. 

Swallowed whole by your sweater, you crouch in the tall grass and reach for the tiny round thing hidden in it. The runt pumpkin sits neatly in your palms. “It’s so wittle,” you singsong up at Eddie in a tiny, high-pitched voice.

He smiles despite himself, laughing even though he’s grumpy, ‘cause you’re the cutest thing he’s ever seen.

“I’m gonna get this one,” you announce affirmatively when you rise to full height again.

“You made me drive an hour out just to get the tiniest pumpkin they have?” Eddie asks, laughing still but with a subtle bite of annoyance.

You try to ignore it, though the weight of his aggravation makes you writhe. “But it’s cute…” you defend with a weak shrug. “And also, you have to get one, remember?”

You take a tentative step towards Eddie, standing chest to chest. He huffs and puts his hands in the pockets of his leather jacket. His chocolate eyes flit around the expansive farm, dull and unimpressed. “They all look the same, so… I don’t think it really matters.”

“It does matter!” you insist, girlish and quiet and stubborn. “You have to pick the one you like the most— that’s the whole point!”

“You’re telling me there’s an art to pumpkin picking?” the boy teases with a crooked grin, tilting his head to the side so his curls bunch at his shoulder.

Still clutching the tiniest pumpkin either of you have ever seen, you nod. “Yes. That’s exactly what I’m telling you.”

He scoffs again in a curt laugh. He looks around again, only to point to the one sitting by his feet.

“Alright… How about that one?”

“Eddie!”

“What?” he whines in the same pouty tone as you.

“Can you at least pretend you’re having fun?” you murmur, a bit sad you have to even ask. 

You always spiral when he gets weird, secretly terrified that it’s all your fault. He doesn’t talk, so you overthink. Your brain gets mean, and you need Eddie to make you feel better — but he can’t because he’s weird. It’s unbearable. For both of you.

“It’s cold and rainy and Steve’s pants gave me a headache on the way over and I don’t feel good, okay? I’m sorry,” Eddie rambles with a pout, looking visibly pained about all of it.

Any excitement you had left leaves you like an ebbing tide. “Okay,” you mutter with a soft nod.

“I’m gonna go smoke,” the boy announces. 

He smacks a fleeting kiss to your cheek before he goes but doesn’t bother to invite you to come with him. He doesn’t feel very deserving of your company right now, too selfish in his woe and painfully self-aware about it.

You stand in place while he walks back to the van, feeling utterly alone and unwanted.

“Where’d Eddie go?” Steve wonders when he walks up to you with Robin at his side. 

They carry two pumpkins each, struggling with each of them because they’ve somehow managed to find the biggest ones on the whole farm. You figure they made a bet about it because everything’s a competition with them.

“Um… to smoke, I think,” you answer shyly, embarrassed to have been found alone for a reason you can’t name. “He just kinda… left.”

Robin scoffs. “I think he’s on his period,” she jokes with a gritty laugh.

“Yeah. He said my pants looked stupid before we left. I knew something was up.”

The brunette girl side-eyes the boy beside her. “I think he might’ve been right about that one, Stevie.”

You make a quiet exit when they begin to bicker back and forth. You duck through the bustling pumpkin patch and try not to trip in the tall grass on your way to Eddie’s van. 

Your boots crunch over the gravel of the parking lot. You find him leaning against the trunk, blowing out smoke from his pink mouth, slouching like he’s weighed down by his own sadness. 

“You okay, Eds?” you ask to announce your arrival. 

His eyes widen when he realizes you’re there. He’d pretend to be fine if it didn’t take all the energy he had left. “No,” he answers honestly, then quickly corrects, “I mean— I am, but… I feel bad. I was acting like a dick…”

“Yeah,” you concur with a nod. “You were.”

He’s too shocked to hide it on his face. You’re never normally so confrontational. You’re usually too quiet for that, too soft. And you still are now, because you always are, but he feels like he deserves to see this sterner side of you.

“But it’s okay. I know you didn’t wanna come in the first place.”

He turns on his shoulder when you stand at his side, towering over you as he flicks the butt of his cigarette. “Yeah, but… I didn’t have to be such an asshole to you about it. I feel like I fuckin’ ruined this whole day, you know?”

“We all have our moments, Eds. It’s no big deal,” you assure with a weak shrug and a stronger smile. “We still have the whole afternoon left— you didn’t ruin anything. Doesn’t make me love you any less, either.”

Your words make him grin. Like, really grin — all wide and rosy and boyish. You make him smile like nothing’s ever hurt him. Like nothing’s ever been wrong in his life. Fuck, he’ll never get tired of hearing you say that.

“I love the shit outta you, you know that?” he mumbles but doesn’t give you a chance to answer. He tosses the cigarette to the ground and snuffs it out with his sneaker right before kissing you absolutely stupid.

He wraps his arms around your neck, smothering your face with his. No one’s ever been kissed as hard as he’s kissing you now. The realization makes you smile too wide to kiss him back.

He pulls away from you with a hearty smack. With pinker lips and chocolate eyes, he grins hopefully down at you. “So you’re not mad at me?” he wonders, gentle like a child.

“Yes,” you nod, playfully firm. “I’m very mad, actually.”

Eddie’s smile widens. He knows you’re joking and decides to lean into it. “What can I do then, huh?” he murmurs lowly to you, a knowing smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. “How can I make it up to you?”

He wants to kiss you again. He wants to get you in the back of his van in a vacant parking lot. He wants you to tell him to make you feel good and not to stop until you’re pushing him away.

You know all of this, ‘cause you can practically read his mind, so you decide to drive him crazier. “I want you…” you start in the same low tone, bordering on sultry. 

Eddie’s already nodding. 

You smile and continue. 

“…To go pick your most favorite pumpkin in the whole patch, and then take me to Benny’s Burgers.”

Feeling slightly disappointed and utterly teased, Eddie searches the entire patch and finds the weirdest-shaped, wartiest pumpkin the earth has ever grown. He drives the gang to the diner after and sits you in his lap when all of you squeeze into one booth. 

He shares his milkshake with you and lets you have the pickle slice that comes with his burger when you ask for it (‘cause everyone knows it’s the best part). It’s the purest form of love, if he has anything to say about it.

[farfromstrange]

Fictober Day 15: Mutual Masturbation

Fictober Masterlist | Main Masterlist

Pairing: Matt Murdock x F!Reader

Prompt: Mutual Masturbation (✨)

Summary: Mutual masturbation. That's it.

Warnings: SMUT (18+), mutual masturbation, fingering, dirty talk, use of "good boy"

Word Count: 722

A/n: Matt's initials are MM, and so are the initials of this prompt.

Read Me On AO3! (Coming soon)

The air in the room is heavy.

Your labored breathing remains the only audible sound as you work your fingers against your swollen clit. You’re so wet, so desperate, chasing the pleasure coursing through your veins like a madwoman. 

Matt looks ethereal like this, eyes closed, cheeks flushed, and with his hand wrapped around his achingly hard cock. He’s stroking himself to the rhythm of your racing heart, and you get lost in the vision of him.

There is no doubt that he is listening to the way your fingers spread the wetness all over your pussy. He hears the way your breath hitches when you tease your hole with the tip of your index finger, the way you moan when you circle that sensitive bundle of nerves he loves to wrap his lips around, and the way you spread your legs just a little further so he can smell the intoxicating scent of your arousal. You’re his drug. 

His cock is thick, pink, and you almost start to salivate at the thought of putting him in your mouth. You watch his eyebrows crunch in pleasure as he speeds up just a little. What you would give to feel him inside you, but you have to be patient. You don’t often get to see him like this. 

You’re the reason he gets out of bed every morning, and you are the reason his cock is hard enough to burst. He could come without touching himself. He could come to the mere sound of your breathy voice crying out his name into the dark room. 

The things he does to you can’t possibly be healthy. The way he looks can’t possibly be human. But he’s here with you, spread out in bed, and you get to watch him come undone. It’s enough to make you moan a little louder, to grip the sheets, and to arch your back into your own hand.

“You look so pretty,” you pant. “Can't wait to feel you inside me. Fill me up with your cum. Make me–” you gasp, crooking your fingers toward the spot he once helped you find, “Fuck!”

Matt chokes on a groan. “Don’t stop,” he pleads.

You wonder what he means for a second, but then it dawns on you. Don’t stop talking. He wants you to keep serenading him with your voice's sweet, sweet melody He wants to feel you in his very bones until he can’t hold it anymore. Until he can’t help but to come, and to cry out your name in ecstasy. Until he’s a mess covered in cum that you have to pick up off the floor because he will have drowned in you.

You reach out to touch his sturdy thigh. “Wanna wrap my hand around your cock,” you continue. “Wanna feel how hard you are? Wanna take you into my mouth. Wanna suck until you come in my mouth like a good boy.”

His back arches off the bed.

“Such a good boy,” you say again, and he gives up. 

With a cry of your name, Matt tumbles over the edge, his orgasm tearing through him like a tsunami. Cum spurts on his stomach, coating the faint hairs on his chest in his essence. You watch as he drives himself into overstimulation, not able to stop from coming and coming and coming. 

The sight will stay forever ingrained in your mind. You watch him fall apart, and it sends you over the edge, too. Your walls shake around your fingers, his name a broken moan from your lips.

Time seems to slow to a crawl. Galaxies of stars explode in your line of vision. For a while, you simply float there, hearts beating in sync. You trace your fingers over the soft skin of his thigh, and his hand wraps around yours. He’s searching for something to hold onto just as much as you do.

“You okay?” you ask. 

He nods, fingers tracing along the pulse point on your wrist. “I love you,” he says.

You move your quivering body closer to his. “I love you too.”

He’s warm, and he’s nowhere near strong enough to pull you in right now, but he feels like home. Because home is hardly ever a place, it is a person, and Matt is and will forever be your person.

@ebathory997 @the-b33skn33s @scoliobean @drmeghanjones @lanae111 @steve-chandler @lucienofthelakes @xnatyx @gpenguin666 @linamarr @mcugeekposts @itwasthereaminuteago @norestfortheshelbywicked @yarrystyleeza @littlenerdyravenclaw @etanordoesbullsh1t @thychuvaluswife @harleycao @schneeflocky @imjustcal @pipsqueakkitten @merlinbtch @sya-skies @amberritonicole @ravenclaw617 @pigeonmama @bohemianrhapsody86 @a-gir1-has-n0-name @callsign-ember @chittaphonstar @buckyyyismahhlife @trublu2u @zomtart @ethereal-blaze

[intimacyequalsdeath]

Bubz's Slasher Fictober Apple Crumble NSFW Alphabets Day 18: Harry Warden

Day 18 coming right up! As always I hope you all enjoy <3, I will be honest though and say it has been forever since I've actually watched my bloody valentine so I'll try my best to do harry justice here.

Notes: Minors DNI, Smut, NSFW.

A is for Aftercare (What they're like after sex):

Soft baby boy. Checks on you multiple times and makes sure you have anything and everything you need. A bath? done, A drink ? done, A snack ? done. Literally ask for anything and this man will run to the store if you don't have it at the house.

B is for Body Part (Favorite on them and their partner):

After years of working in the mines, Harry is pretty fit. I could see his favorite part of himself being a tie between his chest and his arms as both show all his years of hard work to put food on the table.

On you it's your smile, Harry's been through a lot, but with you he feels like he's at home. Your smile brings a comfort to him he hasn't experienced in forever.

C is for Cum (Anything to do with cum):

Harry wants babies (If you have the equipment to make them) so always inside you. If you can't get pregnant he'll probably still cum inside just to avoid a big mess to clean but if he does make a mess it'll be a cold day in hell before he lets you clean it.

D is for Dirty Secret:

If he could get away with it, He'd lock you up in the house and never let you leave. The people outside, the ones who let him sit in that mine and almost die, don't deserve to see you or have you in their presence. Your his baby and he wants you all to himself.

E is for Experience (How experienced are they?):

Harry... isn't the most experienced person. You might have to help him along the first few times. He knows what goes where, and how to make you feel good, But in the actual sex department he's a bit lacking.

F is for Favorite Position:

Even though he hasn't had the most experience Harry fucks like a dog. Doggy style is his favorite by far. He likes bringing you to your hands and knees for him. Knowing he can do that to you and no one else can thrills him.

G is for Goofy (How serious are they?):

He isn't the most serious but he's not really goofy either? He's more so just really soft and fluffy during sex.

H is for Hair (How well groomed are they?):

It's a bit unruly since during his time in the minds he kinda lost the will to care for himself, so you might have to remind him to continue with the upkeep of it. If it gets too bad he takes care of it without reminder but don't be surprised if it slips his mind.

I is for Intimacy (How are they during the act, romantic etc):

Very romantic, He's all about wining and dining you. He's really into foreplay just to get the two of you in the mood but its the most tooth rotting foreplay you'll ever experience.

J is for Jackoff (Do they masturbate and how often?):

He does it every so often. If you were with him when the mine accident happen then he definitely jacked off to the thought of you in the mines to keep himself somewhat sane.

K is for Kink (Their kinks):

Praise kink: Tell this boy he's doing a good job and he'll cum on the spot whether he's inside you or not. You've made him cum in his pants more then once with this.

L is for Location (Favorite places to have sex):

At home in the bedroom. Like I said your his, he doesn't want anyone that isn't him looking at you in any type of way. He would have to end them if they did and he doesn't wanna have to be killing people 24/7.

M is for Motivation (What turns them on?):

The thought of wanting nothing more then to please you is what gets him going the most. He aims to please and wants you to be as satisfied as possible.

N is for No (Something they won't do):

No degrading you, No hitting you or even being mean. He's just not into it and would never even think about hurting you even if it was for fun during sex.

O is for Oral (Oral Preferences):

Major giver. He'll let you give him a blow job here and there but he loves giving you oral. If you ask him what he wants to eat nine times out of ten the answer will be you.

P is for Pace (How fast or slow? Are they rough?):

Slow and sensual all the way. He'll get a bit rough when he gets desperate but he wants to make love and make the most of it.

Q is for Quickie ( Do they like quickies?):

He hates quickies. Why would he go for a quickie when he can give you the actual real full fledged thing. If you like them that's fine but don't expect him to like them.

R is for Risk (Are they down to experiment?):

He'll experiment within reason, Like if it's something that may hurt you or anything, it's a hard no. However if you bring something up he finds interesting then he'll be down to try it out with you.

S if for Stamina (How long can they go for?):

This man used to be a miner, he has all the stamina in the world from doing that for years. He will give you breaks and stop after awhile but he could literally go for hours on end.

T is for Toys (Do they use toys and do they like them?):

He doesn't have much experience when it comes to toys so if you bring up one night you'd like to try them he's all for it. He might not like every single toy but there are a few he does really like and a lot that he loves to use on you.

U if for Unfair (Do they like to tease?):

He thinks teasing is mean, and he's not about to be mean to his baby. If you wanna tease him just a bit to get him worked up then go for it he doesn't mind but don't be too terribly mean to him just some playful teasing.

V is for Volume (How loud can they get?):

He grunts but that's about it, Harry isn't a big noise maker in general and he doesn't talk much either so don't expect sex to be any different.

W is for Wild Card (Random things):

Soft Harry is soft, he loves cuddles and really anything where he can just hang out with you. So after he runs your aftercare bath expect him to sit on the toilet and have him just hang out with you, no talking, just you and him being together.

X is for X-Ray (What are they packing):

Harry's got a big thick dick, About 8 inches and a good amount of girth to it.

Y is for Yearning (How high is their sex drive?):

High as fuck but only for you. He's never felt this way about anyone before and as far as he's concerned the sun rises and sets with you and so does his sex drive.

Z is for ZZZ (How fast do they fall asleep?):

He waits awhile. He likes to make sure your entirely ok before even thinking about sleeping. He also likes to cuddle and just hold you for awhile too. If you had any doubts of his feelings for you, you won't after this.

[baronessblixen]

Fictober Day 24: Steps Toward Tomorrow

Prompt: "You didn't do anything wrong"

Based on THIS post: What if Mulder had given Scully something other than that rag doll? Rating: T, wc: 1,026

Tagging @today-in-fic @xffictober24

Seeing Mulder's boyish smile and giddy excitement is all the gift she needs. She doesn't need the pizza or the present he keeps trying to hide, though it's clear he can't wait to give it to her.

“Sorry I’m not your regular pizza delivery guy,” he says.

“I like you better.”

“Oh, do you?” He grins at her. The scars on his face are still healing; as are his emotional wounds. She’s slipped him a pamphlet for therapy one morning without a single word. She didn’t want him to think she was pressuring him. The next day, he brought over breakfast to thank her, casually mentioning he’d made an appointment. He’s moving forward, and so are they.

“You sure you don’t want to eat?” he asks, chewing his pizza with gusto. She wants to ask him whether he’s eaten at all while she was in the hospital but bites her lip. She knows he can take care of himself. With the pregnancy, she’s feeling the need to mother everything and everyone around her. Including Mulder.

“Later,” she replies softly, as Mulder clears his throat and, with mock ceremony, retrieves the present he’s half-heartedly hidden between the couch pillows.

“I bet you forgot about that, didn’t you?” She takes the neatly wrapped gift from him with a smile.

“No, actually. I thought about it a lot while I was lying in my hospital bed, wondering what on earth you could have given me.” He’s already given her so much. Does he even realize that? Glancing at him, she isn’t sure. But right now he’s waiting for her to unwrap the small gift box.

She takes her time, knowing it drives Mulder crazy. To her greatest surprise, he waits patiently, his hands folded in his lap. She gives him another smile and that’s when she sees how nervous he is. What reason would he have to be anxious?

Under the wrapping paper, she finds a plain cardboard box. She opens the flaps on each side and peeks inside. A gasp leaves her throat as she reaches for the small baseball mitt that’s lying there.

“Oh, Mulder,” she whispers, a knot of tears forming in her throat. She takes the mitt out and lets her fingers run over the leather, worn smooth by years of use. The caramel is faded in some places, has darkened in others. Once upon a time, a small boy must have loved this mitt more than anything else. A tear falls into the center of the mitt, right next to a scratch that makes her think of long summer afternoons spent outside.

“Is it what you imagined?” Mulder asks in a quiet voice.

“Not even close,” she admits. She can’t stop touching the glove, following its lines, and feeling the weight of it in her hand. The history it brings with it. The love it holds inside.

“I don’t know what to say.” She’s crying big tears now, unable to hold her emotions at bay any longer.

“Hey,” Mulder says, putting his arm around her and holding her close. “I didn’t mean to- I didn’t…”

“You didn’t do anything wrong, Mulder,” she assures him with a sound stuck between a hiccup and a laugh. “It’s the hormones. I love your present. I love it.” She repeats the words to let him know she means them.

She stares into his eyes, seeing him all blurry. She thinks there might be tears on his cheeks too. He wipes at her eyes and her cheeks with his thumb and there he is, the man she loves, the father of her child, smiling at her.

“You’re not just saying that?”

“No.” She leans over and kisses him on the lips. What had become so normal last year, is new all over again. Being allowed to touch and kiss each other. To love. They’re moving forward in this regard, too, both learning to overcome their fear of hurting the other with their touch. Their bodies have changed in so many different ways.

“This gift it… it comes with a second gift.” Scully peers back into the box. It’s empty.

“It’s not in there,” Mulder explains. “It’s not a traditional gift. It’s- this baseball mitt meant the world to me when I was five or six. Where other kids slept with a stuffed animal, I had my mitt. No matter how dirty it was. You can imagine how much my mom hated it.” He smiles and she does, too, happy that he has these beautiful memories of his childhood locked in his heart.

“I grew out of the mitt and got a new one. Several, actually. Samantha had it for a while, but she never cared for baseball. I thought my parents had thrown it away, but I found it when we cleared out my mom’s house. I saw it and I thought… you know, I don’t remember whether my dad played catch with me or if it was someone else. I don’t remember. And I don’t want that to happen to this one.” He points at her stomach.

“I want to teach him – or her. I want it to be me.” Tears fall soundlessly from her eyes and she doesn’t make a move to wipe them away or hide them. “I want to teach our kid how to play baseball,” Mulder says, his voice thick with emotion.

“I want that, too.” She takes his hand into hers and puts their entwined hands on her stomach. She thinks their child is sleeping, but then she feels a kick, and Mulder gasps.

“I will never get tired of this,” he says in awe, staring at her belly. He lifts his eyes to meet hers. “Still like my gift?”

“I love your gift, Mulder. You’ve given me so much. This one included.” She motions at the spot where her sweater stretches over her protruding stomach.

“My pleasure.” The baby kicks again, this time more forceful. “I think Junior might be hungry. You like pizza, kiddo, don’t you?” Mulder speaks the words directly against her stomach before he kisses her there. There’s no kick, but Scully’s stomach grumbles, making her and Mulder chuckle.

[koffeesfancy]

3. “I know you better” | Janelle Monáe x Reader

Summary: There's no way your boss is jealous of your coworker, right?

Rating: Mature

Genre: Romance, smut

Word Count: 2759

A/N: Back for Fictober Day 3! This time with spice. Feedback always appreciated <3

Taglist: @lyfeofbilly @prettymrswright @onyxstones-world

You were fiddling with the coffee machine, determined to figure it out without spilling coffee everywhere, when—

“Boo!”

You jumped, nearly spilling your cup. “Victoria!” you shouted, spinning around. “Seriously?”

Victoria leaned against the counter, grinning, her bright brown eyes full of mischief. “What? You looking way too focused on that. I had to.”

“I’m trying not to break it,” you muttered, shaking your head. “That’s basically my goal today—don’t break anything.”

Victoria laughed, her balayaged hair bouncing as she flipped it back into place with her claw clip. “Good job then, sis. You ain’t explode anything yet, did you?”

“Not yet,” you sighed. “But there’s still time. Director Robinson’s probably waiting for me to mess up her schedule again.”

Victoria raised an eyebrow, clearly amused. “You still stressing over that? It ain’t like she would fire you. She’d have to start doing her own work if she did.”

“She’s not that bad,” you said, a little defensively. “She’s just… different.”

Victoria’s grin widened. “Different, huh? Like the singing in the middle of meetings or showing up to work dressed like an extra on the Purple Rain set?”

You crossed your arms. “So what? She’s quirky. That doesn’t mean she’s not good at her job.”

“I mean, sure,” Victoria said, laughing softly, “but let’s keep it a buck, it’s hard to take her seriously when she’s humming Rick James in the elevator.”

You couldn’t help but smile a little. “Okay, fine, she’s a little weird. But she’s under a lot of pressure. Plus, she’s actually really nice.”

“Oh, I know she’s nice,” Victoria said, “just… not in a ‘boss’ way. More like a freaky auntie.”

You snorted. “She’s definitely got her own style.”

“That’s one way to put it,” Victoria said with a wink. “But look, you only been here a few months, and you’re already on top of it. If you got past the singing and outfits, you should be alright.”

You laughed, feeling some of the tension ease. “Thanks. I’m just trying not to get fired.”

“Girl, please,” Victoria said, waving you off. “You’re her right hand. She’d probably get lost in her own office without you.”

“Yeah, because marketing’s so much less chaotic, right?” you teased, finally starting to relax.

“Hey, at least we don’t get musical numbers in the middle of the day,” Victoria shot back, grinning. “But if you need a break from all that, I’m always up for lunch. We can talk shit about my punk ass supervisor.”

“Deal,” you said, smiling. “And thanks for the jump scare. You really know how to brighten someone’s day.”

“Anytime,” she said, raising her mug. “Here’s to surviving another day with our sanity mostly intact.”

“Barely,” you said, clinking your cup against hers.

You and Victoria were in the middle of laughing when Director Robinson appeared in the doorway, catching you both off guard. She leaned in with an easy, almost casual smile. Her short frame was draped in a burnt orange suit, adorned with funky accessories that somehow worked despite their oddity. Her chocolate skin seemed to glow against the bold color, and your gaze lingered on her long eyelashes and babydoll-like face, framed by doe eyes, soft cheeks, and a button nose. You felt a strange flutter in your chest, an unexplainable warmth as you took in her beauty, though you couldn’t quite understand why.

“Well, well, well,” she said smoothly, her voice cutting through the room like velvet. “Look at you two, thick as thieves. I’ve been searching high and low for you.”

You straightened up, your grip tightening on your coffee cup. “Oh, sorry, Director. I was just taking a break with Victoria.”

“Mmhmm.” Robinson’s eyes flicked to Victoria, then back to you, her smile widening. “And what exactly were you discussing? I hope I’m not interrupting anything… personal.”

Victoria shot you a playful look, clearly amused. “Just catching up. Nothing too juicy, Director.”

Robinson’s gaze lingered on Victoria a little too long before she turned back to you, her smile never faltering. “Catching up, are we? How delightful. Well, Victoria, I’m sure your little corner of the building misses you desperately. Don’t let me keep you from… whatever it is you do.” Her tone remained light, almost whimsical, but there was no mistaking the undertone of dismissal.

Victoria chuckled, giving you a wink. “See you around.” And with that, she slipped out, leaving you alone with the Director, whose focus shifted entirely to you.

She took a step closer, eyes narrowing slightly in a way that made you feel like she knew more than she should. “Now, Miss,” she began, her voice low and conspiratorial. “You and Victoria seem… cozy. How long have you two been ‘catching up,’ exactly?”

You felt the heat rise to your face. “Oh, we’re just friends,” you stammered. “We used to be interns together, that’s all.”

Robinson raised an eyebrow, her smile playful yet knowing. “Mmm, I’m sure. But here’s something to think about,” she said, leaning in with a wink. “Spend too much time with Victoria, and you might catch her vibe. She’s got that energy, always looking at you a little too closely, don’t you think? Could cramp your style… unless you like that kind of attention.” She flashed a sardonic grin, as if you were both in on a secret.

You blinked, completely thrown. “Wait, you think—No, it’s not like that at all. We’re really just friends.”

Robinson’s eyes gleamed with something you couldn’t quite place. “Of course, of course,” she said, her tone smooth as silk. “Just looking out for you. I’d hate to see anything… unnecessary develop.”

You swallowed hard, feeling like you were trapped in some bizarre game. “I appreciate the concern, but seriously, there’s nothing going on.”

“Good,” the Director said, straightening up, her tone slipping back into that easy, natural flow. “I’m sure you’ve got better things to focus on than office romances. Now, let’s get back to it. I have some exciting new ideas for the filing system that are going to blow your mind.”

You followed her out, still trying to process the whole conversation, wondering how a coffee break with Victoria had spiraled into this weird, almost flirty lecture. But then again, that was Director Robinson—always leaving you more confused than when you started.

You’d been sorting through a mountain of documents for three hours, the office now eerily quiet after everyone else had filtered out. You leaned back against the desk, squinting at the papers under the dim light of a desk lamp, the glow casting a warm hue that felt strangely intimate in the silence.

Just as you were about to dive back into your work, you heard the soft sound of footsteps approaching. Before you could turn, the Director’s voice wafted over your shoulder, smooth and easy, sending a jolt of surprise through you. “You’ve really got a knack for this, you know.”

You jumped slightly, then turned your head to see her standing there, a steaming mug of coffee in one hand and a relaxed smile on her lips. “Oh, hey, Director,” you said, trying to play it cool but feeling your heart race.

She leaned in closer, her breath warm against your ear as she glanced over the papers. “You’re doing a fantastic job,” she continued, her tone casual yet intimate. “Really. These documents are starting to look more like an organized masterpiece than the usual chaotic mess.”

You shifted slightly, acutely aware of her presence. “Thanks, I’m just trying to keep up.”

“Ah, but you’re more than just keeping up,” she said, gently rubbing your right shoulder as she continued to read over your left. The warmth of her touch was unexpected, sending a shiver down your spine. “It’s all about that attention to detail. Tell me, how do you manage to stay so composed while everyone else is running around like headless chickens?”

You swallowed hard, trying to maintain your focus on the documents, but her proximity was distracting. “I guess I just try to stay organized. It helps me avoid mistakes,” you replied, your voice coming out steadier than you felt.

“Mmm, good approach,” she said, taking a sip of her coffee. “But let’s be honest. There’s more to life than just work, don’t you think?” She paused, her gaze lingering on you with an intensity that made your pulse quicken. “What do you do for fun outside these walls?”

You felt a flutter of nerves at the question. “I—uh, not much lately. Just focusing on settling in.”

Janelle tilted her head slightly, her eyes narrowing playfully. “Just settling in, huh? No hobbies? No wild nights out? Come now, you can’t tell me a bright star like you has no scandalous stories to share.”

You felt your cheeks heat up, the way she was looking at you making it difficult to find your voice. “Not really. I’m not that interesting.”

“Oh, I beg to differ,” she said, leaning in even closer, her tone conspiratorial. “I bet there’s a little rebel in you, waiting to escape. A night out, perhaps? Or maybe someone special who’s been keeping your attention?”

You chuckled nervously, trying to brush off the question. “Honestly, it’s just work. I haven’t had time for anything else.”

The Director’s laughter was warm and inviting, but it felt charged, like the air before a storm. “Poor thing, you really need learn to carve out time for yourself. Life’s too short to be all work and no play. Besides,” she added, her voice dropping to a more intimate whisper, “you should call me Janelle. No need for formalities when it’s just the two of us.”

The way she said your name sent another rush of heat through you. You nodded, the words catching in your throat. “Okay, Janelle…”

“Much better,” she said, her voice silky as she straightened up, releasing your shoulder. “Now, tell me about your ideal weekend. What does that look like for you?”

You hesitated, the intimacy of the moment wrapping around you like a blanket. “Um, I guess just hanging out with friends, maybe going out for dinner or something.”

Janelle leaned back, crossing her arms and regarding you with a mix of curiosity and mischief. “Dinner, you say? With friends or a special someone?”

You couldn’t help but fidget, the question landing heavier than expected. “Just friends. Really. I mean, it’s not like—”

Janelle interrupted, her eyes sparkling with interest. “Not like what? Come now, I promise I don’t bite… much.” She smiled, tilting her head slightly, as if genuinely interested in the answer.

You bit your lip, glancing away, feeling like you were trapped in a delicate dance. “Just friends. That’s all. Nothing romantic going on.”

Janelle studied you for a moment, and the room felt charged with unspoken tension. “Well, I’d say you’re due for a little romance, don’t you think?”

Your heart raced, a mix of excitement and trepidation swirling inside you as you met her gaze, feeling like you were teetering on the edge of something unknown.

You watched Janelle with a mixture of fascination and apprehension, her gaze intense as she leaned closer, her body practically brushing against yours. She placed her coffee down with deliberate care, the movement slow and almost theatrical, as if she were choreographing a moment.

“Really,” she said, her voice dropping to a seductive whisper, “I think what you need is someone who knows how to treat you right. Someone with a bit more... experience.”

Your heart raced as she stepped closer, effectively caging you between her body and the desk, the warmth of her presence enveloping you. The sudden proximity made it hard to breathe, and you could feel the tension in the air thicken like molasses. 

“What do you mean by ‘experience’?” you managed to ask, your voice barely above a whisper as you tried to keep your composure.

Janelle tilted her head, a teasing smile playing on her lips. “Oh, you know. Someone who understands what a woman like you truly deserves. Someone who can take charge, show you what you’ve been missing. You may think you know what you want, but…” She leaned in even closer, her eyes locked onto yours, the intensity of her gaze sending a shiver down your spine. “I know you better.”

Your heart raced as her words wrapped around you like a spell, making it difficult to form a coherent thought. “I—”

“Shh,” she interrupted, her finger gently resting against your lips. “Just imagine it. Someone who can help you unwind after a long week. Someone who knows how to treat you, to bring out that wild side you’re hiding.”

You swallowed hard, caught between the thrill of her words and the uncertainty of the moment. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Janelle’s expression shifted, her gaze piercing into yours with an intensity that felt like a challenge. “Oh, but you do. Deep down, you crave something more, don’t you? Someone older, someone who knows how to navigate... complicated feelings.” She leaned in even closer, her breath warm against your skin. “Isn’t that right?”

Your breath hitched in your throat as you met her gaze, the playful teasing morphing into something more serious, more alluring. It felt like she was unraveling something inside you, and you didn’t know whether to lean in or pull away.

“Janelle, I—” you started, but she cut you off again, her voice low and sultry.

“Just think about it,” she said, her body barely an inch away from yours. “You deserve to be treated like the treasure you are. Let me show you what I mean.”

The room felt charged, every word hanging in the air like a dare, and you couldn’t shake the feeling that this moment was only the beginning of something that could change everything.

The tension in the room was electric, wrapping around you like a tightly wound coil ready to snap. Janelle's gaze locked onto yours, her presence overwhelming as she leaned closer, her body nearly pressed against yours. The air was thick with anticipation, and every second felt like a countdown to something inevitable.

“Just think about it,” she murmured, her voice low and sultry, sending shivers down your spine. “You deserve someone who knows how to bring out the real you. Someone who isn’t afraid to take what they want.”

Before you could process the weight of her words, Janelle surged forward, her lips crashing against yours with a fierce intensity that left you breathless. It was no gentle kiss; it was primal and demanding, igniting a fire deep within you. Her mouth moved against yours with a desperation that was intoxicating, a raw force that sent your heart racing.

You gasped, caught off guard, but instinct took over as you melted into her, your hands finding their way to her arms. Janelle deepened the kiss, her tongue brushing against yours with a boldness that made your head spin. The heat radiating from her body enveloped you, and you felt yourself being pulled into her orbit, losing track of everything else in the world.

Janelle’s hands gripped your waist, pushing you back against the desk, trapping you in place. The urgency of her touch sent shockwaves through you, igniting a wild craving you didn’t know you had. You could feel the tension building between you, an undeniable chemistry that simmered just below the surface.

As she pulled back slightly, her lips barely brushing against yours, you could see the hunger in her eyes—an insatiable need that mirrored your own. “I know you want this,” she breathed, her voice thick with desire. “Don’t pretend you don’t feel it.”

You blinked, your mind racing, but before you could formulate a response, Janelle closed the gap again, kissing you harder, more forcefully this time. It was as if she was claiming you, each movement deliberate and commanding, as if she were saying without words that this was where you belonged.

You were lost in the moment, your heart pounding in your chest as your body instinctively responded to her. The world outside faded away, and all that mattered was the heat between you, the way she made you feel—alive, desired, and utterly consumed.

“God, you’re perfect,” Janelle murmured against your lips, her breath warm and intoxicating. “Just give in.”

Your heart raced as her kiss deepened again, her hands roaming your sides possessively. It was a whirlwind of passion, urgency, and a hint of danger that left you craving more, and you couldn’t shake the feeling that this was just the beginning of something explosive.