#drabble (??)

[superbat-love]

Omegaverse AU. The annual Gotham Matchmaking Event was in full swing. Bruce Wayne, towering over the alphas and omegas around him, moved through the room with an unapproachable aura. The whispers followed him, just like they always did.

"Wayne’s so assertive. Doesn’t act like an omega at all," someone muttered.

"He should stop pretending to be above his station," another added with a laugh.

Bruce pretended not to hear them, his jaw tightening as he positioned himself near the door for an easy exit. If not for the fact that these matchmaking events were mandatory for all unmated omegas of age, he would have refused the invitation outright.

A new arrival caught his attention. The man’s tanned skin and wavy hair stood out, he didn’t seem to be from Gotham. His name tag read "Kal."

Bruce watched the foreigner as he mingled with the other guests. Kal’s alpha status was obvious, but unlike most alphas, he radiated warmth and charm. People naturally gravitated toward him, drawn to his approachable demeanor. The double standards grated on Bruce more than he cared to admit.

Until Kal’s gaze found his.

The alpha froze, wide-eyed as he stared at Bruce. Bruce glared at the shorter man. It usually kept alphas at bay.

No such luck. Kal approached him anyway.

"Have you heard of Kryptonian queens?" Kal asked.

Bruce blinked, caught off guard by the question. "What?"

"In Kryptonian legends, queens were the biggest, strongest omegas in the colony. They either earned the title by winning dominance battles or left to establish new colonies on distant outposts," Kal said, his voice filled with awe. "You’re like a legend brought to life."

Bruce’s guarded expression faltered. Despite the absurdity of the alpha’s words, there was something in his tone—genuine respect—that made him pause.

And Bruce found himself listening.

[celiababy]

already in love w ur page! i would love to see dads bestfriend joel from you!!

hi! thank u sm!! and ofc coming right up on a very hot and steamy platter 😛

Not Your Daddy

Pairing: Pre-outbreak!Joel Miller x f!reader

Summary: You're back from your first year at college. You've changed and Joel is quick to notice.

Warnings: 18+ SMUT MDNI, age gap (36/19), swearing, p in v, size kink, loss of virginity, unprotected sex, fingering, oral (fem!recieving) no Sarah, alcohol

Celia's note: Heres jus a lil something :) (not proofread sorry) also part 3 of ain't right is coming so so soon I promise!!

Joel Miller and your father were good friends.

When you and your dad moved in next door a little over three years ago, they hit it off quickly. Their tendency to take on random jobs for cash is what bonded them. Also sports.

You were shy then, never able to hold eye contact and always avoiding him whenever he was around.

But thankfully, you've grown into a woman. Your first year at college changed you.

Now, you were back for the summer, eager to sleep in your own bed and spend time with your home-town friends.

But honestly, you were most excited to see Joel.

You wanted him to see how much you've grown. See how mature you've become, how confident.

You always had a little crush on him—mostly because he was the kindest out of all your dad's friends.

You also wanted him to be the one to pop your cherry.

You were a virgin, and kinda always fantasized about Joel being the one to take it from you.

Sure, you’ve done some stuff with guys, but never gone all the way. You were saving that for him.

You knew it wouldn't take long until he made an appearance.

Your dad had offered to host a small get-together to celebrate you being back. He would barbecue in the backyard and hold bets for the basketball game.

It was really just an excuse for him to break out the grill and gamble, but you didn't care. Only because you knew Joel would be there.

You even put on your shortest white sundress and blew out your hair for the occasion.

Your body was buzzing with the idea of seeing him again.

You wondered if he had changed at all.

Your mind started spiraling at the thought.

What if he had changed? What if he was dating someone now? What if he was engaged?

You glanced in the mirror at your nearly perfect reflection and suddenly felt so silly. What if this was all for nothing?

You didn't have long to ponder that thought because the doorbell rings.

You peak out your window and see Joel's truck in the driveway.

Your dad answers the door downstairs, the faint murmur of voices distracting your ears.

The anticipation was gnawing at you like a hungry dog.

After collecting your nerves, you slowly descend the stairs to meet them in the kitchen.

The loud cussing gave away their location. "You've lost your damn mind if you think there's a chance in hell the Privateers of all fucking teams are gonna beat—oh, hey darlin'," Your dad greets you, clearing his throat like he wasn't just cussing out Joel.

His back is to you, but when he turns around, your heart fucking ignites.

He's just as handsome as the day you left. He looks momentarily stunned by you, his eyes flickering all over your figure. God—how was it possible for someone to change so much? You looked more than amazing.

He immediately feels ashamed for basically checking you out in front of your dad, his eyes snapping back up to your face.

"Christ kid, they feedin' you up there at A&M?" He teases before stepping in for a hug.

He even smells the same as he did all those months ago, pine and smoke. You feel relieved.

It seems like the only thing thats different about him is a few gray hairs.

"Hey Joel," you greet with a giddy smile, hugging him back and relishing in his warmth. "How are you?"

Joel is very surprised. He almost doesn't recognize you. You're so much more...more.

"M'alright, aside from the fact that your dad's gonna give me a fuckin' aneurysm one of these days."

You laugh and shake your head. "Fighting about the game tonight?"

"Yeah, this fuckin' asshat thinks the longhorns might lose tonight—messin' up the whole fuckin' mojo," Your dad rambles, his voice beginning to raise before the doorbell rings again. "I'll get that, need to get away from this traitor." He snorts before heading to the door and leaving you both alone.

Joel rolls his eyes before landing his gaze back onto you and your cute little sundress. He crosses his arms over his chest and turns to face you with his body.

"You behavin' up there at school?" He asks light-heartedly, though you find it excruciatingly hard not to reply in some suggestive way.

"Mhm," You hum unconvincingly with a charmingly guilty smile, holding back a laugh.

Joel cocks a brow, pretending to look at you judgmentally. "Lyin’ is a sin, y’know." He huffs, a smile creeping on his lips.

“I’ve been good, just a lotta temptations s’all..” You murmur softly, your body naturally drifting closer to Joel by swaying on your feet.

The tension in the room is palpable.

“Oh yeah?” He tilts his head the tiniest bit to the side, his voice dropping what seemed like several octaves.

In fear of your voice cracking when giving a verbal response, you opt for a nod of your head, but then shrug just to tease him.

He glares at you but then scoffs, shaking his head.

"When'd you become such a little shit-stirrer, huh?" He chides, reaching over to ruffle the top of your hair.

You laugh before pushing his hand away, your fingers lingering on his wrist for longer than it needed to.

His skin is warm, he's almost hot to the touch. You're having a very hard time tearing your eyes away from his face.

All the sudden, your father calls you into the other room.

"Get in here! Max and Ruby wanna hear about your classes." Max and Ruby being your neighbors who had undoubtedly stopped by for the party.

You peer up at Joel, your eyes almost begging him to ask you to stay. But instead, he gestures with his head for you to listen to your dad.

"Go on now," He husks out, sliding his hands into the pockets of his jeans.

Reluctantly you leave him behind in the kitchen, your body still whirring with the adrenaline high you got from just talking to him.

***

It was nice seeing everyone that stopped by for the party. You hadn't realized how much you missed your people.

But Joel was making it hard to concentrate on conversation when you guys were playing eye-tag the entire night.

He really couldn't help himself. There was just something so magnetic about you now—it was impossible to tear his eyes away.

He watched you talk to some of your high school friends, then get up to fetch something from the kitchen.

He couldn’t stop his gaze from falling to your ass once you turned around, his cock twitching in his pants because of the way your dress taunts him with its length.

He clears his throat.

Fuck was he thinking.

This was you he was ogling for christ sake. His best friends daughter.

These thoughts were not allowed. He needed to shut this down.

But the night goes on anyway, people getting more drunk and rowdy with each passing second.

Especially your father, who was currently in a screaming match with his work buddy about the game. They're all crowded around the small box tv in the kitchen, intently watching the tiny screen.

You're watching them from afar, amused by your father and the absurdity of it all.

"Ah fuck, we're outta ice," your dad groans, lifting up the empty bowl in annoyance. "Alright, one of you sons of bitches needs'ta make an ice run, m'not missing this game."

Joel groans out, dragging his hand down his jaw. "We're obviously gonna win—the team's up 46. Make the damn run yourself." He berates your father, who in turn just shakes his head and waves a dismissive hand at Joel.

"Every time I don't watch the game to completion, we fuckin' lose. M'staying riiiight here."

"Fuckin' superstitious bastard." Joel groans from under his breath, picking up his truck keys from the counter. "You want some more beer while I'm out? Maybe my liver too? God knows you need a new one, goddamn alcoholic."

You're laughing at them in the corner, finding their banter extremely amusing.

Then, you suddenly realize this might be your chance to spend more alone time with Joel.

You lurch forward, quickly blocking his path. "Can I come with?"

He looks down at you, a barely noticeable smile tugging at the corner of his lips. He's just about to reply to you before your drunk father cuts in.

"Ya, go with him, he can't carry the ice by himself or else his back’ll give out."

Joel turns his head to yell at your dad. "Shut your damn mouth," he barks, then turns back around to face you, placing his hand on your lower back. "'Course sweetheart, c'mon."

The drastic change in his voice when he talks to you versus your father makes your heart flutter.

He guides you outside to his truck, only dropping his arm from your back when he opens the passenger door for you.

Hopping inside, you settle yourself into the worn down bench seat. Your eyes follow him as he rounds the front of the vehicle, swinging open the driver side door and cranking the engine.

His old country music starts blaring from the speakers of the car, accompanied by the loud drum of his engine.

He’s quick to whip out of the driveway, steering with one muscular arm on the wheel.

You want to drool at the sight—you know your other lips most certainly are.

"So, you got a boyfriend up there at school?" He asks after clearing his throat.

He wants to subtly test the waters, whether he knows it now or not.

You smile, the thought of dating any guy besides Joel was laughable.

"Nope. They're all kinda gross."

"Gross? Yeah, well, most guys your age are." He mumbles, thinking back to his late teens, early twenties—Yikes.

"What about you? Got a woman yet?" You ask, following his line of questioning.

Joel scoffs, keeping his eyes trained on the road. “Does it look like I got a woman in my life?”

He looks down at himself for a second to get his point across, making you follow his gaze.

His wrinkly navy shirt had paint stains on it, his jeans were so old, they looked one wash away from disintegrating, and his beard needed a trim.

You try to stifle your giggle by turning your head away. “Yeah, guess not.”

Your mind starts wandering off, imagining what being Joel's woman would look like...having dinner together...sharing a bed...showering together...

God you wanted to be his girl so bad.

You hear yourself speaking before you even know what you’re saying. “Maybe I can help you—y'know, find a woman n’all.”

Joel casts you an assessing glance, cocking his eyebrow.

“Oh yeah? N’how would you do that?”

He doesn’t even mean to sound sexy but the way he talks makes you wanna melt.

“Well, for starters, a haircut might do you some good.” You tease, scooting closer to him on the bench seat to fiddle with the overgrown hair by his neck.

The way your body is turned to face him gives Joel a clear view down the front of your dress, the skin of your breasts making his cock twitch.

“What’re you talkin’ about? My hair looks great.” Joel knows he’s lying, but he just wants to see you laugh.

Which you do. “Yea, maybe to a blind chick.”

“Oh, you got jokes, huh?” Joel chides, using his free hand to come up and playfully tug at your hair.

You erupt in giggles, swatting his hand away while simultaneously trying to tug his hair back.

Eventually, you two stop messing with each other, but you reiterate that you're serious.

"I mean it—it’d be super fun giving you a make-over."

Joel pulls into the gas station and shifts his truck into park.

"You've lost your damn mind if you think I'm gonna let you get anywhere near my head with clippers."

You roll your eyes and giggle, following him out of the vehicle.

"C'monnn, it'll be fun!" You squeal, trailing behind him as he walks into the store, the bell chiming as you both enter.

He pretends to ignore you, walking along the isles to the freezer section.

"I'll be super careful," You muse, snagging a bag of skittles from off one of the shelves before he can notice.

“I promise I won’t fuck up your cut.” You joke, laughing at yourself.

“Hey—watch it.” Joel warns when hearing your profanity, snapping back to look at you, only half-joking.

You roll your eyes—it's ironic coming from him who cusses like a sailor. You brush past him as he opens the freezer, letting your back lean against one of the glass doors, facing him.

"You're not my daddy, y'know. Can't tell me what to do." You purr, a shit-eating grin beginning to form on your perfect face.

Joel feels his blood pressure spike.

You're making this impossible for him and you know it.

His body moves for him before he can stop himself.

After he grabs two ice bags, he closes the freezer and subsequently steps closer to you, popping your personal space bubble.

"You're right. M'not your daddy." He husks, looking down at you and your parted lips. Your chests are centimeters away from each other, and you find yourself holding your breath. “Consider yourself lucky.”

The way he’s looking down at you like prey yet speaking so nonchalantly has your brain spinning. There was definitely an underlying threat in his words.

Before you can respond, he’s turned around and walking up to the register, throwing down a 10 dollar bill and telling the cashier to keep the change.

Science can’t explain the drastic acceleration your heart rate just experienced—but you can.

Joel fucking Miller.

He had to be insinuating something, right?

Your face is hot and so is the rest of your body, stumbling to catch up with him as he walks out the store.

He lugs the ice into his trunk like nothing happened, the tension in his muscles catching your eyes.

Yet, he still comes around to the passenger side, opening the door for you.

Now was your chance to get him back.

You lift yourself up in the truck, purposefully climbing into the bench seat in a way that gave Joel a clear view of your ass—as well as your thong that wasn't really covering much.

His hand clamps down so hard on the car handle that it nearly crumbles under his grip.

You hear him clear his throat before the door slams shut next to you, making you jump a bit.

When he passes in the front windshield, he's shaking his head and dragging a hand down his scruffy jaw. You can't help but giggle at his exasperated expression.

His takes longer to get into the car and start things up this time, trying real hard not to meet your instense gaze.

When he refuses to make eye contact, you huff out a breath and rip open your skittles bag.

This catches Joel's attention.

"You pay for that?"

"...sure." You murmur unconvincingly with a shrug, trying not to smile. "Want some?"

He watches as you pop a few in your mouth, holding out the bag for him.

Begrungingly, he grumbles out a 'yeah' and holds out his palm.

***

The party had fizzled out when you guys returned. There were a few stranglers sitting around and chatting, but for the most part, things seemed to be dying down.

So much for the ice.

Your dad and his friends had migrated to the living room and once Joel put the bags away, he joined them.

He sat on the couch with a grunt, his legs immediately settling into the manspreading position.

You tried not to drool but your mouth was definitely salivating. To avoid moaning just at the sight of him, you head upstairs, the old wood boards creaking beneath your feet.

You don't see it, but Joel's got his eyes on you, following you with his gaze till you're out of sight.

He feels guilty thinking about how much he wants to fuck you when he's literally sitting right next to your father, but he can't help himself.

It's a while before you come back down, when you do, theres a razor in one hand, clippers in the other.

"No." Joel instantly says, shaking his head.

"Yes." You squeal, beaming down at him.

"Awh, go on Joel, you been needin' a clean up." Your dad chimes in, smacking his shoulder. His other buddies encourage it until he has no choice than to give in just so everyone would shut up.

"Fine—fine. Y'all gon' get yours, thats for damn sure." Joel grumbles, stomping up the stairs.

You're laughing all the way up, bubbling with excitement.

"Come down and give us the reveal when you're done!" Your dad screams to which you giggle.

You basically shove Joel into your bathroom, pulling in a stool for him to sit on.

"You better know what yer doin'." He grunts, sitting down on the stool and looking at you with weary eyes.

"Anything I do to you would look better than what you have now."

Joel promptly stands back up when hearing your words, trying to walk away, but you grab onto his arm. "I'm kidding, I’m kidding! I promise I'll do a good job."

You press on his shoulders to sit him down again, your throat running dry when you see the way he’s glaring up at you.

He’s not actually angry—just a bit peeved that he doesn’t have enough self control to stop thinking about fucking you against the bathroom sink.

You start working, none the wiser, bringing the electric razor to his jaw.

Your bodies are close, Joel can smell your delicious perfume and it makes him wanna eat you up.

You start to notice how sometimes his eyes will flicker to your chest, before abrupdtly looking away and clearing his throat.

Your boobs did look great in this dress, maybe you should give him a better view...

The devilish thought pops in your brain and you're acting it out before you know it.

You set the razor down and grab the clippers, stepping around to the front of his body. "May I?" You murmur, not even waiting for his answer before straddling his lap.

You sit on his thighs and Joel feels himself straighten like a board.

“Kid—what do you think yer doin’?” He immediately sputters out, his expression stern.

He’s trying so hard not to look down at where your dress had ridden up from straddling him. He can almost see your cunt, for christ sake.

“Nothin’.” You murmur, bringing your shaking hand up to trim the hair on his jaw. You curse at yourself for not even having the wits to keep calm, you just know your flushed fave is giving you away.

“Nothin’, huh?” Joel reiterates, completely unbelieving as his eyes drag down your body slowly.

Then, everything shifts.

There’s something more assertive in Joel’s demeanor that you can’t quite put your finger on, but you know it’s there.

You feel his calloused hand on your thigh, your body erupting in goosebumps when he travels it up dangerously high. Using his other hand, he grips your wrist, pulling it down and away from his face.

“Doesn’t look like nothin’ to me.” His voice is a low murmur.

You’re both locked in eye contact now, hearts beating in sync.

He hears your breath hitch and sees how your eyes are flashing between his gaze and lips. He knows what you’re after—he’s just not sure if he wants to give in yet.

You, on the other hand, are dying of anticipation. He’s not budging, so you’re left to drag your hips up his lap and press down on the bulge in his pants.

"Girl—" He growls out before his hands come up to stop your waist from moving any further. "You don't know what your doin'."

"Do I have to fucking spell it out for you, Joel?" You rush out, dropping the scissors and latching onto his shoulders. You're panting and your face is pink, a needy/irritated expression woven into your features.

He feels your nails digging into his shoulder blades and sees that desperate look in your eyes—he's done for.

"No, I won't make ya do that f'me, sweet heart." He murmurs before abruptly picking you up from under your thighs.

A squeak of surprise leaves your lips at his effortless display of strength. You swallow your nerves after he sets you down on the counter, lodging himself between your legs.

"But I am gon make you say it."

Is he teasing you?

No, his face looks too serious for him to be teasing.

Oh, maybe he just wants clear clarification.

Your heart swells at his consideration.

Sucking in a deep breath, "I want your dick in my vagina." You giggle out, knowing he was probably expecting sexier wording. Joel smirks, crashing his forehead against yours.

"Yeah? S'that what you want?"

You're nodding against him, smiling wide because you just admitted something that you never thought you would.

"N'have you done that before? Y'know, dick in vagina." He copies your candance, but you stop smiling.

Out of all the fucking questions, that was the one that you didn't want to be asked the most.

You had hoped if you came on strong and flirted like you had done it a million times, he would've just assumed you weren't a virgin.

But the bastard always had to be so careful.

You didn't want him to know because you figured it would turn him off—then all you'd become is his best friend’s daughter all over again.

You knew if you lied he would just sniff it out anyway, but you tried nonetheless.

"...Yea. Couple times."

You watch as Joel's face forms into a 'yea right' kind of expression before he sighs out.

"Why'a lyin' to me, kid?"

You groan, throwing your head back and hitting the mirror with the back of your skull.

"Thats why—I don't want you thinking I'm a kid anymore. M'not. I'm grown. I'm grown and I want..your dick in my vagina."

He scoffs, dragging a hand down in jaw in disbelief. "Lyin' ain’t a good way to show me your grown."

He was right. You hated that he was right.

Your face crumbles because you think you just ruined this whole thing. Yet, Joel's hands come up to cup your face, holding them there a moment before they drift down to rest on your neck.

"S'alright, you're alright. M'not mad at'cha." He reassures, making sure you're looking in his eyes before he continues. "M'flattered sweetheart, I really am but-"

"Please don't say some bullshit like you don't think you're the man for this job because trust me when I say this Joel, you're the only guy I've ever wanted to be with."

You gush out, your mouth a leaky faucet. But Joel still looks conflicted.

You figured now would be a good time to bring out the big guns.

"If you won't do it cus I'm a virgin, I'll just have sex with the first guy I see, how about that?"

Joel's eyes darken and his jaw clenches. Now you've just pissed him off. "Don't manipulate me like that." He says sternly, to which you immediately falter in your confidence.

"I'm sorry, I don't know why I said that. I didn't mean it." You shake your head at yourself, biting down on your bottom lip. Joel sighs, leaning back but still keeping himself between your legs.

"Look," you start up again, bringing your hand down to hold his muscular bicep. "I've wanted to do this with you for so long. I really want it to be with you. Even if it's just one time, that's okay. Just need you in some way—Joel."

Your voice tapers off into a whisper because his stare intimidates you.

He exhales through his nose before running a hand through his hair and fixing his back to stand up straighter.

"Alright." He huffs, his face looking like he just surrendered in war.

"Alright?" You repeat, hopes high.

"I'll do it," He removes himself from between your legs and slides his grip down to your thighs. "But not right now."

Your heart drops.

"Why not?" You whine like a kicked puppy.

He brings one hand up to pinch your cheek. "Cus your daddy's down stairs, m'not a fuckin' monster." He grumbles before letting go and starting to walk out, but you grab him.

"Fine, but can we at least.." You hop down off the counter and pull him back, kissing him abruptly.

It starts slowly at first, you're both scoping out the scene, but then you get eager.

A tongue slips into his mouth and he returns the favor, his hands finding themselfs back on your hips.

In no time, he has your back up against the wall while he devours your mouth like a man starved. And just as his hand starts sliding up your dress and he's about to go back on his word, a voice comes from downstairs.

"C'mon down Joel, we wanna see the new cut!"

You groan as Joel slips from you, walking back downstairs while wiping his jaw and adjusting the boner in his pants. *** Now it was a waiting game.

Everyone but your dad's friends had left the party; they were just sitting around, watching TV and drinking beers.

You and Joel can't stop making eye contact from the opposite ends of the room. It was like torture not being able to fuck him immediately.

You're quick to conjure up a plan, though.

"Hey dad," you start, twirling a loose thread from your dress around your finger.

"Ya?"

"Didn't they reopen Chambers, like, two weeks ago?" You ask, trying to keep your voice as inconspicuous as possible.

Chambers was the local bar that your dad and his buddies loved to go to. You were just trying to plant a seed.

"Mm, yea, I reckon they did." He sighs out, eyes glued to the TV.

"S'been awhile since we've been there." One of his friends chime in.

"We should go grab a few drinks—I've missed picking up broads from there.." Another friend says, to which your dad promptly hits his arm because he doesn't like that kind of talk when you're present.

Nevertheless, he casts you a questioning glance. "You gon' be alright if we go?"

You try so hard to mask your instant glee. "Oh yeah, I'll be fine! Y'all go n' have fun."

"Alright punkin," They all stand, gathering up their wallets and keys—everyone except Joel. "You comin'?" Your dad asks him.

You glare at him to make sure he understands what you're trying to do.

Joel inhales through his nose before sighing out with a smile. "M'gonna call it a night, boys."

Thank god.

They all grunt and groan in protest, but eventually everyone filters out of the house.

You stand in the door jam and watch as your dad and his buddies file into the car, Joel standing on the porch to wave them off. Words are exchanged between everyone, mostly cussing, as they make their depature.

You both watch as they leave the culdesac, even waiting until you couldn't hear the car engine in the distance before looking at Joel.

Your breath catches in your throat when he turns around to look at you, folding his arms over his chest.

"Sly work." He murmurs, walking forward and forcing you to walk back into the house.

You're not sure why you're so nervous all the sudden.

Because you were pretending to be bold and experienced before, you had no choice but to mask your nerves. Now, that Joel knows the truth, you feel...vulnerable. But in the best way possible.

He backs you into the house before closing the door behind him, his head hanging to look at the ground.

"I had to get you alone somehow." You murmur with a shrug of your shoulders.

It was the truth.

You hear Joel chuckle and watch as he brings his head up to look at you. He's assessing you.

A beat of silence washes over you both.

"You said you would, Joel." You try to say sternly, although your voice wavers because you're scared he might've changed his mind.

"I know what I said." He steps closer, your torso's centimeters apart.

The eye contact is heavy—it feels like an avail against you. But you love it—love him. You're holding back from jumping his bones right by the front door.

"Good." You practically whisper, slowly taking his large hand in yours. You wait until he interwines your fingers before turning around and guiding him up the stairs.

Every creak under his and your feet sounds deafening in the silence between you both.

His hand is sweating, but so is yours.

When you make it to your bedroom, you walk inside and sit on the edge of your bed, gazing up at him.

"How many women have you slept with?" You hear yourself blurt before you can stop yourself.

His lips tighten into a line before he sits down next to you. Your sides are touching, his hands are resting on his knees.

"A few." He grunts, turning to face you. "Lot of 'em forgettable. But this," he gestures between the two of you. "ain't no comin' back from this, you hear me?"

You nod, your hand slipping over his knee. You're trying to trail it higher up his thigh, but he stops you with his hand.

"Need to make sure you know that before we do this. Don't want you regrettin' it later-"

"I won't." You say curtly, only because you know with complete certaintly that there was no way you'd ever regret this.

Everything is still for a moment, the only sound in the room is the both of your breathing. He's staring at you so hard, just waiting for even a hint of hesitation.

But it never comes.

In one swift movement, Joel's lips are on yours, pushing you back into the mattress and settling on top of you.

It makes you dizzy how effortlessly he's making out with you now.

He slots himself between your thighs and you moan at the feeling.

It's embarrassing how little he had to do in order to get you off.

But it's Joel, for christsake—he could just stand there and you'd probably find a way to orgasm at least twice.

It feels like he's engulfing you entirely; his musuclar arms wrapped around you, tongue down your throat, chests pressed together—pure bliss.

Suddenly and devastatingly, he breaks away for just a moment. "Sit up." He husks, to which you immediately oblige.

He lifts your dress up and off, momentairly stunned by the sight of your bare breasts.

"Christ, you're unreal." He groans before latching his mouth onto one of your nipples, using his hand to grope the other one.

You're a mess of moans, but you manage to speak in between. "Take your clothes off too," you whine, pawing at his shirt.

Joel grumbles, taking his time. He strips his shirt off and your hands are quick to latch onto his belt, fumbling with the leather strap but eventually yanking it out of the loops.

His hands come out to steady yours. "Slow down, no rush." He purrs in his texan drawl, making you shiver.

You groan out in frustration, letting your back fall down against the bed again. "You gonna make me wait all summer?"

"If you keep bein' a brat, then maybe." Joel huffs, yanking you back by the legs so he can pull your thong off. He dangles the stringy piece of fabric by his finger, looking at it assessingly.

"Joel!" You squeal, embarrassed. He effortessly holds you down with one hand against your stomach, not letting you swat it away from him.

"This what you go 'round wearin'?" He teases, grinning sharply.

You shrug, all squrimy, prodding him with your legs. "Would it turn you on if I said I wore them for you?"

You almost don't notice when Joel stuffs your underwear into his back pocket because of how drawn you are to his eyes. He's looking at you like a man starved—you love it.

"You been plottin' on me, is that it?" His voice makes your wet hole clench around nothing. He's teasing, but you also feel like you've just been caught.

You definitely weren't as suave as you thought you were.

"Stop makin' fun of me. " You huff with a flustered face, narrowing your eyes at him.

Joel smirks, finally prying apart your legs and taking a good, long look at your dripping cunt. "Christ almightly..." He groans at the sight of you, his cock straining hard against his jeans. "Pretty lil thing."

Your back arches off the bed when you feel Joel's thumb brush against your folds, tantilizingly slow. "Nice n' wet, atta girl." He muses, spreading your lips apart with his fingers.

You wanted to make a joke about him inspecting you like some doctor, but the words died quickly on your tongue when you felt him stroke your clit.

"Joel," You moan, hips squirming impatiently. "Fuck, I need you,"

"You got me, babygirl," Joel murmurs before lowering his head and devouring your cunt completely.

His tongue laps at you with fever, primarily focusing on your aching clit. The sensation nearly makes you pass out, especially when he pushes a finger inside of your hole.

"Ohmygodohmygodohmygod," You whine, fisting the sheets so hard that your knuckles turn white.

Having someone eat you out and it being actually enjoyable is one thing, but having Joel Miller eat you out and it being amazing, was blowing your mind.

He didn't even take breathers.

Joel was consuming you like he didn't need air. Soon, you feel another finger stretch you open, then another, until Joel has three fingers smoothly pumping in and out of you.

It quickly becomes all too much for your little brain. "Hmph..fuck Joel m'gonna come," You whine, your hips staggering against his mouth.

He doesn't answer you, in fact, Joel just wraps his musclar arms tightly under your thighs, securing you in place. In this position, you were rendered completely immoveable.

He kept you right where he wanted you.

"Waitwait, shit, Joel," His tongue is relentless, drinking you up like he was dying of thirst in the desert. Tears are forming in the lining of your eyes, the stimulation overloading you.

"Fuck!" You cry, coming completely undone beneath him. Your entire body shakes with pleasure as you finish, thighs squeezing the sides of his head.

Joel laps you all the way through it, humming contentedly against your soaked cunt.

When your body goes limp against the bed, thats finally when Joel lifts his lips off you. His entire face down past his nose is drenched in your juices; the sight makes your stomach flutter.

"Holy fucking shit Joel," You whimper, out of breath, chest heaving up and down. "That was amazing."

Joel lands a couple soft warning pats against your cunt, making you flinch and squirm from overstimulation.

"You cuss like a sailor, y'know that?"

"S'hard not to when you're makin' me feel so good." You're mumbling, wiping at the tear streaks on your face with the back of your hand.

"Mm, I know," He hums in that caring tone, crawling on top of you and placing a few chaste kisses on your lips.

It doesn't take long for your libido to rise again, wrapping your arms around his shoulders and eagerly kissing him back.

You bring a hand down to palm at his boner, giggling into the kiss. He groans at the feeling, rutting his hips into your hand. "Fuck me now please," You say breathlessly into his ear, nipping and licking at his neck.

He scoffs at your enthusiasm.

Finally, Joel pulls his pants off, letting his cock spring free and slap against his stomach.

You're enamoured by the sight of it. Long in length, even bigger in girth. You practically start drooling.

"You got a starin' problem too." Joel grumbles, grabbing you by the jaw and tilting your head up so he can kiss you again.

You chuckle into his lips, breaking away for a moment to speak. "I can't help it. It's handsome..you're handsome." You muse, getting a fist around his cock, managing to stroke it a few times before Joel stops you.

You don't have time to think or argue before he turns you over onto your side, situating himself behind you.

He's spooning you, except his left arm is hooked around your chest and his right has your leg lifted up, allowing his cock to slip between your folds.

Once again, he's got you right where he wants you.

"Joel," You bring your hands up to hold onto his forearm, pushing your ass back into him. "Put it in." You all but demand, trying to desperately grind your cunt on him.

He tightens his grasp on your collarbone, pulling you tighter against his chest. "Keep your leg up baby," Joel mutters lowly in your ear, letting go of your leg to guide his cock to your entrance.

His fat tip prods against your willing hole, making you dizzy with need. He runs his fingers along your folds one last time, gathering up your slick and using it to lubricate his cock.

Your heart is beating a million miles per hour. The moment you had been dreaming of for so long was finally here.

Joel, taking your virginity—your prayers were answered.

Slowly, Joel starts inching his way inside, the stretch making you gasp.

It feels fine at first, just a dull ache, but then it hurts—bad.

You squeeze your eyes shut and grit your teeth, trying to push through the pain. However, your body clenches down on the intrusive appendage, causing Joel to groan out.

It feels good for him, but he's been around the block a few times to know what's happening.

"You okay? I need'a stop?" He asks in that raspy voice of his, to which you immediately shake your head.

"Nonono, god no, don't stop. Just—just ram it in." You say foolishly, making Joel scoff.

"No, sweetheart, as much as I want to—bad idea." He brings his hand back down between your legs, rubbing a few slow circles into your clit. "Just relax and open up for me, thaaaats it," He encourages in that tone that lights fires in your core.

The perfect stimulation on the bundle of nerves made you forget all about the pain, letting your hole ease up a bit.

He takes the oppurtunity to keep breaching you deeper, peppering kisses to your neck and back in the process. His fingers stay glued to your clit, and before you know it, he's half way inside.

Your holding onto him so hard that your nails are leaving imprints on his forearm.

But you're so full of him and it's perfect. You can feel every twitch, every notch, every vein; or maybe you're just convincing yourself you can. Either way, mewls and moans are slipping from your lips and feeding Joel's growing ego.

"You feelin' good sweetheart?" He rasps in your ear, thrusting back and forth till he reaches that half way mark. You nod frantically, craning your neck to face him, desperate for a kiss.

He satisfies your wishes, kissing you slowly and passionately, like everything you've ever wanted.

His dick in you, his tongue down your throat, his arms pinning you to him. Fuck.

But you still want more.

In a shocking move, you slam your hips back against him, burying him all the way inside.

Moans fill your little bedroom, both his and yours, and for a moment, a flash of regret hits you like a truck.

He's big, and it fucking hurts.

But once the initial pain subsides, it’s like ecstasy.

"Fuck—girl, what'd ya do that for?" Joel hisses, tensing up because he's trying not to come fast.

"Couldn't wait," you pant, tears spilling out the corners of your eyes. "Please move." You're pleading because being stationary is somehow even more painful. You squirm in Joel's strong grasp, trying to stop the ache between your legs.

He's no match for you.

In a gentle but swift motion, Joel situates himself on top of you, closing your thighs together and putting them on one side of his body—all while still inside of you.

He cages you in with his big strong arms, looking down at your needy expression as he gradually starts rocking his hips into you. You're twisting your torso to remain looking at him, clawing at his biceps with your nails.

"This how you like it?" He huffs out, the sweat evident on his brow. "Deep n' slow?"

You want to respond to him, but it's hard to because every other sound you make is a moan.

He's so deep and never fails to hit the one spot that just makes you melt.

Opting for a non-verbal response, you nod with fever, gyrating your hips to meet his thrusts.

He chuckles, the sound alone makes you wanna come.

His name slips from your lips like a prayer—Joel finds it so cute because when he hits deep, your voice raises in pitch.

But he's no better, he'd been groaning in your ear since the start of it. He really cant help it, your cunt is like a silky, wet vice molded perfectly for his cock.

Joel lifts one of your legs up to his chest, securing his muscular arm around your thigh to keep it there. He continues he's deep thrusts, only this time picking up rhythm. He also brings his other hand down to lazily rub circles in your clit.

Christ.

Your head lolls back and your eyes roll into the back of your head. The stimulation was insanely perfect and all too much at the same time.

Your body wracks with jolts and spasms—your body trying to cope with everything it's feeling. Joel takes notice, a proud and lopsided smile spreading across his face.

"M'gonna cum," You whine, your body writhing against him with each thrust.

Your pussy is clenching down on him with each piston of his hips, Joel is not far behind you.

He rubs your clit in a way that makes you come undone, your back arching up off the bed and your toes curling from pleasure.

At the same time, Joel picks up his pace, only to pull his cock from inside you and pump it a few times before unloading his seed onto your naked torso.

For a moment, the only sound in the room is the heavy breathing coming from the both of you. Joel's staring down at your pussy, entraced with the way your hole is constricting around nothing.

Then, he looks at your face. Your eyes are closed, your lips are parted, your chest is heaving up and down. He's admiring you and all your fucked-out glory.

He brings a hand up to your face, wiping off the tear stains with his thumb. "You alright?" He husks out, looking down at you assessingly.

"M'perfect." You coo, slowly opening your eyes and leaning up to kiss him. Joel returns it, loving the way your mouth opens so readily for him.

He'd have to try it out with his dick next time.

"Can we go again?" You murmur into his mouth, your arms wrapping around his shoulders.

Joel scoffs because he thinks you're kidding. You're not. When he realizes this, he shakes his head in disbelief, pushing you down onto the bed by your shoulders.

"Don't worry, we got all summer."

[stvolanis]

brothers best friend! Rafe who stroked his cock to the thought of the way you looked in your little bikini when he was at your house for your brother, spurting heavy ropes of cum when he remembered the way your boobs almost kept slipping out of your flimsy top, and the blush that coated your cheeks when you adjusted it—wondering if anyone saw, but of course, rafe did.

brothers best friend! Rafe who was supposed to be staying the night for your older brother, but somehow ended up finding himself in front of your cracked door, watching the way you rode your stuffed animal. He couldn’t seem to control himself as his hand slid into his boxers, whining, wishing it was him. His hand was pressed to his mouth as you played with your sensitive buds, afraid he’d moan too at the sight in front of him.

brothers best friend! Rafe who made sure to sit next to you at the dinner table. Laughing at your brothers sports jokes as he trailed a hand up your thigh. Your breath hitched as you felt him rub you through your panties, and suddenly you were happy you wore a skirt. Rafes cock was unbelievably hard, and he wanted nothing more than to fuck you silly as he watched you lick some sauce off that had accidentally gotten on your finger.

brothers best friend! Rafe who tightly held his hand over your mouth after you’d gotten a little too loud from the way he pounded into your pussy mercilessly. His cock stretched you open, and the sound of skin slapping against skin echoed throughout your girly room. Tears brimmed your eyes, but all you could do was clutch the sheets beneath you as his tip hit your cervix repeatedly.

brothers best friend! Rafe who had made you cum at least 3 times on his cock, the wetness on your bedsheets below you proof of his work. You were so fucked out, unable to form a coherent sentence—only able to moan Rafes name repeatedly. “Good girl, princess. Know it’s a lot, but you can give me another one, yeah?” He whispered softly in your ear as he lazily fucked into you still. Your pussy was beyond sensitive, and your nearly screamed as his hand came down to play with your clit—but you didn’t want to disappoint him. “Y-Yes, oh my god, Rafe!” You whimpered out. Rafe hummed in approval as your legs shook from overstimulation, but he didn’t let up. “Fuckin’ perfect.” He muttered.

TAG LIST: @epthedream69 @claire-elvisgirl @elvisrealgf @littlehoneyposts @luxuriouslokistan-3 @jazminsjaz @www-interludeshadow-com @khxna @my-fabulousness-has-arrived @floredaqueen @lemonadygirl @newavenger @bloobewy @vogueprincess @scintilla-morningstar @liv-n @armandosbabymama @axailslink @cosmixstar

[water-in-the-wind]

Ooooh fun fun fun fun fun! Send me a prompt and a marauders ship (slash or platonic) and I’ll put in a 100 word drabble.

Drabble List #2

New drabble prompt list! Feel free to reblog!

“That’s how the story goes.”

“None of this is your fault.”

“I know it hurts.”

“Are you serious?”

“You’re safe now.”

“No one’s going to hurt you.”

“I don’t understand.”

“This isn’t what I wanted.”

“My head hurts.”

“I’m right here, okay?”

“Wow, you look… amazing.”

“Are you okay?”

“Who did this?”

“I made a mistake.”

“When I’m with you, I’m home.”

“There’s nothing I can do anymore.”

“This is going to hurt.”

“That was kind of hot.”

“Please don’t let me be alone.”

“Don’t try to fix me. I’m not broken.”

“It’s never too late to get back up again.”

“What if one day I wake up and you don’t?”

“I immediately regret this decision.”

“I’m not okay.”

“I’m scared.”

“You’re the one thing keeping me sane right now.”

“Please stay with me.”

“Please help me.”

“It’s okay to cry.”

“Is that blood?”

“Can I kiss you?”

“You’re everything to me.”

“I’d like to see you try.”

“Are you testing me?”

“I just wanted to let you know that I think you’re beautiful.”

“I’m lost without you.”

“You have my word.”

“I’m just tired.”

“It just… hurts.”

“Do you promise?”

“I’m not drunk enough for this.”

“Why are you shaking?”

“I never meant to hurt you.”

“Is that my shirt?”

“Please don’t shut me out.”

“Go back to sleep.”

“I can take care of myself just fine.”

“This is new.”

“Take off your shirt.”

“Be you. No one else can.”

“I can’t breathe.”

“Are you going to talk to me?”

“I’m sorry.”

“They’re gone.”

“Just smile. I really need you to smile right now.”

“Would you just hold still?”

“I miss the way things used to be.”

“Am I dead?”

“Look at me.”

“Can we just pretend like we’re normal for once?”

“I told you not to fall in love with me.”

“Please shut up. Just shut up.”

“Please tell me it’s going to be okay.”

“Yell, scream, cry, please, just say something, anything.”

“When you smile, I fall apart.”

“If I die, I’m never speaking to you again.”

“If you don’t want to talk about it then say so. Don’t lie and pretend to be fine when you clearly aren’t.”

“This isn’t what it looks like.”

“I just really miss talking to you.”

“I can’t do this on my own.”

“I’ve got you.”

“We’ll figure this out.”

“Please don’t say goodbye.”

“You’ve shown me what love can feel like.”

“You make me feel alive.”

“I wouldn’t change a thing about you.”

“There is nothing wrong with you.”

“I’m just looking out for you.”

“Be careful.”

“You owe me.”

“Come with me.”

“I trust you.”

“I didn’t want you to see this.”

“I’ve been praying for you.”

“Take my jacket. It’s cold outside.”

“I’ll walk you home.”

“Let me help.”

“Come here.”

“You’re holding back.”

“Remember when we were little?”

“We’re all a little stronger than we think we are.”

“Don’t sell yourself short.”

“This isn’t who I am.”

“I’m willing to wait for it.”

“Are you ready for this?”

“You can do this.”

“Your life was my life’s best part.”

“You were always gold to me.”

“Don’t look at me like that.”

“I’m fine with where I am now.”

“We all want to be somebody.”

“Promise me you’ll come back.”

“I don’t know anyone else who can make me feel this way.”

“I’ve never felt stronger than when you’re with me.”

“I believe in you.”

[inkedinshadows]

hi! can I get 34 + 21 with Cassian please? thanks!

Hunting For You

Pairing: Cassian x f!reader

Prompts: "Is that blood?" + "Baby, please, just look at me."

Warnings: angst, injury & blood

Word count: 867

When you didn’t come home at the time you’d said you would, Cassian didn’t think much of it. You would often run late when you were out shopping, lingering too long in front of a shop window or taking a long time to choose which top you wanted to buy—only to buy them both in the end.

But when dinner came and you still hadn’t returned, he started to worry. You hadn’t warned him that you would be this late. He tried to pull on the bond, but you didn’t answer.

Pacing in front of the door, he told himself he’d give you ten more minutes. In the meantime, he would keep trying to reach you through the bond, and if you still hadn’t arrived when the time was up, then he would come looking for you.

His eyes stared at the clock on the wall as if he could make time move faster. His shoulders were tense, his wings twitched, and not even a minute had passed when he yanked the door open and took to the skies.

You had mentioned the Palace of Thread and Jewels, so that was where he started. He searched the whole place, but most shops were already closed and there weren’t many people around at this hour. The few he talked to said they hadn’t seen you.

He searched the area close to the Palace, flying above the houses to have a wider view of the streets, yet low enough to recognize you or to catch a trace of your scent on the wind.

His mind had gone into full warrior mode. He wouldn’t let panic rise and fear cloud his thoughts. You still weren’t answering his constant tugs on the bond, but for all he knew, Mor and Feyre might have joined you while you were shopping, and then you had gone back to the townhouse with them, lost track of time while sipping wine, and were now fast asleep on the couch. You had never handled alcohol well.

He hoped that was what had really happened. He prayed to the Mother that it was just that.

Powerful beats of his wings carried him over streets and squares as he flew in wider circles over the city. Just as he considered checking the townhouse or Mor’s apartment and asking for his family’s help in case you weren’t there, a familiar scent reached his nose.

It was faint and mixed with a slightly metallic smell, but it was undoubtedly yours.

Cassian followed it to a dimly lit alley, where a figure leaned against the wall, struggling to walk or even stand upright.

He landed with a thud, wings folding behind him. “Y/N?” he called tentatively.

At the sound of his voice, you lifted your head. A choked sound came from you, and then you were stumbling forward. Cassian caught you before you could fall, holding you up when your legs seemed to fail you.

“Sweetheart, what…”

His voice faded as he pushed the hair out of your face and his thumb brushed over your sticky temple. The metallic scent filled his nostrils, but now he recognized it for what it really was.

“Is that blood?” he asked, gently turning your head to get a better look. Even in the dim light, there was no mistaking the cut near your hairline and the red trail down the side of your face.

Fury boiled inside him, his eyes already scanning the alley for any sign of threat. He found none.

You mumbled something incomprehensible, and his gaze snapped back to you. Your eyes were closed, your head dangling to the side as if you didn’t have the strength to hold it up.

This was his fault. If he had looked for you earlier, if he had come with you instead of letting you go alone, none of this would have happened.

“Sweetheart,” he called, gently cupping your face. “Baby, please, just look at me.”

Your eyes fluttered behind your eyelids, but they didn’t open. “Cass…” you whispered, your voice weak and barely audible.

Cassian swore, and you only groaned as he quickly gathered you in his arms and cradled you to his chest. Making sure your head rested on his shoulder, he unfolded his wings and took off once more, heading for Madja’s clinic.

“Baby,” he tried again as he flew as fast as he could. He had to keep you conscious, to make sure you didn’t pass out. “Talk to me, please. Can you tell me what happened?”

Your mouth barely moved as you spoke, your answer nothing more than a low rumble, but at least you were talking. Cassian could make out only a few words—bag, stole, money, males—and it was all he needed to piece together what had happened.

He brushed a kiss to the top of your head, his arms tightening around you as he landed in front of Madja’s door.

“It’s alright, sweetheart,” he promised, knocking a bit too forcefully on the wooden surface. “You’re safe now.”

He would first make sure you were okay, and then he would go out to find whoever had hurt you and make sure they paid for it.

Taglist: @mrsjna @navyblue-eternity @paintedbyshadows @highladyandromeda @starswholistenanddreamsanswered @azrielsmate3 @mollygetssherlockcoffee @mirandasidefics @tinystarfishgalaxy @cynthiesjmxazrielslover @anarchiii @readinggeeklmao @anneas11 @azrielslittleslut @lilah-asteria @lorosette @azrielsrealmate @pey2618 @mellowmusings @k8r123-blog @daughterofthemoons-stuff @minnieoo @saltedcoffeescotch @georgiadixon @quiet-because-it-is-a-secret

1k taglist: @onebadassunicorn @thegoddessofnothingness

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Taking Root 1

Warnings: non/dubcon, stalking, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Characters: Bucky Barnes

This AU is called Watcher Anonymous and will include different series for different characters. This is our introduction to Bucky and Leaf.

Summary: a neighbourly connection might be more than chance.

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging ❤️

Bucky cracks his neck as he approaches the large windows. He rubs his eyes as he snarls at the sunlight peering back at him. Steve always leaves the curtains open. Always gone before Bucky drags himself out of bed.

He tugs them shut but stays close. It's not noon yet. She'll be out shortly.

He's not much for television. He tried a few TV series, some movies recommended on that chat, but he just can't keep his mind from running. It's why he wakes up late. Most nights, he doesn't even sleep. This is what keeps him enthralled. There's not much plot, but the main character is fascinating.

He swigs from his mug as the city street chugs from down the alleyway between their apartments. Her balcony is slightly lower. The perfect vantage.

Pathetic. That's what he'd call himself if he wasn't him. All those guys on that discord Steve found are that very flavour. But he's not them. They're all weirdo virgins. He's had plenty of women. More than enough. She's just different. Like him.

As if beckoned by his awakening, she appears. Her railing is curtained with ivy, enough that she doesn't think of modesty. He doesn't mind. She comes out wearing a loose sweater that reads SWEET in large caps and a pair of her frilly panties. He likes those ones, they ride up when she bends over to pick up the watering can.

She goes about her usual routine. She checks the leaves, waters the soil, untangles the overgrown stems, and treats the plants with rot or infestations. The cluster of plants takes up most of the space. She's like a little chipmunk among them.

She finishes and takes the can inside. The sliding door gives a generous view of her place. Inside, she lingers at the window ledge and checks the row of cactuses. He admires her devotion to those plants. She'll haven't the big square planters soon. A few of the tomatoes growing up the posts look close to ripe.

He rubs the cleft of his chin and his stubble makes a bristly noise. He backs away at the unnerving idea. It's too much. Too soon.

Fuck that. He's not that weirdo Jensen. He's been tailing his married boss for three years. Now that's fucking desperate. Besides, they all made a pact, as lame as it was. They're going to make their moves. Either do something or get over it.

Right. Finish the coffee and get your ass together, Barnes. He rinses the mug then goes to make himself human again. Show, brush the teeth, untangle your hair, tie it back, no one will know the different, clothes. Alright. It won't be so bad to get out and it'll get Steve off his back about Vitamin D. Funny, the sunlight only makes him feel worse.

He heads off with a cap pulled down low and his hands in his pockets. There's a shop down the way, they have tables outside full of seeds and little pots. And a coffee shop right next door. He could use a second cup. Maybe a third.

He stops by the display of plants on the corner. There's a big red sign marked 'End of Season Clearance.' Better late than never.

The old woman who runs the shop offers him a shallow box to put his purchases in. Some pansies and violets. He doesn't know. The colours are nice, he guesses. She tells him to get a nice long bed for them and he should be able to have a nice bunch before the frost.

He gets his coffee, agitated as he balances his starters in one arm, then heads home. He gets back to the apartment and leaves the box on the table. He doesn't touch them as he paces around. He goes to the window. She reading in her chair, reclined, one leg bent, sweater rumpling to expose a bit of tummy. He narrows his eyes. He reaches for the binoculars nearby. Oh yeah. He shouldn't be so into it but he can see a little bit of hair sticking out the edge of her panties. It makes him chafe in his jeans.

He backs up as his stomach growls. Fine. He eats grilled cheese and canned tomato soup. He's still groggy. He goes to the window again. He stays there until she's gone. The censor will let him know if she comes back out.

Steve gets home. He's in a rush. His bag clatters off the bench as soon as he lets go of it. He huffs and picks it up, scurrying around. Bucky doesn't ask. He's on his way to that volunteer gig. They both know why he's in such a hurry.

"Have fun," Bucky calls out from the sofa.

"Oh, flowers?" Steve pauses as his soles scuff.

"What's it to ya, punk?"

"Nothing. You know I got allergies, right?" He sneezes as if to make the point.

"Sure I do. They're going on the balcony... tomorrow."

"Tomorrow?" Steve asks. "Why not-- achooo!"

"Cool off," Bucky warns. "I'll cover them up."

"Ugh, I don't got time," Steve mutters. "See ya. Oh, and you probably don't want the cat chewing on those n-n-neith-- achoo!"

"She's off terrorising the mice," Bucky snorts. "Get out of here, Rogers."

The night rolls by slowly. Hours spent with his eyes open. On the couch until his roommate gets back. Then his bed. Back to the living room. Steve gets up to get ready for work at the museum. Bucky puts Alpine on his chest and scratches her chin. Her box needs changing.

The sunlight softens between the curtains as he's left alone. He lets the cat out with him as he angles the box of flowers through the door. He got the big trays too and soil. He'll replant it like she did hers. Or try to. Steve keeps saying the place needs a bit of home to it. Goddamn it, Steve, shut up.

He puts the flowers on the iron table and sighs. He doesn't know where to start. The squeak of a hinge makes him tense. It's hers. He knows it without looking. She yawns and he trembles, fighting not to look down at her. He can hear her sipping from her porcelain mug. Is it the one with the lillies or the roses?

"Are those Blueberry Swirl Pansies? Those are so pretty."

He doesn't move at first. She's talking to him. He knows it. His chest feels like it's full. He pushes away from the rail and checks the little tag then faces her. He gives a small wave.

"That's what it says, yeah."

He leans against the railing and looks up at him, "I love flowers, if you can't tell." She giggles and it's music in his ears. The kind that sticks in his brain and he'll keep hearing over and over.

"No, I can't," he chuckles. "Wouldn't mind a few pointers. Kinda new at this."

"Well, I'd start by keeping the cat out of them," she points and he turns to find Alpine digging in a pot.

"Right," he mutters. "Thanks."

[vacantfields]

After brushing your teeth and ensuring your face was decently cleaned for sleep, you made your way out of the small bathroom and shut off the lights.

You stopped in the doorway to the bedroom and couldn't help but let a small smile fall onto your lips as you watched Moon, and maybe even Sun, look out of the window at the stars. You knew you didn't have to make a noise or anything to announce you were here as you watched Moon's silhouette tilt its head. He knew you were there. He always knew when you were close.

Stepping further into the room, you felt for your bed, and once you got to it, you sat on the soft edge and turned your head to Moon, who was now looking at you. You grinned playfully. "I bet she's jealous," you said while removing the covers and lying on the bed. You could hear Moon's faceplate do a slight click, which meant he was tilting his head to the side. A raspy yet quiet voice responded, "Who?"

"The moon. I bet she's jealous of your sweet smile and soft edges." You said, as a matter of fact. You heard the bells and his soft, husky chuckle. "Silly star. Silly little star. Flattering." You couldn't help but let a giggle out as well. "It's true! You're a way better Moon than she would ever dream to be!" You said with your arms stretched up in the dark.

"Silly star. Our silly star. Sun says it is time for sleep. Sleep for little pretty stars." He sounded closer to you now. You don't know how he manages to be quiet, and you don't get to wonder any further as a finger boops the tip of your nose. "Nighty night. Sleepy time." You smiled in the dark knowing that those red eyes were always watching you with care and love.

"Only if you get in here with me." You said teasingly which made Moon chuckle again. "Anything for our star. Anything."

You love being their silly star. Their star no one else's.

Hopefully, tomorrow, you will get to tease Sun.

[cod-dump]

When they met, Soap didn't notice it at first. But after a few weeks he realized: Graves fucking understands his accent and Scottish slang better than anyone he's worked with that isn't a Scot themselves. Ghost is mocking him and yet Graves is replying with full understanding, no confusion.

Then Soap comes to find out his bloody cousin, the man who inspired him to join the military, has been a fucking Shadow this entire time. Not only that but works close with Graves.

There's only so many surprises Soap can handle, this one? Yeah, this one takes the cake.

[meinii]

“I missed you”

summary: work has been keeping you way too busy lately, so Sylus helps you catch a break

content: pure fluff♥︎

୨୧･｡｡･♡･∴･♡･｡｡･୨୧

the moment you stepped through the front door, the familiar scent hit you—a warm, rich blend of spices and something subtly sweet. it was unmistakable, carrying the deep comfort of home and something more.

your shoulders sagged as you exhaled, releasing the weight of exhaustion that had clung to you for days. work had been relentless, keeping you away longer than you’d wanted. you barely had time to eat, let alone rest, and the absence of Sylus had been a quiet ache beneath it all

but now, as you took in your surroundings, that ache eased.

the house was spotless. not a single speck of dust remained on the surfaces, and everything was neatly arranged, from the pillows on the couch to the books stacked perfectly on the shelves. a fresh bouquet of your favorite flowers sat on the dining table, their petals open and vibrant, filling the space with a delicate fragrance

and in the kitchen—

there he was.

Sylus stood at the stove, dressed in a black button-up, sleeves casually rolled to his elbows. his silver hair was slightly tousled, as if he’d been running his fingers through it, and his sharp crimson eyes flicked toward you the moment you stepped in

for a second, he just looked at you, taking you in. then, a slow, knowing smirk curved his lips

“took you long enough.”

warmth flooded through you, and you barely managed to slip off your shoes before making your way over to him. “Sylus…”

before you could say more, his arms were already around you, pulling you against his chest. the scent of him—faint smoke, something dark and rich—mixed with the warmth of his skin, and you melted into his embrace

“you’ve been busy,” he murmured against your hair, his voice lower now, softer “too busy.”

you sighed, fingers curling into his shirt “I know. I missed you.”

he huffed lightly, pulling back just enough to look at you “I had to remind myself you weren’t avoiding me on purpose”

a small laugh escaped you “and if I was?”

his smirk widened, his thumb brushing against your cheek “then I would’ve come and dragged you home myself”

your heart swelled at the possessiveness in his tone, but before you could say anything, the scent of food caught your attention again. you glanced past him at the dining table, already set with two plates of what you recognized as your favorite meal

“you cooked?” you asked, surprised

he scoffed, turning back to the stove to grab the last dish “what, you think I was going to let you come home and survive off instant meals?”

you grinned, leaning against the counter as you watched him “I didn’t know you were so domestic”

he glanced at you, amused “I wouldn’t say that. I just have high standards”

with that, he set the final dish down and pulled out a chair for you. you sat without hesitation, touched by the effort he’d put into making everything perfect.

as you both started eating, conversation flowed naturally, the exhaustion in your body slowly fading with each bite. he poured you a glass of wine, and you leaned back, savoring the warmth of it as you watched him across the table

“you’re staring” he pointed out

you smirked “I missed looking at you”

Sylus arched a brow, taking a slow sip of his own drink “flirting with me now?”

“maybe”

his lips twitched into a grin, but he didn’t tease further. Instead, he reached across the table, his fingers brushing against yours. you intertwined them easily, enjoying the quiet moment.

after dinner, the two of you moved to the couch, finishing your wine in comfortable silence. you leaned against him, tracing idle patterns on his hand as he held you close

“let’s change,” he murmured after a while “you need to relax properly”

you groaned but allowed him to pull you up. he handed you one of his shirts to wear, and when you returned from the bedroom, he had already changed into loose sweatpants, his usual sharp attire abandoned for something softer.

seeing him like this—comfortable, effortless—made something warm settle in your chest

“I’m doing your skincare” you announced

Sylus gave you a deadpan look “no.”

“yes.”

“no.”

you raised a brow

“you went through all this trouble for me. let me take care of you for once”

he stared at you for a long moment, then exhaled in defeat “fine.”

grinning, you guided him to sit in front of you while you grabbed your products.

you started gently, massaging the cleanser onto his skin, his usually sharp features momentarily softened beneath your touch

“this is ridiculous” he muttered, but he didn’t stop you

“shut up,” you said affectionately, patting his face with toner “you’ll thank me later”

he let out an exaggerated sigh but allowed you to finish.

by the time you applied the last product, his expression was unreadable, but his eyes lingered on you, studying you closely

before you could ask what he was thinking, he reached behind you, gathering your hair and tying it back with an ease that surprised you.

your breath hitched slightly “when did you learn to do that?”

he shrugged “watched you do it enough times”

something in your chest clenched at that.

he noticed the little things, always had.

once you were both settled into bed, you curled against him, feeling his warmth seep into you as he pulled you closer. his fingers traced idle patterns along your arm, his breath steady against your hair

“you should sleep” he murmured

you hummed, already halfway there “stay here when I wake up?”

a soft chuckle rumbled in his chest “I’m not going anywhere”

a pause

then, quieter, “I missed you, too.”

smiling against his skin, you let sleep take you, safe in the arms of the man who had made coming home feel like something worth looking forward to.

[champagnehenssey]

“I'ma kill the pussy, I think we need a paramedic.”

⋆˚࿔ Black!F!Reader x Ur Fav!

📢: nsfw!, dom!behavior, pussy referred to as ‘she’; stretch marks, not proofread :3, very short

★ men who bend you on the nearest surface. counter top, table, couch,—whatever’s near and wherever he can fuck you from the back as long as he gets his billion dollar view. If that’s not available he’ll use the nearest wall pressing you against it his body all against yours so you can feel his growing erection in his pants begging for you.

★yes his billion dollar view. with your back arched, ass up, and face down(sweaty, and against the pillow almost smudged, pathetic sounds coming outta you like a pornstar). it was fucking glorious the way your body was beneath him. He liked it when you were sooo feeble under him like this. Your soft warm skin glistening with sweat, the curves on your body, the accentuations, the carvings. Yes carving, like a—uh, Greek statue y’know the one depicted of Aphrodite? She ain’t had shit on you in his opinion he adored it all. Especially your stretch marks! The ones that began on your lower back stretching to your hips, thighs, and ass? Sunlight on water. Perfection supposedly didn’t exist as humans were flawed but too him? You where the standard. Perfect.

★ his hand slide down to the middle of your back before pressing on it “Deeper baby.” His voice muttered into your ear and you obeyed your back deepening further “There we go.” He cooed pulling a stray curl from your face so he could see your eyes his smirk deepening from what he saw in them. “That’s my girl, doin’ so good for me.”

★men who place love bites on your shoulders licking them clean light bruises in there wake right after, kisses on them and in between the shoulder blades(the lil moans you released were so precious—), and his fingers ever so gently trailing down your spine all because of the way your breathing slows, and hitches and maybe even a hiccup.

★men who really, really want to tug, pull and wrap your hair around his fists but decided on not to because it hurt for you and not in a good way. So he decided on using your neck wrapping his big, rough hand ‘round there. It made it all the better feeling your plus beat rapidly against his fingers. But make no mistake! That protective hairstyle? Oh you’re so done. “Nah, nah lemme pull it c’mon I’ll be gentle I swear.” He’s not gentle not even a little bit with your passion twists wrapped around his hand messily tilting your head back all meanly like a bully, a bully who likes to fuck you. Your throat bare and he places open mouthed kisses on the skin sucking a bit, even on the pulse.

★men who fuck you like you insulted his mom in the worst way. men who fuck you like he absolutely hates your existence and the fact that your still alive breathing. men who fuck you like your just some dumb rag doll to put his cock in. Rough. Raw. Passionate. Straight up pounding your shit with no mercy it’s almost like he wants you dead. But there’s a duality—almost whiplash with the way he whispers in your ear “want me to—shit—stop, pretty?” or “m’goin too hard? aw, shh don’t cry on me now.” pressing soft almost feather light kisses on your jaw or on the back of your neck, his voice all hoarse, raw and low and you’re the only person who gets to hear him like this all intimate because this is solely reserved for his girl.

★men who slap your ass and he doesn’t care if it’s big or small he slapping it either way just to see a deep red mark depicting his handprint. (If you look back you’ll see the pure delight in his eyes, a big grin on his face at the recoil) Because your his. Branding he guesses? and he rubs it’s after soothing the pain all caringly like he’s genuinely sorry but his mouth is so dirty when he says “you’re not gonna walk for the next week so, call out for everyday okay? I’ll take care of you yeah?” He tilts his head to the side lazily seemly in thought before saying “I’ll massage your legs, your thighs, back as well for ya..probably your whole body..you want that right?” Mind you he’s saying this while he’s still fucking you his pace slowed down though to give you air time talking like he’s listing a grocery list or something. And when you don’t answer quick enough he gives your ass a quick smack making you cry out “Y-yeah!” He smirks rubbing your ass again all soothingly “Yeah? Glad you agree..don’t like how they’ve been working my girl so hard these days.” He says and his ears pick up on your shaky breathing and he doesn’t know why you’re doing that. He’s still got one more round left in him maybe two..he’s feeling a bit needy today. But he’s not the only one clearly with the way she’s squeezing him dry all tight and warm tryna choke him out acting like she wanted a baby. Poor pussy, all clingy n shit it’s okay tho! He’ll fuck you till she tapped out.

[multi-fandom-imagine]

could I request one where reader tells Fred that she's pregnant and he gets a bit overprotective of her?

A/n: DAD!FRED

You’d been trying to find the right moment to tell Fred all day, but as usual, the Weasley twins had been busy causing mayhem in the shop. Every time you thought you had a second alone with him, someone would burst in needing something.

Finally, after the last customer left and George conveniently decided to “check inventory” in the back (which you highly suspected was his way of giving you privacy), you took a deep breath and turned to Fred.

“Fred,” you started, trying to steady your nerves.

He grinned, draping an arm around you. “Yes, love? What can I do for you? Want me to prank Percy again? Because I’d be delighted.”

You laughed but shook your head. “No, it’s… something else.”

Something about your tone made him sober up instantly. His playful smirk faded into concern, his eyes scanning your face. “You alright?”

You reached for his hand, squeezing it. “Yeah, I’m fine. Actually… I’m better than fine.” You took a deep breath and finally said the words. “I’m pregnant.”

For a moment, Fred just stared at you. His mouth opened, then closed, then opened again. It was like watching a broken puppet try to function.

“You’re… what?” he asked, voice higher than usual, your once confidant husband looked like he was hit with a Bludger. The man who survived the Battle of Hogwarts looked like he was two seconds away from keeling over.

You laughed softly, nodding. “Pregnant, Freddie.”

A slow, disbelieving grin spread across his face, but then—just as quickly—it shifted into something else. His hands suddenly hovered near you like he wasn’t sure if he should touch you.

“Merlin’s beard—okay, okay, sit down. You should be sitting.”

“Fred—”

“No, no, no, I mean it,” he said, ushering you toward the nearest chair. “You should be resting. Are you tired? You must be tired. You’re making a baby, that’s got to be exhausting....I... oh god." Fred gripped his hair now realizing how tired he must have made you.

You rolled your eyes as he kneeled in front of you, looking you over like you might break at any second.

“Fred, I’m fine.”

“Well, you won’t be if you keep standing around like that!” he insisted. “We need to get you something to eat. You’re eating properly, right? Oh, I need to tell Mum. She’ll know what to do. And Healer appointments—do we need to make one? When do we make one? You need to sit! Why are you standing! You shouldn't be standing."

You burst out laughing. “Fred, breathe!”

He sucked in a deep breath, exhaling slowly, but his eyes were still filled with excitement and overwhelming concern. “Okay. Right. I’m breathing. I’m calm.” He took another breath and then suddenly turned toward the back of the shop.

“OI GEORGE! SHE’S PREGNANT!”

You groaned, covering your face as George came running in, eyes wide. “Blimey, really?” He grinned at you before turning to Fred. “And you didn’t pass out? Proud of you, mate.”

Fred glared at his twin before turning back to you. “I swear, love, I’m going to take the best care of you. No heavy lifting, no stress, no....no nothing..but pure relaxation."

You sighed, already knowing that Fred was about to become the most overprotective man in existence. But as he kissed your forehead and pressed a hand gently against your stomach, his wide-eyed awe and love made your heart melt. A nervous smile on his lips as his he held you close, the man now guiding you to the back of the store to sit down.

Overprotective? Yes. But the love of your life was also about to be the best dad in the world.

[jjmbbg]

"Push, push, push"

cw: soldier boy x fem!reader, unprotected sex p in v (no hat, no party), slight degradation, hair pulling, spanking, orgasm denial lol sorry.

(pics from pinterest)

The room felt heavy, the thick, hot air increasing the sweat on your body, the salty drops sliding between your breasts as he held your jaw tightly, tongue sticking out your puffy lips after all the rough kisses and bites Ben gave you. He tugged your lower lip with his thumb, opening even more your mouth eagerly and sliding his thumb there. You whimpered and started to suck on his thumb, shutting your eyes close as you tasted his skin.

"Keep sucking, sweetheart" he growled, eyes fixed on your chest as it moved with every breath you took. Your tongue swirled around his digit, opening your eyes to look directly at him. "That's it, beautiful. Look at you and at those pretty lips, full of my mere thumb"

Your hands reached his knees, leaning forward to keep his thumb in your mouth, your sides brushing against his sweatpants.

It was unfair seeing him all dressed while you were naked and on your knees, eyes fixed on his. You dug your fingers on his knees, biting his thumb a little.

"What? You've got something to say?" he raised an eyebrow, pulling out his finger from your mouth. "What is it?"

You swallowed hard, staring eyes and dilated pupils as you looked at his handsome face, then you leaned on him, cheek resting on his thigh.

"I need you" you whispered, rubbing your cheek on his sweatpants, looking up to him. "Please, I'm all naked and just for you... please, Ben..." your voice was soft, filled with lust and love, eyes searching for his, for the approval.

Benjamin chuckled, enjoying the show you were doing to him, for him. You were just a messy little thing, eager to please his every command, just so he he could give you more than just a feather-light touch.

"Get up, sweetheart" he commanded, palming his lap tentatively with one hand as he used the other to pull you from the forearm to sit there abruptly. You sat there, your breasts jiggled right in front of his face, making him smirk amused. "Such a pretty little girl, aren't you?" his question was rethorical, but you nodded at his question, squirming on his lap, feeling your core dripping wet, aching and clenching around nothing.

He smiled as you desperately started to rub your pussy on his clothed crotch, leaving traces of you arousal on his sweatpants, the wet stain of your juices making his cock harden even more, poking you heat.

"Stay still, baby" Ben grumbled, stopping your hips with a bruising grip. You whined at that, a cute pout adorning your lips. "I got you, alright? Just don't get fucking desperate. You're acting like a bitch in heat" his stubble brushed roughly on your bare shoulder as he bit your shoulder, leaving marks of his perfect teeth. "Get on your fours, now"

His voice was husky, full of determination and possession, denoting the control he had over you, knowing how bad you loved when he handled you. You nodded at his order, climbing off his lap on shaky legs, your thighs wet from your arousal and pussy throbbing around nothing.

You rested your hands and knees on the bed, arching your back a little as you looked at over your shoulder with hooded eyes, catching on him standing up from the bed, taking off his t-shirt and yanking down of his sweatpants along his boxers, making you gasp. You've seen him naked tons of times, but every time you saw him he made an impression on you, he made you feel even more eager.

Ben smirked, positioning behind you and gripping your hips roughly, knowing his fingers would leave marks on your soft skin, and pulled you against his aching cock, sliding his cock through your slit, covering it in your arousal. You moaned loudly, pushing your hips further against him, encouraging him to sink into you, presenting yourself eagerly.

"You want it, don't you?" he teased you, pushing just the tip between your slick folds, nudging past them. "I was right, you're, indeed, a bitch in heat. But don't worry, baby, I'll give you what you need"

Without warning, he pushed his whole length inside your throbbing pussy, the abrupt movement made you stagger a little, but his calloused hands kept you in place as he started to pound into without mercy and with deliberate movements, never losing the rhythm.

You let out a high pitched, brittle, pleasure filled squeal that had you almost mewling, eyes rolling back in ecstasy and gummy walls squeezing him again. His cock slid in and out easily, maybe it was due to your arousal that was wetting your cunt more and more, dripping down between your thighs until reaching the bedsheets.

"Oh, God!" you moaned when one of his hands left your hips, hitting sharply on one of your asscheeks, a dull sound that, when it collided with you, left its hand perfectly marked on your soft skin. "Ben- oh, fuck!"

A mocking smile graced Benjamin's lips, who continued to push his hips roughly against yours, kissing your cervix sweetly with the tip of his cock. Every vein of his shaft was caressing your channel, splitting you open, taking you to the highest point, clouding all your senses and filling your head with nothing but his cock.

Your head fell down with the pleasure, only to moan out loud when you felt a huge hand grab a good portion of your hair, pulling it back to bring your head back to its previous height. The sharp pain of the pull with the sensation of his dick sliding in and out was driving you nuts, Ben's roughness weakened your legs, but the only thing keeping you in place was his free hand, which occasionally slapped your butt, seeing it jiggle and getting red.

"Head up, and don't even think about lowering it, or I swear you won't reach your precious orgasm, sweetie" he mocked, a with a mischievous smile. "Your hair looks pretty in my hand. I should do this often"

You let out a mix between a broken chuckle and a gasp, eyes shut tight as he drank into the perfect way you took him, the perfect way he filled you. Your hands clung to the sheets on the bed, knuckles turning white due to the force you were using. The sound of the skin slapping against each other, his grunts and your moans were the music you needed.

Your walls fluttered around his shaft, squeezing him, and you felt your lower stomach tighten, and right at the second you felt that you would explode right there, Ben stopped, making you groan in frustration.

"Ben! Please!" you begged trying to move your head to look at him, but he tugged your head, keeping it in front. "Fuck, please"

"Nah, wanna see how long you can hold it" Ben grumbled, pulling out of you, His voice spilling a touch of perversion and mockery. "Think you can do it? Bet you can"

You rolled your eyes, the feeling of your pussy dripping down your thighs making you squirm.

This was gonna be a long, long night.

[slxtd1ary]

nsfw ramble - lazy morning & oral (dick! receiving)

he is enjoying it way too much.

your pretty self, eyelids fluttering from fatigue but glowing with a lust that makes his muscular chest rise and fall.

the lazy patterns you are tracing right over his happy trail. the shivers he's getting from this.

Fuck its perfect.

he doesn't even bother talking when you disappear under the light sheets, its like you are a siren underwater. sucking the damn life out of him.

“l-love— fuck y-you so good at this…”

what else could he say than praises? Your wet cavity enrobing his member. your hands wrapped around his sensitive balls.

no words are needed, just soft whimpers and delicate caresses around each other body.

just you hugging him as his cock soften. pampering kisses and mumbles about the rest of the day.

a/n: just felt freaky this morning ahhh

[hellinistical]

in which a study session gets a little awkward. And, well, you were really curious about tying this bow.

tw: not proof-read,

wc: 2.5k

The classroom is empty except for you and Caleb. The afternoon sun slants through the windows, casting long, golden streaks across the wooden desks. The faint scent of chalk dust lingers in the air, mixing with the crisp, worn pages of the textbooks scattered between you. The room is quiet, save for the occasional creak of a chair shifting under weight or the muffled sounds of students moving in the halls beyond the closed door.

Caleb sits across from you, his sleeves rolled up to his elbows, tapping the end of his pencil against his notebook. His brown hair falls slightly into his eyes as he hums, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. "You're staring."

"Yeah... I am," you admit, the words slipping out before you can stop them. Your voice is quieter than you expect, like it belongs to someone else.

Caleb’s smirk falters for a split second, his pencil pausing mid-tap. His eyes flick up to meet yours, searching, reading something in your expression that even you aren’t sure of yet.

You look a little lost in thought, like your eyes fixed on something and didn’t—no, couldn’t—move away. There was something about the way the light caught the strands of his hair, the way his brow creased slightly when he was concentrating. Or maybe it wasn’t just that.

Caleb tilts his head, amusement flickering in his gaze, but there’s something else there too. Curiosity. Something unspoken stretching between you, fragile as glass.

"You good?" His voice is softer now, the teasing edge smoothed out.

You exhale, forcing a chuckle, shaking your head as if to clear it. "Yeah. Just... distracted, I guess."

He doesn’t press, but he watches you a second longer, before dropping his gaze back to the notebook. "Well, if you’re gonna stare, at least pretend to take notes," he mutters,

You sit up straighter. "Random question."

Caleb raises an eyebrow but doesn’t look up. "Shoot."

You hesitate, rolling your pencil between your fingers. The words feel stuck in your throat, but you push them out anyway. "Have you ever looked at something—or someone—and just… not been able to look away?"

Your face heats up instantly. "Oh my gods, no—"

That gets his attention. His pencil stills, his fingers resting lightly against the page. Slowly, he lifts his gaze to meet yours.

For a second, he just studies you, his expression unreadable. Then, a slow, knowing smirk tugs at the corner of his lips. "That a confession?"

"I dunno," he cuts in, leaning forward onto his elbows, his voice lower now, almost playful. "Sounds like you’re asking if I ever get distracted by someone."

You open your mouth to argue, to tell him that’s not what you meant, but the way he’s looking at you—sharp, amused, curious—makes your mind blank for a second.

"Forget it," you mutter, flipping your notebook shut.

Caleb chuckles, shaking his head. "Nah, I don’t think I will." 

He turns over in his chair, leaning against the back of it, legs on either side like he has all the time in the world. His smirk hasn’t faded.

"What question are you on?"

You glance down at your notebook, realizing you haven’t actually written anything in the past few minutes. The problem on the page stares back at you, still unsolved, numbers and symbols blurring together like a foreign language.

"Yes, well, I got distracted," you mutter, flipping your pencil between your fingers.

"...Still on number six," you admit, gripping your pencil a little tighter.

Caleb huffs a quiet laugh, shaking his head. "You’ve been on number six for like ten minutes."

Caleb chuckles, tilting his head slightly. "Yeah, I noticed."

There’s something in the way he says it—light, teasing, but also like he’s testing the waters. His gaze lingers on you for a beat too long before he finally glances down at your notebook.

"Alright, let’s get back on track before you fail and blame me for it." He leans forward, resting his forearms on the desk, eyes scanning the problem you’ve been stuck on. "Okay, so where exactly did you get lost?"

You chew the inside of your cheek, gripping your pencil a little tighter. "Uh… like, step one?"

Caleb snorts, shaking his head. "Unbelievable. Alright, listen up, genius, I’m gonna walk you through this slowly."

You roll your eyes, but there’s something oddly reassuring about the way he settles in, ready to explain. Even with the teasing, he’s patient. He always is. And thats the problem. 

Good lord.

That, and the fact that you couldn’t stop staring at his fucking arms and hands.

The way his forearms flex slightly as he shifts, the way his fingers—long, steady, annoyingly nice—move effortlessly as he writes out the equation. You should be paying attention to the problem, but instead, your brain is hyper-focusing on the smallest things. The faint scars along his knuckles, the way he taps his pencil against the desk when he’s thinking, the way his sleeves are rolled just enough to be distracting.

Caleb’s voice cuts through your spiraling thoughts. "You’re staring again."

Your head snaps up so fast it almost gives you whiplash. "I am not—"

"Nah, you’re just mad I caught you," he says, smug as ever. Then, after a pause, he glances at you sideways, something unreadable in his expression. "You really that distracted?"

He raises an eyebrow, amused. "Uh-huh. So if I asked you to repeat what I just explained, you could do it?"

You open your mouth. Nothing comes out.

Caleb grins, leaning back slightly, clearly enjoying himself. "Exactly."

You groan, slumping back in your chair. "I hate you."

You don’t answer right away.

Because yes, you really are.

"Gimme your hand, Caleb." The words slip out before you can stop them, and you're already reaching for him, your fingers brushing his wrist before he has time to respond.

He looks at you, confusion flickering across his face for a second, before his usual smirk returns. "What, you want to see if I’ve been working out or something?" he teases, but his voice is quieter than before, almost like he’s waiting for you to explain.

But you don’t. You just take his hand, feeling the heat of his skin against yours, steady and warm. You can’t quite shake the feeling that you’re too aware of it now, of the way his hand fits in yours, of the way his pulse beats under your fingertips.

You tug gently at his sleeve, pushing it up, up, up. The smooth skin of his forearm gives way to the muscle underneath, and—good lord—there it is. His bicep. Not huge, but defined enough that it makes your heart beat a little faster than it should.

"Enjoying the view?" he asks, voice a little quieter, a little less playful.

You kick yourself mentally.

Why are you even doing this?

Caleb notices the way you’re staring, his smirk shifting into something a little more... knowing. His eyes flicker between your face and his arm, an unspoken question hanging in the air.

You take the pink ribbon from your hair, your fingers lingering on the soft fabric for a moment. Something about the motion feels like you’re stalling, like you’re trying to make sense of this sudden shift in the air, in the way Caleb is watching you now.

You glance at him, and before you can second-guess yourself, the words spill out. "Take your jacket off."

Caleb’s eyebrows shoot up, the usual playful glint in his eyes replaced with something deeper, something unreadable. He shifts in his chair, a slow smirk playing at the corner of his mouth.

"That’s a pretty bold request," he says, leaning back slightly, his tone shifting.

You don’t back down, holding his gaze. "Just do it."

"Is this the part where you finally ask me what you really want to?" he says, his voice low and teasing, but there’s a hint of something else in it. Maybe it's curiosity. Maybe it’s something more.

For a moment, there’s silence, but then Caleb slowly stands up, shrugging off his jacket. The fabric falls to the chair with a soft thud, leaving him in just a fitted shirt and jeans. He doesn't look at you while he does it, but you can see the subtle tension in the way he moves—like he’s waiting for something.

You stare at him, the faint rhythm of your heart picking up as he stands before you, the space between you suddenly feeling smaller than it ever has. You fight the urge to look away, but you can't. You don't want to.

"Oh yes, this is where I’ll stake my claim," you say, sarcasm lacing your words as you roll your eyes.

Except...

You notice something that catches you off guard. His ears are pink. A faint, almost imperceptible flush creeping up the side of his neck, like he’s embarrassed—or maybe even a little... self-conscious?

It makes your pulse quicken, though you can't quite explain why. Caleb's usually so confident, so in control. So why does this sudden, small vulnerability feel so... different?

He notices your gaze linger, and his smirk falters for a fraction of a second, before he covers it up with a chuckle. "You’re a real piece of work, you know that?" His voice is lighter now, but the tension between you feels like it’s shifted again—no longer playful, but something thicker, heavier.

You open your mouth to respond, but your throat tightens, and for once, the words don’t come. You wish you could just look away, but you don’t. You can’t.

Well, shit. You were just gonna tie the ribbon around his arm for a joke, something light-hearted to break the tension. But now, here you both are, with hot faces and a strange, thick air hanging between you.

You can feel it. The way the silence stretches out just a little too long, the heat in the room creeping up. His eyes, locked on you, sharp and searching. You reach for his arm, fingers brushing lightly over his skin as you tie the ribbon, your breath unsteady now.

But then you hear it.

His breath hitches, just a bit. A small sound that catches in his throat. And he holds it, like he’s waiting for something.

For a moment, you freeze, fingers stilling around the ribbon. Your heart’s pounding in your chest, loud and erratic. Caleb’s eyes flicker down to your hands, his chest rising and falling slightly quicker now, and you both seem to forget the joke you were going for.

The room feels smaller. The space between you, electric.

"You're not even tying it right," Caleb says quietly, voice strained, like he's trying to cover up the fact that the situation's gotten... weird.

You don’t respond immediately, still not entirely sure what’s happening, or how this got so far from where it started.

You glance at his paper, at all the answers written out neatly, and a plan starts to form in your mind. You make a mental note to just write it down and play it off like his tutoring actually helped. At least, that way, you won’t feel like you’ve wasted all this time—or worse, like you’ve been distracted for no reason.

"I don't want you to snap the ribbon."

You mumble it, the words feeling like a feeble excuse for the tension still hanging thick in the air. You’re not entirely sure why you said it, but it feels like you need something to anchor the moment, something that isn’t just the burning heat between you both.

Caleb blinks at you, eyes flickering down to the ribbon on his arm, then back to your face. There's a pause, a heartbeat of silence before he grins like he knows exactly what you're trying to do.

"I’ll get you more—"

He stops himself, the words he was about to say dying in his throat. His usual confidence is slipping, and you can see it now—the way his cheeks are really burning, a flush creeping down his neck. It’s subtle, but enough that you can tell he’s not quite as unaffected as he usually is.

You focus on tying the ribbon around his bicep, fingers moving carefully. The fabric slides against his skin as you make a neat little bow, but all you can think about is the way his body tenses when you do. It’s like every little movement you make has an effect, no matter how small.

He doesn’t say anything as you finish, but you can feel the shift. The air between you both feels different now—charged, like you’ve crossed some invisible line.

When you pull back, you can see Caleb’s eyes avoid yours for just a second. He runs a hand through his hair, a small, self-conscious gesture.

"You, uh..." He clears his throat. "You didn’t have to do that."

You shrug, trying to act casual, even though your heart’s racing a little faster now. "I did."

He stares at the bow on his arm, his gaze locked on it like it holds the answers to everything. The way the ribbon sits perfectly, just tight enough around his bicep, and how, if he bent his elbow even slightly, it would snap.

He breathes in, trying to steady himself, but his mind keeps replaying the moment. The way you tied it so effortlessly, the way your fingers brushed against his skin, the way it feels like you’ve both crossed some invisible line.

And then, his eyes flick to yours. You’re looking at it too, watching the bow with the same strange intensity, like you know exactly what he’s thinking.

His heart hammers in his chest.

Fuck.

There’s a flicker of something in his eyes, something he doesn’t want to acknowledge but can’t quite hide either. It’s in the way he shifts uncomfortably in his seat, the tension in his shoulders, the way he licks his lips like he’s trying to think of something to say, but nothing comes out.

"Shit," he mutters under his breath, voice rougher than usual. He’s staring at you now, his gaze sharp, but there's a vulnerability to it that wasn’t there before.

You clear your throat, your voice coming out a little more strained than you intended. "So! Um... 5-minute break?"

The words feel like an escape, a way to cover up the tension that's suddenly suffocating the room. You try to act casual, but your heart’s still pounding, the air between you both thick with everything unsaid.

Caleb doesn’t say anything for a moment, just keeps his gaze on you, that same vulnerability lingering in his expression. It’s almost like he’s trying to decide if he should say something or let it pass.

Finally, he nods, a little too quickly. "Yeah. Yeah, sure." His voice is a bit rougher, still carrying that edge. "Five minutes."

You both stand there, awkward for a beat, but somehow neither of you moves away. It’s like you’re both caught in this weird limbo, neither knowing how to take the next step without completely breaking whatever fragile thing is hanging between you.

The clock ticks on, and neither of you says anything, but you can feel the weight of it all in the silence.

[siddyyyyyyyy]

Desperation Bruce Wayne x fem!Reader

MDNI wc: 1.8K warnings: smut, softdom!bruce, p in v, light spanking (?), praise, was too lazy to write the aftercare, so just imagine it summary: Bruce gets frustrated at the charity event and eventually takes it out on you once you are home. a/n: divider (@saradika-graphics), i felt myself cringe while writing this, and that usually means that i did well. but still, im sorry if it's too cheesy or unrealistic, i did my best to give you my vision😖

You know that Bruce despises events like these, too many rich people who never had to work a single day in their life, who always try to brag to him about the most unimpressive stuff, or try to have intelligent conversations about economics or social studies. It‘s all the same stuff as well, it‘s always the same ‘intelligent‘ discoveries these people try to tell him about. Fortunately, you only had to hear about Bruce complains and never had to fave these people on your own. Unfortunately, you convinced your husband to tag along with him tonight.

You didn‘t expect for a lot of people to approach the both of you, but it still happened, as Bruce is used to. But when they did, they never really acknowledged you. The very least someone did acknowledge you, was to simply give you a side glance before continuing to ‘subtly‘ brag about about how many cars he has.

Bruce‘s hand stays at its familiar place, around your waist, giving you an occasional squeeze. The squeezes become more frequent as the people around the round table keep talking to him, not giving him a chance to even steal a sip of his drink. You notice his growing frustration, even when he hides it well. The guests around the ball room are chatting amongst themselves, creating a bubble of mixed conversations, together with the subtle scent of alcohol and different perfumes. No doubts, expensive.

Finally, Bruce has a brilliant idea, and excuses the two of you from the table, before standing up and walking to the middle of the dance area.

»All this talk about money and expensive models gets on my nerves… they don‘t even bother talking about the topic of today‘s event.« He murmurs lowly as he smoothly glides you along with him, one hand holding yours, the other propped up against the curve of your waist.

You chuckle softly in return, studying his tired features, »I know... they actually make me feel like an intelligent person for once.«

Bruce expression softens finally, keeping his eyes glued to you.

»You are intelligent… even if it‘s not hard to be smarter than them.« He can‘t help but tease lightly, a faint smile playing on his lips. You pinch his shoulder in return, crinkling his perfect suit slightly.

Your peaceful dance under the classical music from the romantic era gets interrupted as a rather old man approaches the both of you, wearing a rich smile on his face. Bruce‘s expression falls immediately, reluctantly stopping the dance, even though he selfishly wants to keep going and ignore everyone else. But that would be childish, too.

»I sincerely apologise for interrupting your wonderful dance, but I was wondering...«

Your husband restrains himself from letting out the most annoyed sigh ever, keeping himself composed in front of the unfamiliar man. Maybe another economics man, ready to ramble his ears off about nothing other than his spendings on money and begging for Bruce‘s opinion about his decisions.

You watch them interact with a faint smile, knowing very well about your husband‘s annoyance, noticing his jaw clench every now and then. Luckily, the older men steps away, leaving you alone.

»He could‘ve just… nevermind.« Bruce sighs out, not bothering to curse him out, considering you are both still at a public event. He shakes his head lightly and focuses his gaze back on you, expression growing less guarded. »Ready to leave? It‘s getting late.«

You can‘t deny his offer, getting sick of the sticky air inside the ballroom as well. Bruce feels more than reliefed once you step out of the large, barouque building, approaching the car, where Alfred‘s already sitting inside, waiting to drive you both home.

◖

Once inside, Bruce gets rid of his tie and hangs up his suit jacket, before he finally turns his full attention to you. You just got rid of your high heels and can‘t wait to slip into bed to give your feet a break, but once you glance at Bruce, you‘re sure this won‘t be happening anytime soon.

»I don‘t know ‘bout you, but this evening made me really worked up...«

He slurs out quietly while taking some steps closer to you, secretly hoping you feel the same way. He doesn‘t need to hope though, because you‘d be happy to provide him in anything. You nod in response, letting him come closer and almost close the gap between you both.

»Oh, definitely… but I kinda enjoyed seeing you frustrated for once.« You smirk up at him, a mischivous glint in your eyes. It makes him shakes his head lightly in return, although the corners of his lips curl up slightly.

»Cheeky,« he exhales softly before pulling you closer by your hip, gently connecting your lips into a sweet kiss. Your hand props up at his chest, curling around the cool fabric while Bruce deepens the kiss. He makes you tilt your head, his larger hand resting by the nape of your neck.

It takes a lot in him not to finish what he started in the hallway, but he eventually breaks the kiss and takes steadying breaths, his eyes trained on you like a prey.

Your back hits the door as soon as you reach your master bedroom, making you huff out softly. Bruce doesn‘t waste his time to attack your neck with open-mouthed kisses and light bites, working his way down to the column of your throat, and down to your collarbones. A quiet hiss escapes you as you feel his bites become harsher, probably enough to create faint marks the next day. Your hands desperately clinge to his shoulders, one at the back of his neck, keeping him close while keeping you steady on your feet. A soft growl escapes him, seeming impatient. His hands finally stop roaming over you curves, picking you up by the back of your thighs. He sets you up against the next furniture, his moves being rushed and needy. Due to his rushed demeanor, he placed you down on the surface of the dresser messily, making you shift to be more comfortable on it.

»Sorry, I… I didn‘t hurt you, right?« He catches his breath as he takes you in on top of the dresser, noticing your flushed demeanor.

»I‘m all good, just didn‘t expect this,« you answer, pulling him closer by the collar of his shirt. Bruce grows smug at your action, letting himself be pulled close again. His breath fans against you before he nuzzles to your neck. You feel a gentle tap at your thigh, his voice coming out low and commanding.

»C‘mon… spread,«

A light shiver goes through your spine, listening to his words without a single thought in your head. He settles in once your legs allow him to, pushing your evening dress a little more up.

You feel his cool hands trace your body until one of them travels down to your middle, gently rubbing and starting to work you up further. A breathy sigh leaves your lips before Bruce crashes his lips onto yours, swallowing all of your sounds. You weakly grip to his upper arm, supporting yourself as best as you can. His hand quickens its pace against your core through your lacy panties, making your brain melt. Your lips part further as your mind goes slack, allowing him to deepen the kiss and rub slow circles against your tongue with his.

A quiet whine leaves you as he suddenly stops, breaking the kiss too.

»Sorry, darl‘… patience.« He mumbles softly as he starts to undo his belt, keeping his hazy eyes trained on your face. You grow hotter under his eyes, trying to rub your thighs together again, but it‘s impossible with him between your legs. A faint smirk tugs at his lips, dragging his teeth against his bottom lip once his pants finally fall down.

Your eyes fall to his boxers, noticing the light patch on the front. Without further hesitation, Bruce‘s boxer briefs get pulled down, mixed with a quiet groan from his side.

He leans in again, his hot skin pressing against yours, feeling like you‘ll melt any second. You feel the way his lips trace along the side of your neck while he gently teases you, feeling his tip nudge against the outside of your panties. Your hand shoots out to hold onto him again, settling against his shirt as you grip tightly on him.

Having had finally enough of it, he pushes your panties to the side and dives in, being as gentle as he can, even in his desperate state. You tense up at the sensation, not used to his size, due to the busy lives of you both.

»Shh… it‘s okay. I‘ve got you,« Bruce gently shushes you and wrap his arms around your torso, keeping you close against him as he continues to gently drive in further.

You slowly relax again and regain your breath, keeping a tigh grip against his shirt. Once he bottoms out, you can‘t help but tremble slightly, being overwhelmed with the hotness and full feeling he provides. You nod against his shoulder, giving him the final sign for him to start out properly.

His rhythm starts out slow and sensual, but it quickly evolves into a quicker and rougher pace. He drives more urgently into you, trying to be gentle at the same time. The strokes are deep, knocking the breath out of your lungs. He adjusts his grip on you, changing the angle lightly as he continues to shove his hips against yours, not giving you a break.

The room fills with soft flaps from skin slapping against skin, your breathy moans mix with his deep groans, making the scene more erotic than it already is. The sensations finally start to kick in, making your breath hitch. He notices the slight shift in you, knowing it won‘t take long for you to come undone before him.

He leans back a bit to watch your face, his hands keeping a firm grip on your hips as he pushes himself into you even harder than before. Your eyes roll back, moans growing higher in pitch. He relieshes in the way you melt because of him, the way you look like you are losing your mind, all because of him.

He groans and a possesive feeling overcomes him, making his hips snap rougher against yours. Sure enough, your climax comes in after a few final thrusts, his jaw going slack as he feels how tightly you squeeze him.

His pace doesn‘t die down, if anything, he‘s trying to speed up a little further. It‘s not until he feels himself grow closer to the edge until he pulls out and continues to drive himself to pleasure with his fist. You hear him moan out softly and nestle his head against your shoulder once he finishes, white spurts of his cum painting your panties white. You run your hand along his back in a soothing motion, helping him calm down too. He comes down faster than you, meeting his eyes again after catching his breath.

»Let‘s clean ya‘ up… did so well for me.« He mutters as he rubs your upper thighs, eventually picking you back up into his arms and walking to the attached bathroom.

←MASTERLIST