#gripping on my chair armrests for dear life

[trinity-trouble]

me: oh <3

me: WOOHHH

[sgtbradfords]

something wild and unruly

Pairing: Tyler Owens x reader

Summary: You and the Tornado Wranglers seek shelter from the tornado inside a theater that was most certainly not up to modern building codes.

Warnings: life or death situation, minor character injury, hurt/comfort, dirty talk, flirting

A/N: It’s been a hot minute since I’ve written an x reader, but after watching the theater scene in Twisters, I just couldn't get this idea out of my head. Enjoy! :)

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‘This is it.’ you think, pushing yourself further up underneath a row of theater chairs as the sound of a freight train grew louder. 

In the two years that you had been working with The Tornado Wrangler, you had witnessed Tyler and Boone have numerous, exhilarating, and successful intercepts with one of nature’s most destructive forces, but always from the safety of your vehicle several miles away. Your job of keeping up with the ever-evolving data was rather tedious and very important, but it didn’t always require you to be in close proximity with the rotating column, which was something you preferred. Especially when staying back allows you to capture the beauty of the storm from behind a lens. 

For a moment, you allow yourself to go there, to imagine what this tornado would look like from the safety of an open field. In your mind, the massive wedge wasn’t wrapped by sheets of rain, making it one of the most photogenic you had ever captured, even though it was obliterating everything in its path. Through the screen of your camera, you would be able to see whole trees, sheets of metal, planks of wood, as they circulated through the air. 

Dexter yells something from the other end of the row, his words unintelligible as it pulls you out of your reverie, reminding you that you didn't have to imagine the destruction because you were living through it.

You adjust your sweaty palms along the base of the chair in front of you, muttering underneath your breath that everything was going to be okay. It was only going to last a few more seconds, right?

“Shit!” cries out a familiar voice as the screen at the front of the auditorium is pulled away, revealing the beast which rages outside.

Turning your head slightly to the right, you glance towards the floor of the row behind you. 

Tyler is frowning prominently, you might add, but that wasn't what unnerved you. No, what chilled you to the bone was the unmistakable fear in his glaucous colored eyes. Because if the Tyler Owens was scared, then the world as you know it was ending. 

The vibration in your palms intensifies as a decades worth of old dust and stale popcorn is sucked out of the building. There’s a small part of you that hopes that that’s the worst of it, that this little podunk would remain otherwise unscathed. But like a fool, the tornado proves you wrong by pulling the row of chairs in front of you away, leaving you suddenly exposed. 

“[Y/N]!” You hear Tyler yell, but by then it was too late.

You scream, a loud, guttural sound of peril that is lost to the wind as one of your hands loses its grip on the chair. Frantically, you look around for something, anything, that would be worth holding onto in a last-ditch effort in saving your life, choosing to grasp the leather of the armrest that was just within reach. 

The thought that you were quite literally about to die, crosses your mind as your body is lifted off the sticky floor and into the air. 

“Tyler!” you scream, knowing that you wouldn’t be able to hold on for forever. 

You watch as furiously he twists and turns, firmly wrapping the toe of his boot around the base of the chairs behind him, before reaching out towards you.

With both hands, you hold onto his wrist for dear life, your weightless body swaying in the air as more debris flies past you. It feels as though the moment lasts a lifetime, time slowing to a standstill as Tyler attempts to pull you back down, sending an intense throbbing sensation up your arm. 

You don’t know how long you hold on, but just as quickly as it began, did your buoyancy end, sending your body crashing to the floor. 

“Holy shit [Y/N],” Tyler says, kneeling in front of you. “Are you okay?”

“What's your definition of okay?”

It was a miracle that you hadn’t flown out the gaping hole at the front of the theater. So, were you okay? Not by a long shot, but was it better than someone finding your mangled body in a tree somewhere? Absolutely. 

You watch as his concern deepens, his brow pulling further inward as you give him a shaky smile. “I’m fine Cowboy, at least I will be.”

The look understandably fails in easing his worries. He glances towards your thigh. “You’re bleeding.”

“Am I?” You tell him, looking downward to find your jeans now tainted a crimson color thanks to a small jagged wound that ran across your thigh. You should probably be concerned about that, right? “I am. I’m bleeding. And I'm missing a shoe.”

“I need a first aid kit!” Tyler yells a little too loudly, causing you to wince.

“It's not that bad.” To prove a point, you move to your feet, only for your legs to wobble underneath your weight. 

Tyler rolls his eyes, “You resemble a newborn giraffe.”

“A cute newborn giraffe.” You giggle, easing yourself down into a theater chair. “I think I'm in shock.”

Raising a brow, Tyler kneels on the ground before you, first aid kit now in hand. “You think?”

So what if you were in shock or that you had what looked to be an insignificant wound that needed to be treated? There were people out there, in far worse condition than yourself, that needed help. 

“Better think of your happy place sweetheart, cause this is going to burn like hell.”

Tyler murmurs low apologies under his breath when you release a hiss as the alcohol pad sanitizes the cut, but the pain was short-lived as tenderly, he continues to provide treatment. 

You watch him closely, noting his features; the way his nose was furled, the way his lips thinned, or how his brow furrowed as he focused intently on putting a couple butterfly bandages over the open wound. It’s the same look he gets when trying to decipher where the hell the team was going to chase for the day. You shake your head at the imagery.

“All done,” He says, giving you a panty melting smile. Damn him. You can feel your cheeks warm, heart beating wildly inside your chest as you move to your feet. “Does the patient want a sticker or a sucker?”

“What the patient would like is to get out of here.” While you long for the opportunity to take a hot shower, you know that it'll be hours until you find yourself in the bathroom of a motel room. Instead, you brush off the dust off your clothes. “But for future reference,” your lips twitch into a smirk as you lean in close, whispering. “I prefer to do my sucking on my knees.”

It takes everything in you to walk away calmly, to not look back, not even once, but that doesn’t mean the intensity of his stare has no effect on you. More than once, does your knees threaten to buckle, but by some miracle you manage to keep your head held high. 

It was going to be a long couple of hours. 

[idkyetxoxo]

Cregan Stark - Frozen Ties

Summary - Forced into a marriage to secure alliances, she navigates the confines of her new life facing emotional turmoil and a complicated relationship. An unexpected act of kindness from her husband kindles hope, making her reconsider their union and find warmth in the icy politics.

Pairing - Cregan Stark x Targaryen reader

Warnings - None

Word count - 2437

Masterlist for Cregan • House of the Dragon General Masterlist.

"Mother, this is absurd! You can't promise me to him, you can't just send me away like this," I cried, my voice breaking as tears spilt down my cheeks. 

I stood before my weary mother, who wrung her hands together anxiously, her face etched with sorrow.

"My sweet daughter, I wish things were different, but this is necessary," she said, her voice heavy with regret. "You must marry him. We need the North's support."

"They have already declared for Rhaenyra," I protested, frustration making my voice tremble. I knew all too well how Aemond's newfound power had corrupted him.

"Does he truly think I can change Lord Stark's mind?" I continued, her hands gently cupping my face as she wiped away my tears.

"You know what Aemond is," she said softly.

"A monster," I mumbled, and she sighed deeply.

"That is not how you should speak about your king," a voice cut through our despair. We both turned to the door, where Aemond stood, composed and authoritative, his hands clasped behind his back.

"You, dear sister, will fulfil your duties as required," he said, advancing toward us with purposeful strides.

"I don't want to," I said defiantly. Aemond's face darkened with fury, his eye narrowing into a cold, merciless slit. He snatched my chin with a brutal grip, his fingers digging into my skin like talons, forcing me to meet his unyielding gaze. 

Alicent gasped, calling out his name in alarm, moving swiftly to try and intervene.

"Do as you're told and ensure he listens, or you'll be of no use to this family," Aemond commanded, shoving me back with a harshness that made me stumble. 

Tears flowed freely as I stared at the ground. 

My fate was sealed, and there was nothing left for me to do but accept it.

─── ✦⋅♡⋅✦ ───

The icy winds of the North tore through my cloak, each gust slicing into my skin like a blade. The endless expanse of snow and the pale, unforgiving sky mirrored the numbness that had taken root in my heart, where warmth and hope had once dwelled.

Each step toward Winterfell felt heavier, burdened by the weight of my impending marriage.

Upon arrival, I was met with a formal courtesy that did little to ease my anxiety. Winterfell, with its majestic yet unwelcoming presence, felt like a fortress of cold indifference. The great halls, silent and vast, bore witness to my inner turmoil.

Lord Cregan Stark awaited me in his dining hall, a brooding figure amidst the cold stone and flickering hearth. I entered with a mixture of trepidation and resolve. 

As he rose from his seat, his gaze was steady and unreadable.

"Lord Stark," I began, my voice trembling slightly but firm, "I need to understand why you agreed to this marriage. You have already pledged your support to Rhaenyra. How can you reconcile this with what's being forced upon me?"

He regarded me thoughtfully, his eyes reflecting years of experience and wisdom despite his youth. He gestured for me to take a seat across from him, and I did so, my heart pounding in my chest.

"When I pledged my support to Princess Rhaenyra, it was with the hope of ensuring stability and peace for the realm. Yet, the realm's stability is fragile, easily disturbed by shifting allegiances and the ambitions of those in power."

I leaned forward, gripping the armrests of my chair. "But why this marriage? Why agree to something that feels like a betrayal to your cause and to me?"

His expression softened, and he leaned back, considering his words. "In the intricate dance of politics, difficult choices must sometimes be made. This marriage, though forced, is intended to secure a delicate balance. The North's support is crucial, but so is the stability of our alliances. A strong marriage alliance can offer more security than mere pledges of support."

"But at what cost?" I asked, my voice trembling as a fresh wave of fear gripped my heart. "At the cost of my happiness and dignity?"

He looked at me with sympathy and resolve. "Sacrifices are often necessary for the greater good. I understand the personal toll this takes on you, and it is not a decision made lightly but it is my duty to ensure the North remains a steadfast ally, and this marriage is part of that duty."

I stared at him, struggling to reconcile his words with my reality. The burden of my impending marriage, the personal sacrifice, and the political manoeuvring felt overwhelming.

─── ✦⋅♡⋅✦ ───

A month had passed since our wedding, and the reality of my new life had settled in with an unrelenting chill. Each day felt like a repetition of the last, my existence reduced to a monotonous cycle of needlework and solitary moments with the horses. 

The stark beauty of the North, once so captivating, now seemed to mock me with its cold indifference.

I spent my mornings hunched over delicate threads, my fingers moving with mechanical precision. Needlework, though a distraction, was a constant reminder of how far removed I was from the life I once imagined.

In the afternoons, I would find myself wandering to the stables, seeking the comfort of the horses. Their warmth and calm offered brief solace from my sorrow. I cherished them, knowing they were the closest I would ever get to the dragon I longed to see again. 

As I brushed their coats, the tenderness in my touch reflected my deep yearning for connection. Yet, despite their gentle company, they could not fill the void left by my unmet desires and the strained nature of my marriage.

The horses, though beloved, were not my dragon.

Evenings were the hardest. As night fell and shadows lengthened across Winterfell, I retreated to my chambers with a heavy heart. 

The bed that once promised comfort now felt like a cage, and sleep came with difficulty. I would lie there, staring at the cold stone walls, my thoughts racing through a labyrinth of regret and despair.

Cregan, despite his stoic demeanour, was not blind to my misery. He saw the weariness in my movements and the sorrow in my eyes. He knew that the woman he had married had become a shadow, trapped in a life she had never chosen.

One evening, as I prepared for bed, I heard a soft knock on my chamber door. Cregan entered without waiting for an invitation, his presence a contrast to the cold, impersonal walls of my room. 

"May I join you?" he asked gently, though an underlying tension lingered.

I nodded, and he sat beside me, his eyes searching mine with an intensity that belied his usual composure.

"It's been a month," he began, his tone measured yet empathetic. "And I can see how this life has taken its toll on you."

I looked away, unable to meet his gaze, feeling the weight of his words. "You have no reason to concern yourself with my happiness, Lord Stark. I am here to fulfil my duties, not to seek solace."

"That's not entirely true," he said softly. "You are my wife, and it is my duty to ensure you are content, or at least as content as possible in this harsh land."

I sighed, the words catching in my throat. "This life is a cage, and I am its prisoner. I find no joy in my days, no comfort in my nights. I am lost in a place that is not my home, with a future that was never mine to choose."

He reached out, placing a reassuring hand on mine. His touch was warm, a contrast to the cold that had settled in my heart. "I understand this is not what you envisioned. But perhaps, if you allow it, we could find a way to make this arrangement more bearable."

I looked at him, my heart aching with a mix of gratitude and scepticism. "What can be done? I am bound to this life, and it feels as though my desires and dreams are nothing more than echoes in the wind."

"I am a dragon, I am blood and fire," I declared with a fervent intensity, my voice echoing the fierce spirit within me. "You are ice and snow. We were never meant to be." 

The words seemed to strike him deeply, causing a visible pain to cross his features.

His eyes met mine, filled with sadness and something softer, perhaps understanding. He took a deep breath as if steeling himself for what he was about to say.

"Perhaps we weren't meant to be," he conceded, his voice low but firm. "But here we are, bound by vows, by duty, by the threads of fate. And I refuse to believe that fate is so cruel as to leave us without choices."

I scoffed, a bitter smile curling my lips. "Choices? What choices do I have? I did not choose to come here, nor to marry you. Everything was decided for me—by kings, by lords, by the whims of men who never cared to ask what I wanted."

He flinched, as though struck, but his hand remained steady on mine.

For a moment, there was only the sound of our breathing, heavy and uneven. The tension between us was undeniable, a taut string ready to snap. 

His eyes bored into mine, his frustration clear but his sincerity even clearer.

"Then tell me," I said, my voice trembling despite my best efforts to steady it. "What is it you want from me, Lord Stark? What is it you truly desire?"

He hesitated, his expression softening as he seemed to search for the right words. "I want... I want us to find a way to coexist, to find a small measure of peace in this storm. I want us to try, together, to build something from the ashes of what we were forced to leave behind."

The words hung in the cold air between us, carrying both a challenge and a plea. I could feel my defences wavering, the walls I'd built around myself beginning to crack. I wanted to dismiss him, to cling to my anger as if it were a shield, but a small part of me buried deep beneath the resentment yearned for something more than this constant battle.

He watched me closely, waiting. I turned my gaze away, my heart heavy, unsure what to believe anymore.

"It might please you to know," he began, his voice carefully measured, "that I have made arrangements for Silverwing to be brought here."

I stiffened, my heart stumbling over itself at the unexpected words.

"What?" I asked, unable to hide the astonishment in my voice. I searched his face for any sign of deception but found none, only a quiet, earnest expression.

His smile widened just a fraction, his eyes holding a glimmer of hope. "I have had my men prepare the likes of a dragon pit to house Silverwing. It should be ready soon enough."

Before I could fully process the relief and joy that surged through me, I found myself instinctively pulling him into an embrace. The news of Silverwing's impending arrival filled me with an overwhelming sense of gratitude and happiness. 

The thought of being reunited with my dragon, my closest companion, was a balm to the loneliness that had marked my days.

He chuckled softly, his arms encircling me with a warmth that contrasted sharply with the chill of Winterfell. The sting of regret crept in for the harshness I had shown him mere minutes ago, for pushing him away when he had only tried to reach out.

As I pulled away slightly, I met his gaze with sincere eyes, the fire within me dimming to embers.

"I apologize," I said, my voice laced with earnestness. "I don't mean to suggest that you have been cruel to me. On the contrary, you have shown me a kindness that I didn't expect. Many men would not have endured their wives' coldness and indifference as you have."

His expression softened, and he nodded in understanding. "I meant it when I said that I do not wish this union to be a dreadful one. You are my wife, and I am your husband. Despite our differences, it is important that we strive to understand each other."

I sighed, feeling a sense of contentment wash over me. Perhaps I had been unfair in my judgments. 

Throughout the past month, he had never forced me into anything I wasn't willing to do. His patience and compassion had been genuine, and I began to see the depth of his character beyond the surface of our arranged marriage.

Taking a deep breath, I stepped forward once more and leaned down, pressing my lips to his in a kiss. It was a kiss of new beginnings, of understanding and tentative acceptance. 

In that moment, it felt as though we were discovering each other anew, exploring the possibilities of what our union could become.

The kiss deepened, each touch and caress reflecting a newfound willingness to bridge the gap between us. As we finally parted, the air between us seemed lighter, filled with the promise of a more hopeful future. 

With a tender smile, I looked into his eyes and took a courageous step. 

"Perhaps," I said softly, "if you are willing, you could stay with me tonight. We could share the same room, just to see what it might feel like."

His eyes warmed with surprise and appreciation. "I'd like that," he replied, his tone sincere. "I'll stay with you."

As we settled into the bed together, the room was bathed in the soft glow of a single candle. The warmth of his presence beside me was a comforting contrast to the coldness that had previously defined our interactions. We lay quietly for a moment, adjusting to the new closeness.

Cregan's voice broke the silence, a thoughtful note in his tone. "Would you like to go hunting with me next week? It might be a chance for us to spend some time together outside of these walls."

The idea of joining him for a hunt was enticing, and I smiled at the thought. "Yes, I would like that very much," I replied, my voice soft with genuine interest.

He smiled back, a sense of relief and anticipation in his eyes. "Then it's settled. We'll go hunting next week."

As we lay next to each other, the shared warmth and the promise of the coming adventure created a sense of closeness that had been missing for so long. 

The night was filled with a quiet intimacy, and as sleep began to claim us, I felt a glimmer of hope for the future we might build together. 

In this cold land of ice and snow, perhaps there was room for warmth, connection, and the kind of companionship that could grow into something truly meaningful.

A/n - Get you a man who builds you a dragon pit cause you miss your little beast

[justporo]

Astarion sees you're almost falling asleep and will drag you to bed now!

I would need this on like a daily basis. And I guess so do many of you - so let the vampire drag you to bed and GO! GET! SOME! SLEEP!

It was so late it could have been called early. Outside you could already hear the birds chirping, cheerfully greeting a new day. Which meant that it was more than high time to crawl into bed. And doubly so because you lived with a vampire who fared even worse with sunlight than you.

But you were still crouched over your desk and the papers there.

Your eyes were tired. You barely saw what you were working on anymore. And you knew you could get this done when you were fully rested and it would only take a matter of minutes. But you were so desperate to finish this.

Unfortunately, you had a tendency to be very determined (someone else usually called it stubborn but you always pretended you had gone deaf all of a sudden when that happened). But this tendency had brought you this far and probably saved your life more than once. And you wouldn't be bested by this piece of work!

But your head was slowly falling, your eyelids growing as heavy as lead.

And you only jumped back up when you heard that certain someone enter the room, being purposefully noisy to make you aware of it. You were grateful for that because if the vampire had snuck up on you, like he was fully capable of, it might have not ended well with you being this exhausted.

“Slacking off on the job, are we?” you heard his familiar teasing voice as he came closer. You felt his presence as he leaned on the table around you - basically caging you with his arms, sleeves rolled up to his elbows as usual. His lips were awfully close to your ear and the hairs on your neck stood on end as you didn't dare rip your eyes from your work.

“Don't you think this can wait, love?” he whispered now directly into your ear causing a hot and cold shiver to run down your spine.

But with this he had pushed the wrong button. Almost involuntarily you felt one of your eyebrows rise up and your lips forming a pout: “No, Astarion, I don't think it can wait.”

You turned your head around to face him and saw him smirk, making you even more annoyed at him. He leaned in closer, causing his chest to brush against your head now, his hands moved to cover yours.

“Do you really think a stack of papers can't wait more than your caring lover craving your calming touch?” he murmured with a pout that mirrored yours while his deft fingers freed your writing quill out of your angrily clenching fingers. You couldn't resist him long. His hands were used to open up more difficult things than your desperate grip on your writing utensils. Also his absolutely instrumentalized big red eyes he looked at you with were absolutely working their usual enchanting magic on you.

Not enough though for you to not make a snide remark about what was happening.

“Well, for starters the stack of papers doesn't talk back.”

“You think I'm funny, my love.”

“It also isn't as full of itself.”

A mockingly offended gasp while Astarion’s hands moved the papers out of your reach.

“My heart, you hurt me.”

“Ah see, it also doesn't guilt trip me.”

The vampire's hands wandered up over your arms to your shoulders. “I can't do right by you tonight, can I?”

“You could just let me keep working on my thing.”

A dramatic sigh and Astarion let his head fall forward and onto your shoulder. Then he let go of you and took a step back.

“Do you really want to keep working, dear?” he sounded sincere now and you suddenly felt true guilt as you looked at him. He stood there, arms crossed over his chest, eyes still awfully wide and shining.

But the urge to not keep business unfinished still had you in its claws.

After a few heartbeats you opened your lips to answer, but-

“Too bad, you're coming with me now, my love.” Astarion exclaimed and with rogue quickness grabbed your chair by the armrests to drag it away from the desk and turn it around to him. “You need your beauty sleep, I can't be seen walking around with a walking corpse!”

You squealed when you felt your body get yanked around so quickly while your tired brain was almost incapable of catching up. Thus you were almost confused when you had ended up on Astarion’s shoulder a moment later.

There was no energy left in your body to resist this infuriating man any longer so you just played the part of dead weight draped over his shoulder - since he had already coined you as such - and couldn't stop yourself from giggling.

“See, darling, I told you: you think I’m funny.”

“It's just sleep deprivation talking.”

“Ah, so you agree with that too.”

You resisted to answer him with something he would only twist around again to fit his agenda. Instead you just slapped his butt you had quite the delectable view of at the moment.

Astarion hissed and just slapped your behind in return. You only giggled more.

“I should have left you at your godsdamned desk, let you fall asleep right there to drool on the papers,” he murmured under his breath and ended it with something about how ungrateful you were while he threw open the bedroom door; your favourite drama queen.

Then he made quick work to get you off his shoulders with an exaggerated groan which you were sure wasn't fully acted.

As soon as your body hit your soft bed the last of your energy decided to evaporate into the aether. You were almost falling over if not for the vampire's quick reflexes catching your wrists.

With quick fingers and more snarky remarks you had no power to reply to anymore he undressed you to your underwear.

And with more overly dramatic groaning and a roll of his eyes since you provided absolutely no help did he turn you to lay down. He carefully placed your head on the pillows which you thanked him for with a dreamy sigh. Your eyes closed on your own. The blanket was thrown over you and more rustling told you that Astarion was quickly undressing as well.

When the mattress shifted under the vampire's weight as he got into bed next to you you barely even noticed it anymore.

With final efforts Astarion dragged you onto his chest. Your arms slung around him and your legs tangled with his automatically - you had done so hundreds if not thousands of times already.

“All this work just to get you where you belong,” Astarion whispered to you and clicked his tongue disapprovingly as he began rubbing lazy circles on your back. You only hummed contentedly as you felt your body relax fully into him and his touch.

Your last half-coherent thought as you drifted off to sleep was that, indeed, you had to agree with him on this one: you were right where you were supposed to be.

Taglist: @spacebarbarianweird @sunfire-ancunin @tragedybunny @dependsonthedream @tallymonster @magazzne @micropoe10 @aoirohi @my-bunny-prince @lumienyx @fayeriess @darlingxdragon @hereliesblackdragon @ayselluna @ajokeformur-ray @i-cant-get-into-my-other-account @rikuyrk06

[mitsuyeaah]

mean and filthy.

— ran haitani, sanzu haruchiyo x f! reader

cw: dom!ran & sanzu, sub!reader, nsfw (mdni), smut, threesome, voyeurism, unprotected sex, anal (f receiving), brief clit slapping, creampie, fingering (f receiving), masturbation (m), edging, dacryphilia, multiple orgasms (m & f), degradation, ass slapping, pet names (baby, princess). JUST. PURE. FILTH.

a/n: relieving 🥮 anon and i’s ranzu thoughts!! this’ll be my last drabble for a while (maybe) since i’ll be working on my oneshots hehe

ran haitani, your boyfriend, always thought of the most extreme ideas when it came to exploring new things in an intimate setting, of course not in a way that made you uncomfortable or anything. god, he would never try to make you uncomfortable. it was in a way that increased pleasure for the both of you, and boy did he not disappoint with those ideas.

which is why you’re lying naked on your shared king-sized bed making out with not your boyfriend, no, but none other than his good friend, sanzu. you moaned into his mouth as he brings a hand down to rub fast, tight circles at your clit while occasionally toying with your wet folds, and shallowly inserting a slender finger to tease you.

ran sat on a chair at the corner of the room which gave him a full view of you and sanzu. he bit his lip at the way your hips desperately bucked against sanzu’s hand, his own hand languidly stroking his hard cock at the view. fuck, you were always so eager for pleasure, that’s what he loved about you.

“aah! sanzu!” sanzu inserted a finger which earned a loud moan from you. his digit was slender but long, just like ran’s but the way he played with your cunt was different, he was more desperate, pulling more whines from your parted lips. “haah.. that’s it baby. show your fuckin’ boyfriend who’s making you moan this loud.” sanzu mused against your cheek, his lips ghosting over your warm skin before shooting a smug smile towards ran—aquamarine eyes filled with lust and pride.

normally, ran would’ve clicked his tongue at sanzu’s smug face and showed the man who could make you moan louder but he didn’t; he was too turned on from the sight unfolding in front of him.

sanzu was merciless. after adding another finger, he’d quickly pump them in and out of your sopping cunt before completely removing them—all slapping your clit with his other hand. he did this for a couple of times until you were begging for his fingers to remain inside you and deliciously fill your cunt.

of course he wasn’t going to let you cum that easily.

“beg for it.” sanzu looked down at your naked body. a complete mess yet so beautiful. you held his gaze, your eyes clouded with lust and brimmed with tears of want and pleasure. “p-please, sanzu..” you bit your lip, embarrassment swallowing you whole.

you felt your body burn as those two words left your lips. it wasn’t like you weren’t new to begging, no. oh, ran haitani made you beg more than you could remember but you just didn’t think you’d be begging for a man other than your boyfriend. sanzu’s name felt foreign on your tongue but it tasted like excitement, and you liked being excited.

sanzu raised a rosy brow as his turquoise eyes bore into you—for a colour so serene and icy, you burned under it. “hmm? i can’t hear you, baby. you have to be louder than that..” he gave you a saccharine smile. he was so pretty. sanzu was so pretty; long rosy strands from his mullet cascaded down to his shoulders, his fringe resting just above his prominent lashes.

“please, sanzu! fuck me with your fingers!” you curled your toes in embarrassment as you felt ran’s amethyst gaze on you; you could see from the corner of your eye that he was pumping himself faster, one hand gripping the armrest for his dear life.

sanzu hummed in approval, sloppily licking at his digits before shoving them past your folds. you yelped at the sudden speed of his fingers, and how it filled your cunt easily. “see? all you had to do was use your words.” he leaned down to grope a breast with his free hand while his mouth sucked on the other.

you moaned at the feeling of his hot tongue swirling around your sensitive bud. fuck, you were so near. “i-i’m cumming.. fuck!” you threw your head back against the pillow, back arching in pleasure as you felt the pit of your stomach bubbling.

but of course, it all disappeared as sanzu removed his fingers. you whined in protest at the sudden emptiness of your cunt, squeezing around nothing.

“all fours for me, baby. let’s give your boyfriend a show, yeah?” he kissed your collarbone before giving you space to adjust into the said position. sanzu cursed under his breath, groping the fat of your ass as his curious eyes wandered up and down your naked body.

he grabbed the base of his cock and rubbed the tip from your sopping entrance all the way to in between your ass, causing you to wiggle your hips in desperation and grip the sheets a little harder. fuck, sanzu was such a tease. “mmm? impatient now, aren’t we?” you clenched at his honeyed tone—you were so turned on to the point that everything he did made your head spin.

“hah. look how impatient your baby is for my cock, haitani.” sanzu looked over to the side where ran was, a smirk plastered upon his scarred lips. ran watched as you bit down on your lip while sanzu continued teasing you with the tip of his cock. “be a good girl for him, princess.” ran finally piped up from his seat. his voice was strained from trying to hold back moans as he fisted his cock.

you locked gazes with your boyfriend but before you could even nod in compliance, sanzu pushed into you without warning. your eyes widened as you cried out sanzu’s name in pleasure while holding ran’s gaze. “that’s right. moan out my name while you look at him.” he groaned, bottoming out. he groped your ass as his hips rested flush against your skin, relishing the way your cunt hugged him so tight.

ran was definitely longer in length but sanzu’s thickness made up for it. fuck, you felt so full that you could cum right then and there.

both arms that were planted against the mattress were bound behind your back by sanzu’s large hand; with both arms secured behind your back, he was in full control. his other hand snaked to your front to rest at the base of your neck, putting light pressure around it to hold you in place.

a string of profanities mixed with incoherent sentences left your lips as sanzu started pounding you from behind. the sound of skin slapping and wet noises reverberated throughout the whole room. ran gripped the base of his cock hard, the urge to cum dissipating right away. he wanted to prolong this, he wanted to cum at the same time as you.

ran cried your name as he teased the tip of his dick with his thumb, the pad of it rubbing against his sensitive slit. he watched the way your breasts bounced with every powerful thrust from sanzu’s hips, your face contorting in pure bliss from another man’s cock. tsk, such a dirty girl you were.

he closed his eyes and threw his head back, listening to the erotic sounds that came from you and sanzu. hearing such moans from you turned him on alone but your whimpers mixed with sanzu’s groans and praises? fuck, he was in heaven.

“ah! ah! ah! sanzu—ngh!” “hmm—fuck! wha-what do you want, baby?—aah!” he pressed your back closer to his chest to whisper into your ear, so that you were almost kneeling upright. the new angle immediately made your eyes roll back, it drove his cock deeper into you, and you were sure to cum any time soon from how he was ploughing his hips into your ass.

“fuck! fuck! mhm—ah! i’m cumming!” you threw your head back against his shoulder, eyes shut tight. sanzu latched his lips to your neck, nibbling and sucking at the supple skin while his cock mercilessly rammed into you. he chuckled against your skin before shoving your body back down to the mattress, your arms splayed right beside you.

“watch this, haitani.” sanzu let out a breathy laugh.

your eyes flew open as he pulled his dick out, only the tip of it remaining inside you. unmoving. “wha-what.. no, no please! let me cum, sanzu! please!” you supported your torso with trembling arms and looked back at the man with teary eyes. you didn’t wait for him to do anything and instead you started fucking yourself back to him.

sanzu smirked at your trembling figure moving back and forth against his cock. he watched the way your cunt desperately swallowed his dick as you moved yourself against him. fuck. fuck, you were so close. tears ran down your warm cheeks from the frustration of having your orgasm so harshly ripped from you.

your body shook with frustration and want.

even if you were fucking yourself back onto his cock, it just wasn’t the same. none of it was the same—the pleasure was dull, and it didn’t make your eyes roll back. “please, sanzu..” you bowed your head, trying to build up the minimal pleasure you were getting but it was slow, and you needed it now.

“look at you.. such a slut for another man’s dick. even fucking yourself back onto it. how filthy.” sanzu brought a hand down to your ass, earning a loud whine from you. “oh, come on. you can do better than that, princess.” he was mocking you. that was what ran called you earlier, and now he was using it to mock you. he slapped your ass a few more times, causing you to grip the sheets harder and clench around him tighter.

“i-i can’t anymore.. please. just fuck me..” your arms wobbled and gave out. your torso hit the mattress with a soft thump. your frustrated sobs were muffled by the mattress, your body shaking with each small sob you let out. "aww, don't cry now." sanzu chuckled as he massaged the spot on your ass that he's been slapping.

he molded his body to yours, chest flushed against your back before sliding the entirety of his length. sanzu trapped you under his weight and resumed pounding into you, reclaiming the same speed he was going at earlier. uncontrollable moans poured from your lips but were easily muffled by the sheets.

you couldn't do anything else but take what he was giving you.

sanzu grabbed your chin to turn your face towards your boyfriend who has been desperately fisting his cock at the scene in front of him. "look at him. look at him while you take my fuckin' cock. look at him while you moan my name and no one else's." he whispered against your ear, goosebumps forming under his hot breath.

you bit your lip at the sight of ran bucking his hips up. his hand swiftly worked around his hard cock, cheeks flushed and lips parted. "fuck, princess! y'taking him so well.. look at you--ngh!" sanzu didn't miss the way you clenched around his dick as ran reached for his balls with his free hand, tugging and massaging them.

that sight alone was enough to bring you over the edge.

"shit, sanzu.. i'm cumming—aah!" without warning, you gushed around his cock. sanzu let out a loud groan from the way you clenched around him; you were gripping him so tight that he almost couldn't thrust his cock back inside you. a fresh set of hot tears streamed down your face as pleasure engulfed your whole body.

throughout the whole time your orgasm washed over you, you held ran's gaze despite moaning another man's name. it didn't take long for ran to reach his climax, his hot cum spurting from the tip of his cock, painting his fingers and abdomen white. your ears were ringing with pleasure but you could hear his desperate cries for your name.

sanzu buried his face into your hair, another shameless groan leaving his lips as he sheathed his cock inside you to unload his cum. you whined at the feeling of his hot cum filling you up--never in years you would imagine yourself to be full of another man's semen while your boyfriend watched and jerked off to it.

"aah yeah, that's it! y'feel so fucking good, baby. so perfect for me—ngh!" you let out a small whine as sanzu came down from his high and slowly pulled his dick out.

there were two things that told you this whole thing was nowhere near done; the first one was that sanzu was still hard despite having just come down from his orgasm, and the second one was that ran had not fucked you yet.

it was all confirmed when ran��after cleaning himself up—made his way over to you and sanzu. the mattress dipped under his weight, and he didn’t hesitate to pull you onto his lap as he rested his back against the headboard, your knees on either side of him. as if on instinct, you grabbed his heavy dick that lay against his abdomen, gently stroking his shaft.

ran let out a breathless laugh and held your hand to halt your movements, “i think i’ve had enough of hands, princess.. i want to feel you around me, hm?” his voice alone caused you to rub your thighs together. fuck, you were getting horny again.

wordlessly nodding at your boyfriend, you grabbed the base of his cock and aligned it to your entrance. ran loosely rested his hands on your hips, rubbing soothing circles at your skin as you sank down on him. your body trembled with sensitivity, taking him inch by inch until you were flush against his skin.

his cock slid inside with ease from sanzu’s cum mixed with your own, and thinking about it turned him on even more.

you slumped your body against him and moaned, you were too fucked out and lost in pleasure that all you could do was sit on his dick. you knew ran wanted you to ride him but at this point, sanzu was to blame for the lack of energy you had now. before you could say or do anything, you felt the bed dip behind you. you knew it was sanzu.

sanzu positioned himself behind you and in between ran’s legs before prodding the tip of his dick against your ass. you weren’t inexperienced with anal but you and ran barely did it because he simply liked the feeling of your cunt better.

your nails dragged along ran’s naked chest, leaving trails of pink and red as sanzu slowly pushed his length into your ass—eyes rolling back at how tight it was. fuck, the stretch was delicious. sanzu was thicker than ran, so you needed a few seconds to get used to the feeling. “fuuuck..” you whined at how full you felt.

ran let out a small chuckle, he removed his hands from your hips and propped his elbows atop the headboard. “bold of you to think you’ll let us do all the work, princess..” this earned a breathless laugh from sanzu as well, his hands ghosting up and down your sides.

fuck. they were mean, no. they were mean and filthy.

the way you had to work and beg for your orgasm frustrated you, and you knew they weren’t going to budge unless you showed them you wanted that sweet release.

you whimpered, bracing your arms against ran’s chest. you bit your lip at the feeling of his tip kissing your cervix as you positioned to move. soft pants came from both men as you worked your thighs and hips, it was hard to move at first—trying to find the right angle where both cocks would slide in and out smoothly but you got the hang of it.

it felt so good but you were so fucking out of it.

your mind was hazy, body trembling, and your vision clouded with tears. sanzu snaked his arms around your front to grope at each of your bouncing breasts—squeezing, massaging, and tugging at your sensitive buds. “mhm! sanzu! shit..” you slumped your body backwards, resting against sanzu as you bounced harder on their cocks.

the room was filled with squelching noises and loud moans coming from all three of you. it was hot, and stuffy but none of you cared. not when the sex was this good.

“please fuck me.. i-i can’t anymore. ran, baby, please..” your thighs burned from the constant movement. you could feel the pain from your legs more than the pleasure both their cocks were giving you, and it frustrated you.

“i’ve been a good girl.. please.. sanzu.” the pace of your movement came to a halt as you sobbed in defeat. you simply couldn’t chase the orgasm you badly wanted; you were tired and spent. ran reached out a hand to your cheek and thumbed at the lone tear that slipped down—a corner of his lip tugged up.

“hmm. you have been a good girl.. what do you say, sanzu?” thankfully, the man behind you hummed in agreement, too fucked to even form words from the way your ass gripped him tightly.

without a warning, both men thrusted their hips up, earning a loud yelp from you. ran sat up from the headboard, placing one hand on your hips and the other rubbing tight circles at your clit. “f-fuck! ngh—aah!” your back arched, pushing your breasts further into sanzu’s hands as you moaned incoherent sentences out loud.

at this point, you were long gone.

ran and sanzu were pounding into you so hard that it made you see stars—their cocks deliciously filled your holes, and you were in cloud nine. you were a moaning mess; lips parted, head lolled to the side, and your body limp as they mercilessly fucked you.

“shit, princess! look at you—ngh! taking our fucking cocks like a champ..” ran praised you, which went straight to your cunt, getting you wetter.

you didn’t know what to do with your hands, so one hand gripped ran’s wrist that worked on your clit while the other moulded against sanzu’s that groped a breast.

“ah! aah! shit—fuck! i’m so close! s-so fucking close.. please don’t stop—mhm!” ran bit his lip at the sight of the base of his cock forming a white ring. your wetness dripped down to his balls and down to the mattress. fuck, it was filthy but he loved it. “god—fuck! you’re so fucking tight! haah!” sanzu bit your shoulders, eyes clamped shut as he picked up his pace.

“yeah? cum for us, princess. you’re a good girl right? cream around this cock, then..” ran groaned as you clenched around his cock.

that was all it took you to reach your high. your body lurched forward, slumping against ran’s sweaty chest as the knot deep in your stomach finally snapped. your eyes rolled to the back of your head, body stiffening as pleasure swallowed you whole; your mouth was parted but no sounds came out, and you swore your vision turned white.

your face contorted in pure bliss, fingers and toes curling at the intense pleasure. fuck, it was so good. too good.

ran and sanzu’s hips didn’t falter despite you clenching tightly around their cocks, determined to reach their orgasm. ran brought a hand to your back, ghosting his fingers up and down as he whispered endless praises. tears streamed down your face as both men rode out your orgasm.

“fuck, i’m cumming—aah! fuuuck yeah..” sanzu threw his head back and stilled his hips to shoot his load into your ass. his body trembled from the amount of pleasure he felt as he filled you up to the brim with his cum, tears clouding his vision.

it didn’t take long for ran to follow suit; his chest heaving up and down as broken moans slipped past his pink lips. ran lifted his hips in the air to sheath his cock inside you. his abdomen clenched as he came, hot cum mixing with your own and sanzu’s. he gave you a few more strokes, fucking his cum into you before slumping against the headboard.

it was silent, and all you could hear were the mixed pants that came from the three of you. the atmosphere was heavy and the room smelled of sex but none of you seemed to care, trying to collect yourselves from the mind blowing orgasm you all just had.

ran and sanzu were very different but they had one thing in common, they were mean and filthy. just how you liked it.

© mitsuyeaah

[givemea-dam-break]

hello my love <3 can i request fluff with lockwood where y/n is sick and she also has injury on her hand (something like lucy's maybe?) and when lockwood wants to clean it she's not happyy about that 'cause she only wants to sleep and he's like "i'm your fully qualified doctor, remember? you have to listen to me, love", btw i absolutely adore your stories, keep writing cause you're amazingg, mwah <3

a/n: of course!!! domestic lockwood is the best in my humble opinion. and im so glad you like my stuff so much, love you my dear <3 also taking this as an opportunity to apologise for the terrible titles for most of my fics i spend ages thinking but can never think of something good lmao

warnings: minor injury detail gn reader

Perfect - Anthony Lockwood

The library is the warmest room in the house, and by far your favourite, so it's no surprise when Lockwood finds you there, curled up on your designated armchair close to dozing. He smiles at you as he steps in, carrying a tray of something or other that he places down on the little coffee table before sitting in his armchair.

There's something about him today that makes you want to laugh. Maybe it's the way he's been mothering you all day because you're ill. Maybe it's the lack of Anthony Lockwood professionalism he has today, what with his crinkled hoodie and pink fluffy socks - aren't those the ones George has been looking for? He's so unlike his usual self today, but also inadvertently just like himself. A walking anomaly.

"How are you feeling now?" he asks quietly, as if your ears may explode if he speaks too loud. "Any better?"

"No better than I did seven minutes ago," you say with a laugh. "Lockwood, you don't have to keep a constant eye on me. You've got things to do."

"One of which being to take care of you," he says. "Which reminds me, are you finally going to let me take a look at that cut on your arm? It needs cleaning."

"I trust you with my life, but I do not trust you with the first aid kit. You'll shove half a tube of Germaline on it. Besides, I want to go to sleep, and here is cosier than my room."

He gives you a look, but it's halfhearted. "You can sleep once I've cleaned it. I've brought you some of your favourite biscuits and a brew in return."

You lift your head from where it had laid on your arms. "Doesn't sound like a very fair trade for you."

"Ah, I'll cope."

"Well, it doesn't hurt anymore. I'm sure it's healed amazingly and then I'll be back to my wonderful self in no time."

"I'm not leaving until I've at least taken a look at it. Then after that, you can have your tea and go to sleep." His grin is dazzling then. It's the kind he always uses when he's trying to get his way. "I'm your fully qualified doctor, remember? You've got to listen to me."

If you could be bothered, you could push for him to leave you in peace, but your head feels like it's full of water and you want to go to sleep. So, begrudgingly, you shift so that your arm hangs over the armrest of your chair.

The gentleness of Lockwood's hands as he takes your arm and slowly, carefully peels off the plaster you haphazardly placed on shocks you. His fingers are soft, holding your arm as if it's a delicate thing that could break at any moment.

He takes a minute to just look at the gash on your forearm. It's no longer than your index finger, cutting diagonally across halfway up, and it's still oozing some blood. The plaster is covered in it, and he deftly throws it into the bin before taking his little first aid kit from the tray he brought in. Its original purpose was for you to use it on him whenever he got banged up on cases, which was more often than not, but there's something strangely special about him using it on you now. It makes you feel a little giddy.

"You got this from a glass door, right?"

You're acutely aware of his touch as he shifts his grip so as to clean the cut. "Yeah. George knocked me into it by accident. I'm surprised this is all I got out of it."

His reply comes in the form of a quiet hum. As he cautiously cleans the wound, you watch as his brows furrow a little with concentration, creasing a little line between them, and his top lip twitches a little bit. A little quirk, you've noticed, when he's particularly invested in something. Usually, it's the latest gossip rag, in which he always loses sight of the real world, but now it's you. A small flutter arises in your chest.

He wipes over a small part of the gash, and you suck in a sharp breath. The sound makes him falter, the wipe hovering an inch above your skin as he looks up at you.

For a moment, then, you forget about the pain. Through his thick lashes, his eyes are brimmed with worry and apologies, but after insistence that you're fine, he continues to clean the fresh blood away.

"Let me put the cream on the plaster," you murmur. "You'll put way too much on."

He smiles. "Who's the qualified doctor here?"

"In all honesty, Skull is probably better at this kind of thing than you are."

"I'll pretend I didn't hear that."

"Do."

But, even still, he passes you the tube of Germaline and a long plaster. A moment later, you pass it back, and with delicate hands, he places it over the gash. It stings a little, and you hiss at the sudden cold, but the feelings are gone before the minute is even over.

"Perfect," he says with a soft, private smile. "All sorted."

His hand lingers, still holding your arm, and you suddenly feel more awake than ever. It's as if the tiredness has just melted away into the cushions of the armchair and down into the floor with only his touch, and you yearn for him to not let go. To stay exactly where he is.

And, as if having read your mind, he does.

If someone were to walk in, the scene would be strange. You, curled up in your seat with your arm hanging over the armrest, head resting on your own shoulder, and Lockwood, holding your arm as if it's some valuable thing, and simply looking at you with those expressive eyes of his.

"How do you feel?" he asks. His voice is a little breathy.

You're trying not to focus on the feeling of his fingers slipping down your arm until they almost - almost - slot in between yours. You shift slightly so that your head is in a position that isn't causing a crick in your neck, and it only grants a better view of him. His dark hair glowing bronze in the firelight, the ever so faint freckles on his nose, the dip in the left corner of his lip that insinuates another smile.

"A little better." The words almost catch in your throat when his fingers curl around yours just so. They don't hold yours, but they're so, so close. You can feel his pulse - or is that yours beating wildly out of control? "Do you have any paracetamol?"

He takes a second to realise what you've just said, and his hand leaves yours as he rakes about in the first aid kit for the painkillers. Out of pure mothering ability, he pops two out of the packet and hands them to you along with your mug of tea. Not the nicest thing to swallow them down with, but it'll do.

"You need to be more careful on cases," Lockwood says.

"Tell that to George. He's the one who bumped into me." Then, you shrug. "I suppose I shouldn't have gone when I've got the worst head cold I've had in yonks."

A breathy laugh escapes his lips, and you notice how he's looking down at your hand.

It's a bold move, completely unlike you, but you reach for his hand, looping your fingers through his. His hand is warm and, yes, that's definitely your erratic pulse.

It takes a lot to catch Lockwood off guard, but that does the trick. For a moment, it's like he can't decide whether or not to look at your linked hands or at you, and you laugh at the sight of it.

"This is wholly inappropriate," he jokes. "Doctors and patients shouldn't do anything remotely like this."

You must be out of your mind entirely because you lean over and press a kiss to his knuckles. "What about that?"

The expression on his face reminds you of when the TV signal has gotten busted, and the four-person-army of Lockwood and Co, plus a glowing and crude Skull, are sitting around it angrily waiting for it to stop buffering. When the picture freezes, glitches a little bit, and buffers for even longer. You can almost see the buttons and wires in his mind, struggling to compute what you just did.

That's not to say you aren't the complete same. Truthfully, you shocked yourself with the kiss, and you sit here now, staring at the spot where your lips touched his skin.

You're ill, you remind yourself. Maybe he'll pass it off as delusion.

"Would you mind if I weren't your doctor for a little?"

Frowning a little, confused, you say, "No...?"

You've never seen a person move as fast as Lockwood does then. Before you know it, he's leaning over your entwined hands and his lips are brushing yours so softly, giving you room to move if it's something you don't want. But you do. You want it more than anything.

Everything seems to melt away at the moment you press your lips firmly onto his. The library, the fireplace filled with dancing orange flames, your horrible cold, the sting of anti-septic cream on your fresh cut. You're aware only of his lips on yours, his fingers twisted in yours, the warmth of his hand. Every nerve in your body feels as though it's about to combust. Your heart is practically beating through your chest. God, your hands are awfully sweaty.

Only a moment later, he pulls away, but his face stays so close to yours that you can feel his breath on your cheek.

You want to say something romantic, maybe something smart or snarky like you usually would, but all you can think of is, "You're going to get a cold now."

"It's just as well we have Skull, then, huh?" His laugh is soft and airy, and you could catch it between your lips if you so wished. "I'm sure I'll be fine."

His gaze flickers between your eyes and lips, and you're positive that if he weren't holding your hand right now, you'd implode in a burst of sparks and fireworks.

"Well, if you're so sure -"

Knowing where the sentence is going, he presses his lips to yours once more, and it's perfect.

[kahidlaws]

shoutout to this weibo post for making me come back to this account and be horny again

listen, r1999 has got to be the most out there gacha games in terms of story and character art but they really hit the nail on the head with horropedia when it comes to catering to my tastes in men (nerd, brunette, loser)

cw: gn!reader, mutual masturbation, both are switch but reader is leaning top and horropedia is leaning sub, reader gets horny while listening to joshua mansplain horror movies thats literally the instigator, please use lube not spit when in real life sex

You tried to pay attention. You really did.

The horror movie that he picked up from the confines of his DVD collection was mid at best and absolute dog water at worst. With a 'horropedia' as your boyfriend, you gained a thing or two about criticizing horror movies. You two were barely 10 minutes into the movie when he began his usual spiel towards the cookie-cut introductory characters.

"Ah, despite the obvious modernized times, they're still following the same-old pattern movies back in the 70s did. How droll..."

"Eww what's with this crummy set?! Nightmare on Elm Street had better lighting than this!"

"Dear god, did you hear that?! This script is too cringey even for horror movie standards!"

... Is it possible to get horny just from hearing him complain?

God, even just watching his side profile as he talks is enough to set your heart pumping. You two were sat (well, he was sat) on his abhorrent yellow sofa chair, with you perched on his lap and legs haphazardly strewn across the armrest. No longer were you paying attention to the movie. Instead, your attention was honed in on his face; how the TV's glow made his warm brown eyes shine like stars, how it made a glare on his glasses that he kept pushing up (and it had no right being that hot), how it made his freckles stand out more that you want to kiss a path to form constellations.

Anything that he says after you blacked out is muddied. It was a sign that you had enough.

You leaned in closer to his neck, nosing against the expanse of freckled skin (yes he had freckles everywhere). The action didn't deter him from continuing his tirade and instead he curled his arm around your waist, hand patting your hip. While the gesture was sweet, it didn't help relieve the problem between your legs.

So you went through with your desire to kiss a path of constellations. Starting from the bottom area of his ear down to the crook of his neck. Each kiss left an incredibly cliche smack that you can't help but feel giddy about. It was there that you felt him react to your ministrations. His speech slowly died down as you felt his hand grip the meat of your hip.

You see his Adam's Apple bob up and down and you fought the urge to just bite it. He cleared his throat, the movie no longer at the forefront of his mind. "So this is that trope where the significant other usually instigates sexual intercourse while watching a movie?"

"Are you really gonna do your usual speech towards porn tropes?"

"Hey, I can't help to point out the obvious."

You rolled your eyes, can't believing that this guy was the love of your life. Instead of continuing your kisses, you nibbled right where his clavicle was jutting out from his worn shirt. The gasp he let out was nothing short of euphoric but it was ruined when he started yapping again.

"I must say, this is quite unlike you," he started but he egged you on further by smoothing his hand across the inside of your thighs, "has my usual semantics about horror movies flipped a switch inside you and made you a horndog just like the bimbos in those movies."

"Joshua," you seethed, and you were serious when you used his real name, "keep talking like that and I'm gonna wring you out until you can barely cum."

He gulped but with how his cock twitched beneath his pants betrayed how he would love the idea. "Alright alright, I'll shut up."

And to his credit, he was quiet. When you rucked his shirt upwards and his nipples out to the cold air, you leaned in and kissed one before taking it in your mouth. He keened, back concaving as his hand traveled further inward to your sex. With nimble fingers, he toyed with it above the material of your bottoms before you felt them move faster.

"Oh wow, you really got it bad for me, huh?" He remarked breathlessly, seeing you crumble from the ministrations. "Aren't you a precious little thing, getting off from hearing me talk all day?"

You lightly bit his nipple, relishing in his yelp before moving back up. "Joshua, I swear to god I'm going to leave you high and dry."

"You would never." He snorted. He then took his other hand and tried to shimmy your bottoms down. With your bottom half now out in the open, he raised his hand to your mouth. His lips quirked into a smirk when you let his ring and middle finger inside your mouth, suckling them just like how you did with his nipple. "You love me and my voice too much."

You internally seethed that he was right. Damn him and his stupid voice and his stupid tirade, he has such an immense hold on you that if you did follow through with your promise on leaving him dry, it would be you suffering the most.

"Alright, fine." You conceded after he retrieves his fingers from your mouth, glaring lightly at his smug face. "I love your voice and your stupid spiels. Happy?"

He let out a pleased huff. "I mean, I already knew all along, but it certainly is a boost to the ego when you confirm it for me."

Rolling your eyes, you kissed him fully on the lips for the first time this night. Your hand pinching and rolling his nipple while the other wrapped behind his neck and tugged on his low ponytail. You swallowed in his groan, his tongue swirling against yours. The fingers that you swallowed trailed down to your hole, toying at the entrance before slowly pushing inside.

Swearing, you parted from him, elated at the sight of him reddened and out of breath. You giggled at the trail of spit connecting your mouths before you broke it by leaning forward and kissing the freckles on his face. That was a surefire way of knocking him down a peg; how you show affection to, what he describes as 'An unsightly visual upon his face', his freckles was always your winning card.

You left a final kiss on his nose before leaning back. "I really do want to see you broken and crying, Joshua."

He moaned lightly, leaning down to your neck to hide his reddening face as his fingers curled inward. The moan you let out was pornographic but Joshua didn't point it out, clearly far gone into his pleasures. He mouthed along your neck. "Yeah? I'd be a liar if I said I didn't want to see you try your best."

You scoffed, gently prying his head away from your neck and staring straight into his eyes. Something hot curled inside you when you see how shiny his eyes became. "Keep talking and I'll make sure that you'll keep cumming until morning."

He whimpered at your words, his fingers faltering in pleasuring you. You cooed. "What's wrong, baby? Can't keep your mouth open for me?"

He shifted in his seat. During the whole time, you never removed his cock underneath his pants. The sizeable tent already sporting a dark patch. "N-No... I can do it."

"Good boy." You purred and you giggled at how he shivered at the praise. The hand on his chest moved down to his pajama bottoms, tugging them down as best as you could. He lifted himself from his seat, groaning in pain and relief at how his cock finally sprung free from his clothes as he threw his pants in a random corner of the room.

Joshua was always pretty. It was a shame everyone thinks he's 'unconventional' because he was such a chatterbox when him never shutting up was the most attractive thing ever. Screw them then, you think, as you stared reverently at his cock. It throbbed painfully against his stomach, the head flushed a pretty red just like his face as it curved slightly to the left. It was so perfect for you that you can't help but thank whatever deity made you meet Joshua.

"My pretty boy..." You breathed out. "Remember our deal, okay?"

He nodded wordlessly. Immediately, you wrapped your hand around his head, spreading the precum as your hand glides across his shaft. He let out a drawn-out moan, tilting his head back against the sofa chair as his fingers pumped in and out of your hole.

"F-Fuuuuck..." He keened, eyes glossed over with unshed tears. "Feels so good. The way you wrap your hand around me just right-ah!"

He jumped slightly when your other hand tugged his ponytail roughly, showing the expanse of his neck. You bit his Adam's Apple and you squeezed his fingers when you hear him cry out in pleasure. "Keep talking."

"Love how you mark me up...!" He continued. "Love how you make me yours. Love how you tease the h-ah, head of my cock before you rub it. Love how you twist your hand just right...!"

You let go of his skin after you fully blemished it red and stinging. "Yeah? You love it when I treat you like this, huh?"

He nodded against his hold. Your hand was already easily moving up and down his cock, making it easier for you to twist your wrist and quicken your pace. He bucked his hips upward, legs twitching from the stimulation. Of course, he made sure that you weren't the only one giving. He curled his fingers inwards, making you gasp out loud as his other hand inched down towards your most sensitive area.

"Mhm." He hummed, watching at how your back arced beautifully when he played with your most sensitive part. "Love how you react so prettily when I touch you like this. Almost like you were built for me-built for me to break and use over and over."

"Fuck, Joshua." You breathlessly giggled, letting go of his ponytail. "Wasn't expecting this out of you."

He chuckled softly, lightly bumping his forehead against yours. His glasses were completely askew across his nose bridge so you adjusted them for him. His eyes were unabashed in their affection, shining like twin diamonds. It was almost sickening how he looks at your with such hazily romantic reverence.

He smiled softly. "Love you."

You swallowed the lump forming in your throat before you pecked his lips. "Love you, too."

He hummed happily. "Love how you love me. Like I'm someone worth loving. Love it when you love me like this."

His speech was getting repetitive. His fingers going in and out of your hole at a faster rate as squelching noises permeated the room. Your hand squeezed his cock tighter, pumping up and down, begging for his cum to run down your hand so you can lick it all off.

"Fuck," he gasped out, mouth open as let out his grunts, "love you so much. Love you love you love you—"

"Give it to me, Joshua." You said, legs twitching at how fast he's playing with your sex. "Let go, pretty baby. I've got you."

He cried out, bucking his hips to meet your hand as you watched his cock spurt cum. "Fuck fuck fuck, oh god, I-hah!"

As his orgasm racked his body, you watched as he loses himself. The fingers inside you curled the right way before you came. His other hand toyed with your sex further until you cried out from the overstimulation. His cock shot his seed upwards, hitting you and Joshua. Some of it got onto Joshua's cheek so you leaned in and licked them off of him.

Heavy breathing was all that was heard in the room as you two cooled down from the session. After you cleaned his cheek, you laid down on his still-heaving chest. He leaned his on top of your head, arms wrapping around you and bringing you impossibly closer.

He breathed in and out, letting out chuckles underneath his breath. "So, you really like how I talk, eh?"

You groaned, burrowing your face further into his chest. "Don't remind me."

"You know I'm gonna never live it down, right?" He gloated, kissing the top of your head. "What a glorious feeling. To have my honey be so smitten with my voice."

"Dear god, what have I done."

He barked out a laugh, nuzzling you closer. He decided to stop for now, but he'll remember this moment whenever he hosts a horror movie review again.

Maybe being a chatterbox led to good things after all.

[flys-writing-drabbles]

ignore this...... (tw suggestive. P. PROBABLY VERY SUGGESTIVE)

Harry could hardly think. Between the ringing emanating from his head, his fans whirring noisily in tandem, and Moon’s hands working at his cord, his mind was more likely mush than anything worth using. A particularly hard tug to the wire connected to his head drew a shameful whine from his speaker.

His hand flinched, almost as if it was moving to muffle his sounds, before Moon clicked xis tongue. Of course xe would notice that. Why wouldn’t xe? Another whine snuck from him.

“My dear, please. Th- This is embarrassin- NHh..” His voice broke off into a trill whimper as xe continued to toy with his cord, rubbing xis fingers between the coils, pinching at certain points. It’s like xe was trying to debase Harry as fast as possible. Maybe xe was. Xe stopped.

“Are you okay? I don’t know if that’s what you meant, but are you comfortable? Everything fine?” Moon sounded so worried. It made Harry’s heart flutter. He did have to verbalize what he actually meant, however. Not that hard, surely.

“N- No, Moon, you’re fine. Still getting used to this is all. I- I wanted to ask if I could maybe cover my speaker? I’m being quite loud..” Moon instantly lit up again. That was a good sign. He couldn’t help the laugh that left him.

“Oh! Of course, hun! Whatever makes you more comfortable! I don’t want you to feel too exposed or anything, do whatever you need. Sorry if I originally seemed a bit controlling.” Xe shyed away a bit, xis hand having lowered from his cord. He had to resist the urge to guide it back himself. Instead choosing to bask in how sweet Moon was.

“Thank you, darling. That.. means a lot to me. You can, however, continue with what you were doing if you’d like. I found it pleasant..” With xis former confidence restored, Moon nodded and entangled xis hand with the spanse of wire once more. Harry tensed up again, his hand covering his speaker.

“A- Actually.. Can I, uh, Can I put this in my mouth? Maybe?” Xe tugged on his cord as xe spoke, a slight flush on xis face and xis tone uncertain. Was xe trying to fluster him?

“Yesyesyes, that’s fine, dear. Just be careful-” His words caught in his throat as Moon wrapped xis lips around the wire, xe was careful about it but the cord did brush past xis teeth a few times. Harry was finding it hard to breathe.

“Oh.. Ah, a- ah..” Harry squirmed underneath xem, panting between the loud ringing of his head and the steady whirring of his fans. A smug grin was written on Moon’s face, the rampant blue blush on xis cheeks not matching with it at all.

Still, xe continued to mouth on the cord. Flicking the coils with xis tongue, even sucking at certain intervals. The sounds coming from Harry definitely weren’t anything he was proud of. He was glad xe had let him cover his speaker by now. The pitiful moans escaping him were definitely audible, but muffled. Which gave him some room to keep his dignity in check.

Then xe bit down. Not hard enough to damage the wire, obviously, but just hard enough to get a reaction. And, oh boy, was that reaction worth it. Harry utterly gasped at the sensation, back arching off the chair he was seated on and chest pressing into Moon’s. He was gripping onto the armrest of the seat like his life depended on it, knuckles turning white.

“Nhh.. M- Moon.. Moon, please-” He had no clue what he was begging for, honestly. Just letting words leave his mouth. Xe did seem to get what he was trying to convey, however. Another bite to his cord.

“HAh-” His hand left his speaker, grabbing onto Moon’s wrist to steady himself instead. He looked up at xem, optics landing on an almost perfect scene. Xis lips were slightly parted, canines carefully slotted around his wire, xis face was flushed a deep blue, a gentle glow accompanying it. Judging by the way xis eyebrows were furrowed, xe was rather affected by Harry’s little display xemself.

Harry’s hand unfurled from xis wrist, moving up to gently pull his cord out of xis mouth. Moon dropped the wire with little resistance, lips hanging open to let out small pants as xe continued to stare down at the man beneath xem. Harry cupped xis face.

“There you are, my dear.. Look at you..” He brushed his thumb on xis bottom lip, earning a whine from the other. It was so easy to flip positions with these two.

“So pretty.. My precious Moon..” It was honestly shocking how xe managed to go from confident and teasing to flushed and embarrassed within seconds. Harry didn’t find himself complaining however as he ran his fingers down xis back, stopping at the base of xis tail. That recieved a stuttery gasp from the one in his lap. Huh.

“Oh? What’s with that reaction?” He began to lightly stroke that same area, Moon’s tail twitching in his hand. He was rewarded with a few whimpers and whines from the other, all muffled by the hand xe was now holding over xis mouth.

“Hnn.. Harry..” A small laugh left Harry. How could someone be this adorable? He had no clue, really.

“Hm? Yes, dear?” Moon’s head had dropped onto his shoulder, he could feel how warm xis face was. He tugged on xis tail.

“HNG-” Xe gasped out, gripping onto Harry’s suit jacket, almost with all xis force. Xis face remained buried in his neck, xis breath hot against his skin. All he could hear from xem was occasional pants.

Well, they were going to be here a while, hm?

(@ask-harry-fitzgerald H. HIIIIIIII........ i got freaky im so sorry )

[alastors-airwaves]

The crowd’s excitement surges as the colossal screen in the Dome switches from Angel Dust’s victorious image to the next combatants: Princess Charlie Morningstar and the Overlord Vox. Anticipation swells; this match is not only for pride but for ultimate power and control. The stakes are monumental, and the atmosphere in the Dome turns tense as demons realize the magnitude of this fight.

Alastor’s voice cuts through the buzzing energy of the arena, guiding the audience’s focus.

Alastor: *with smooth enthusiasm* And now, demons far and wide, we arrive at the crown jewel of the day! The duel that could shift the very hierarchy of Hell! In one corner, we have the radiant—yet ruthlessly determined—Princess of Hell, Charlie Morningstar! And in the other, the infamous (and low life) TV Demon, Vox. *chuckles* Will our dear princess preserve her family’s legacy, or will Vox seize it all?

The camera pans to Lucifer, seated with heavy eyes in a throne-like chair overlooking the match, visibly drained and anxious. His hands grip the armrests, worry etched deeply across his face, a rare sight from Hell’s king.

With a blast of sound, the announcer’s voice rings out across the arena, setting the stakes for everyone in attendance.

Announcer: For this ultimate duel, if Princess Charlie Morningstar is victorious, Vox shall lose his Overlord status, stripped of power, and be bound to the Morningstar family’s authority. However, should Vox prevail, he gains not only Lucifer Morningstar as his rightful mate but also the pack of Omegas Charlie has formed—and she will forfeit her right as Hell’s Heir.

Charlie enters the arena, her usual warm demeanor replaced with steely determination. Her demonic form flickers beneath her skin, and she carries her shield and pitchfork, radiating an aura of otherworldly power. She glances toward her father, giving him a reassuring nod before focusing her gaze on Vox.

Vox appears in a storm of static, his face flashing in electric pixels before it solidifies into a grin. His bioluminescent glow pulses, casting eerie light across the battlefield as he surveys his opponent, every fiber of his being radiating confidence and arrogance.

Carmilla steps forward as the officiant, raising her hand for silence.

Carmilla: The rules are clear. This duel will end only when one of you is incapacitated, surrenders, or I call it to a close. Prepare yourselves!

With a dramatic drop of her hand, the fight begins.

Vox wastes no time; he vanishes into a burst of static, reappearing directly behind Charlie with his hand outstretched, emitting a blinding pulse of electric energy. Charlie rolls to the side, dodging as sparks fly, but Vox’s form flickers again as he splits into multiple copies, surrounding her from all sides.

Alastor: *commentating* Ah, Vox’s self-replication in action! Charlie will need all her wits—and her speed—to match the elusive TV Demon.

Charlie’s eyes narrow, and she conjures a ring of fire around her, forcing Vox’s copies to step back. With a flick of her wrist, her flames surge outward, dissipating some of his replicas in a wave of searing heat. She strikes with her pitchfork, catching the closest copy and impaling it, only for it to burst into static.

Vox’s true form reappears above her, his hand charged with electricity, sending a crackling bolt down toward Charlie. She deflects it with her shield, the impact reverberating through the arena.

Charlie: *through gritted teeth* You won’t get my father, or my pack!

Vox laughs, his voice a mechanical hum that echoes through the Dome.

Vox: Oh, I think you’re wrong, Princess. Hell doesn’t need a bleeding heart like yours at the top. Your father’s already halfway mine!

Lucifer stirs slightly at this, his eyes dim but pained. He clenches his fists, his helplessness evident as he watches his daughter fight.

Charlie charges at Vox, her pitchfork engulfed in flames. She swipes at him, landing a hit that scorches his side, forcing him to stagger. Vox grimaces, his form momentarily flickering. With a flash of anger, he unleashes a surge of acoustokinetic energy, sending a wave of sound that rattles through Charlie’s bones and forces her back.

Alastor: Vox is turning up the heat! But Charlie won’t go down so easily—she’s the Princess of Hell, after all!

Despite the attack, Charlie holds her ground, her form flickering as her demonic transformation begins to take hold. Her horns elongate, and her eyes burn with fiery intensity. With a mighty swing of her pitchfork, she breaks through Vox’s technopathic field, sending him sprawling.

But Vox smirks, barely phased as he summons a stream of electricity, wrapping it around Charlie’s arms and immobilizing her. Charlie grits her teeth, fighting against the restraints as she calls forth a powerful flame, shattering the electric bindings with an explosion of fire.

Charlie lunges, bringing her shield up as she closes the distance. She swings her pitchfork, catching Vox off guard and driving him back with a powerful blow. For the first time, Vox looks shaken as he stumbles, his grip on his powers slipping.

Alastor: *with mounting excitement* There it is! Our princess isn’t just fighting for her title—she’s fighting for her family, her pack, and all of Hell! Will she finally show Vox the consequences of underestimating a Morningstar?

The arena holds its breath as Charlie, fueled by her love for her family and Hell, summons a final surge of demonic power. Her flames blaze brighter, forming a protective aura around her as she advances on Vox, his form now visibly flickering with weakened static.

Charlie: *voice steady and fierce* Hell will never bow to you, Vox. Not now, not ever.

With one final, powerful strike, she slams her pitchfork into the ground, sending a fiery shockwave that engulfs Vox, breaking his defenses and scattering his form in a burst of static.

As the smoke clears, Carmilla steps forward, her voice ringing out over the stunned silence of the crowd.

Carmilla: The winner… and rightful Princess of Hell… Charlie Morningstar!

The Dome erupts in thunderous applause, demons chanting Charlie’s name as she stands, triumphant, in the center of the arena. Vox lies defeated, his Overlord status stripped, his power vanquished, and his ambitions crushed.

Alastor’s voice fills the broadcast with satisfaction.

Alastor: *with a dark smile* And so, order is restored! Charlie Morningstar has shown all of Hell that power isn’t just strength—it’s family, loyalty, and heart. Vox, I hope you enjoy the taste of humble pie.

Charlie raises her head, eyes fierce with victory, as she glances up to her father. Lucifer’s gaze softens, a proud smile crossing his face as he nods in approval, knowing his daughter has secured their family’s legacy and the safety of those she loves.

[nerdherderette]

WIP Wednesday

Tagged by the lovely @dear-massacre. It's been a while since I've done this, mostly because I've been doing anon fests for the past two years, but I'm excited to have something to share! It's a snippet from my Regency Historical FTH 2023 ( 😬) fic for @elisela (first chapter goes up next week):

Despite his irritation, a small smile broke across Derek's face. He would always have a soft spot for his baby sister. "While the rest of the incomparables are busy choosing their gowns for the next season, Cora prefers to spend her time at Manton's shooting gallery on Davis. She has it in her head that she wants to join the Royal Navy in its efforts against Napoleon." Derek shook his head. "She is so young, however. Too much so." "Even the smallest wolf has claws and fangs." "And she is, unfortunately, of a single mind. Which is why she doesn't mind throwing me to the wolves if it serves her purpose. I have no doubt Cora would relish having me steal our parents' attention and disapproval should I return." "Surely there are some things from home you miss." Jordan's eyes widened, and he grinned smugly. "What was that look? I'm right, aren't I?" "It's…" Derek turned away from Jordan's expectant gaze. He wasn't sure why he had thought of Stiles just then. He hadn't seen the boy since Laura's wedding. Constable Stilinski's son must have been sixteen—perhaps seventeen, at the most—and the movement of his limbs could not seem to catch up with his sudden growth spurt. "I was thinking about someone who lived near my aunt. He was exceptionally bright, if a bit odd. He was closer to Cora's age, although he seemed to enjoy my company." A wave of guilt flooded Derek as he remembered receiving Stiles' letter. He had not been in a good place at the time, and after reading the excited, hopeful words of a mere child, had thrown it away without responding. "I haven't seen him in years. It is for the best; any bit of hero worship he still may have held for me would surely have been destroyed by this point." "You say your family disapproves of your choices. Yet they all wish you home. I think the only person who can't forgive you for your mistakes is yourself." Derek gripped the armrest of his chair. Jordan was one of the few people in his life who knew the story. Unfortunately, his own family did as well. "There are some mistakes one can't return from."

Tagging @magpiefngrl @sugareey-makes-stuff @wolfspurr @pkrosche @lqtraintracks @brightowl-fics @dragonflies-draw-flame @rosieposiepuddingnpie @greyhavenisback @halehathnofury (only if you want to!❤️)

[guzmapkmn-archive]

bring me back to life

ও word count: 1,953

ও relationship(s): pre cirrus/guzma

ও warnings: brief implied self harm and violence, blood

ও summary: cirrus takes care of guzma after the disaster that is the iki town festival tournament.

ও notes: fun fact I started this last september. everyone is so proud of me and my ability to finish writing fics in a timely manner <3

ok to rb!!

Tonight was the festival - the "Full Force Festival'' as people called it. A stupid name, in Cirrus's opinion, but to be honest, it didn't care enough about it to poke fun. 

After the news of the beachfront grunts' defeat, Guzma was in a worse mood than usual. He had gripped the armrests of his chair so hard his knuckles turned white, and Cirrus worried the stuffing would pop out. "Hey." It patted Guzma's arm in an attempt to be reassuring. "Don't worry, Guz. The Slowpoke tail stall is getting set up now. There's no way that kid'll get away."

That seemed to be the wrong thing to say, as Guzma slammed his fist into the chair, mouth twisted in seething anger. "A fuckin' kid, C," he groaned. "Wasn't even me that got beat and I feel like I can't show my face. Who the fuck does he think he is?"

"Well, he won't be anything once he gets beat."

This seemed to placate Guzma, as he sat back with his chin in his hand. "Yeah. You're right. He won't be, not after I'm done with him," he said thoughtfully.

The plan was all set up, with A, as he dubbed himself, taking part in the competition for something-or-other, and a group of other grunts manning a popup food stall just in case. But… the beachfront grunts were strong, and according to them, the kid had beat them like it was nothing. Cirrus was reluctant to voice its concerns out loud, but for everyone's sake, it wanted to be 200% sure of their success.

"Why don't I head down there, just to keep an eye on things? Not that I think there will be any problems," (it did), "but, ya know. Just in case. Couldn't hurt," Cirrus suggested.

"No," Guzma said after a beat of silence, hopping to his feet. "You stay here. I'm goin' to crush that kid. Won't even take a minute. I'll be back before ya know it."

"Oh," Cirrus said. It was honestly surprised that Guzma hadn't ordered it or Plumeria to go help out earlier. Leaving something this important in the hands of a bunch of grunts wasn't always the best idea, but Guzma rarely got so directly involved. This must have been bothering him more than he let on, to decide to go to the festival himself. "Uh, okay. Are you sure? It'd be no trouble for me-"

"You can't always count on other people to do your dirty work for ya. I need to destroy him myself. Make sure it's done right." 

He left before Cirrus could say anything further, leaving it alone in his room.

"Ugh. Typical," it grumbled, flopping down in Guzma's chair and swinging its legs over the side. As much as it didn't want to go to the festival, being left alone while everyone else was there, even for business, was even worse. It just hoped Guzma wouldn't do anything stupid.

~~~~~~~

The next thing Cirrus heard was a frantic clamor coming from the downstairs of the mansion, a cacophony of shouting and yelling that awoke it from its accidental slumber. Shaking its head in an attempt to dislodge the sleep that still clung to its eyes, it was about to make its way to the door, but was interrupted by a grunt swinging open with enough force to make it jump. Well, this is definitely Not Good.

The grunt wrung her hands, shifting her weight from food to foot nervously. “C-Cirrus!!” she wailed upon spotting it, looking as if she might burst into tears at any second. Oh dear. “Hey, hey, take a breath, alright?” Cirrus stumbled down the stairs and across the room, gently ushering the grunt out of the room. All of the remaining fatigue had faded with the commotion, and was now replaced with worry. “What happened?” it asked once they were outside.

"I… Th-the boss is hurt, and…!" 

Wait… Guzma was hurt? It was just supposed to be a battle tournament, right? And he wasn’t even the one competing…

"Where is he?"

"Downstairs, A just brought him in, but… but…” she trailed off, and Cirrus pressed its lips together.

“Shit. Okay. Thank you.” Cirrus hated to leave her here when she was upset, and reached out to squeeze her shoulder in what it hoped was a reassuring gesture before running down the stairs.

~~~~~~~

The ruckus downstairs had mostly quieted down as Cirrus arrived, save for A and Guzma loudly arguing. A’s mouth snapped shut once he noticed Cirrus, staring at it from over Guzma’s shoulder, with the taller man following suit, turning around to give Cirrus a clear look at the blood dripping from his forehead and the bent and smashed sunglasses in his clenched fist.

The worry that had been welling in Cirrus’s chest bloomed into anxiety as it took in the scene in front of it, with Guzma refusing to look it in the eyes, and the way the dim light in the mansion reflected off the shards of glass from the shattered sunglasses that were embedded in his forehead, and the blood dyeing the tips of his bangs red. If only it had pushed harder for Guzma to let it go instead… this wouldn't be happening.

“Guzma,” it said quietly, waiting until said man crossed his arms and began stomping his way towards it to head towards the bathroom upstairs.

Cirrus sighed as it shut the door behind them, frustrated, worried, exhausted… “I’m not even going to ask.”

“Good,” Guzma spat out, waving away Cirrus’s hands as it attempted to help him onto the counter.

A scowl had crept its way up Guzma's face in the few seconds it took Cirrus to grab the first aid kit from under the sink, with an angry crease forming on his brow.

"Hey. Quit it with the grumpy face, you're making my job a lot harder."

Guzma huffed, but smoothed out his scowl, allowing Cirrus to tilt his head up and carefully pick out the remaining shards of glass from his wound. It worked in silence, only uttering a quiet sorry when Guzma flinched back, hissing through his teeth.

The room was thick with a palpable tension that Cirrus tried hard to ignore as it dabbed at the now dry blood that had dripped down Guzma's face. It knew how destructive Guzma got when he was angry - had seen the aftermath of his rage firsthand - but he had never done anything like this to himself. At least, not that Cirrus knew of.

Something was up, something had happened, but Cirrus didn't want to pry, especially so soon. Besides, the chance of Guzma opening up so easily was slim to none.

Resisting the urge to sigh again, Cirrus took the gauze and bandages it had set aside and pressed them to the wound, making sure they wouldn't fall off the second it let go. "There we go," it said, brushing Guzma's hair back over his forehead, "good as new!"

"Thanks…" Guzma muttered, tugging at his bangs. With the admittedly amateur doctoring complete, Cirrus was able to take a step back to truly take in the other man's disheveled state, with his shoulders drooping and the bags under his eyes darker than normal.

"Guz… Maybe you should get some rest, yeah?" Cirrus suggested. It didn't know when the last time he slept properly was, but it couldn't have been recently. "'M fine." Guzma rubbed at his eyes almost aggressively, as if trying to clear the obvious heaviness from them. "'Sides, I didn't get the chance to heal Golisopod or Masquerain after the battle, 'n I gotta do that first." He had grimaced for a brief moment at the mention of the festival, but broke out into a yawn.

"I can do that. You look dead on your feet. Go to bed."

"I toldja I'm fine-"

"I'll go take care of them. You go take care of yourself," Cirrus said firmly, leaving no room for arguing. It held out its hand expectantly, raising its eyebrows when Guzma crossed his arms. "Fine," he said, reaching in his pocket for the pokéballs and placing them in Cirrus's outstretched hand. "Thank you. Now go rest," it stressed. "Or I swear to Arceus I will drag you to your bed myself."

"Yeah, yeah," Guzma waved Cirrus off but slid off the counter, stopping once he reached the door. "...thanks," he said in an uncharacteristically soft voice. "For helpin' me out. I… really appreciate you." 

A dark blush crept its way up Cirrus's face and Butterfree fluttered violently in its stomach at Guzma's words. "Shit," it choked out once Guzma left, trying to drown out the pounding of its heart. I appreciate you. He didn’t just appreciate the action, he appreciated Cirrus. It clenched the pokéballs in its hands and took a deep breath before heading outside.

“That’s a normal thing to say to someone when they help you, right? I’m… just thinking too hard about it. That’s a perfectly normal thing to say,” it said to itself as it made its way down the winding staircase. The eerie silence from inside the now-abandoned Shady House followed Cirrus out to the yard, making it shiver. 

Cirrus let Golisopod and Masquerain out of their pokéballs, and stayed quiet as it sprayed the Pokémon with potions. The harder it tried to not think about what Guzma had said to it, the more it ended up thinking about it. A frustrated groan escaped its lips and it threw the empty potion bottle to the side, a bit harder than it planned. Golisopod gave it a look, then busied itself with Cirrus's bag, poking at it with his claws. "Ugh, I'll pick it up in a minute - hey, what do you think you're doing?"

Golisopod continued to nudge at the bag even when Cirrus took it from him. "Oh, you smell the poké beans, don'tcha? Well, y'all're in luck - I got the good stuff." It pulled out a rainbow bean from its bag, which was promptly snatched and devoured by Golisopod the second it was in view. "Hey now!" Cirrus raised its eyebrows at him. "I know you're Guzma's Pokémon, but use your manners!" A pause. "Don't tell him I said that."

Gentle moonlight shone down within the walls of Po Town, seeming to have a calming effect on the run-down city. The emptiness usually scared Cirrus, it didn't enjoy being out there after dark, but that night it looked almost pretty, in a strange sort of way.

Cirrus handed another bean to Golisopod, who took it much more delicately this time.

"Ooh, such a good boy!!" Cirrus cooed, reaching up to scratch Golispod under the chin, laughing as he trilled contentedly.

Masquerain started buzzing angrily around Cirrus's head, clearly jealous of the attention it was giving Golisopod. "Oh, don't worry, I haven't forgotten about you!" It pet her head and fished another poké bean out from its bag, then sat cross legged on the grass, watching Masquerain perch upon Golisopod's head with the treat.

"Y'all fought hard for the boss today, huh?" Cirrus tugged at the grass absently, a small frown on its face.

"I just wish he wasn't so hard on himself…"

It flopped onto its back, staring up at the clear sky and letting the calm air wash away all its worries from the events that had transpired that night. Guzma's earlier words echoed in its ears - I really appreciate you - and it groaned loudly, covering its face with its hands as a hot flush began creeping its way up its face.

If only it was brave enough to tell Guzma… it felt the same way. If he only knew just how deeply Cirrus's appreciation, admiration, adoration, ran.

~~~~~~~

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[schmedterlingfreud]

Better late than never, finally Luca had his cinema release even here in Italy! 25th of April, a National Holiday. This makes perfect sense, right? I wonder if that was a marketing strategy or something like this. No school, no work? Come to the movies, Italian people!

I booked my ticket online. Ticket for one, please.

This is my first all alone cinema experience. In truth, my brother offered to come with me, but I denied. I have nobody else (friends, relatives) to ask for, but I think I would have come by myself regardless. I wanted to be alone with my emotions only, like I was always been while watching the movie alone, in my home, thousands and thousands of times. Or, this is what I believed.

The day before I had my night shift at work. Came home at 6 am, after being excited all night thinking about this experience. I'm very tired, so I try to sleep a little bit. I don't want to be exhausted, I want to enjoy myself, and I set my alarm clock just in case. When I woke up I don't bother myself for breakfast/lunch. My stomach is knotted in twists, and popcorn for brunch sounds nice.

It's a gray and chilling April day. A perfect weather for a cinema date, even if I was hoping for a little bit of sun.

Anyway, I immediately buy myself my favourite popcorn: toffee flavour. :)

This place is nearly desert. Just the two guys collecting tickets, one of them behind the snack bar, and few families, or just father and son. What kind of movie are they gonna watch? Luca? Godzilla? Kung Fu Panda?

I try to entertain myself with this kind of questions, slowly nibbling my popcorn, because my heart is beating faster and faster, my belly hurts and my legs are beginning to shake. My head is heavy, like filled with water. My eyes blurred for a certain kind of sadness.

I wonder how this experience would have been if I wasn't alone. It would have been nice to have a friend to share this joy and happiness with. A friend to laugh with, to cry with, or just to enjoy the moment, this little and meaningful sparkle of life.

I think about this singular situation: going all by myself to watch a movie that talks about the gift of friendship.

In the cinema hall I'm not alone but there are very few people. Ten or less people?

It's 2 pm, nobody go to the movies so soon, so our room is small. I think it's better this way. It will be just like at home, intimate, quiet, but with a bigger screen and a better sound. And with my popcorn bowl :)

I chose the last line of chairs to not have someone behind me. Maybe I'm gonna sob a little, and I don't want to embarrass myself. Fortunately, nobody seems to care about a single little girl sitting all alone during a family movie. That's cool, I think.

Every time a movie trailer ends and there's that little black space before the next one, my heart skips a bit and my hands grip the armrests. I'm sweating cold.

"Ohmygodohmygod, that's it, is it time? Another commercial? Is the movie starting?"

And finally it starts.

At the beginning, I was already sobbing. A drunk smile printed on my burning lips. I was waiting for this moment for months, or even for years, from the very first summer when the movie aired on streaming only.

During the introduction scene, underwater, in the fish village, the background music stabs my chest and pierces my poor little heart, opening a window to the first time I've heard it. Memories about that happy and lonely summer, so dear to me.

I still think about that surreal summer of 2021, about that sweet and burning feeling of love, melancholy and sadness this movie gifted to me.

After that, things went downhill for me. What followed was in fact the worst period of my life. I think about how Luca was one of the little joys that remained close to me. The friend I didn't have. An hour and a half to feel less alone, to find a place where I could pretend my problems didn't exist. I think back to the deep feeling of nostalgia I used to experience every single time, returning in Portorosso. The happiness of a place and a time where everything is simpler, just like a world imagined by a child. Many criticized Luca for being a "too simple" movie, yet it has always been that simplicity that comforted and moved me, that gave me a peace of mind that I thought I couldn't find on my own, and I will always be grateful for that.

Luca is a movie about friendship and inner growth, of that troubled time between childhood and coming of age where you have to choose your path, your own way of life.

For many of us, childhood is a time remembered with sweetness and nostalgia. I'm not sure if this is the case for me. Too shy, too quiet, too introverted… even as a child I struggled to make friends and be among them. I've never found a place, or a group of people, to belong to.

Maybe this is the reason why this movie touches me deeply. It gives me back something, a connection, that I have never had and that perhaps I am still looking for, despite having resigned myself to my loneliness. I'm still alone on my tower, I guess.

When I exit the movie theater, it's not so cold anymore. A chilling wind is still blowing from the mountains, but clouds are thin, and a surprisingly hot sun is smiling at this spring afternoon.

I don't immediately jump in my car, even if I have to go the supermarket for my grocery shopping. I wait, I sit on the steps, I lick my lips indulging in that sweet caramel popcorn taste, and I think. I think about my life, my past battles, what the future is holding for me. I fear this question, I fear my solitude, I fear myself, my insecurities, and all that hard paths I will have to cross all by myself because, deep down, I know I will be alone.

In my adult life, I wonder if I still have the right to hope or to wish for something or someone.

To hope for a friend, someone to make me feel important or special, or simply to share a hug with after a bad day. "I'm here for you, no matter what. You don't have to stay hidden in your tower of solitude anymore."

I have no idea what life will hold for me from now on, but I know that Portorosso will be there for me. And I won't be so alone anymore.

... thank you for reading. :)

Remember to take care of yourself, always. 💙

[abronzeagegod]

Untitled YA Novel Chapter 12: Infiltrate the Oceanic Institute for Victory

First Chapter || More

11:45 AM local time

Outside the Oceanic Science Institute, Miami, Biscayne, United States of America

Justin tried to adjust the satellite image slightly, and found that it wasn't nearly as difficult or as scary as Mister Collins made it seem. He watched the few little dots labeled as the team flying across rooftops towards the institute.

"Tell them to hold on a second," Justin said as he watched the real-time image of the street. "There's a bus at a stop down the street, they should probably wait until it's passed."

Hira relayed the information and the little dots on the satellite feed stopped moving. Once the bus had resumed its route and passed by, they moved again as Hira navigated them to the closest building to the Institute.

From there, Alt took control of the team and directed them into the grounds. Justin watched the five tiny dots move towards the building and stop outside, presumably at a door.

"Nothing on the scanners about us yet," Mike relayed.

"Good," Alt responded. "Beginning our sweep."

There was a few moments of quiet except for the standard room noises and the beeps from Justin's device. It was interrupted by a message from Mister Collins.

"Mike, remember how we got Justin?"

"Yeah..."

"I'm going to need you to do that for me. The police want to escort me to the station to find my family," the former history teacher said.

"I think this is why Alt wanted subtle," Hira muttered off mic.

Mike puffed out his chest a little. "I have my learner's permit. I got this."

"I'd put my seat belt on," Justin muttered to Hira as he buckled himself into the chair while Mike climbed into the front of the van.

"Here we come!" Mike turned the engine over, and the van rumbled to life.

Justin gripped the armrest tightly and tried to focus on teh task at hand with the infiltration team.

Mike, like Mister Collins, had no sense of subtlety and the van lurched and rocked as he backed up too fast and then switched to drive with reckless speed.

"Those signs are meant to be stopped at, I believe," Hira called from the back of the van to Mike.

"Those are just suggestions," he responded as he turned the wheel and the whole van maneuvered poorly into the alleyway. A few seconds later he slammed on the breaks bringing the van to a screeching and sudden stop.

"This is why he doesn't have a license," Justin said as he checked the area under the seat belt for signs of bruising.

"He has his permit he said," Hira said back.

"Learner's permit," Justin responded. "That means he's only supposed to drive under supervision and really shouldn't be doing what he's doing."

"By the sun," Hira groaned. "Please don't let him drive again."

Mister Collins, somehow, managed to slip into the alleyway and jump into the passenger side of the van with surprising dexterity.

"Young man, kindly gun it," Mister Collins said as he buckled up.

"Yes sir!" Mike said with glee, and the two in the back groaned while they held on for dear life.

Mike followed Mister Collins' directions and stopped just outside the Oceanic Sciences Institute.

Hira focused on the feeds from the infiltration team and tried to keep the dizziness and nausea from the illegal car ride at bay. She found focusing on something solid was good for her stomach.

"Something seems off," Hira muttered. "Alt, check in please."

Justin looked over his own instruments. There was no movement on the satellite feed, except for Mike's insane driving. That was when he noticed that there was no movement at all on his improvised sound device.

"Alt, please respond," Hira said again, louder, more forceful.

"They've crossed into a Silence Aura," Justin said. "Which might be good, since we know we're in the right place."

Hira hummed to herself. There was something off and she couldn't quite put her finger on why. "I don't like this," she said.

"I don't like this either."

Mister Collins climbed into the backseat to look over everything with them. He agreed with Hira's assessment. "There's something going on, and we can't communicate. This is a dangerous enemy we are dealing with."

Justin suddenly noticed movement on the satellite feed. "We have movement by the docks," he announced. "There are people moving towards the boats. It looks like they are carrying something."

Mister Collins let out a small sigh. "We have a team in the building, which is a very big place. We can't communicate with them, so we can't tell them what we know. We also can't tell if they have come under attack or ambush. I don't see another solution."

"Another solution?" Hira asked.

"You have to go in," Mister Collins said with the calm confidence of a man with no other options. "I have to emphasize this, please understand me. Do not engage the Silence. Don't get close. Don't fight them. Just try to find Alt and the team. Are we clear?"

"Yes sir," they all said.

"Good. We need a way to communicate. I assume like good young ones you all have your phones on you?" Mister Collins asked. When everyone nodded, he continued, "Ok, good. We need to have a group text chat. We can't rely on the radios or phone calls."

They exchanged phone numbers, and grabbed some of the extra equipment that the team brought with them. Hira and Mike took an extra baton thing each, and Justin grabbed one of the tasers.

"Group chat," Mike texted out to get the thing started.

“Ok, go in,” Mister Collins said, “and only find Alt. Don’t do anything else.”

“You’re not coming with?” Justin asked.

“I’m an old man, what do you want from me?” Mister Collins asked with a sly smile. “But no. I can’t. The first rule of any of these operations is that the second you lose someone on the outside running ops, you’ve officially botched the entire operation.”

“Really?” Mike asked.

“Absolutely,” Mister Collins answered. “I’ll give you all the rundown on being spies, later, but now you have to go in there and find Alt.”

The group nodded.

“Be safe, but you’re young I know you’re not going to listen to me,” Mister Collins yelled after them.

The three teens ran off, closing the van door behind them.

Then added quietly to himself, "God, I’m old.”

i have a kofi

find me on pillowfort

[lena-in-a-red-dress]

Seeing the sun turn red is enough to make Lena's senses blur. She's alone in Lex's office, and knows she has only seconds to try and disable it. Her fingers fly across the keyboard, even as her thoughts flare outwards, sifting through any and every possible means he could have used to do it-- a satellite? Some kind of refractive gas released into the atmosphere?

The door to Lex's office smashes open, and before Lena can even think of escape Otis Graves throws her down atop the desk, twisting her arms painfully behind her. She cries out in pain, but his grip doesn't relent until her brother's tsk catches both their attentions.

"No need to damage my dear sister," Lex delivers coolly. "She knows not what she does."

Lena looks up in time to see her brother motion towards the visitors chair. Otis shoves her into it, quickly securing her wrists to the armrests with black zipties. Despite herself, Lena grips the metal frame tightly, as though they alone could keep her grounded.

She recognizes the impending drift of disassociation-- she can't let herself disengage. She has to prod Lex, goad him into confessing as much as possible. If the wire and microphone taped under her blouse are discovered, there's no doubt in Lena's mind that she'll be dead before the cops downstairs even hit the elevators.

Even if she can't stop this, if she can't fix the sun, she needs to take him down. For good.

She tries to listen to his monologue, but his voice drones in her ear. He says so much but makes little sense, his logic twisting to the point Lena can barely follow. A helicopter spotlight nearly brings her back into focus, but when it explodes into a ball of fire in front of her eyes it's too surreal, like her mind can't wrap itself around the horrific reality playing out before her.

She blinks, and tunes in to the tail end of Lex's hateful, prideful diatribe, catching Superman's name and clinging to it.

"At least he's a good man," Lena grinds out, the words sandpaper against her throat.

Lex shouts in her face, so loud and so close she can't control the way her body jumps and cringes away from him.

Weak, she condemns herself. Pathetic.

There's a rustle as bodies surge into the room, the clicking of cocking weapons pattering against her ears. But the world doesn't come back into focus until she sees him hurrying into the room.

"Jack," she breathes.

She's been freed from the chair, it seems, as she's able to rise and step into Jack's arms unimpeded. Suddenly, the world is tangible again, and Jack's concern for her solidifies the fact that what's just happened actually did happen.

"I'm such an idiot," she murmurs.

She expects his denial, and her mind steps smoothly around his reasoning. She'd thought she could stop Lex on her own, thought she could get to him before he did something truely horrific.

How foolish she had been.

Even so, beneath her self-condemnation, the tiniest voice sparks to life. She can still help. Lena pulls back, looking up at Jack for a long heartbeat before slipping free. She moves towards Lex's desk, hoping on hope that he'd been too busy gloating to lock the computer.

The nearest officer issues a sharp "hey!", but his step to intercept Lena is interrupted by Jack, who uses his full frame to eclipse Lena from view.

"You trusted her enough to put her in harm's way," he delivers bluntly. "Trust her to end this."

It's a faith Lena prays isn't misplaced. She finds victory in the monitor displaying the exact window she'd left off on, and after a moment to steady herself, she starts to type. As her fingers fly, she comes further back to herself. The world sharpens, then narrows to the screen in front of her as she moves between windows and files as swiftly as she can.

Lena doesn't know if the red sun would actually kill Superman, or just negate his powers, but she isn't willing to wait to find out. She needs to put whatever technology Lex used to ground, now.

It's not long before she pauses, and clicks into the final mainframe. A cascade of windows open in front of her, containing schematics and codes and, above all, a navigation panel. It is a satellite, and its effect is relatively narrow, unable to encompass the entire globe-- only most the Atlantic and United States. He'd gambled on Superman being within its area of effect, and based on the fact its still functional suggests he'd gambled corrently.

By now Jack has come to stand at her shoulder, and Lena knows he sees what she does.

"You can't disable it, can you," he says, his voice low. The police lurk at the corners of Lena's vision, waiting helplessly for orders that won't be coming any time soon.

Lena shakes her head minutely. "No."

Jack's hand settles on her shoulder, a silent reassurance that she's tried her best. Except Lena isn't quite finished.

"But I can alter its trajectory."

It takes her a few moments to gain full access to the navigational codes, but once she's in it's only moments before she has the satellite careening towards the outer layer Earth's atmosphere.

On the screen the diagram of the satellite blinks in alarm as friction begins to eat at its shielding, then blinks violently as vital systems begin to go offline. Finally, the rendering of the satellite goes dark, confirming complete structural failure.

Jack's hand tenses on her shoulder, gripping it tightly as they wait. Lena's breath hitches in her chest as the city outside the window starts to brighten, as gentle as a sunrise. The chaos below seems to pause, amd quiet descends as every gaze in the city looks up in relief.

"You did it," Jack murmurs.

"Too late," she whispers back. Too late to prevent hysteria, prevent injury and death across the country. Jack simply presses a kiss to the top of her head.

Later, when she moves to National City, and the years pass, Lena won't remember the majority of that afternoon. The emotions linger, but the details are lost, fuzzed out by her dissonance in the moment.

What she does remember is Jack's hand in hers on the way to the precinct for a debrief. She remembers the warmth of his arms around her in bed that night, and the words he'd uttered in the dark.

"You're an idiot for putting yourself in danger." His voice had rumbled against her back, the way he'd spooned up against her. "But you will never be an idiot for trying to help."

Lena remembers the way her eyes had filled with tears, and how she'd clenched every muscle in her body to keep from sobbing.

The kiss Jack pressed to her shoulder still sears across Lena's memory.

"I'm proud of you, Lena," he'd told her.

Lena hadn't quite believed him then, but now she thinks she does.

"Never forget that."

[cognitosclowns]

what about Dr. Andre and Brett getting a bj from their inexperienced s/o ( ͡~ ͜ʖ ͡°)

IM RATTLING THE BARS OF MY CAGE, I WILL HAVE TO BE SEDATED. I AM FROTHING AT THE MOUTH. GASPING.

MINORS PISS OFF, HERE BE COCKS

EXPLICIT NSFT <3

Idk why but I specifically envisioned these happening at a desk?? it changes nothing but im setting ambience shh

Brett

He probably doesn't even notice they're inexperienced, and if he does? he doesn't care

That's quite literally his last priority right now because his cock is halfway down their throat

Listen every brain cell left in his head is focused on not cumming early s,mdnsd

One hand is just,, flailing between petting their hair, gripping his own to keep himself focused, and gripping the armrest for dear life.

The other hand is pressed over his mouth in an attempt to not completely embarrass himself smsmdnsd.

he’s failing, because they can hear him whining in the back of his throat, but he’s trying!

The most his S/O can really make out is his eyes? Just big, wide eyes staring at them in a mixture of adoration and shame.

He nods enthusiastically if they swirl circles around the tip <3 that shit gets him like nothing else tbh

When he’s close he grabs onto the fabric at their shoulders and lurches forward until they can feel his stomach press against their forehead.

Probably also gently cradles the back of their head while they swallow? less forcing, and moreso begging them to let him stay inside msdnsd

so many kisses after <3 come sit with him and cuddle, that was so sweet of them to do for him!! and the moment his legs stop shaking he’ll repay the favor <3

-

Andre

Just,, absolute relief.

His entire body slumps into it and his head rolllllllllls back to thump against the back of his chair. This massive, bone-aching sigh.

Blowjobs at the end of a long day? Just sitting back while someone else does the work? a beautiful view? <3 perfect way to relax

Just,, giggling happily to himself, staring up at the ceiling all blissed out with a lazy smile <3 this man is in heaven.

He doesn’t mind if they can’t take much - he’ll gladly stroke the base while they focus on the tip/balls. His free hand will be on their shoulder, or cheek to give some guidance! 

He’ll tap his thumb on their teeth if they need to loosen their mouth, wiggle his tongue at them if he wants a bit more of that - very playful with everything <3

Shamelessly rolling his hips into their mouth. Not enough to gag them - just enough to rub his frenulum on their tongue? A bit of friction never hurts, esp when they can’t take much without gagging!

‘aw, getting ‘choked up’?’  and similar teasing. Hes a brat but its ok

The only time he’s not grinning is when he’s close tbh - his eyes get intense. This perfectly adoring, demanding look? Forcing eye contact?? <3

He also starts muttering something under his breath?? but fuck if his S/O has any idea what he’s saying lmao.

He’ll want to see the mess on their tongue after - no problem if they can’t swallow, he knows it tastes like shit lmao smdsd.

(protip : lavish him after. Plenty of kisses down the shaft while he works through the aftershocks <3 he twitches like he’s been hooked up to a car battery)

Right after he’s back to his usual, eccentric self <3 he definitely needed that

(if they want smth for themself, they may have to bring his attention back bc,, he’s easily distracted msnds)

UHHH lmk what y’all thought!! THIS WAS FUN TO WRITE I AM <3 <3 FOR ALL OF THESE CHARACTERS,, WAILING

[nateezfics]

DADDY’S TOUCH

♔ PAIRING — unspecified member x reader

♔ GENRE — smut, fem!reader, ceo au if you squint

♔ WARNINGS — smut, self pleasure, fingering, unprotected sex, daddy kink, some impact play/spanking, sexual language

♔ WORD COUNT — 1.7k

♔ NOTE — happy valentine’s day everyone!!💋

You didn’t know what it was. It wasn’t certain if it was the alcohol in your system or if it was the ever throbbing need pulsing in your veins that was clouding your mind in this moment. Whatever it was, it had you desperate for some sort of release. You stumbled across the large suite, dodging tables and furniture just barely. You didn’t know exactly where you were going, but you decided that the large sofa was good enough to rest on, one hand reaching out so you could brace yourself against its armrest.

You breathed, deep inhales and exhales escaping you as your heart thudded wildly in your chest. Your vision was spinning, but you knew from the ache between your legs that it wasn’t just the one too many cocktails that had your surroundings fading in and out of view. Your free hand ran up your thigh slowly and you collected the material of your sequence dress in your grasp. You hiked up the dress until you could reach your panty lining.

You gasped weakly as your fingers went to press against your lace covered clit, the little bundle of nerves pulsing underneath your touch. You bit your lip to keep yourself from moaning too loudly as you circled your intimate area languidly. You felt wetness soak through your underwear, the lace fabric growing more drenched by the second. Your now shaky hand stopped what it was doing to dip under the band of the panties so you could slip them off of you.

You gripped the chair for dear life as you toyed with your slick folds. Small little whimpers fell from your mouth as you plunged two fingers into your hole. You were quick to set up a hasty rhythm, eager to try to satisfy your raging desire. The expansive suite was soon filled with the sounds of your heavy breaths and the low squelches of your slick folds.

In the rush to find your high, you grew unaware of what was happening around you. You didn’t notice that the door to the suite had opened and that someone had stepped inside. Your heart leapt into your throat as arms wrapped around you from behind. You about fell forward from being so startled, but the arms held you firmly in place.

Lips brushed against the shell of your ear, goosebumps prickling along your neck, and the voice that whispered lowly into your ear eased your tense muscles. However, you were soon tense again as your foggy brain registered what was being said to you. “I thought you’d said you were feeling unwell, darling.”

Your own pulse was loud in your ears as you tried to form a proper response. The man chuckled behind you.

“I let you leave the event early so you could come back to our suite to rest, but here you are doing nothing of the sort.” His arms tightened around your form, pressing your backside into his groin and making you shudder.

Fear fell upon you and you grew worried about what he was going to do to you. You were too desperate, too deprived to be able to withstand his punishment tonight. You gulped as the silence began to eat away at you. Your still wet cunt throbbed in need to be touched again. “I’m sorry. I know I shouldn’t touch myself without your permission. I’m j-just —”

The man snickered into your ear. His teeth nipped at it and you gasped. “Just what, hm?”

You shut your eyes as you reveled in the feeling of his mouth against your ear. You breathed in. “I’m so n-needy. It’s been so long since you’ve touched me, Daddy. I just needed to...t-to be touched...”

“Oh,” he cooed. “My little touch starved baby.”

You whined as the ache between your thighs was continuing to be neglected. You were still frightful of him punishing you and not giving you what you so direly needed.

He began to kiss down the nape of your neck. One hand rose so he could slip one of the straps of your dress off your shoulder, lips venturing across the newly revealed skin. “I know I’ve been so busy with work lately. Daddy is so sorry for neglecting his little baby. So I’ll let this instance slide, okay?”

Your body almost went slack as you felt relief wash over you. Your hand that was on the couch rested itself on his hand at your middle. “Thank you, Daddy.”

He hummed. His hand slipped down to your naked sex, fingers ghosting over your clit. He bit into your shoulder just as you moaned. “Here, let me touch you, baby. Daddy’s touch is so much better, right?”

You leaned back into his chest, pressing into him and wrinkling his suit. Your head lulled backwards into his shoulder. Soft moans resounded from you as he began to finger fuck you, his digits satisfying you way more than yours ever could. “Mmh, yes. Oh my god, yes.”

Pleasure surged through out your whole being as his fingers worked inside you. His unoccupied hand had slipped into your dress to fondle your breast. He held you in his arms firmly as you quickly began to fall apart.

It was like fireworks ignited inside you as your orgasm took over you. Shouts of bliss reverberated inside the luxurious suite as you lost yourself in the euphoria. You trembled in his hold, but he embraced you through your high. His mouth kissed your neck softly as you calmed down.

You gasped when he urged you to bend over, placing your palms on the cushions of the sofa. He lifted your dress over your ass just before his hands left you. You heard the sound of his belt buckle.

You choked as the tip of his cock suddenly met with your still wet cunt. He chuckled darkly behind you. “Let Daddy make up for all the lost time,” he bent over you, lips finding your ear yet again. “I’ll make sure my baby is nothing short of satisfied.”

You could’ve sobbed when he pushed himself in, eyes filling with tears at the sweet stretch of him. Your nails dug into the cushion just as his hips shifted forward, pressing into you as deep as he could go. Thighs shaking, you shifted your footing, widening your legs to better accommodate him.

His breath was hot on your neck. “Your cunt is always so eager to take me.” A palm was flat against your lower abdomen, pressing into you to feel the way he bulged within you.

All he was offering you was shallow thrusts, barely moving his hips, but the all too familiar coil in your belly was tightening nonetheless. You moaned when he bucked into you again, fingers digging into the couch even more.

He stood straight and his hands roamed down your body. He paused to appreciate your bare ass, palms cupping your cheeks and spreading you. He watched the way his cock disappeared into your sopping cunt and smirked. “Such a pretty little pussy, all stretched around my cock.”

Your face heated at his words, and you felt so wonderfully exposed to him. You felt the way his dark eyes bore into your backside, and you gushed at the thought of him taking in the sight of you in such a state. “I love taking your cock, Daddy. It feels s-so good.”

You heard him chuckle. “Ah, you do?” His tone was arrogant, already knowing the answer to his own question. If there was anything you enjoyed the most in this life, it was the feeling of being stuffed full of your Daddy’s cock. And he knew that. Oh, did he know it. “Because you’re my perfect little slut, right?”

Just as you attempted to respond to him, he decided to withdraw himself before slamming back into you, making you cry out. You willed yourself to stay upright even though your arms shook from the onslaught of pleasure. Eventually you caved, falling face first into the couch cushion, moans muffled.

One of his hands gripped your hair and lifted your head up marginally, just enough so your cries could be heard loud and clear. His free hand met your ass cheek with a resounding smack and you yelped at the impact. “I asked you a question.”

You took too long to reply for his liking, and you felt another sharp smack against your ass. You whimpered. “I’m your perfect little slut.”

Another smack. You cried aloud, ass cheek smarting and red. “Whose? Be more specific, darling.”

“Yours, Daddy. Your perfect little slut.”

His hand rubbed at your cheek to ease the sensitive flesh. “That’s my good girl.” It was within a few split seconds that his thrusts became unhinged, hips fucking into you at a bruising force.

His hand had left your hair to return to your waist, and you stood there with your ass in the air and face smooshed into the cushion as you took every bit of what he was giving you. His cock was battering your tight hole, and each harsh plunge of it inside you pushed you that much closer to the edge. You didn’t have the energy to lift your head up, instead you muttered into the cushion and hoped he heard you. “So c-close, Daddy.”

And he did hear you. He was so in tune with you, your body, your wants. “Want to come, baby girl?”

You nodded while you moaned out a raspy “please”.

“Alright, baby. Let Daddy make you come.” He bent over you like had done earlier, body pressed against your backside and engulfing you in his warmth and scent. He kissed at the nape of your neck while he worked you on his cock, fucking you to your climax.

The coil in your belly snapped and euphoria rippled throughout your body. You shook from the force of it, and you relied on him to keep your legs from buckling. His name spilled from your lips like a mantra as you rode out the pleasure as long as you could. Just before you could recollect yourself, you were lifted further up onto the couch and flipped, ass landing on the thick cushions. You looked up at him as he positioned himself between your legs, cock finding your entrance. You moaned from overstimulation as his tip rubbed against your slit. “D-daddy?”

He pushed himself into you, hands pressing down on your thighs to open you even wider for him. “Sshhh, baby girl. I told you I would make sure you’re satisfied, and I intend to keep that promise.”

@essenteez @sansimp @tohokuu @alphadisaster tagging y’all just because ❣️