#he's just. he's so endeared and a little bit thrown

[lighthouseborn]

to balance the extremely odd energy i just put out here though i really do think. and i maybe think about this a lot but- i really do think. the movie is wrong because carina definitely kissed him first. send post.

[sysig]

Starting out, things going Exactly to plan, as expected (Patreon)

[hanasnx]

Hop hop 🐇 strutting around Jay's apartment in nothing but panties and his leather jacket that's still warm from his body 🐇 hop hop

-doe 🐾

JASON TODD shirtless and in gray sweatpants and a thin silver chain around his neck, manspreading in his seat as he annotates on some blueprints. The Bat left quite an impression on him, including his knack for being thorough. The cap of his sharpie sits between his teeth, the soft squeaking of the marker scribbling on parchment filling the room. Even though you got laid this morning, you should be good, but instead you’re especially needy. He’d gotten back a little bit ago from picking up those blueprints, and the leather bike jacket he wore on his motorcycle ride had been thrown on the bed haphazardly. Crawling out in just your undies, you were chilly, so you put the jacket on. It sat on your shoulders like a curtain. Heavy, and huge, and stiff. Still warm from his body heat, it provided enough protection to pad out to see him.

It takes him a second to notice you, and when he does, that famous grin stretches onto his lips. Hopelessly attractive with defined dimples and smile lines that could kill, crookedly smiling at you with that cap in between his pearly white teeth. “What’re you doin’ over there, baby? C’mere.” He snips the cap from his mouth between his fingers like a cigarette, and you obediently come to his beckoning hand and inviting lap. You sit on his thigh, and the rigid material of the jacket stands up on its own. He snickers at you. “Whose jacket is that, babycakes?”

Timidly, you concede, “My Jay’s…”

It amuses him further, giving you a soft look with a flash of his raised brows. “Yeah? S’your Jay’s?” he mimics your melodic response in a twinge of a mocking tone out of endearment. “It’s, uh, little big for you, huh? Your Jay a big guy?” He wasn’t gonna let this go, and you fidget with your hands, looking up at him with those glossy doe-eyes. While he talks, a single finger moves aside the leather to get a peek at your bare chest.

“Huge.” you tell him with stars in your eyes, gesturing size with your hands, and it makes him laugh again, particularly inclined to adore you with a kiss on your cheek.

[irndad]

oh, but you're good to me -s.r.

a/n: i continue to not know the word count- but here's pining!spencer x sunshine!reader!! very hozier coded <3

The team has gone out for drinks after a stressful week, and this is a moment where Spencer finds that his willpower does not so easily overpower his desire. They’d chosen a kind of kitsch place, the kind where there’s couches where waitresses could bring you your drink under dimmed lights and music with cozy acoustic music played. Emily and Morgan were comparing conquests at their trip to the club the week prior, Penelope chiming in with warm support on either end. On the opposite table, Hotch and Rossi were discussing criminology in serious, even tones. 

And Spencer, well. He was well-occupied. 

His best friend is on the team, and he does not say that lightly. She’s earned her place in his heart, as hopelessly romantic as that makes him sound. But she did. He remembers the day he met her, warm tone seeped in patience and understanding. 

He remembers the sight of her like its engraved crystal, carved into the basis of his mind. Her delicate features distinct in their warm kindness. She’d offered her hand, shook it and giggled a sweet sound when he’d said it’d be safer to kiss. He’d blushed enough that his lack of flirtation in his intent was clear. 

On the jet, that first case, she’d listened to him talk about Russian literature and other obscure topics he couldn’t remember now, because now, all he can recall is the color of her doe eyes meeting him in intention. 

He’s pretty sure he’s in love with her. 

Which, right now, feels a bit like a drug- both painful and exhilarating. She’s a cuddly drunk (only with him, it seems) and he’s got a lanky arm tugged over her shoulder. It’s lovely in a way words vex him, the weight of her against him. 

“You look nice today, Spence,” she muses, looking up at him. His heart is going to stop.

“You do too,” he breathes out. This is nice. She’s touchy, and he likes when she touches him. It’s a pleasure, like sipping expensive wine or decadent chocolate, sweet and a little bit sad, because you know you can’t have it forever. 

She plays with his scarf, and he is hopelessly endeared by the sight of the fabric in between her delicate fingers. 

“This color is nice,” she muses, and god,  he wants to kiss her. This a thought Spencer has often, oftentimes at inopportune times. On the jet, in the office, at her house, in the car- always, really. 

Except now, no one’s looking at them. If loving her was enough to make her love him back, then he could. 

But it isn’t. 

He chokes back the emotion rich in his throat. He brushes her hair out of her face, a tender motion that betrays his intentions with her. 

“You always look lovely,” Spencer says earnestly. I love looking at you, he thinks.

She smiles back earnestly and warmly. 

“I didn’t think you noticed things like that.”

“I always do, when it’s you.”

He doesn’t know why this is what he’s allowed to have. She’s so close to him, pinned up against him and he can feel the curve of her waist against his side. He doesn’t get it, why he’s not her boyfriend but he still gets moments like these, where she’s pinned to him like velcro. He’s addicted to them, really- craves the moments where she falls asleep on his lap on the jet, where they’ll be walking together somewhere and she’ll lace their fingers and tug him along when she’s excited and the destination in sight.

Maybe this is just how she touches her best friends- he tries not to question it, because he doesn’t want to loosest. 

But tonight, under the low-light of the bar, shadows of her lashes thrown across the slope of her cheek- he wants to ask her.

“Are you like this with everyone?” He muses. He immediately regrets it, sees her face harden and feels the shift away from him, and the space leaves a gap of cold air. There’s a swoop f nerves in his stomach.

“I don’t know, I think I just thought- you know, we’re like this. We’re touchy, you and me.”

He’s not touchy. Everyone knows this, but she’s the exception to a rule that has held true his entire life. But he loves this, loves the feeling of this.

“I like this,” he says, intentional eye contact trained on her shaking irises. He reaches out and laces their fingers in an act of bravery that rivals some of his most intense moments, “I’m wanting inf you want more of it. Because I do.”

“You do?”

She’s back close to him, now, and he’s so immensely grateful for it. She smells like lilies and her, and this might be the only time he’s brave enough to do something like this. 

It turns out he doesn’t have to, because before he can answer, she kisses him. It happens fast, and his response is all instinct- pulling her into him closer, his hands around her waist and her soft sigh into his mouth that threatens to kill him. It’s better than his fantasies at night could have made him expect. 

“Hi,” she says, barely above a whisper when she pulls away. She looks a little adorably off-guard, in a way he’d like to create- like to instigate. 

“Hi back,” he says, a beaming grin threatening to spread over his face. He tries to memorize the feeling of this, the weight of her in his arms in case this is not something he can keep- he wants to remember it, what it felt like for her to kiss him, to be wanted by her. 

“Do you want to go out sometime?”

“Like out of here? It’s kind of cold outside-“

“On a date, Spencer.”

Instead of a response, Spencer kisses her again. It is absolutely the right choice.

[juleswritesstuff]

Starving

Basically, just Theo being the munch that he is.

theodore nott x fem!reader

warnings: smut

Enjoy💗

You had always hated Herbology with a deep passion.

Not the plants per se, those were rather fascinating to observe, but did they really need to have such a vast variety of species ? Was it actually necessary ?

Apparently it was, or Mrs Sprout wouldn't have given you a whole 600 words essay to write on every type of mandrake known to man.

Those screaming little things got on your nerves, and you could barely understand what the professor was talking about while tending to them. Hence, you were finding it extremely difficult to complete that paper.

The door of your dorm room suddenly opened and you had to restrain a curse from slipping through gritted teeth.

You had really hoped to not get interrupted.

Apparently your prayers weren't heard.

“You busy, dolcezza ?” (sweetie)

A more than familiar voice reached your ears. You lifted your eyes from your paper and they landed on none other than Theodore Nott, who was standing right in front of your door, now closed again, with a faint smirk plastered on his face. 

You rolled your eyes. You knew that little grin all too well.

“Kind of, yeah” you replied, your attention going back to the paper in front of you as you started scribbling again with your quill “Aren't you ? Have you already finished your essay ?” you asked, cocking an eyebrow.

“Just turned it in, so I have some time to kill” he said with that cocky attitude of his.

Infuriating and charming at the same time, truly unfair.

“Good for you, then. I don't, so if you could leave me to it, it would be much appreciated” you said as a forced smile curved your lips.

“Oh, come on. You don't even have a little time ? Per me ?” he asked, tilting his head slightly to the side with the most innocent expression he could master. (For me ?)

Which didn't work because his eyes screamed trouble.

Theo looked like an angel with his brown hair curled in soft locks and eyes as blue as the ocean, although dead and emotionless looking.

Actually, he was the devil in disguise. Especially when he acted all coy like this.

“No Theo, I really don't have time for your little antics today” you said huffing.

‘His little antics’ being eating you out till tears rolled down your cheeks and your mascara was smudged and unsalvageable. 

You and Theo were ‘friends’. You got along just fine, you talked, and you bickered like there was no tomorrow. It was part of your friendship, the teasing, the little harmless jokes. It was routine for the two of you.

What was also routine was the flirting. 

Shameless and obvious flirting.

You never thought it would lead anywhere. You were so used to the little Italian endearments he gave you and the ever present smirk on his lips that you didn't really think anything of it.

Until one night, after one of the biggest parties that Slytherin had ever thrown, you ended up in his bed, with him between your legs eating you out like his life depended on it.

You didn't even know how you found yourself in that situation, you just knew that you hadn't minded one bit.

You ended up with shaky legs and a dizzy brain just by his tongue alone.

Saying that you didn't mind it would've been an understatement.

The day after was awkward as hell, but you both were too direct and honest to not deal with the weird atmosphere immediately.

So you decided to add some…privileges to your relationship. 

You discovered Theo had quite an oral fixation. 

He needed to keep his mouth occupied with something.

Cigarettes were a great way to keep his mouth busy, but they were extremely damaging for his health.

You didn't mean to make him stop smoking, you knew it would've been basically impossible, and, if you had to be completely honest with yourself, he looked so damn hot with those death traps between his lips, but you wanted to at least try to reduce the amount of nicotine that went into his body.

And what better way than to bribe him with the second thing he loved the most in the world ?

Eating you out seemed to be his favorite hobby.

Anytime he felt the need to light one cigarette more than necessary he came to you, with that sinful smirk on his lips and the hottest ‘fuck me’ eyes he could master.

And who were you to say no ? 

You had proposed the deal in the first place.

Plus, he was amazing at it too. The way his tongue worked on your cunt definitely felt like ascending to heaven.

But now you really didn't have the time.

“I'm not here because I feel like smoking, Y/n” he said walking up to you and stopping in front of the desk, leaning forward a little as he supported his weight with his hands on the table. 

You made the mistake of lifting your eyes from the parchment and locking them with his. His gaze was magnetic. Once those pools of stormy sea caught you, you couldn't escape.

“Then why are you here ?” you asked, raising your eyebrows.

“Cause I'm starving, bambolina” he uttered with the calmest and most unaffected tone in his voice. (babydoll)

You narrowed your eyes.

“Then you should be in the kitchen to solve that little problem, don't you think ?” you asked rhetorically, eyes going back to focus on the parchment in front of you.

You heard him scoff, and suddenly he was leaning so much closer.

Your head was still hung low, trying to write that damn essay, but his presence was distracting as hell and you couldn't help but shiver when he leaned to whisper in your ear.

“You're right, that would be the perfect solution if I was hungry for food” he stopped and you could feel the teasing smile plastered on his face.

“But all I'm craving is you and that pretty little cunt of yours, so I don't think the kitchen elves could really help me with that”

You wished you could say his words didn't affect you, you really wished.

But the sudden warmth on your cheeks and the unconscious clench of your legs told another story.

You really didn't have time for this, but your body was craving him and his touch like crazy, and you weren't sure you would've been able to focus if you didn't feel his tongue working its wonders on you.

So you sighed and pushed the chair you were sitting on a bit farther away from the desk, enough to take your knickers off and throw them somewhere behind you, then you sat back, your skirt still covering you up until your mid thighs.

His eyes darkened with lust.

“Make it quick, I have an essay to finish” you said, faking indifference.

On the inside you were burning alive.

“Quick ? It's like you don't know me at all, dolcezza” he said with a scoff as he sank to his knees, crawling until he was right in front of you.

His gaze locked in yours as his hands made contact with the bare skin of your legs, caressing them gently, tenderly.

“I'll take my sweet time with you. Ora fai la brava and open those gorgeous legs for me” you hated how fast you complied, but with the way he was looking at you you really couldn’t help yourself. (Now be good) 

He lifted your skirt and he leaned forward.

As soon as his tongue made contact with your folds you melted.

You choked out a whimper, and you could feel him smirk right against your groin.

"Wipe that grin off your face, Nott, I'm only -ah fuck, I'm only doing it because you begged me” you said as he kept lapping at your core with his tongue, wrapping his lips around your clit to give it a gentle suck.

The moan that rippled out of you was almost pornographic.

“Piccola bugiarda, you know that's not true. You're doing it because you want it too” he moved his mouth from your cunt to your thighs, giving feather light kisses on the sensitive skin. (Little liar)

“You're so wet, you didn't think I would notice ?” he asked with that fucking cocky attitude that made you go crazy.

“Shut up and put that mouth to a better use” you said, but the bite in your voice was definitely toned down by the urgency and neediness of having his mouth back where you needed him the most.

His head tilted to the side as he leaned back just the tiniest bit.

“What's with the attitude, uh ?”

“No, no, no, -shit Theo. Come back here” you said, almost whining.

He was too far, and you needed him.

You needed him closer, way fucking closer.

“E come si dice ?” he teased, his eyes were dark and fogged up by lust and hunger. (And what do you say ?)

“Fuck, why do you always want me to beg ?” you asked, defeated. He leaned forward again, his breath hovering right above the tender skin as you clenched around nothing, feeling the loss of his tongue.

“Because it's fun, I love it when you beg me with that sweet mouth of yours. Plus I like seeing you flustered” he said as he started to kiss every inch and nook of your most sensitive area, avoiding where you really wanted him to.

You wanted to curse so bad, but you knew that was not what he wanted, what he needed.

“Theo -fuck. Please Theo, just touch me. Please” you surrendered, your voice whiny and broken, until a melody of moans and whimpers started to ripple out of your lips as soon as his mouth met your folds again.

And this time he didn’t stop.

He lapped at your juices like a starved man enjoying his meal for the first time in days.

He licked, and sucked, and kissed every centimeter, every inch of tender skin like he was born to do that.

Your hands buried in his soft brown locks and you tugged at them unconsciously after a particularly good roll of his tongue made you see stars.

“Cazzo, se continui così verrò nei pantaloni porca puttana” he said, hissing. His mouth kept working wonders on your cunt, his groans creating delicious vibrations on your clit. (Fuck, if you keep this up I'll come in my pants, holy shit)

“Ancora” he said between ravenous licks and delicate, teasing sucks, guttural moans leaving his lips. (Again)

“What ?” you asked, lost in pleasure. Your little knowledge of the Italian language became nonexistent when he was busy making you cry on his tongue.

“Again, baby. You know i fucking love it” he says, mouthing the words right against your core.

And so you obeyed, tugging at his hair again, a little rougher, a little harder.

A low groan left his lips.

You were close, you were so fucking close.

“Shit, Theo, baby” you moaned out loud, the term of endearment completely slipping out.

Theo seemed to notice, because he started to go faster, tongue flicking desperately at your folds.

Your breath got caught in your lungs, your ears rang and your sight turned black as you got hit by pleasure.

The hand on his hair kept Theo close as you rode your orgasm on his tongue.

He lapped at your juices carefully, to not overstimulate you, leaving sweet butterfly kisses on your thighs, worshiping the skin with his lips.

Once your breathing started to go back to normal and your sight was not blurry from the pleasure anymore you looked at him.

He was still kneeling in front of you, a teasing smile tugging at his lips as his eyes focused on your face.

“You look quite disheveled, principessa” he said with a chuckle, pride oozing from his features for reducing you in that state. All fucked out and breathless. (princess)

“Oh, yeah ? And whose fault is that ?” you asked in mocking shock, but you couldn't help a chuckle from escaping your lips.

“And you're one to talk” you added as you took in his appearance. His eyes were still quite foggy and unfocused, his hair a mess from all the tugging, and his lips.

Oh, his lips. Red and shiny with your essence and the tiniest bit swollen.

He looked too fucking good to be true.

You knew you folded too easily when Theo was involved, but you couldn’t help it.

“I told you I was starving, you underestimated my eagerness to fucking devour you” he said with a shrug, wetting his lips to savor your taste once again, like his words didn’t make you feel like you were catching fire.

That mouth of his was a menace, physically and metaphorically.

“I’m never gonna be able to finish this stupid essay now” you said almost desperately.

He laughed at your pathetic whining, but it was a warm laugh, not one made to mock you but one that was closer to endearment.

“Was it so good that it melted your brain off ?” he asked with that cocky grin of his.

You looked at him with a deadpan expression.

“Your overly confident attitude never fails to amaze me, Theodore Nott '' you said with a chuckle. You straightened your posture on the chair, smoothing out all the wrinkles that he had left from fisting your skirt and holding on for dear life to keep your hips still.

“Now I don’t want to kick you out, but I really need to finish this”

“No need for that, tesoro, I’ll leave you to it. Wouldn’t want to distract you too much” he said, getting back up on his feet and tucking a rebellious strand of your hair behind your ear.

“See you at dinner ?” he asked. 

You simply nodded your head yes.

His hand was still gently caressing your cheek, the pads of his fingers were as light as a feather as they danced on your skin.

His eyes were locked in yours, and you had no idea of what was happening.

Until his fingers reached your chin, tilting your head up the slightest bit. 

Then he leaned in.

For the first time since you had started this ‘arrangement’ his lips met yours.

And they were sweeter than you thought, gentle, but there was an undertone of hunger, of neediness that you couldn’t ignore.

He tasted of nicotine and butter beer, bittersweet and addicting.

His lips were slightly chapped but you couldn’t care less about it as his tongue swiped on your bottom lip, his teeth grazing at it gently right after as he carefully bit the plump skin.

He pulled back slowly and you were left speechless.

He just chuckled at your wide eyes and agape mouth.

“Good luck on your essay, ok ? I’ll see you tonight” he left a quick kiss on your cheek before storming out of the door with a smile on his face.

Your thoughts were all over the place, because what the hell had just happened ?

Did Theodore Nott just kiss you ?

Something a little different from my usual marauders content, but he's been stuck in my brain for weeks now, and I couldn't help myself 😔

And honestly, as an Italian girl, I really think Lorenzo Zurzolo should be classified as a national treasure, thank you for coming to my ted talk.

[koqabear]

For the 2k event I would love to see football player!taehyun x cheerleader! Y/N and idc what the scenario is I would just love to see some spicy smut 🥵🥵 thank you!

[2K Masterlist]

"How not to scare off the stupid flirt that won’t leave you alone."

football player!Taehyun x fem!cheerleader!reader // wc: 5.7K // genre: college au, one-sided enemies to lovers, smut, MDNI.

warnings: i glanced over it does that count as a proof read, slight himbo tyun, (?!) mans a munch, switchy/kinda sub leaning service top! tyun (!!!?), switchy/dom leaning! mc, strength kink, degrading, praise, oral (f. rec.), dry humping, hair pulling, begging, bondage, creampies, overstimulation, lmk if i should add anything!

notes: went just a bit overboard rawr

Taehyun— star player of the football team, a total womanizer and flirt— has taken an interest in you. 

It was only a matter of time before he set his sights on you, wasn’t it? The cute cheerleader who was nothing short of energetic and endearing, waving your pom poms excitedly and sporting a bright smile on your face that never ceased at every game— you were easily the smartest person there, given a full-ride scholarship and spending your weekdays cooped up in the library studying, a complete switch from the preppy persona you put on display for the students and families in the bleachers, never giving anyone the time of day and focusing solely on your studies— in short, you were entirely unattainable.

Which only served to entice Taehyun more.

You never gave in to any of Taehyun’s advances— every wave, greeting, or call of your name was strictly ignored; any attempts to be friendly with you were thrown straight into the gutter by a single glare of yours, and Taehyun found himself lucky on the days you would even look at him willingly. 

Of course, your withering glares and upturned nose as you walked away from every approach would have any sane person tucking their tail and giving up immediately— but Taehyun wasn’t just anyone, and he found that it was quite fun to try and rile you up whenever he saw you— in and out of uniform— and it made his friends wonder if he was simply a masochist. 

“Dude, she looks like she’s ready to blow you up with her mind every time she sees you,” Yeonjun told him once, recounting the way you sneered at Taehyun the moment he tried to interact with you after the game, yet another successful win under their belts, “you mean to tell me you’re into that?”

Taehyun never bothered to deny such accusations; why would he, when he felt himself smile a little wider every time you told him to get lost, or would feel himself eager to chase after you when you would simply turn on your heel and walk the opposite direction whenever you made eye-contact with him? And if he spent nights staying up and thinking about the way your bright smile lit up the stadium and the bow on your head would bounce cutely with each stunt you performed, that was no one else’s business but his own. 

To Taehyun, you were the most refreshing part of every game; to you, Kang Taehyun was a stupid tick you just couldn’t get rid of. 

All charming smiles and smooth flirty lines— you were warned of him by your team, you knew that he was nothing but trouble the moment the rumors of his reputation started swimming around from ear to ear— a cocky D1 athlete that couldn’t stick to a single girl for more than a few days. 

So how is it possible that he’s still bothering you? He’s been after you since the season started, following you around dumbly and trying to get you to cave with even dumber lines you know he’s used on other girls. You never even bothered to bat an eye at him— you’ve never spoken to him past a snide remark telling him to get lost; you’ve shown negative interest in him, but even so, you still catch him staring at you with stars in his eyes. 

“Hey,” Taehyun says, managing to catch you after the home game has ended; still in your full face of makeup, so tired that you haven’t even bothered to change out of your uniform yet— you sneer on instinct, turning on your heel and walking the opposite way you were heading, even if it meant taking the farther exit— but Taehyun simply runs after you, not fazed in the slightest at your behavior, “Great game today, right? You guys were awesome. Your routines were super cool.”

“They’re the same ones we’ve been doing for a while now.” you comment dryly, tugging your duffle bag’s strap over your shoulder more; Oh, you can hear Taehyun mumble softly— you wonder if this is the moment he decides it's no longer worth it to pursue you. But again— things are never that simple for you. 

“Still, I just never get tired of watching you.”

You falter; Taehyun senses it, just like you sense his searing gaze on your face. 

“You’re not supposed to be watching me,” is all you’re able to say, albeit softly, a lot weaker than your usual dismissive tone.

“I know,” Taehyun hums softly, tilting his head as he continues to watch you, analyzing your expression acutely, “it’s just hard not to.”

Alright, you find yourself thinking, coming to a complete halt the moment you feel your heart fluttering hopelessly, this has to stop.

“Wow. Smooth,” you say apathetically, pursing your lips in distaste and observing the man before you— his relaxed, cocky demeanor, the lazy smile that pulls at his lips, his head that tilts curiously, grown out hair covering his eyes and hiding what he might be thinking— and you scoff, voice dripping with distaste as you continue, “how many girls has that line worked on already?” 

“None. One, maybe,” Taehyun quickly says, taking a step closer to you, until you’re able to smell him, the natural musk mixed with the fading scent of his cologne, “if she decides to give me a chance.” 

Your lips press together, your face unimpressed; he raises a brow at you, as though asking for an answer— swiftly, you roll your eyes and ignore his silent queues. 

“Not happening.” you’re turning around again, your pace must faster now, “go bother someone else who’s willing to be part of your roster.”

“I don’t want someone else,” Taehyun groans, jogging after you and placing himself in front of you, just so you’ll actually give him the time of day, “I just want you.”

“Oh really?” you laugh mockingly, entirely unconvinced by this act he seems to be putting up, “So if I fuck you, will you finally stop throwing a tantrum over something you can’t have?” 

He’s stunned; with hands on your hips, you step closer to him, getting up in his face as you continue to taunt him. 

“Are you gonna get bored and dump me after? Hmm?” you scoff, crossing your arms over your chest and taking a step back— Taehyun remains bewildered. “You’re probably not even worth it, actually.”

Just like he did earlier, you raise a brow; mocking him, waiting for him to respond as you tap your foot impatiently— instead, he remains silent, eyes scanning your face, as though waiting for you to say something else— you roll your eyes and shake your head, more than ready to push past him and finally go shower in the comfort of your own apartment. 

Your shoulder almost pushes against Taehyun’s body as you go to leave— but you’re stopped in your tracks before you can get the last say, a strong grip on your bicep keeping you still and turning your body around roughly— your duffle bag swings and the strap falls down your arm at the action.

“Don’t start something you can’t finish,” Taehyun says, leering down at you with dark eyes— he’s irritated, teeth gritted and brows knitted together as he speaks.

“Awh, is your ego wounded now?” you ask, pouting and batting your eyes at him, feeling his fingers dig into your skin as a result, “does it hurt your big macho pride to get rejected?”

Taehyun doesn’t say anything to that— his eyes seem to do the talking for him, narrowed dangerously at you, but even so, you still don’t care to take the hint. 

“Or— don’t tell me,” you make a point to lower your voice to a whisper, looking around skeptically for anyone else that could hear— but, the stadium was empty at this point, “did I hit too close to home? Oh no, are you that bad of a fuck?”

Taehyun’s jaw is clenched; he takes one look at your pouting, pitied face, at his fingertips that dig into the muscle of your bicep, and inhales slowly— and with one last glance around the area, he turns away and begins to roughly tug you along. 

“Woah— hey– hey, what the fuck do you think you’re doing—?!” 

You’re yelling and bitching at him, slapping at his shoulder and calling him names he could never come up with himself— and yet, you stumble along, refusing to take your arm out of his loosening grip— your actions speak louder than your (abrasive yet creative, Taehyun will admit) words; you’re curious, and Taehyun can already picture the look on your face the moment he finally brings the two of you into the empty locker room he previously raced out of just to look for you.

“What the hell man?” you yell, allowing yourself to be tugged further into the room, straight to a secluded corner that you immediately get backed up in; his hands are on your shoulders as he presses you firmly against the metal lockers, your back arching to get away from the uncomfortable feeling— he’s got you caged in with his body, unable to do anything more than press your hands against his chest in an attempt to keep your distance. You reluctantly take note of how firm his muscles feel. 

“What’s your deal?” you roll your eyes, noticing that he has yet to explain himself, resorting to glaring down at you with his stupid, big brown eyes, “Is this all you can do? Don’t know how to use your big boy words so you resort to force instead?”

“I should be asking you the same thing,” he suddenly says, his voice quiet and restrained as he eyes you carefully; your eyes widen, as though you weren’t actually expecting him to say anything, “all that talk for someone that doesn’t wanna be here.”

Your body heats up instantly at his words; you feel like a fish out of water with the way your mouth opens and closes, trying to find your rebuttal yet faltering under the heat of his gaze— he looks pissed, as though he’ll pounce on you the moment you say something wrong. 

“I don’t,” you finally say, the words not as confident as you wish they were, “you were the one that dragged me here.”

“Really?” he asks, raising a brow at the way you scoff and glare at him, standing your ground even if you both know you’re lying; his hands fall from your shoulders and he takes a step back, watching as you simply remain there, shocked. 

“Then leave.”

The look on his face is much too smug for your liking. He crosses his arms and smirks, taking another step back and nodding to the other side of the room, telling you that “the exit’s over there.”

You take a step forward, only to hesitate. Your eyes narrow at the sight of him, deep in thought before you finally kiss your teeth in distaste.

“God, you’re so fucking insufferable.”

Taehyun doesn’t get a chance to say anything to that because you’re all but leaping onto him after— you’re taking hastes steps to him and your hand reaches out for his nape, digging into his hair before pulling him in towards you for a kiss; to say he was expecting this would be a lie, but he’s more than prepared to melt into you anyway.

You’re nothing like the sweet and innocent persona you put up for the stadium; you’re insatiable, kissing Taehyun like you were starving, a hand reaching up to place itself on his chest, the feeling welcomed until he realizes something— you’re pushing him back, and before he knows it, he’s the one slamming back into the lockers.

His hand falls onto your hip, the other coming up to cup your jaw; his fingers wander endlessly, going from the pleats of your skirt to the elastic waistband, sly fingertips sneaking beneath before he’s pulling away and reaching down to cup your ass— he’s groaning into your mouth at the feeling, your teeth sinking in retaliation to him groping you like a bitch in heat. 

Taehyun’s mind is racing a million miles a minute; he never actually thought he’d get here, but now that he did, he’s found himself to be feeling ridiculously antsy— he wants to feel you, take his time to memorize every detail of you, but he also wants to perform ever fantasy he’s ever had about you, bad. 

And if he thinks he’s good at masking his desperation from you, he’s wrong. Very, very wrong. You could feel it from the way he kissed you back to the way his dick hardened in what you think is record time, his motions growing hasty as he couldn’t stop feeling you up, as though he’d die if he didn’t go from venturing up your shirt to grabbing at your ass, going back and forth and fucking up your balance completely— at this point, Taehyun was only left against the lockers because you were full on leaning on him.

When you pull away from the kiss, lips swollen and entirely out of breath, Taehyun chases after you; his eyes are low lidded and dazed as he looks at you, confused on why you look at him as though you’ll start laughing any second now. 

“Where’s that smooth guy from earlier?” you taunt, punctuating your words by pressing yourself firmly against him, listening to the quiet hiss you get in return, “you almost made me think that your reputation was actually true.”

God, he’s so predictable. You can barely hold back the smile that tugs at your lips, watching Taehyun’s reaction intently; it was like a light finally turned on in his head, glassed over eyes finally becoming conscious as he blinks at you, words registering in his head and grip slowly become harsher; his hand falls from your face and down to the small of your back, pulling you close and raising a confused brow at you. 

“What reputation?” he asks, the faux innocence making you roll your eyes.

“Oh y’know, just some girls saying shit. That you fuck the living daylights out of them, or whatever,” your hand that was braced against his chest trails up, fingertips going to the underside of his chin to flick his head up playfully— his eyes are pinned on you the entire time, and you giggle mockingly. “But all I see here is a horny teen that gets hard over a little bit of kissing.”

You’re baiting him— it’s so obvious and you both know it, but that doesn’t stop Taehyun from biting the said bait shamelessly, dark eyes glaring daggers at you challengingly as stares you down.

It all happens too quickly for you to process; your positions are being flipped around yet again and your back is slamming into the lockers, letting out a small yelp at the feeling— but it’s all washed out by the sight of Taehyun falling to his knees, pushing your legs open before he’s settling himself between them comfortably— his eyes sparkle under the lights as he looks up at you, the crude contrasting bringing a wave of heat throughout your body. 

“You have no idea how long I wanted to do this,” Taehyun rasps, grabbing your leg before he’s lifting it up, feeling your hand on his shoulder at the unexpected action; he merely chuckles, placing slow, wet kisses from your inner knee before he begins to trail in— once he’s at your inner thighs, he slings your leg over his shoulder leisurely, sucking and biting at the skin before mumbling against it, “fucking dreamed about this.”

His words are pathetically effective— your panties feel uncomfortably stuck to your cunt, and the anticipation of feeling Taehyun’s mouth there definitely isn’t helping.

“Bullshit,” you grit, your free hand reaching down to lace into his hair; your nails scratch along his scalp and pull at his roots, and Taehyun shivers at the feeling, “god, do your other hookups like it when you say this shit?”

Beneath your skirt, he shakes his head, fingertips digging into your thighs at the thought. You’re trying to provoke him, it’s obvious, yet Taehyun can’t help but get irritated at the fact that you seem to be focusing on everything but him. “You’re the only one I’ve ever talked to like this,” he says, pulling out from under your skirt to bring your panties down, dragging them slowly until they’re finally off— you note with wide eyes that he immediately pockets them. “I’m usually not much of a talker.”

“But if you hate it that much, I can be quiet,” he murmurs, beginning to go back to your cunt again, bunching your skirt at your hips so you can get a good view of him— his doe eyes flicker up at you, and you swear he must know what that does to you as he continues. “I can be whatever you want me to be.”

The dry laugh you let out comes out shaky and breathy; his affect on you is so obvious, yet you still seem to want to hide it all under this persona of yours, digging your heel in his back and tilting your hips closer to his face— he oggles at how visibly wet you are, a soft hiss leaving his lips as you pull at his hair, not giving him a chance to react before you’re pushing him in to where you need him the most. 

If you’re finally gonna give in to this stupid student athlete, it’s going to be on your terms. At least that’s what you tell yourself, a shaky moan escaping you and your grip tightening on Taehyun’s hair— he really doesn’t want to waste any time, you note.

His mouth feels like heaven; he’s quick to lick a stripe across your cunt, tongue digging at your needy hole before he comes up to your clit, licking at it teasingly until he finally hears you whine. His lips are soft and plump as he places messy kisses at your clit, his hands digging into your thighs in an attempt to stop you from shifting around so much— if anything, his bruising grip only serves to rip out another moan from you.

“S-shit, Taehyun— just like that, ah,” your moans are just as pretty as you— Taehyun feels like he’s in a daze as he presses closer against you, sucking your clit harshly and listening to the sweet whine you let out— he can feel his cock twitching pathetically in his pants, hips bucking at the air as his mouth moves down to your entrance. 

“Fuck!” your eyes screw shut as you feel Taehyun’s tongue enter you, the tip of his nose pressing against your clit as he nuzzles into your cunt, as though he could get further inside your pussy. The sighs and grunts he lets out aren’t lost on your ears either, cunt clenching desperately against him as you begin to wriggle out of his grip without realizing. 

“Mmmh, pretty face was meant to get fucked,” you groan out, the words slipping out of you without control. Your hips rock and grind against him, dazed eyes watching as his hold on you loosens and his tongue lolls out; watery eyes flicker back up to look at you, glowing from your compliment. 

Taehyun thinks that he could die happily like this. Your cunt is so sweet, so wet, the glide of it against his face enough to have him throbbing painfully in his pants. His jaw aches and it’s getting hard for him to breathe, but even then he refuses to stop— the sight of you is like a dream come true for him to pull away now. 

You’re so close— it’s evident by the way your hips start bucking against his face harshly, nails digging into his scalp as you push him closer, impossibly close— your mouth is left open, soft moans turning into curses as your leg tries to hook him in further, pressing against the firm muscles of his back— Taehyun’s eyes flutter shut, and before he can really second guess himself, he pulls away. 

The wet sound of his mouth leaving your dripping cunt should have you curling away and cringing in embarrassment. Instead, the only thing you can muster is a cry of his name, the sound venomous and disappointed as you glare down at the boy. 

“Sorry,” he says, voice broken and raspy, a panting and blushing mess, “I just— fuck, I need you.”

You’re left speechless at his desperation— but Taehyun doesn’t seem to mind, getting back up to his feet before he’s grabbing at your waist and leaning in to kiss you; you can feel how hard he is against you, and it allows you to snap into your senses as you go up to place your hands against his chest once more; pulling away, you push against him in order to get him to walk— he obeys immediately.

“Geez, you give a guy a chance and he starts acting like a little virgin,” you sneer, noting with a flip of your stomach that Taehyun only grins, unaffected by your jab. You’ve led him to the edge of the bench set in the middle of this small area, pressing down on his shoulders and getting him to sit down; he watches with stars in his eyes as you straddle his lap, sitting your dripping cunt over his bulge firmly. “Am I gonna have to put in all the work here?”

“I mean,” Taehyun trails off, his hands finding purchase on your ass and beginning to guide you to rock against him; his teeth sink into his lip and his eyes darken as he takes in the sight, drawing a gasp out of you as he bucks his hips up. Looking back up at you, his face is happy and sweet. “You really don’t have to. But it’s kinda hot to get bossed around by you though— just thought you were more into that.”

Your jaw ticks. Without warning, you push him down against the bench, hovering over him and placing your hands on his waistband as you begin to undo his jeans.

“Quite a weird way to try and play off that you’re my bitch,” you grit out, tugging at his boxers and watching his cock spring out— he groans, hips bucking up at the feeling, his tip a pretty pink that throbs and leaks pathetically.

Taehyun laughs softly, watching with awe as you spit in your palm and slowly begin to stroke him; his head falls back and his eyes screw shut, noting with coy satisfaction that your hand doesn’t fully wrap around him. 

“Yeah, I’m your bitch,” he sighs out, his hands flying to your waist and getting him to sit on his thighs, “fuck, you’re too good at this.”

God, he’s so stupid; giving in to all your taunts without much of a fight, sucked in entirely by the feeling of your hand that pumps his length so slowly, tightening your hold on him and twisting, squeezing his tip teasingly— his hands reach up to cover his face before he can stop himself, pretty hands obscuring his heated face and parted lips that let out soft sighs of pleasure. 

“Don’t hide from me now,” you say, reaching up to pry his hands away, his eyes fluttering open before locking with yours, “you look so good like this.”

His eyes widen, the tips of his ears reddening with a cute blush; your praise is so unfamiliar, yet it renders him weak and needy for more, reaching out to grab your waist to scoot you up more— your cunt is touching his length by the time you scold him to stop, though he doesn’t seem to care much for your orders as he begins to fuck his hips against you.

“C’mon, just fuck me already,” he groans, your eyes as big as saucers as he continues to whine and beg. “Aren’t you supposed to like, use me and stuff?” 

This… is not what you were expecting from him. 

You’re sure the words are written across your face too, the incredulous look you give him making him shrink slightly, as though he was just now realizing what he was saying. 

But before he can backtrack and say something monumentally stupid to cancel it out, you grin, hovering over his lap and grabbing at his cock, lining it up with your entrance and taking in the way he visibly shudders. 

���You sound so cute when you’re begging,” you say, running his tip along your slit, allowing it to collect your growing arousal, the sound loud to both of you, “y’know, I would’ve given you a chance much earlier if you acted all nice and cute like this from the start.

“That player persona of yours wasn’t really my thing.”

The head of his cock finally breaches your entrance; Taehyun moans at the feeling of you finally sinking on him, able to feel the way he stretches you out the further you take him in, wet and warm walls fluttering with each gentle push. 

“Mmh,” your brows are furrowing at the feeling, not expecting him to be so damn thick— but you took him in regardless, putting on an apathetic front even if you were on the verge of melting on top of him— you can feel him twitch inside you, a weak whimper escaping you as his hands dig into your thighs, digging into the flesh cruelly once he finally bottoms out. 

“God, you’re fucking perfect,” Taehyun breathes out, hissing through his teeth once you finally start moving; your hips are methodical, your movements cruelly calculated as you rise slowly, leaving him waiting for a second before you slam back down— his legs jump, your body bouncing from the motion. 

You can’t help but laugh at the sight of him; he’s the definition of fucked out, sweat that beaded at his hairline causing strands of hair to stick to his skin, chest heaving and teeth digging into his lips with every bounce on his cock— when you start to set a pace, you note with annoyance that Taehyun just can’t stop trying to take over, his hands traveling to your waist to try and guide you, his hips fucking up to meet your pace. It’s endearing, for a moment, but then you find that he begins to get too handsy, his hands now lost underneath your shirt and trailing over your breasts curiously.

“Okay now, don’t get too ahead of yourself,” you chide condescendingly, stopping your pace and sinking onto him, your weight fully on him as you swat his hands off. Taehyun begins to protest immediately, groaning about how mean and unfair you’re being. His hands attempt to go back to your waist, but you slap them off again, giving him a glare that makes him pout at you. 

Thoughts on how to get him to listen to you course through your mind, unsure of what to do until one hits you like a freight train. 

Taehyun watches in confusion as you reach for your hair, unsure of what to make of the sly smile on your face— it’s only once he sees the pretty bow unravel from your head that his eyes widen in understanding. 

“Oh no,” he mutters, your smile only growing wider as you reach for his hands— he retaliates, bringing his wrists together and just outside your reach, “oh hell no, c’mon!”

“Give me your hands,” you huff, lips pressing together in annoyance as he shakes his head and puts them over his head instead, just out of your reach, “give me your hands or I walk out right now.”

Taehyun knows how you are. You’re completely serious about that. 

“C’monnnn,” he groans, reluctantly offering his hands out for you to take. He watches with a petulant look as you wrap the ribbon around his wrists, tying them together so quickly he’s barely able to process what you’re doing, “please, I just wanna touch you.”

You ignore him, adding the final touch with careful hands; the bow on his wrists is just as pretty as the proud smile on your face, he notes bitterly. 

“Perfect,” you murmur to yourself, pushing his bound hands against his chest, holding onto them for leverage as you begin to move again; you can practically see all the thoughts leave his mind as he feels you around him, sucking him in and clenching with each prod against your sweet spot, hips angling so you’re hitting it perfectly. 

With a cruel curiosity, you shift on top of him, a hand holding his wrists down while the other drags his shirt up— though expected, you can’t help but whistle at the sight, running a hand over his abs, watching eagerly as he flinches from the contact. Without much of a thought, you bend down to place a kiss on his stomach, laughing at the soft whine you get in return. Sitting back up, you go back to the pace you set before, satisfied by the flustered man you see beneath you. 

Your nails are digging into his wrists; the orgasm he took from you is quickly building back up, your lips swollen and shining from how bitten they are— your cunt gushes around him, a ring beginning to form at the base of his length; Taehyun’s eyes roll back at the sight. 

The pretty moans you’re letting out and the tight grip your pussy has on him is making it impossible for him to last— he’s only a bit behind you as you feel your knees begin to become weak, your pace inconsistent as you grind on him in search of more.

“M’close… fuck…” you breathe out, hovering over Taehyun and caging him in— the roles have been reversed now, your elbows on each side of his head holding you up as you press yourself against him, your pace agonizingly slow as you lean down to kiss him— it’s sloppy and neither of you are entirely in your right minds, pathetically moaning into each other’s mouths the closer to your peak you get.

It’s nice to feel the heat of your body against his, but what you’re doing now simply isn’t enough for Taehyun. And though he knows you strictly forbade him, he can’t help himself from reaching down to grab your side, startling you and forcing you to sit up in confusion. 

“Sorry, I just— I’m so close, I need more,” he says, fingers digging into your side and thighs flexing beneath you— his brows furrow in concentration and next thing you know, he’s fucking up into you. 

The yelp you let out only makes Taehyun’s cock twitch inside you— you sound so good like this, overwhelmed and ruined, unable to stop or control the way he bucks his hips up into you, his hands on your side forcing you to come down on him with every thrust— you’re falling forward and pressing down on his chest in an attempt to not lay on him entirely, and Taehyun thinks that he might’ve just gotten the sight of you bouncing on top of him ingrained into his mind now.

“Oh fuck, you keep fucking squeezing me— are you close? Yeah? I am too,” he moans, watching as you hang your head and dig your nails into his skin— you’re both soooo close, Taehyun can feel it— and before he can second guess himself, words spill from his mouth in a desperate haste. 

“Can I cum inside you?” he asks, your eyes snapping open at the question— they meet his stupid, shiny round eyes, turned completely glassy as he tilts his head, his pace never ceasing for a second. “Can I, can I please? You’re so pretty, feel so good, c’mon, just wanna fill you up like you deserve—”

“Shit, yeah,” you whine, not needing much convincing in the first place to agree. “Fill me up, c’mon tyunnie, wanna be full—!”

The sound of the cute nickname coming from you sets Taehyun off instantly; his cock bottoms out and his hand slams your body down, your faint gasp barely registering in his mind as he finally cums— and it’s so much, spurts and spurts of warm cum filling you up and setting you off seconds after. 

When Taehyun feels your cunt fluttering around him, he helps you ride it out; even if it means his eyes get watery and his cock hurts with every thrust into you. He still does it, the overstimulation a small price to pay for being able to watch you fall apart on top of him, moaning out his name so nicely that he never wants it to be said by anyone that’s not you from now on. 

You’re an out of breath, sweaty mess by the time you finally come to your senses— well, kind of. You’d still rather not accept that womanizing student athlete Taehyun finally succeeded in getting in your pants. Maybe now he’ll finally leave you alone; you try to ignore the disappointed pang you get in your stomach from the thought. 

Beneath you, Taehyun simply pants, eyes closed in a sweet bliss; when they open back up, he looks at you with such fondness you can’t help but startle. 

“Can I take you out on a date?”

Your eyes widen, and you try to pretend as though the question doesn’t immediately lift up your mood. (Though the way your lips quirk up in an amused smile is definitely a giveaway.)

“You ask this now?” you say, crossing your arms and letting out a soft tsk, “I feel like it’s supposed to go the other way around.”

Taehyun smiles, and you can’t resist the contagious sight.

“I know. Sorry for being so irresistible.”

Your smile drops.

“Just for that, I’m saying no.”

“Waitwaitwait—” You make a move to get off Taehyun, but are stopped immediately with his hands on your side, forcing you to stay put the best you can— he tugs you back into him, cradling your face and ignoring your protests to let go.

“I lied, I didn’t mean it, I’m sorry,” he coos, smiling at the way you continue to glare at him; so cute, he thinks, unable to stop himself from craning his neck up and placing a peck on your lips— you melt instantly, giggling softly and placing a peck of your own on the tip of his nose.

“I’ll see you after practice then.”

[lurochar]

Scarf

You get fluff, you get fluff, you all get the fluff!

----------------------------------

“Sorry,”

Alastor bristled, pacing around his room as he recalled the earlier words Charlie had thrown his way.

“But I'm going to be REALLY, REALLY busy with Y/N today.”

It had been going on for days now, both Charlie and his Darling not giving him, the hotelier of all demons, an explanation, for what they were doing or what ‘business’ they had with each other.

He even asked Vaggie and even she was at a loss at what they could be up to.

He trusted his dear Doe, he really did, but he felt his eyes black out and his ears flatten against his head and his antlers growing when he found his shadow could not sneak into the room Charlie and his Darling occupied.

What could they possibly be doing that Charlie went so far to block his shadow magic?

Were they…?

No.

His Darling would never.

Charlie wouldn't–

Alastor slipped into his bayou, feeling his form rip into something much more demonic. 

He needed to hunt, hunt, hunt, hunt, and eat.

~♡♡~

It was done.

It was finally done.

It took days and you had almost given up a few times, but with Charlie's constant encouragement, you had persevered and finished, much to your and her delight.

In all honesty, as it was your first project, it was probably a bit rough-looking, but Alastor appreciated anything homemade over mass-produced items and you were sure he would welcome the thought.

You moved towards his room just a little quicker in excitement.

“Alastor?”

You cautiously knocked on his door, jumping when it opened almost immediately and said deer demon appeared.

“Alastor!?”

Blood dripped to the floor and you blinked in shock as pupils shaped as radio dials stared down at you rather intensely.

“D̵̥̞̰͖ͩ͐͐̀͠_̩ͅa͈ͤ̂̃̎̀̀r̶̢̡͙͈̄ͤ̐ͮ̍̈ͮ͟͠͞.̵̵̘̮͚͊ͫͤ.̘ͭ.̠͙̬ͭ̾͑.̢̩̮̝̰̽ͯ̕_̨͕̈̽.̛̮̄ͬͮ.̬͔̬͋͗͊ĺ̨̢̞͉͉ͣ͜in͕̊͑g̷̨̝̜͍̭̎͑̐̆̀̕” Alastor rasped, “D̝̳ͨ͢a̤͔͔̥͆̋̋͆͘̚̕͠r̄̑l̴̨̧͈̹͓̆͒̊͆ͮͨ̓̕͜i̧̮͖̻͖̱ͦͯͭ́ͤ͢ṇ̈́̂_̞̻̟͒͛ͭ̎ͮ̚ģ̢̩ͮͭ̀͐,̞̖ͫ̏̑͘ j̷̧̺͇̈́̃ȏ͉͓͇̃̃̀̌̊͠í̛̞͈̩͖͕̈͆ͫ͒͌̚n̝̞͈͍̼̉̓͋͗ͯ̅̕̚͟͡ m̨̗̟̱ͣ͒ͣͮe̵̞̜̯͓̥ͭ͗͒ͮ̈́ f̙̟͈͕̘̮̕o͗̊ͤ̔̍̉r̛͈̰̮̭ͭ̂̈́̑͜ dì̵̗ͧ͠n̷̼̻͈̘̹̯͋̂ͬ̆̇ͬ͡n̷̢͇͆ͫ̅͊ͣ͘̕è̹͂ͨ͢r̴̨̨̪̫͈̫̍͑ͤͨ_,̴̳̝̊̓̆ͥ w̧̪̙on̢̻̜̞̄̊̎͂́͢͝ͅ'̢̞́̅ͥ͗̍̕͢t̵͎̗̮̘͚̼͇̞̐ͣ̀ͪ͡ ẙ͓̯̍̆o̜̒͂ų̸̙̩̟̓́͆̓́̓͛͝?̬͇̳̀̆́͂ͬͮ̾͠” The static surrounding his voice was almost deafening and his appearance was utterly terrifying. “Ô̗r̵̢̛̰̬̊ͪ̊͗͢͞ a̶̴̸̢̯̳̗̓̈́̆̕͢͢r̷ḛ y̨̨͖͉̰͒̄̓̓ͯͫ̀o̦̻͍͙͚ͫ͝u̖͔͇̽͒ s͓̲̗̺̉͌̓t̨̨͎̩͈̒ͥ̽ͤͨͩ͠i̵̡̩̯ͨ̅̍̀ͪ̕͝ĺ̶̼̊̕͢l̵̹͙̘̟͈̘ͥ̈͌͊̚ b̻̲̘̯̈̈͆̈́͛̋ͧ̀̒́͊u̢̧̲͈̳̓ͦ͋̅͒̀ͬ̈͟͞ś̘̫̪̆̃ͥ̽͘y̞̬̲̎̂͗́̇̓̕ wi̱̯̥ͬͦ̀̑̄́͊̆t̩̠̹̲̟h̢͙̋̑̑̕͡ C̲h̵̢͈̳̟̫ͮ́̿̌̾ͪͩa̭͆ͮ͂ͥͨr̸̴̤ͭ̆͆̈̇l̢ͧ̾o̢̢͉̬͔̍ͤ̂̄͠t̠̹ͮ͞t̷̸̸̢̡͔̪͖̩̖̟ͩ̈̐͠e̷̛̳̥͍̫̊ͬ̚͟?̷̲͔̻̣͇̒̊̊̎͌̆͌”

You swallowed thickly.

“I-I’m done with Charlie,” you twiddled the package in your hands and Alastor’s eyes were swiftly drawn to the sound of the crinkle it caused. “I’m sorry it took so long. I… I wasn’t so good at this – but Charlie wasn’t either! S-so that’s why it took so long!” You flushed when Alastor’s expression slowly turned from frightening into something resembling bemusement, “Just… just take it!” 

You shoved the package into his chest.

“D̵̥̞̰͖ͩ͐͐̀͠_̩ͅa͈ͤ̂̃̎̀̀r̶̢̡͙͈̄ͤ̐ͮ̍̈ͮ͟͠͞.̵̵̘̮͚͊ͫͤ.̘ͭ.̠͙̬ͭ̾͑.̢̩̮̝̰̽ͯ̕..ling?” The baffled grin on Alastor’s face was almost endearing as his body shrunk into his more normal form. “What�� is this for? It is not my birth date nor do I believe it is a holiday for gift giving.”

“It’s not, not yet. I…I just wanted to do this for you. Charlie likewise for Vaggie, so she helped me practise, so that’s why we did it secretly.” You flushed deeper and fiddled with your fingers. “I’m sorry, I wanted to keep it a surprise from you.”

Alastor’s eyes zeroed in on your flushed cheeks, unsure of his mixed feelings of irritation or surprise gratitude. However, his earlier hunt of the animals in his bayou had, thankfully, gotten rid most of the anger he had been feeling. “I thank you, dearest. May I open it?”

“Yes…! Yes.”

Hmm, adorable. You seemed so excited.

It was a simple package, in simple brown paper and he was careful as he sliced through it with a single claw and you watched with wide anticipating eyes when he finally lifted his gift up to observe it thoroughly.

A knitted scarf.

A knitted scarf with a little deer embroidered on the very edge.

“Darling,” Alastor tilted his head, “Did you make this yourself?” He watched as you scrunched into yourself and nodded quietly. 

“I know… I know it’s nothing compared to Hell’s high fashion brands and you don’t have to wear it if you don’t like it!” You said quickly, “I just thought–”

“Thought what, my little Doe?” Alastor grinned, wrapping the scarf around his neck, causing you to choke on nothing. “Now where was I? Oh yes! Inviting you to join me for dinner?” He held out his hand towards you and his expression softened slightly as your flush came back once again once his fingers intertwined within your own.

“Thank you for the lovely gift, Darling~”

“Y-you’re welcome, Alastor.”

[withahappyrefrain]

for the lil prompt list: thinking of our beloved Bob and fixing the others clothing when something is a little bit off (particularly when it’s you doing it to him when he’s in uniform for one reason or another) he’d be so endeared by you :(

Stop he would!!! 😭😭😭

You couldn't have been prouder of Bob. After the mission at Top Gun, he and several others in the squad were being rewarded with a medal of honor.

It meant getting to support your boyfriend. As well as (selfishly) seeing him in uniform.

Bob liked to keep his work and personal life strictly separated. Coming home in his flight suit was a rarity. It was why he had yet to introduce you to his coworkers turned friends.

That and because selfishly, he didn't want to share you.

But today, your own desires triumphed over Bob's. Dressed in his Navy whites, chest adorned by the medals he had already received from previous deployments.

He always looked handsome, like a movie star from the Golden Age. But something about his slicked back hair, face stoic as he stood proud and tall, had you unable to focus on anything else besides Bob.

Once the ceremony ended and the honorees were free to mingle with loved ones, you became laser focused on getting to your boyfriend.

Due to the crowd of what had to be his coworkers, Bob wasn't able to see you waving as you walked towards him.

Your voice would just have to do.

"Bobby!"

Bob looked over Jake's shoulder to see you, an absolute vision in your sun dress, waving excitedly at him.

Ignoring the confused remarks from his colleagues, Bob practically pushed Jake aside, all but running over to you.

Seeing him for the first time in eight weeks had your self control thrown out the window. You threw your arms around his neck, nearly knocking over his hat as your lips pressed against his.

The medals were pressing against your skin but quite frankly, you couldn't find it in yourself to care. You were far too busy reveling in his kiss; his soft lips that were becoming reacquainted with yours, his large palms steadying your body since you all but threw yourself onto him, the delightful scent of sage flooding your nostrils once more.

Bob registered the gawking his coworkers were doing, but he didn't care. Eight weeks was a long time, particularly when he wasn't sure if he would come back from this mission.

He could only hope that you didn't feel the small ring-sized box that was in his pocket.

After breaking apart for much needed air, you beamed as you took him in; blue eyes shining brighter than the sun, his hat now sitting at an angle on his head, pink lips formed into a smile that could best be described as lovesick.

God you loved him.

"I'm so proud of you Bobby," you beamed, your fingers gently adjusting his hat, "and I'm glad others are recognizing how incredible you are."

Bob was at a loss for words, enamored by the way you mindlessly fixed his uniform as you sung his praises. It was an action you had always done, something you didn't even think about. In fact, it was that endearing gesture that caused you to meet Bob. And despite dating for such a long time, it made Bob's heart flutter every time.

You showed your love for him so effortlessly, pouring it into every action, no matter how small.

"Bobby?" You giggled, "You good?"

"Yeah," he chuckled, warmth flooding his body, "Just in love with you, that's all."

He made you want to kick your feet like a school girl. Instead, you settled for placing your hands on his upper back and pressing another loving kiss to his lips.

"Why don't we go meet your squad? I can hear their questions," you chuckled, knowing the team was currently arguing over how long you and Bob had been together.

Bob looked over, wincing at the sight of his coworkers arguing over an apparent bet about him. His grip on your waist tightened.

"Maybe not just yet. Don't want your first impression to be Bradley and Hangman arguing."

You simply smiled, fingers toying with one of his many medals, "That's fine."

Leaning in, your breath was hot on his ear, "Gives me more time to admire you in this uniform."

Maybe they would skip the meeting altogether and head straight home.

[novemberheart]

{overview} you make some friends- and some not friends

{warnings} a/b/o dynamics, Simon being a grump, cursing, short chapter, mostly some “world-building”, Fem reader, Simon heavy chapter

Chapter 8 <- Chapter 9 -> Chapter 10

Simon woke you up the next morning, with a rough series of pats on your back. You groaned curling around yourself, the smell of leather slowly filling up your senses.

“This day isn't going to fuck itself,” Simon grumbled. Your eyes opened groggily, sending him a glare.

“What does that even mean?” you croaked, forcing yourself to sit up. Simon bit back a smile at the sight of your bedhead. He was able to snap a picture as you stared off into space. He sent it to Johnny, who quickly made it his lock screen.

“Up, pup,” he commanded, getting up himself. He moved with much more ease, only wincing as he took a few steps forward. “Got a busy day,” he added. By the time his words settled in your ears, he had already made his way into his bedroom.

“Busy day?” you questioned to yourself as you brushed your teeth. “Where are we going?” you asked. Simon was able to shower, shave, and get dressed by the time you finished brushing your teeth and picking out an outfit.

“Something the omega committee planned. Breakfast in the park or some shite like that. Captain wants you to go.” he explained.

“I don't want to.” you began to whine.

“Ah, ah, ah don't start pulling that shite with me, it's not gonna work. Put your stompers on, and let's go.” he growled. You straightened up, a little worried at his tone. Why did he sound so angry? Regardless, you quickly did as you were told, grabbing your shoes out of the closet and following wordlessly behind him.

You wanted to ask him more about this ‘breakfast in the park’ thing but you refrained. Nervousness began to eat at you, as it would for most people when you were being thrown into a group of people you have never met. The omegas there have probably already formed cliques. Not that you weren't used to being the new person. You didn't quite feel as though you could tell the alpha next to you about it.

At least it was a pretty sunny day out.

The walk wasn't very far, and it wasn't exactly a park. It was near where Simon took you for a walk. There was a bit of a crowd already, sitting down on their own blankets. Simon pulled out a blanket that was tucked under his arm. “Look at me,” he instructed. “No reason for you to be nervous, yeah? They're lucky to have you, I think, I mean I don't really know you that well.” he huffed, causing you to giggle. “See the group behind me?” he asked. You peeked around him.

“Pink blanket?” you hummed. He hummed back.

“You steer clear of ‘em. They get into trouble.” he told, and you nodded your head in understanding. “I'll be right over there havin’ a cig, you go be a good girl and save me a scone, yeah?” he patted you with the blanket. You took it from him, watching as he headed past you, without a glance over his shoulder. You rolled your eyes but felt much better about the situation. You guess Simon was much more tough love than you were used to. You stood for a moment surveying the area. People were cliqued up all right. You decided just to head in the opposite direction of the pink blanket gang.

You grabbed a plate off of one of the tables and decided on a cinnamon roll and a scone for Simon. You also grabbed a hot chocolate. You pulled off to the side eyeing the array of people. A particular group caught your eye. Two women and a man. They seemed approachable like they wouldn't shoot you down if you went up to them. Only one way to find out. You followed the natural path set up by blankets.

They stopped talking as you stood before them. “Hi.” You smiled, trying not to sound too shy. You introduced yourself in one breath waiting for them to make the next move.

“Hi, I'm Anais.” the one in the middle introduced herself first. She was sweet-looking, her glasses taking up most of her face and magnifying her eyes in an endearing way.

“I’m Jane.” the one to your right looked. She looked just as uncomfortable as you, her obsidian eyes darting around.

“Jonah.” the last one greeted. “You're welcome to join us.” he offered, which you quickly took them up on.

“The worst part is over.” Anais smiled, adjusting herself so she was sitting on her knees. “When did you get here?”

“Four days ago,” you replied.

“I got here six days ago,” Jane spoke up. Her voice was soft and brittle. You were tempted to give her a hug.

“Ah, so you know what it's like.” you smiled. “How long have you two been here?” you asked, spooning a piece of cinnamon roll into your mouth.

“Seven months,” Jonah answered.

“A little under three months for me,” Anais said.

“Nice. Do you like it here?” you questioned. You were hoping to get the dirt on people.

“Not really. You're lucky you're with big guy over there.” Anais said through bites of her toast. “Do you really have your own flat?” she questioned. Looks like you were going to be the one giving out dirt.

“Yeah it's pretty close to that. Where do you live?”

“In the barracks,” Anais said. “It's a room filled with bunk beds.”

“That sounds terrible.” you winced. “Do you get any privacy?”

“Not really. Unless it's during my heat.” she shrugged. “That's usually what happens when you're just bonded to an alpha, not a whole pack,” she explained. “I hope to get my pack one day. You're lucky you didn't have to work for yours.” she sighed. Your brows twitched.

“Anais,” Jonah whispered harshly. She just shrugged. How did she know anything about you and your pack? There was obviously something you weren't aware of.

“It's alright.” you soothed, giving Jonah a smile. “She’s technically right.” you sighed.

“I didn't mean it in a bad way.” Anais continued. “Just that you're lucky,” she added. You have been hearing that a lot lately.

“I know.” you agreed. You figured it was better to play along. Plus you seem to be lucky. “Did you get assigned here or?” you asked, turning over to Jane.

“Assigned.”

“Me too.” you replied.

“I know,” she whispered, causing you to furrow your brows again.

“Does everybody know?” you finally asked.

“You have been a hot topic,” Jonah admitted. You looked over your shoulder and suddenly became aware of the glances and peeks your way. Has everyone been staring at you this whole time? “Don't stress about it,” Jonah added.

“Yeah, you're literally a celebrity,” Anais added.

“I don't know if I want to be a celebrity.” you said finally.

“I’ll trade with you. I'm not really into guys, but I’d do it for fame.” Jonah chuckled, causing you all to laugh.

“I'll let you know after I finish my first week.” you snickered. An hour went by fairly fast. The group next to you joined into the conversation and soon you were a nice group of seven. Priya- she was the one you bonded to quickly. You started talking because she also was with a task force, her choice, on the sixth floor of your building.

She smelled like apples and lavender. Your mom smelled like lavender.

“How’d you do?” Simon asked. He stood up from the bench, eyeing you up and down. You certainly smelled happy. Your scent turned warm when you were happy. Your normal scent was freshly cut peaches paired with a chilled vanilla ice cream. Yet when you were happy it became a peach crumble straight out of the oven. He chewed the inside of his cheek, moving so he was upwind.

Before you had time to respond something caught his attention. “Come on, pup.” he urged. His hand rested on the back of your neck guiding you away from the scene. You had the sense of mind to not question him, which he was grateful for.

“Lieutenant Ghost.” A voice called from behind the two of you. He growled, stopping, but keeping a firm grip on you as he began to turn.

“Lieutenant Hale.” Simon mustered.

“So this must be the little lady I've been hearin’ so much about.” He was Southern, a charming drawl in his voice.

“She would be the one.” Simon affirmed. His hand reached down, grabbing your hip pulling you towards his side.

“Haven’t smelt something so sweet in a long time. You remind me of home.” Lieutenant Hale smiled at you. You remained straight-face, your omega beginning to feed off of the signals Simon was sending out. “How have you been, L.T.? Heard you took a nasty tumble.” Hale clicked his tongue.

“Fine.” Simon replied bluntly.

“Well, I would hope so. Medicine like that could heal any man.” Hale smirked, his eyes still locked on you.

“Got that right,” Simon said back. The men were keeping pleasantries- probably for your sake. Simon gave your hip a squeeze. “See you around, Hale.” The hand on the back of your neck returned, turning you away from the scene.

“I look forward to it. Both of you,” he added, tipping his head towards you. You remained silent. When you got far enough away you looked back over your shoulder. Two of the girls from the pink blanket rushed over to him, nuzzling their way under his arms.

His eyes were still on you.

“You did good, pup.” Simon complimented once you got away from the crowd.

“Thank you.”

It was two hours past your normal bedtime. The first two nights here you were so exhausted you fell asleep as soon as your head hit the pillow. The third night you fell asleep on the couch with everyone.

It felt like the first night here.

You can still remember the last night you slept alone. It was the night before your mom left. The night she left you remember her sneaking her way into your bedroom, holding you as tight as she could. You could still feel her breath on your cheek as she breathed you in. You didn't question it at the time.

You wish you had.

That day your grandparents came down to help out and you slept in the guestroom with them- terrified of being left again. Then you got step-siblings, then roommates at the omega holding house.

You scrunched your eyes tightly.

Your room was too dark. Too quiet. Too cold. It had yet to be drenched in your scent, the room still smelling like paint and carpet cleaner. You wondered if Johnny or Kyle would mind you crashing their room. You're sure they wouldn't, but you didn't want to set yourself up for rejection. You could always crash on the couch with Simon. You didn't want him to think you were too needy.

You suddenly heard movement outside your door. You stilled, pulling the covers further up your body. Your door opened very hesitantly. John carefully poked his head in. You closed your eyes as much as you could to make it look realistic. He trained his eyes on your form for a moment before he quietly shut the door. The realization suddenly dawned on you.

He was checking on you.

You weren't exactly sure why he was checking on you. To see if you were still awake? To see if you were comfortable? Or maybe to make sure you hadn’t escaped.

Either way, it meant one thing:

You weren't alone.

Hi friends! Hope you enjoyed this chapter! Chapter 10 will be in two days! See you then!

Likes, reblogs and comments are always appreciated🧡

[shakingparadigm]

I'm really enjoying these new glimpses of Till where he seems rather calm? Naturally he still has big feelings and expresses them accordingly, but compared to past instances it's a lot less explosive.

Most of Ivan and Till's fights seem to happen when they're younger. This is most likely because they weren't familiar with each other yet and were still at the age where most things were taken at face value. They're still getting used to each other's "strangeness", and that could be the cause for certain misunderstandings.

By the time Ivan started developing his "attractive" persona, he was much more aware of what made Till tick. Instead of toning down on his behavior, he used it to his advantage.

Throughout childhood, all Ivan knew was that if he performed certain actions he would get a response from Till (whether he intended it or not). Their shenanigans were incredibly childish, but they made a prominent impact on Ivan's perspective. His thoughts gradually transitioned from "I didn't know" to "oh. this is what I need to do so that Till will notice me."

Despite maturing a great amount and presenting a princely image to everyone else, Ivan never grew up when it came to Till. He continued to apply the same tactics from childhood just to keep Till's attention.

This is why the Anakt Diaries mention that though Ivan is mature for his age, he acts childishly when he's with Till. It's what he knows best.

As they grew older, they both became more fine-tuned to certain aspects regarding each other. Ivan understood what would get a rise out of Till and began messing with him on purpose, hoping to get a reaction. Unfortunately for him, Till started getting used to it (for the most part).

Despite his rebelliousness and bold expression, Till is timid when it comes to people. He only attacks when provoked, and unfortunately for someone as sensitive as him, that's quite often. Ivan took great joy in poking and prodding at him until they resorted to pulling hairs.

However, an older Till seems much less inclined to attack a pestering Ivan. In fact, he seems to brush it off suprisingly well. Of course he reacts, but he no longer reacts violently.

He goes back to a neutral (probably mildly annoyed, definitely weirded out) state almost immediately afterwards. The important part is that no hands are thrown. At this point, it's been years of Ivan and Till knowing each other. Till has watched Ivan grow from this gloomy little boy to the literal "Prince Charming" of Anakt, yet one thing has always remained the same: Ivan stayed by his side. Whether they like it or not, being close for so long will eventually endear someone to another. Thanks to the Ivan Exposure Therapy (and probably a bit of his own growing maturity), Till isn't so phased by Ivan's antics anymore. At the very least he seems to reply instead of taking full offense, poking fun at Ivan's lack of a birthday instead of just saying no. Older Till seems less irritated and more like he's just exasperated. Familiar, accustomed to Ivan's presence.

@geospiral already made a great post about what Ivan's side of this whole development might have been like. It's really interesting, so I recommend checking it out!

[loganhowlettshousewife]

animal

chapter 2

friendly reminder that i am not a writer, i'm just a girl who loves logan howlett and wanted to write something exploring his animalistic side since i so rarely see it done. my first language is also not english, so please do not be rude when giving me any feedback.

warnings: mentions of blood

series masterlist │my masterlist

you wake up slowly, blinking sluggishly at the ceiling. your memories of the previous day come rushing in, and you can’t help but wonder if it was all some kind of fever dream. but when you sit up in bed, that thought is immediately thrown away, because logan is curled up on the floor watching you, staring.

“how long have you been awake?” you ask, rubbing the sleep from your eyes. he just tilts his head, listening but giving you no indication of the answer to your question.

you’d set him up in the guest bedroom last night. he had laid down on top of the covers, the same way he was positioned on your floor now, and though you had wanted to pull the covers over his body, you decided to let him do what was most comfortable, most natural, to him. you had already thrown quite a bit of new his way, best to let him process it all.

you don’t know at what point he’d migrated from the guest room to your floor, but he’s here now. he had been watching you sleep. a wave of anxiety washes over you - what do you look like when you sleep? do you drool? is it unattractive?

(they’re certainly not the thoughts you should be having when a man you hardly know watches you sleep, but he’s hot and oddly endearing.)

he rises up to his feet only seconds after you, and you have to tell him not to follow you into the bathroom, to which he growls.

later, you’re sitting at the table with logan, eating the breakfast you’d cooked up. you had to teach him how to use a fork, which was terribly entertaining, and even now he looks dismayed at not being able to eat with his hands, having to pick up the food with a metal instrument instead. he stabs the fork loudly every time he brings it down, as if to communicate his disapproval, but he doesn’t look truly angry, just pouty.

“are you going to follow me around all day again?” you ask, “because i don’t mind, but i just wanted to let you know that i have quite a few things on my to-do list.”

he stops eating, stares at you for a few seconds, nods, and then continues as if you hadn’t spoken. 

one of your favourite parts of living outside of a city is the nature, the space, the green that surrounds you with your favourite thing: plants. your grandmother had taken care of a gorgeous garden of fruits and vegetables and herbs for as long as you could remember, teaching a starry-eyed child version of you everything she knew. you’re the one left with the responsibility now.

you clean the dishes, humming to yourself, logan behind you, and when you’re done, you lead him outside. you bask in the sunlight of the outdoors, each step in the dewy grass a thrill. there’s a morning chill in the air, the new-day sun having not quite warmed your surroundings yet.

you remind logan to be careful of where he steps, talking him through your long list of things for him not to do, so lost in the one-sided conversation that you don’t even notice when he stops before the garden starts. you look back at him, confused that he’s not trailing you anymore, but he doesn’t leave either, he just sits down on the grass.

a warmth blooms in your chest. you don’t know his thoughts or his intentions, but you want to think he stopped because he could tell how much you didn’t want him messing with the plants, your domain, the happy place of your childhood. 

the best part about assuming these things about logan is that he can’t correct you, so you can create a little version of him in your head that thinks about you and looks at you the way you look at him. it’s been two days - not even, it’s been a day and a half. could you be any more pathetically starved of love and affection?

well, no, you think to yourself.

it doesn’t take you long to finish up the watering and weeding, checking around for any more problems that you might not catch at first glance. you take your time harvesting what you can, placing it all in two cute woven baskets you brought out with you.

you’re already thinking of the food you could make for logan, giddy with excitement at finally getting to feed someone other than yourself. you love taking care of others, it’s one of your love languages, or maybe it’s just a way for you to feel needed in the hopes that people won’t leave you if you do enough for them. either way, you’ve always genuinely enjoyed cooking, but you can’t do it as much when there’s only one person in the house to feed.

and logan had eaten a lot, last night. he’s big, of course, it’s to be expected, but you suppose you haven’t been close enough with anyone to share food in a while, so it’s strange.

when you return to logan’s side, smiling brightly, he smiles back at you. it’s the first smile you’ve seen on his face, the first expression other than a snarl, a look of confusion, or the expressionless stare he directs towards you. and wow, it lights up his features, turns everything soft, like the world has blurred just slightly, the kind of unclear image that tells you you’re in a dream.

“you’re pretty when you smile,” you say without meaning to. but with the way he brightens even more at the praise, purring in contentment, you don’t regret it.

he doesn’t do much the entire day, just follows you as you go through your list of chores. he’s always careful not to get in your way.

by evening, you can feel the pent-up energy and tension inside him, but he’s so good at pretending it isn’t there that you’re sure you wouldn’t have noticed if not for having seen him when he was truly relaxed. you feel guilty, cooping him up inside when there’s clearly some part of him that’s feral, making him act more like an animal than human like you.

you don’t live the most exciting life, it’s not fast-paced and entertaining and it definitely doesn’t keep you on your toes guessing what might happen next. you prefer the quiet, the comfort of a familiar routine, doing domestic chores and reading by the fireplace. it’s monotonous, but it’s something you can rely on, something that won’t change on you.

logan longs for something your life can’t provide.

he’s gazing out the open windows, at the forest from which you’d first seen him emerge, something in his eyes that you can’t decipher. and you realise that maybe you can give him what he needs. you live out in the middle of nowhere, animals roaming free in those woods, far from other people. in between two worlds, just like logan.

“you know you don’t have to follow me all the time,” you say gently, meeting him by the window, “nothing will happen if you go outside for a while. you can go, run free, and i’ll be here when you come back.”

he contemplates for a while and you wait, patient, hoping you come across as reassuring, that he knows you’re being genuine. it’s funny to think that when you first saw him you’d wanted him to leave.

he does go, eventually, after going through the entire house and sniffing around like he was searching for some kind of threat. so you sit on your couch with a book and a cup of tea, reading about silly little characters falling in love.

when logan comes back he’s shirtless, smelling of sweat and musk, chest heaving. he looks the best you’ve ever seen him, and not just because the sweat is making his skin glisten and you can see his perfect abs. something about him has changed, though it's not something physical. he didn’t have to hold back, was able to release all the tension you know must have been clinging to him since yesterday, or even longer. (you still don’t know his backstory.)

he curls up on the other side of the couch to you, and you spend the rest of the night with a hand in his hair, scratching his head occasionally to listen to his pleased purrs.

a week goes by and you fall into somewhat of a routine. logan clings to you less, though he still prefers to be in the same room as you most of the time. he goes out into the forest to run and sometimes to hunt, coming back with blood staining his clothes.

although the first few tries failed miserably, you’ve gotten quite good at removing bloodstains from fabric, which is not a skill you ever imagined yourself perfecting. 

it’s been a while since your last visit to town, and you need to go pick up a few things, not just for yourself but for logan too.

“logan,” you call for him as you’re grabbing a few last things to throw in your bag. he bounds up to you as usual. sometimes he reminds you so much of a cute puppy that you get the urge to pet him and call him “good boy” but you don’t know how he would take that, so you refrain.

“i need to leave for a bit,” you say, “just like how you leave sometimes. i’ll be back soon, just need to get a few things.”

he grumbles and pouts as you leave but doesn’t stop you. he does stare longingly at you from through the window, you catch the sight as you’re driving out.

the closest town to your house is small, but it has all the necessities. you pick up some groceries, things you can’t make or grow yourself. and then you need to get clothes for logan. you had eyed his measurements, taking note of the size of his body, though you didn’t know them exactly. it’s still better than him continuing to wear clothes that don’t fit him. 

although most days he prefers not to wear a shirt. because he wants to torture you, clearly.

it’s a good kind of torture, the kind that produces butterflies in your stomach and brings heat to your face. you try not to ogle him, not wanting to objectify him or make him uncomfortable, but when he catches you staring he only ever comes closer, pressing up against you.

you could have brought him with you, but you weren’t sure it was a good idea. he’s a mutant, you guessed that pretty quickly on the first night, and people aren’t very kind to mutants. especially small-minded, small-town folks. and though logan’s appearance isn’t damning on its own, his behaviours clearly show the animal side of him.

he doesn’t need to deal with awful people and their awful comments. you want to protect him from that as much as you can.

you normally take your time meandering around the town, stopping at your favourite bookstore to pick up some new reads, grabbing a horribly overpriced coffee as a treat, maybe even sitting on a bench in the park, enjoying your drink and novel as you watch children run around and play, parents shouting after them, dogs barking in excitement. 

but today, you itch to return home. there’s a tight feeling in your chest, a loneliness you haven’t felt in a long time, and it calls out logan’s name, pleading for you to return to him. you still stop by the bookstore, and if you’re more attracted towards the romance novels with a supernatural, animalistic love interest this time around, that’s for you and the cashier who rings you up to know.

you’re beaming when you return home, parking the car and grabbing your bags to bring them inside. your smile falters when logan doesn’t greet you at the door. you peak into the living room to find it empty as well.

it saddens you, but you assume he went out into the forest for a while. it makes sense that he wouldn’t want to stay cooped up in the house with nothing to entertain him while you were gone. you had formed a scenario in your mind where logan would rush towards you when you returned, like a puppy who missed his owner.

when you finish putting away your groceries, you head towards your bedroom. pushing the door open, you freeze, mouth parted and eyes going soft at the sight that greets you.

logan is curled up in your bed, fast asleep in the spot where you always sleep, face buried in your pillow. he’s under the blankets for once, and they curl around his shape to wrap him up in soft warmth.

you tip-toe towards the bed, careful not to wake him. you don’t know how long he’s been sleeping, and you wish you had a way to play back the scene of him crawling into your bed, untucking the sheets to slip under them, sniffing the bed to find the spot where he knew you slept, the place that smelled the most like you.

oh, you adore him.

it’s fast, terribly so, but he’s wormed his way into your heart. it’s not love yet, but you think you could grow to love him someday.

you sit on the bed, moving over until you’re by logan’s side. he looks so peaceful like this, and you bring your hand to his head, intending to give him the scratches he loves so much, when he wakes suddenly.

the next thing you know, you’re on your back, logan on top of you, claws at your neck. you blink up at him, everything happening so quickly that your brain hasn’t had time to catch up and tell you to scream or struggle or anything else one would typically do when you have sharp blades pointed at your throat.

it doesn’t matter, because logan’s eyes meet yours, and his claws retract into his knuckles. you relax into the mattress, leftover fear dissipating because you know he won’t hurt you. he was surprised, that’s all, and really you should know better than to sneak up on someone with clear, obvious trauma.

his lips twitch up for barely a second, not quite reaching a smile, and then his expression darkens as he leans forward to sniff you. he growls, a deep rumble in his throat, shoving his face into your neck.

you can feel the vibrations through your body from the proximity between you and logan. it’s different from when he purrs in your ear and you feel as though the sound penetrates your skin, finding its way into your bloodstream, forcing your heartbeat faster.

something’s wrong, you can tell. you’ve never seen him react to you this way. so you bring your arms up to wrap around his midsection, hands on his back, slow movements not to startle him.

“what’s wrong?” you ask in a gentle whisper, “did something happen while i was away.”

there’s another growl as he sniffs you again. he pushes his body closer to yours, chest to chest, one of his legs between yours. 

“mine,” logan says, followed by him pressing his face in your neck and licking and sucking at the skin. you gasp and squirm under him, but you don’t want him to stop, not really.

your mind is reeling. he spoke. a real word, one you recognise, passing through his lips, floating in the air between you. his voice is smooth, nothing like you expected, and yet it suits him.

you laugh. you can’t help it, you’re giddy. he pulls back when you laugh, still frowning, but you don’t care. the word is repeating in your head. “mine”, he’d called you, staking his claim both verbally as well as physically marking you as his. it’s terrible, you’ve known him only a week, yet you feel all warm and fuzzy, the room around you like a mirage. the only things that exist are you and logan and that word.

taglist: @mystiquesvendetta @raeinyourdreams @babey-fruit-bat @meetmypointlessaddiction @kneelforloki @deaky-with-a-c @hypermarvellove @littlepeanut03 @the-ruler-of-death @aliengutzstuff

[bcyhoods]

WITH FIREWORKS! STEVE

synopsis : after a date at the carnival, steve gives you your first kiss! (prompt: “was that your first kiss?”)

word count : 1.6k

author’s note : repost from my old blog! i fixed her up a little bit, endured changing past to present tense just for you so….

“Those games were totally rigged,” Steve huffs as he prods at the small teddy bear clutched in his hands.

You’re situated on the hood of his car, smiley lips tinged blue thanks to the half-eaten cone of cotton candy in your hands. Steve stands in between your legs with a pout as his free hand rests beside your thigh, finger itching to graze your skin as it taps the metal of his car. The summer sun has just dipped below the horizon, but his face is illuminated by the multicolored lights of the fair behind you. Even with a sullen attitude, he just looks so pretty.

It was only your third official date — excluding the weekly, hour-long visits to Family Video, which Robin made sure to tease him for — and Steve figured it was time to rattle his feathers, so to speak. He wanted to impress you by showing off his athleticism, and carnival games provided an exemplary opportunity to do just that.

He envisioned your arms full and occupied by the array of giant prizes he won for you. You’d watch with an endearing grin on your face every time he beat a game. The night would end with your arms thrown around his shoulders and the perfect kiss that had you both swooning.

With fireworks in the background, obviously.

But luck had strayed far away from Steve Harrington’s side. Far, far away.

“Oh, they were, were they?”

“Definitely. ‘You can only throw it with an underhand,’” Steve mocks the game attendant with a husky voice — a terrible impression, really, but he knew it’d make you laugh. “That’s a made up rule. For sure. I’ve never heard that rule before. Ridiculous.”

The boy sighs defeatedly, letting you take the bear from his hand before running his fingers through his, now disheveled hair. The brown locks had endured the torment throughout the night as he increasingly became more and more stressed. And he didn’t want to admit he was embarrassed, it felt entirely dramatic and silly. But he was, and the way he avoided your gaze while his teeth worried his bottom lip was enough of a tell.

He laughs meekly at himself and squeezes the bridge of his nose. “Sorry, I was trying so hard to win one of those gigantic bears — too hard.”

You hum as your eyes scan over the stuffie. It was no bigger than the length of your hand. Its body was stiff and straight and a tuft of cotton spilled out from under its right arm due to a couple frayed stitches. The ribbon around its neck was barely being held together with a glob of hot glue.

“I like this one, it’s cute.” At his scoff, you double down, “I’m serious! It’s got a lot of charm to it. It’s perfect.”

You move your attention from the bear to Steve only to find that he’s already looking at you. His gaze is incredibly soft, smile lines decorating the corners of his lips as his tongue is coyly tucked into his cheek. His eyes are brimming with love, you think you might burst the longer they’re on you. He finally lets himself graze the skin of your thighs as a subtle thank you. The attention was all-consuming, it made it hard for you to focus. It was hard to do much of anything really, with him looking at you like that.

Quickly, you clear your throat and look up into the sky in abrupt thought. “I think I’m going to name him…Eve.”

“Eve? Eve the bear?”

“Mmhmm,” you affirm with the wave of the cotton candy, “Eve ‘The Bear’ Bearington.”

A huff resembling a short laugh leaves his mouth as he drops his chin down. Lowly, he mutters, “You’re unbelievable,” before looking up at you again with a doting grin. He moves to shake the bear’s hand gingerly, holding it between his thumb and his index, and bowing his head.

“Nice to meet you, Eve. You’re looking a little rough, bud. Bad hangover?”

You scoff and protectively pull Eve into your chest as if it were a child. The chuckle that reverberates through his chest encourages your heart to dither as heat rises to the tips of your ears. “That was very rude, Harrington,” you reply, feigning shock while trying to fight off the smile creeping onto your lips. It doesn’t work.

“What? No, Eve didn’t think it was rude. I’ve been there before, I’m sure he appreciates my empathy,” Steve argues, eyes momentarily flitting to the cotton candy that sat untouched in your hand for the past few minutes. As he nonchalantly stretches his hand out to pull a piece of the sweet, you move your arm out of his reach.

He glares at you with a tilt of his head. You raise your eyebrows to challenge him.

“Bullies don’t get sweets.”

A small gasp emanates from him before his lips are twisting into an impish lopsided smile. He tsk’s and takes a small step back. “Well, that’s too bad…because it just tastes so,” he looks away innocently, “…much,” he pauses.

”…Better!” He lunges forward earning a yelp from you as one arm wraps around your waist while the other moves to grab at the cotton candy. His fingers curl into your sides, eliciting a fit of laughs and giggles to fall clumsily from your sugar-coated tongue which makes it that much harder to fight against him.

Albeit, you don’t cease, pushing against his shoulder and still trying to stretch your arm as far away from him as possible. But it was no use as he slightly lifted you up off the car for just a moment to pull you flush against him. Your legs reflexively wrap around his hips and once you drop the bear, your unoccupied hand grips a handful of his polo for stability. The action had taken you by surprise, being too distracted to push him away when he ducks his head down to take a bite of the candy floss.

“Yup, just as I thought. Ten times better,” he preaches, letting it dissolve on his tongue to savor the flavor.

You’re sure you look a mess. Your eyes must be glazed over complimented by your lips still parted in shock. Your chest is rising and falling in a quick, inconsistent pattern as you try to collect yourself. Again, Steve has thrown your train of thought completely off course.

“You suck,” you manage to say. It was a lame attempt at an insult. But the words were practically dripping with adoration, all he could do was smile.

“Yeah?”

You nod meekly.

You’re certain he can feel your heart thumping wildly against your ribcage, certain that even through the background carnival noises and both your uneven breaths, he could hear it, as well.

And despite being so sure of your dumbfounded expression, Steve thought you looked so beautiful like this. In disarray, your sweater fell off your shoulders to hang loosely on your arms and your hand is holding his shirt so tightly like it was a lifeline. His eyes dart to your lips to trace over your cupid’s bow before glancing back up to find your eyes.

And you thought he looked just as pretty. His nearness was entirely disorienting. You could smell the saccharine hint of stolen cotton candy mingled with his ever-prized Calvin Klein cologne. His hair had fallen handsomely over his forehead. The moles and freckles scattered across his face are more fascinating than ever as you count them until you reach his lips. How soft and inviting they looked.

You’re so completely enamored, you don’t even register when he leans in, brushing his lips against your own in a feather-light kiss. Your breath hitches in your throat and before you can even bring yourself back down to earth, he begins to pull away.

“Sorry, I thought…”

He moves to step away from you, but your legs tighten around him to keep him in place as your fingers wrap around the wrist on your waist.

“No! I’m sorry, I…it was nice, it’s just I haven’t…I mean, I’ve never…” You swallow down a lump in your throat as you feel your eyes start to water.

The second you glance up to gauge his reaction, you regret it. You watch his eyes widen in realization and feel his grip on your waist go slack. Hiding your face behind clammy hands, you groan and drop your head to his shoulder. Your entire body felt like it was on fire and you wished the floor would open up and swallow you whole.

“Was that your first kiss?”

You nod timidly, dragging your hands down to your lap to wring out your fingers, your gaze immediately following. And Steve is not malicious, he’d never laugh at you, but you feel just a little mortified that you froze up.

“Hey,” he cooed, delicately cupping your cheek and lifting your head. “It’s okay. Don’t be embarrassed.” The words are hushed and soft, a sweet reassurance that causes your insides to melt.

“Was it…was it good?” he asks.

The question makes you giggle, “I dunno, I didn’t really get a chance to return the favor.”

He nods, the beginnings of a wide smile slowly making its way onto his blushing face. “Right…do you maybe, wanna try again?”

You mirror his expression before you’re the one leaning in this time, a kiss that he reciprocates feverishly. His lips slot against your own as his arm tightens around your waist once more. Your fingers dip into hair and he hums against you at the feeling before pulling away.

You giggle at the dazed look on his face and his kiss-bitten lips.

“How was that one?” he asks, eyes shamelessly journeying over your face.

“It was perfect.”

[henneseyhoe]

Daddy’s Money.

Lewis Hamilton x BLACK!FEM!Reader.

WARNINGS:lil bit of nasty smut, brief one sided relationship, lewis being pussy whipped, reader is heavily implied to be a gold digger(she is but shhhh! let her rock frl), daddy kink, money making reader hornayyy(me asf), not edited(idc rn i’m sleepy), there MIGHT be plot holes(again, i’m sleepy) and das it i think.

ps. also i’m ngl i wrote this halfway lazily, i just wanted to get back into writing sooo yeah.

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The arrangement was really an accident (at first). You were hired to fit and dress the man after practically begging for the job, needing the money to jump start your fashion career since your father had cut you off the month prior. It’d take nearly five years to do so, but with someone as easy going as lewis, time would fly fast.

Eventually he grew fond of you, and you of him..him a bit (a lot) more than you actually. Months after getting hired he began bringing you around for things that wasn’t about his style, things that someone would do for a budding romance. You didn’t mind either, it was working in your favor getting the extra hours to do nothing. You didn’t mean to snag a sugar daddy, a famous one at that, just like you didn’t mean to fuck him before the met gala, damn near making him late. It just…happened; Which is what you’d say to judgy bitches.

You also didn’t mean to point out that midnight black bag (and a few other things) you had been wanting when shopping for him the week after the met. Those things mysteriously showed up on your door step two days later to your surprise. You were beginning to think he was a little generous…so you tested something out.

“Ugh! Wouldn’t this look so good on me?”

You pout as you held the designer dress up to your body. It was originally intended to go to another woman they paired him with for an event, but seeing it up against you instead was all he had to see before he told his assistant to inform the woman she’d be wearing something else. In awe, you proceeded to wear that dress to the event that night, easily gaining eyes from guests and earning yourself a name as Lewis’s “sexy ass stylist” online when the pictures taken of you went viral.

Later on that night the dress was being ripped apart from the back and thrown to the floor by you know exactly who, him doing everything in his power to get to what was underneath.

You couldn’t tell if your pussy was good or if he was just that whipped for you after that night. Either way, you were having fun.

Before you could snap your fingers, whatever you were THINKING of wanting was at your fingertips. He had more money than he could spend, and you had no problem helping him find what to do with it! It was only fair, ya know, for his sake.

The first time you realized he was really wrapped around your little iced out finger was the last time you had wanted for anything for long.

“I could have anything I want? seriously??”

You looked to him in shock, the man shrugging as he debated on a pair of versace shoes. “Have at it, love” He responded simply with a quick endearing smile to you before waving over an assistant to help you. You felt like a kid in a candy store.

^Also the last time you referred to him as anything other than daddy when not in public, (or at least not noticeably to others in public).

He was liquid when you called him that. soft putty in your hands, ready for you to shape him into anything you desired.

“Come on, daddy. Don’t you wanna see your name in diamonds on me? Don’t you wanna mark me? claim me?”

You taunted him in a seductive tone as you rolled your hips onto him. You flipped your hair to one side of your shoulder so you could look back at the work you were putting in, Lewis staring back at you with hearts in his eyes and his bottom lip tucked into his mouth. Both of y’all’s jeans were halfway down with your pretty brown ass perched up for him to see the tip of his long dick teasingly slide between your lips and into your honey coated walls repeatedly. He was right there on the edge, you could feel it and you hadn’t even sat all the way down on him yet.

Really it was either say yes to the chain or be left to make himself cum, he understood that completely. As he nods eagerly in agreement, you plopped your plump self down into his lap and he came as fast as police in white neighborhoods.

By the seventh month of being together your closet was every woman with a fashion sense dream. Designer galore (and not the ugly shit neither). He got you designs that wasn’t on racks yet but straight off a runway, things that fit perfectly to YOUR body. (Seeing that he was getting to know it so well..He could probably draw a map of you with just his damn tongue.)

You began getting way more noticed by his fans and friends, not only for suddenly having a thing for wearing expensive clothes and jewels, but for also being close with Lewis. Dating rumors had started to run amuck. The first plan was to deny, deny, deny but it was hard to do that when you were wearing his name on your neck, hiding the chain under your shirts or wearing it backwards so no one would see the name plate.

But the chain wasn’t what caused the dam to break. It was when you posted bags and gifts with flowers, a card attached that had a heartfelt and flirty handwritten poem on it, forgetting to even scribble out his name. Fans and close friends were on the fence, some of his associates madder than an ant colony in the rain and some fans confused on where the hell you even came from and where you got off on gold digging. The clothes and jewelry were finally starting to make sense and you gave the saying “Look like money” a new meaning.

Lewis was quick to come to your defense in interviews, you had never seen anyone get so nice nasty or petty in your honor. He was witty and quick with comebacks, his polite tone masking rude comments at any interviewer that dared to have an opinion about you that he didn’t like. He made sure as everything went on online and your name trended for the second time that week that you didn’t lack reassurance ever.

“Look in the mirror and let daddy know who’s it is”

He pulls you by your braids up to the direction of the reflecting headboard, your back pressed against his chest as his hips met your ass with a hard smack. After hours of pleasurable “reassurance” there wasn’t a spot inside you that his dick didn’t hit, a place on you that his tongue didn’t lick. The chain you had asked for a bit ago clinked freely against your chest and a fucked out evil smile grew on your face as you look him in the eyes through the mirror. “It’s yours, daddy. you know it’s all yours” You would reply before your walls gushed around his dick.

✮✮✮✮

Fans who prayed on your downfall weren’t so happy when they got the news that you two married two years later in Greece. The wedding was private, but it was no secret that a fortune was spent and that didn’t make the gold digging comments better. (Even though your father paid)

Those comments followed you into your fashion brand era and though you chose to be mysterious about private life and yourself in general, (for obvious reasons) you felt it was only right to defend your honor at least once.

Like the great actress you were, you did what white women around him had been doing to you since the beginning and threw on the waterworks, crying in front of any watchful eye when the rumors were brought up with your amazing husband by your side comforting you immediately. How dare they say such things about THEE Lewis Hamilton’s wife?? THEE Y/N Hamilton???

Your newly grown fan base called it blasphemy. There wasn’t an online blog on beyoncé’s internet that went untouched when having something to say about you. Everything they said was untrue! You had your own money, your own brand, (funded by your husband) and your own name.

“They’re so mean to me”

You pout as Lewis carefully takes off your heels and kisses the top of your feet before standing and caressing your cheek. “You know how the media is, and I know nothing they say about you is true. I’ll have my team take care of it, okay?” He reassured and you smile, mentally noting to suck his dick before bed. As if you were rewarding a dog for jumping through a hoop, being soft and on your side at all times was Lewis’s hoop, and he had better jump through every. single. time.

To be fair, there may have been some superficial motives behind the building of this relationship (on your side at least) but he genuinely did grow on you, and that was before you knew he was a trick, that part just made it deeper.

You were in shock when he asked you to marry him originally, so much so that you refused the first time because it scared you. You avoided him for an entire week and refused to go to work until you realized you had grown so accustomed to being around him that you could barely function. Apart from the fact that you were opening doors by yourself and eating dinner alone, you hadn’t noticed how much you liked talking to him, being with him and simply in his presence.

Materials aside, you loved him, you were in love with him. Infatuated just as much as he was with you by now and you came too long of a way to be scared off.

In reality you telling him no wasn’t gonna stop him from perusing. He knew you were gonna be his wife for a long time now and nothing was gonna get in the way of him finding you (and he kinda duped you with the whole falling for him thing anyway because he knew what half of your motives were and played his role well), you just found him first and made him pop that question again, which that time you happily said yes to.

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[spookykoolkat]

kinktober | pretty mama - j.m.

kinktober day eleven - breeding

pairing: joel miller x plus size!reader

wc: 3.48k

summary: after the beginning years of telling your husband you weren't ready for a baby, your four year marriage anniversary came up in the fall and you were having a little bit of baby fever.

warnings: 18+ ONLY! NO MINORS ALLOWED!! teasing, fingering, slight car sex if you squint, pregnancy kink, breeding kink, creampie, u protected penetration (p in v), dirty talk, talks of being a mother, pet names, talks of getting you pregnant.

reblogs, likes and comments are always appreciated and loved! THANK U SO MUCH FOR 500 FOLLOWERS OMG!!! this ones for u guys!

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YOU DIDN'T REALIZE HOW MUCH joel craved to see you pregnant. something you found was a bit odd but after being married to joel for a few years, you realized it was more endearing than anything. 

it was like clockwork — every time you and joel had sex, he craved to fill you up. you always told him no, that you didn’t want him to cum inside of  you even though you yourself wondered of the outcome. 

not only did he have a small kink for wanting to watch his cum leak out of you, to think about you finding out you’re carrying a mini you and him in your womb – he ached for it. he imagined you walking around, swollen and round, achy feet and coming to him to make you feel better. to console you, to take care of you, to love you. 

but tonight, your four year marriage anniversary, you felt something different. something that you’d never felt before, something that you couldn’t even imagine wanting. 

joel couldn’t even wait before getting inside the house he fixed up for you, kissing you against the front door with his key jiggling in the doorknob. 

he took you to your favorite restaurant to celebrate, having a couple of glasses of wine and mindlessly laughing with each other, like a normal married couple. but you were feeling particularly needy. 

rubbing your heeled feet against his calf, rubbing up and resting your chin on your palm as his eyes grew dark. it was an exciting scene, and feeling your heel press into the thick of his thigh, he couldn’t wait to get you home any longer. 

you were dressed in a deep red dress that cinched at your waist and acted as a corset, flowing out down your hips. paired with your black pumps with the thick heel and your skin scented with your sweet perfume he loved - he couldn’t stop staring at you. 

“quit it,” he mumbled behind the wine glass, still letting you rub up to his crotch under the table. 

too dim to notice movement underneath, everyone too deep in conversation to acknowledge the couple next to them. 

“i’m not doing anything,” you said, using your fork to scrape against the plate. 

“i’m serious, honey.” 

and he was. because the minute the two of you left, he had your leg thrown over his thigh while he drove, his fingers curling up inside of your hole that leaked for him. 

“joel please,” you cried, gripping onto the seat as your pretty red dress sat above the thick of your thighs. 

“what is it, baby? what do ya need?” his condescending voice only made you clench harder around his fingers, feeling your cunt throb in response. 

“you! i need you, please,” he only curled his fingers at a relentless pace, the only thing being heard was the light sound of the radio and your cunt gushing around his fingers. 

“oh? you need me? ‘s that why you were actin’ all needy in there?” he smirked, coming to a red light and being able to watch himself finger your hole, watching you sink into the leather seat and prop yourself against the door. 

luckily for you, joel had just the perfect amount of tint to prevent anyone from really seeing how you get for him. even though he wouldn’t mind, he liked the thought of claiming you in every way. 

but now, joel opened the door finally and pushed you inside to aim for the bedroom. 

“what do you need from me, sweetheart?” he asked, fingers tugging at the buttons of his white dress shirt after shucking off his shoes and blazer. 

your fingers were tugging at your panties already, still walking backwards to the main hall of your home. as you watched him walk towards you while taking off his top, you shook your heels off to take off a few inches of your height and finally reach the bedroom that was lit by the fairy lights you hung up — ones that joel fought you on, but you won anyways. 

the back of your knees hit the bed when you felt a cool breeze from the autumn wind blow through the open window, and you sat on the mattress while leaning on your palms. 

he stood in front of you, shirtless and unbuckling his pants as he stared you down: 

“i think,” you sighed dramatically, “i think i need you to fill me up.” 

-

he wasted no time to strip off his clothes and yours, leaving both of you bare as he crawled on top of you and spread your legs with his calloused hands. you might say that his hands are your favorite thing about him, but it seemed like every part of him drove you mad without trying. 

“do ya know what you’re sayin’ right now, baby?” joel asked, humming into your neck as he kissed and licked over the skin. 

you stared at the ceiling, a smile on your face as you wrapped your arms around his neck and pressed your cheek into his. 

“mhm, i know. i need it, joel. need to know how it feels when you cum inside of me,” you said lowly into his ear, and you swore you heard him practically growl as his hand snaked between your bodies. 

“you want me t’ knock you up? you gonna let me put my babies right here,” he asked, pressing down on the fat of your lower tummy before inching his way to your mound. 

you just nodded, whining as you felt his hand start to spread your cunt. 

“joel, please, need you to breed me, please,” before you could cry for him again, his hand swiftly goes to grab you by your jaw and chin, squeezing the chub of your cheeks together so he can graze his nose against your ear. 

“say it again, tell me again,” he growled, and you bucked your hips up to try to rub your cunt against his bare cock, but he kept you down. 

“fuck, cum inside of me please, please knock me up,” 

you heard something animal like come from his throat, grabbing you harshly and pulling you up to lay back on a few pillows. he grabbed you by your thighs and pushed them up, exposing your sex to him so he could see every detail. 

he needed to admire you like this, the way your tummy bulges more than usual because of your knees near your chest, the way your thighs pushed the lips of your cunt together — covered in your slick. he loved watching you like this, seeing how you let him maneuver you however he wanted. 

still, with your legs pressed together against your chest as far as they could reach, joel sat on his knees and guided his tip between the thick lips of your cunt. he watched as your pussy covered him in your arousal, only watching as he slid between the lips, up your cunt and between your thighs. 

“such a  pretty baby, gonna let me pump you full? full of me?” he huffed as he fucked between your thighs, rubbing his shaft and balls over your cunt. 

your arms wrapped around the back of your thighs to hold yourself for him, and he smiled, kissing your calf and up your feet. moving his cock from rubbing between the fat of your thighs, he slowly let his member spread your cunt generously to rub over your hooded clit, down to prod at your tight hole. 

“yes, please, fill me baby,” you whined, feeling him start to sink into you, inducing you to stretch and mold around him. 

“mmm, fuck, always thinkin’ of fillin’ you up, always thinkin’ what you’d look like carryin’ my babies,” he grunted, taking over where you held your legs for him, spreading them wide and slotting between them. 

“fuck, joel please, please,” you were begging, aimlessly, but he only gave you more inches as he maneuvered his hips to slide further inside of your warmth. 

you could feel the way his cock made its way into your cervix, the way he pumped in and out of you slowly after finally bottoming out made you feel every curve, every vein, the way his head nudged the spot you couldn’t reach with your fingers. 

his mouth was everywhere, all over you as he pumped in and out of you kissing over your hot skin and the birth marks you had on your shoulders and neck. the dark freckles you hated, the stretch marks you thought you had too many of past the acceptable amount, the hair you tried to shave on your arms when you were a child — he worshiped all of you at every given moment. 

his arms snaked under your body, hooking over your shoulders to have leverage to keep his pace relentless. he held you close to his body, using every ounce of strength he had to make sure you didn’t have to lift a single limb to do any of the work. 

another thing about joel — he loved to just watch you take everything he had to give you. 

“that’s right baby, hold on to me, let me make you feel good, gonna make sure i put a baby in ya,” he whispered in your ear over the wet slaps that bounced off the walls, and you listened. 

you wrapped your thick legs around his waist, locking him in a hold with your calves as your arms wrapped around his, still holding you by your shoulders to keep you on his cock. your moans and whimpers would sound desperate, like you’d never be able to have him like this again, and you gripped at his forearms with your manicured nails. 

he loved when you were like this. desperately trying to get him closer, anymore closer to you than he already was, trying to grip onto him, to ground yourself with him. but it was never enough, you could never get enough of joel. no matter how many times he’s fucked you, or had you like this — you needed more. 

the thought of joel being a father to your kids never failed to make you swell with warmth, it never failed to make you fuzzy at the thought of joel claiming you in another sense. to make you a mother, the mother of his children, to have that tie forever and so everyone can know who you are made for — it sent a different type of pride in you. 

he wanted to get you pregnant, show the world that he had you to create and hold a life that you both had something to do with. to show everyone that he is the only one who could give you the world and more, to know that he’s practically locked you down in every way gave him a sense of security. 

the thought only sent your cunt to clench around the girth of his cock, something you’d never get used to be thoroughly enjoyed every time he gave himself to you. 

“fuck, fuck joel, fuck! so good, so so so good, wanna have your baby so bad,” you cried, and joel grunted at the thought as he situated himself on his knees. 

his hands were sunken into your plush tummy, hands gripping the fat of your body to hold up half of his weight and hold you down, as if you were going to slip away from him. he held you to the bed with his hands, pulling back and watching your legs unwrap around his waist to being held in the air, bent at the knee. without missing a beat, joel’s mouth hangs open a little at the sight and moved his hands from holding you by your waist, to grabbing your legs and holding you spread open by your thighs. 

this way, he could see every bit of you, the way your cunt sucked him in and made obscene sounds of squelching, how your tits looked pressed together, bouncing with fervor to each thrust. he imagined how they’d look when you were pregnant, how they’d fatten and round up as a response to your hormones and child-bearing body. 

“i know honey,” he cooed, licking his lips as he watches his cock disappear in and out of your cunt, “such a pretty pussy, ain’t lettin’ no on else have ya, you’re mine baby, all fuckin’ mine,” 

his southern accent came out more in his grunts and moans, losing concentration of anything else but you. 

he couldn’t imagine you getting any sexier, more desirable until he thought about you with his baby. after, especially. seeing you in a rocking chair with the baby in your arms, reading a story or cuddling them until they fell asleep. he remembered when he first met you. so outgoing, couldn’t get you to stay home, partying and doing all types of drugs. to be frank, he wasn’t approving of your way of life. 

he always worried about you, had to pick you up shitfaced at clubs, wanting to make sure you weren’t getting into any trouble. of course you did, there was a time joel had to bail you and tommy out of jail together because the two of you thought it was smart to get into a tussle at the bar with an obnoxious couple. joel never trusted tommy after that, mad at him for letting you do that, but you had to step in and tell him it was your decision. 

after that night, joel let you know how he felt. how your reckless ways weren’t fair for him, how he worried about you constantly, hoping you don’t end up drunk in a ditch somewhere. thinking about you now, asking him to make you a mother, only going out when joel went with you because you got tired of going out every night with your friends as you got older. now when you get drunk you aren’t crazy and sloppy, you were giggly or emotional. he admired your growth, and it even made him smile with pride realizing even though you changed some of your ways, you were still you at heart. 

he just knows you’re going to be the cool mom, the fun, exciting mom. he didn’t mind taking the burden of being the one to discipline and being not so fun to be around, it just made him flutter at the thought. knowing you went from crazy, wild and a party girl to wanting to be the mother of his kids made him warm. he had never loved anything as much as he loved you. 

“gonna be such a pretty mama, ain’t you? my perfect fuckin’ wife,” he growled, almost to himself as he stared down at you. 

no matter what, every time joel looked at you, you felt heat rush into your cheeks. this doesn’t change, not even when your bare underneath him. 

your eyes focus on his, watching his hair tousle and sweat form on his body. you couldn’t think, not even what to do with the rest of your limbs he wasn’t gripping onto, so you just hooked your arms under your calf, and held yourself open for him. 

“good fuckin’ girl, already knows what to do for me,” he smirked, watching you hold your folded position as far back as you can to open your cunt for him, just so he can see the hood of your clit between your lips and watch your hole flutter around his cock as you watched him. 

every time he soaked you in, you couldn’t help but clench. joel enjoyed watching you almost as much as you enjoyed watching him watch you. 

he smacked you on your ass a couple of times, stinging with every thrust he began to speed up with. your breath was being knocked out of you, no air in your lungs as he fucks into you to try to angle himself to hit your g-spot. it didn’t take much at all, especially not even he bent his knee to plant one foot on the bed and burying himself to a hilt. 

watching him like this, have so much desire and want for you enough to scrounge up any way to just be further pressed into you made the bundle of heat in your lower tummy nearly explode. 

“please, please, please cum in me, please, want your cum so bad, make me yours, wanna be good for you,” you rambled, breathy sentences coming out and not completely clear to you, but very clear to joel. 

he felt himself losing control watching you take his length, watching the ring of your arousal build on his cock. he couldn’t get used to how drenched you became at the sight of him, how slick you felt every time he slid between your folds. how his face and the scruff of his grown out beard would always be soaked coming up for air from your cunt — it was addicting. 

because he could be between your legs for hours, until you finally begged him to stop, to let up on your sore sex. 

“always so wet f’me, always ready to take my cock, always ready f’ me to plant my seed right,” he trailed, grabbing one of your hands from the backs of your thighs and using it to push onto your lower tummy that slightly hung over your mound, “here,” 

his hand rested on yours, and watched as your eyebrows furrowed into pleasure, your eyes fluttering and felt as if they were going cross eyed. vision blurred as you felt the undeniable pressure of your release threatening to spill over. you could feel him in your stomach, you could feel him everywhere. 

“such a pretty mess, ready for me to make her a mama, wantin’ t’ be mine forever, let me breed her pretty cunt whenever i want,” he whispered, and moved his hand down to your cunt to gather your juices that was covering his cock and spread it to your clit. 

he stuttered a moment, enjoying the way your hips tried to fuck back onto him, wanting to meet his thrusts with persistence. when you finally got into the rhythm, joel used his two fingers to rub firmly onto your clit. 

“gonna look so pretty filled with my cum, ain’t that right? cum for me, baby, make a mess on my cock pretty girl, let me feel you,” his words were too much for you, wanting to hold on for him, to cum together but it looked like you couldn’t help yourself. 

“gonna cum, gonna cum, joel, m’ c-cumming for you,” you moaned, followed by a heavy gasp caused by the jolts of your body after the knot in your tummy pulled apart and unraveled under him. 

he was the only one that could pull that reaction from you, the only one who got to see you shake under his hold, and god did he love it. he loved how you milked his cock until he felt his hips go sloppy, grabbing you harder than he knows, his mouth hanging open as he winced from the overstimulation of your cunt not letting go. 

he could do this over and over again, except this time, cumming inside of you was an entirely new situation. not only were you dripping down his shaft, but his last few thrusts into you and he came with a gravelly moan, one that made you throb around his cock. 

it was almost beautiful the way he made you feel warm, inside and out. the ropes of his hot release coated your walls entirely, and his hips slowly kept gliding in and out of you very softly. in his mind he was making sure you had a chance of carrying his baby, and even if not, he’d have the chance to do it over and over again until then. 

it’s all he could dream of really, filling you up with the purpose of making you a mother. 

“baby,” he breathes, letting your legs lay straight on the bed, his weight falling onto your body and he traps you. 

your bodies are sticky, covered in sweat and spit, your juices coating his entire groin and the bed. it was lovely, something that wasn’t at all sexual given how unflattering it is to be sweaty, disheveled and out of breath, but still you had a sense of lust and desire for him. love, is what you felt. and love was sensual, sexual, emotional, spiritual — it was everything. 

and as you laid there under joel while he gave small kisses over the skin exposed to him, playing with his hair and joel whispering to tell you how you are going to be the most amazing, beautiful mother there is — you couldn’t have imagined having a kid, being a mother, especially not to anyone else’s child. anyone but joel. 

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TAGLIST

@awilderi @nerdieforpedro @cyb3rluvvxx @joelmillers-girl @pedritoferg @bethanymccauley @subconsciouscollapse @teyamsgrl

i hope u enjoyed! thank u so much for the support and for reading!

[sh1-n0bu]

𝔫𝔬𝔟𝔲’𝔰 𝔨𝔦𝔫𝔨𝔱𝔬𝔟𝔢𝔯 𝔬𝔣 2023!

day 15: collaring with kamisato ayato from genshin impact

warnings: collaring, leash, degrading, thigh riding, cumming untouched, fluff at the end

notes: first time ever writing abt this pretty man. he’s so cocky i just wanna—

being the head of the kamisato clan is tiring. it’s boring. it’s nauseating. it’s annoying — everything and anything negative, it was the definition of being the head of the kamisato clan. but he doesn’t do it for nothing.

if it meant his little sister could live her life freely without ever having to worry about anything, if it meant his clan members and workers could sleep peacefully in the night, if it meant his only close friend, thoma could continue to be safe and protected — he would continue to be the head of the kamisato clan.

but there was another reason by he would continue to be in his position of authority. what other reason? his doting lover who would keep a tight leash on him as he pathetically humps his clothed cock on their thigh, of course.

no one would ever suspect a man like ayato to be the type to love being controlled. or collared. or even leashed for that matter but here he was. on your thigh, the soft leather material hugging his neck being a reminder that even with titles and authority, you would always be in charge.

titles, work or duties would always be thrown out the window the moment you would appear in his peripheral vision. with you, ayato didn’t needed to act all high and mighty. you were his lover of many years, you know exactly everything that goes on behind his mask of calm and collected attitude and the ever so gentle smile on his face. he thinks too much, plans ahead, takes too deeply but none of that mattered with you by his side.

with you, ayato could let loose and relax. with you, ayato could be a doting husband and not just a man with wealth and power and authority. with you, ayato could be just himself, jusg be ayato and not the head of the kamisato clan who shoulder the weight of everything.

with you, ayato could place sloppy kisses on your lips, a whine coming out when you only smile into the kiss and not kiss him back. he could clutch the fabric of your shirt tightly in his hands, humping his clothed cock into your thigh. he could take every word you said with a nod. heart shaped pupils, hazy eyes and drool covered lips wide open, gasping and begging you to help him. he could leave the leash in your hand, knowing that you would take good care of him. you always did.

“darling, will you please help me out? you’ve been away on your business trip for so long, i felt so lonely waiting for you” the young lord whines, leaning in to pepper kisses on your lips again. even with his swollen lips, he was so eager to kiss you. it was endearing in a way.

“that so? is that why you handed me this when i walked inside first without even a welcome back kiss?” you hold up the leash in your hand, tugging on it gently to pull him back for a proper kiss this time. he happily obliges, sighing into your mouth. he can make up for the forgotten ‘welcome back’ kiss later.

“missed you. missed you so much” wrapping his hands around your neck, ayato wiggles around on your lap a bit to a more comfortable position. legs spread on the sides of your own, placing sloppy, open mouthed kisses on your lips, he could barely hold back his giggle when your hands rested over his hips.

“my my, you did miss me this much. look at you, young lord. all hard and needy just when i came back home” you say his title with a certain mocking tone, knowing full well that ayato loves to have a bit of degrading in your game of pleasure and love.

but it was true. the moment he saw you walk into your shared home, letting out groans and sighs of relief of finally coming back home, he was already throwing himself at you. clinging to your form as he nuzzles his face into the crook of your neck, taking in the familiar comforting scent of wood, honey and bonfire. it didn’t take long for you to let out a coo of affection before ayato was handing you an all too familiar leash, grinding himself on your thigh.

“s-sorry… i just missed you a lot” he whimpers, hugging you close to himself. that was how it all went. a quick hug and a coo at the hallways of your doorstep with your husband grinding his hard-on on your thigh. deciding to help him out with his hard work, you flex your leg, raising it a bit and flexing your thigh so it would be easier for him to ride himself stupid on only your thigh.

so easy to please yet so incredibly spoiled. even that didn’t seemed to be enough for him as his hands guide yours to rest over his hips. a silent plea to help him out.

chuckling with a sigh of defeat, you oblige. who wouldn’t with how he was slobbering all over you anyways? dry humping, hugging you close, taking in the familiar comforting scent of you as he nuzzles his face into the crook of your neck. soft whines and whispers about how much he missed you, delirious moans of how much he loves you as he places open mouthed kisses on your neck.

“m-missed you… missed you a lot daaanh! guckk♡︎” before he could even finish his another moan of how much he missed you, ayato lets out a squeal, choking on his own moans as his ships still on your lap. there was a wet patch forming on his pants.

how sweet. your husband missed you so much he came untouched by just grinding his hips on you as you tug on the leash. perking up, he leans in to give you another kiss on your lips. his swollen lips hurt but he was willing to endure it for you.

a quick soft peck before he pulls back with a sweet smile. a genuine smile filled with live and affection. one that you eagerly returned with your own.

“welcome back home, darling”

“i’m home”

[kmiuu1]

Just thinkin' bout Gojo Satoru.

Gojo x Reader, basically! :3

( Sorry about the small text thing!! I don't really use the small txt but it suits this style better, lol...! )

Satoru, the man who would gleefully get down on his knees and hands to worship you — his beloved, precious, endearing, gorgeous, and talented woman. The thing he finds best about that part is that you're his.

Satoru, who would prefer to be the little spoon as he loves your touch — the way you hold him so lovingly, how could he not be intoxicated by you and your warmth?

Satoru, thought he'd never have the time or chance to ever find the “love of his life” till he met you. Completely altering that thought, twisting and bending it a 180° degrees when you just randomly slipped into his life at one point.

Gojo Satoru.

Is the man that loves you. The man whose fallen heads over heels for you. Not the “strongest”, but Satoru — Your “baby”, your “man”.

If you were to ever say you liked “poetry”, he'd all of a sudden also be into it and conjure up the most corny yet breathtaking poems.

If you felt like homemade desserts, he'd scurry to get an apron and get to work. Hes good at everything he does, anyway... so of course anything he bakes will probably be the best thing you've ever had.

You ever accidentally blurt out a “Ugh, I kinda feel sick...”, and he'd be gone the second you finish that sentence — only to return with a plastic bag filled with prescribed medicine in SECONDS.

Of course, you'd do the same things for him even if it'd mostly end up as failures — but that's exactly why he loves you. Because you treat him as an equal, because you don't see him any less or more than the average human being. Hes just him, in your eyes.

Though, he knew the world of Jujutsu would eventually cause your seperation together. He'll be selfish, for a bit more — as long as you're the reason, as long it's you.

He loves you. You love him.

And that'll never change. Even if the world were to be thrown against the sun, even if the largest meteor ever recorded were to suddenly crash through the earth, even if a million natural disasters were to occur at once.

This may or may not be the first and last time he'll ever be so greedy for another person's love, touch, warmth, and joy. As long it's you until the end of time, his soul and heart belongs to you — and will never stop being greedy.

(*´▽｀)ﾉﾉ ( Did I cook guys?? Satoru gives me cuteness aggression sometimes, tbh. I wanna hug him so bad ugh. )