#he's not a girl he's just ~ten ����

[gutsby]

Stuck

Pairing: Old!Joel x Reader

Summary: Joel gets nominated to play Santa Claus for Jackson’s holiday festivities. Of course, you’re into that.

Warnings: 18+. Unprotected piv. Breeding kink. Age gap. Santa Clause kink (it’s brief). F!Oral. Omitting one tag to avoid spoiling the ending—please read at your own risk.

Note: Kinda inspired by Otis Redding’s Try a Little Tenderness

Word count: 5.5k

“Give your old man a kiss before he leaves?”

The invitation shouldn’t have made you as wet as it did. But it had. And Joel just grinned, lips twitching beneath his big fake beard and palms pulling you toward his body.

The kiss had had to be wholesome and quick. Before long, he’d be surrounded by a sea of eager, wide-eyed, and awe-stricken children in the middle of Jackson’s town square, and what sort of example would you be setting if you were the girl caught kissing Santa Claus?

It wouldn’t rally much confidence in Father Christmas, if either of you had had to guess. You let him go. With a soft, innocuous tug of his belt buckle and a pat on his padded belly, you’d promised to be extra good while he was gone and leave more than just milk and cookies out for him later. Joel had blinked twice, and in the glint of one look, you could tell he’d wanted to say much more.

But then Tommy, dressed as an elf and scowling like Ebenezer Scrooge, had tugged him off your porch.

“You can get those cookies later, Nick. Let’s go.”

And that had been the last you’d seen of the pair before you’d snuck off to see Maria about Joel’s secret gift.

Now, two hours later in the glow of a roaring fire and near-unbearable excitement, you were perched on the sofa. Sitting with your knees tucked underneath you and a glass of milk, a tray of cookies, and a small, rectangular box tied with a bow set beside you on the coffee table.

You really hoped Joel would like his present.

You also guessed it wouldn’t hurt that you were currently half-naked in a ruby red satin teddy for his return home.

As soon as you heard the creak of the front door, you straightened up. You watched a body shuffle in, head bowed and shaking snow off his sprayed-white locks. Joel looked perfectly ancient in his present get-up: thick black boots, velvet crimson pantsuit, chest-length beard, and lopsided hat. He looked haggard and adorable, too. You could tell by the way he kicked off his shoes and left them stranded by the door he was absolutely drained by the events of that night—dealing with every kid in town under the age of ten likely hadn’t been his first choice.

But now he was here. Joel had been so preoccupied with getting off his boots that he hadn’t even seen you on the couch, and the instant his gaze landed on you, it froze.

“Baby…” he groaned.

His whole face softened, like he couldn’t believe the sight in front of him then, and his arms stretched out for you.

He looked childlike, almost, with the way he lumbered over. His limbs were heavy, and they felt that way coming to crash over your cowered frame on the sofa. You leapt back and squealed, only to feel two big palms grab you by the hips and pin you underneath him. Joel’s breaths were warm, and his eyes were alight with rapt intrigue.

“This all for me?” he asked, sliding his hands down your thighs and in between them. He cursed feeling the heat.

You had to bite back a laugh at how silly this looked—Santa Clause, a staple of your childhood, prying your legs apart and all but drooling at the sight inside. Pawing at your legs, then at your hips, then at the band of your panties beneath the tulle hemline of your teddy. It felt fun in a depraved sort of way. You felt naughty, like you might not want to share Joel’s gift with him until after all the fun was over. But, deep down, you weren’t that cruel.

“Don’t you wanna see your gift? Have your milk and cookies?” you asked sweetly, just narrowly managing to slide an arm out from underneath Joel’s weight and pointing to the assortment of goodies on the table.

Joel looked that way briefly, but then his gaze was back on you. Its warmth was smoldering. Darkening in time.

“Later. Santa’s got a bone to pick with you first.”

You squealed again as fingers hooked in your panties.

“But— but— you’ll really like this gift, Joel. Really.”

“Yeah? Already got one for you right here, kiddo.”

In a crass, graceless sort of gesture, Joel removed one hand from you to grab his crotch, and shake it firmly—‘Got a good seven inches of this gift to share, sugar’—and from there, you had no choice but to acquiesce. If Joel really didn’t mind putting off his gift for yours, at first, that was on him. You leaned back to get comfy.

“If you insist.” The smile you flashed him was coy.

Knowing, as your underwear was slid down your legs and Joel nestled in between them on the couch. You propped your head on a pillow and watched, feeling another small wave of sick nostalgia wash over your senses; Joel was still fully dressed as Kris Kringle stripping you naked.

He’d just moved to pull off the white beard, tied snug with a string, when you reached down and stopped him.

“Leave it,” you said, voice quavering with the threat of a giggle. This was insane. “Leave the beard. Leave all of it.”

Joel flashed you a look with a brow cocked up, confused.

“You want me to eat you out as Santa Clause?” he asked.

He grinned, and you almost laughed again. His expression was still puzzled—mixed with arousal, the look suited him well—and before he could say another word, you just nodded. Shimmied your red panties the rest of the way down and kicked them off at your feet.

But when Joel reached for your legs to pull you closer to him, you slipped off the couch. Your limp, shimmering frock that barely covered the globes of your ass underneath it brushed the bare skin as you darted off.

You’d meant it to be playful. Joel couldn’t brush aside gift-giving and get his way quite that easily. You stood on your own two feet, pivoting back to face him before starting to make your way toward the stairs. You waved.

“Okay. Give me a minute. If you’re giving me my present now, I need to get the rest of yours ready. It’s…upstairs.”

Joel’s—or Santa’s—whole face dropped. He stood.

“That wasn’t the deal, kiddo. You before me.”

He was already pacing after you, slowly at first; then, when your feet reached the first step, he broke off in a run. You screamed, and tried to tear your way up the rest of the stairs, but before more than four thuds had sounded on the wood, you were being thrust back in Joel’s arms—hoisted off your feet, and carried to the living room without another breath or pause from him. You kicked your feet, pretended to be indignant, and were smiling to yourself, inwardly, the whole time. He would really be kicking himself for this later, you knew.

“Gonna be a good little girl for Santa and stay put now?” he huffed, setting you down on your feet. Rather than heading for the couch, he’d placed you on the rug by the warmth of the fireplace and the winking lights of the Christmas tree, where he knew you felt coziest. And, in the glow of both, he could drink the view in completely.

You dropped to the floor where you knew he wanted you.

Still smiling. Fighting a laugh: “Yes, daddy. I’ll be good.”

Joel laid you back. Spread your legs. Tugged your butt right where he wanted it beside the fire and slotted his torso in between your thighs. Your body was practically humming with anticipation as he brought his head lower.

The fluffy white bobble at the end of his hat swung in front of his face, preventing his mouth from sinking in.

He groaned.

“Fuckin’ kids.” He batted the thing out of his way.

“Been toyin’ with my hat and beard all goddamn night. You’d think I was a…a jungle gym to those little hellions,” Joel added with an edge of taut frustration to his voice.

You knew he’d liked the ‘hellion’ antics, whether he was willing to admit it or not. He’d pretend to be pissed at the kids for being kids, but deep down, he was always more than willing to oblige. He’d practically volunteered to take on the role of Santa before the ballot had even been cast for who’d get to play the Big Red Man for the festivities.

He was your old man. A softie at heart.

Hard in other places, but that was just how you liked it.

He spread your legs with both of his hands and practically moaned at what lay before him now.

You were wet. Glistening. In the light of the fireplace and the evergreen behind him, he could see it all too clearly: how pretty and slick and shiny you were along your slit. You’d been patient awaiting his return, and he could tell. Though you were dripping nectar through your folds, you hadn’t smeared one drop with your fingers—you sat like a gleaming, unwrapped present for the man to devour.

And maybe it felt wrong, all swollen and stiff beneath his costume pants and his hair dusted white to make him look even older than he was—about 1,700 years, give or take, instead of fifty-nine—but the look in his eyes said he wanted it all. He felt raw, and needy, and debased.

You liked seeing Joel this way. You liked feeling wrong.

It was what most of Jackson thought of you, anyway. What had taken Tommy, Maria, and the closest of your friends the longest time to accept, nearly all of your neighbors still thought was pretty strange: how Joel was decades your senior and you two were dating—happily. What they were liable to think when the news of you trying for a baby spread in town was anyone’s guess.

Joel seemed to forget all that as his head sank lower. He forked two of his big, meaty fingers in the shape of a ‘V’ and pushed your folds apart in just the way you liked, and he breathed out slow, warm puffs of air over your cunt. You shuddered, and you waited for his tongue.

“Baby…” he trailed off again.

“Yeah?” Your voice was tight.

A beat of silence passed.

“I’m…probably gonna need to take off the beard.”

You breathed out a soft, reflexive laugh, and you didn’t protest. Joel tugged down the big, white, wiry clump of hair from his face and let his other, shorter one surface.

This one wasn’t white, but it was a handsome black and grey, with a lot more of a silver sheen to its these days. You smiled as Joel drew closer, and that smile only faltered a little as the man kissed your inner thigh.

He did the same to the other leg. He dragged his mouth down the skin toward your center and let his lips part a little. He kissed you again, this time at the top of your mound. It made an extra low, almost lewd sort of sound. He rubbed his nose against your lower belly, and the contrast of the weathered texture to your own was stark.

Joel was old. He looked it even more with his hair painted white and his mouth hovering over your slit.

“She been good this year?” he hummed, peering up.

Before you could answer, Joel’s tongue slid out, and he drew a fat, wet line over the seam of your pussy. Your hips jolted in response, and his free hand held you down.

“She tastes good,” he went on in the most casual tone.

Then, without further warning, his jaw slackened some more and he started lapping at the tender flesh beneath it. He dragged his tongue through the thick, stringy mess and closed his eyes, like he was savoring the taste. His lips curled, and he kissed you again—this time, it closed around your clit, and he suckled you gently. With the first wet pop and a sickening squelch from his mouth, your eyes nearly rolled back in your head; Joel’s opened again as he flashed you a shit-eating grin between your legs.

“She’s been real good for me this year, hasn’t she, hon?” And he squeezed your leg to indicate he wanted a reply.

You tried to answer, but it came out garbled and weak:

“So good, daddy. So— so—”

Oh.

Joel’s fingers moved from their forked position to push his index inside your weeping hole. At the same time, the tip of his tongue flicked delicately against your clit. The two parts of him moved in tandem, and from the feeling of both, you had to bite your lip to keep from letting out a cry. Your hand reached down to grab his hair, but all it could find was that goddamn Santa hat. Joel snickered.

With his lips, tongue, and finger still working your needy cunt, he couldn’t help but smile as you cast the hat aside

“Damn thing,” you cursed, fingers lacing through his hair.

“Language, young lady,” Joel murmured.

Like he was one to talk.

You made a fist with the chalky white locks and rutted your hips the tiniest bit, too flush with pleasure to give a single fuck what words came out of your mouth, and from the way Joel grinned and slid a second finger inside, you had only to guess he didn’t mind either.

He could pretend, though. He licked a little harder, then:

“She’s gonna be sweet for her old man, isn’t she?”

“Y— yes, she is.”

“Nice and polite before she gets this cock?”

“I promise.”

Appearing satisfied with this response, or else simply wanting to bring you to the edge and make you cum on his tongue, Joel wedged his fingers even deeper, then curled them. He brushed the soft, fleshy wall in a beckoning motion and, at the same time, sucked your nub between his lips. He felt you tense, heard you moan, and likely sensed there was no better time for his tongue to dart out again. Just as he released your clit from its airtight kiss, he was back licking circles on the tender, swollen thing, eyes flitting up to yours to hold their gaze.

“Daddy,” you whimpered.

When his fingers curled another time, you cried out.

Your brain was on the fritz; your heels were digging in the rug, stomach tight as it had ever been, and your hands seemed to move with a mind of their own. One was gripping Joel’s hair, giving you leverage to cant your hips against his face, and the other was palming your breast through the thin lace fabric of your teddy. You craved stimulation—couldn’t breathe without the feel of something on you, and in you, as you were about to cum.

Joel nodded his soft approval. He watched you fondle yourself and seemed enthralled, even from where he lay.

“That’s it, baby. Touch yourself while daddy licks your pussy. Lemme see how good she’s feelin’, sweetheart.”

His words were all the propulsion you needed and more. You pinched your nipple through the fabric, whined at the pleasure wrought by your fingers and by Joel’s simultaneously, and felt an even deeper twist in your gut. You grip constricted in his hair; you didn’t need to speak.

“She’s right there, isn’t she? I know that feels nice, baby,” Joel groaned, voice low, “Gonna cum for daddy now?”

You whined. You gripped tighter. Your body needed this.

“C’mon, hon. Let me have it. Cum on daddy’s tongue.”

Two more strokes of his tongue, a gentle thrust of his fingers, and the brush of your own touch across taut, pebbled flesh was enough. The next second had you clamping down on Joel’s hand and giving him all you possibly could, lips parted and spilling a feverish, shrill whine while your orgasm washed over you. Your toes curled into the rug, and Joel pressed your hips down as his tongue fucked you through it. He licked and sucked and coaxed your needy walls again and again; he felt you tremble, and he let your wet essence soak him through.

By the time you were done, his face was glistening.

He lifted his head from between your legs, gaze wild and lips shiny with your full release. He licked them, elated.

“All good, hon?”

“Amazing.”

You let out a shaky breath and pet his hair. Joel smiled.

“Wanna go upstairs? Be a little comfier in the bed, I bet,” he offered, slowly starting to rise, before wincing. Then when his knees audibly cracked, “Your old man needs it.”

You had no doubt about that. You sat up and smiled, and let him lift you to your feet along with him. Another snap.

“Aw, hell,” Joel hissed, shaking his head.

You wrapped an arm around his waist before pacing another step. He leaned a little into you, though not too much, and you couldn’t help but flash him an arch look.

“Did your wishlist include new kneecaps, by chance?”

“No ma’am. Just stronger hands to spank with.”

Joel didn’t miss a beat, grinning down at you.

You would’ve returned with something equally cheeky and light, had you not remembered that thing close by.

“Wait, wait—your present!”

Joel eyed the square box as you retrieved it. His eyes flashed with curiosity before you reappeared under his arm and helped him start up the stairs. He walked, and let out a soft groan, and when you’d made it halfway up, he shook his head at you again. It was slow but emphatic

“Gotta finish your gift first, sweetheart,” he murmured.

And, try as you might to get an inch of give after that, you sensed fighting Joel’s generosity was futile by then. You knew him well enough to guess that he’d only be satisfied receiving his present once yours had been properly secured with another orgasm, and his spend dribbled in big, thick rivers down the insides of your legs.

You heaved a sigh and smiled, walking slowly with him.

Joel, if you only knew.

Despite his best efforts, the man still couldn’t work out how he’d ever gotten so lucky to find something like this—someone like you. As his hips worked their way up to a near-desperate pace, bordering on frenzied as he fucked into you, Joel decided that he wouldn’t bother guessing.

He’d accept this for what it was: a gift he didn’t deserve.

The two of you hadn’t even gotten around to the business of unwrapping your presents yet, and Joel already knew that he had it all just looking down at you.

With your back arched and your hands making fists in the sheets beside your head, wet and glistening cunt accepting each one of his thrusts and squeezing him tight on every stroke, Joel had to steel himself just feeling how good you were, knowing how well you fit him in every way, and sensing this was as close to replete happiness as he’d ever get. He couldn’t ask for more.

Even without a baby, he knew things would be okay.

The two of you had been trying for months now, wholly without success of yet. There had been the night he’d bought a blue pill and fucked you four times in one day, and you’d told him at the end of it all that your period was late. But then you’d bled the next morning, and your hopes, for the present moment, had been dashed away.

No pregnancy hopes since then had amounted to anything else, and at length, you’d agreed not to let it get your spirits down—or try not to, anyway. You’d fuck as often as you could, but you wouldn’t let the thought of wanting a baby make the process less fun for you now.

That didn’t mean Joel couldn’t remind you every now and then what you were hoping the endgame would be.

Presently, he leaned over your prone body on the bed and pressed his lips to your ear. He ground his hips against your ass so his cock wedged itself all the way in to the hilt, and when the tip was just threatening to graze the edge of your cervix, he dropped a kiss on your cheek.

“Want me to put a baby right here?” He spoke gently.

Your walls clenched around him involuntarily, and your head reared back to fall against his shoulder. Joel took this as his opportunity to start peppering more kisses. He knew how much you liked the dirty talk while he was deep inside, talking about how much he wanted to blow his load and knock you up. It was a melting point for you both, and he sensed that you wouldn’t last long after it.

He had your head tilted to his, your lips spilling moan after moan as his dick plunged further inside and your eyes struggling to stay open. They flitted between his, and they gave him a hopeful look. You managed a smile.

“Right…right there, daddy,” you whimpered out.

Another sound escaped your mouth and flooded his, and Joel couldn’t help it: he kissed you, and he fucked in deeper. He couldn’t have wanted this more if he tried.

His forehead was slick with sweat, as was yours. Your bodies were grinding together—Joel’s soft, warm belly filling the concave space where your spine curved down, and he rutted repeatedly into you, like an animal in heat.

His face was right beside yours as his teeth gritted out:

“My sweet girl want a baby in her for Christmas, that it?”

Again, you whined and rolled your hips against his, nodding your head, and the look in your eyes was wild.

“Baby—please. Please fuck your baby in me, Joel.”

Joel could do more than that. Much more. Ask him for twins, triplets, or however many kids you could’ve wanted, and he would’ve given it to you then.

He wished it were that simple, and he could’ve knocked you up and made you happy a long time ago, but sadly, that hadn’t been in the cards for you two. Joel shortly brushed that thought away, not wanting to lose his momentum or delay the oncoming orgasm about to rattle your body underneath him. He kissed your shoulder this time, thrusting with his stiff, wet cock in just the way you liked, and in seconds, he got what he wanted—what you needed, clearly, as your muscles seized and your lips let out a sharp, shrill cry in response.

Joel held you to him as long as he could. He felt you melt into the bed and only held your body tighter, rutting his hips at their relentless pace to keep your pleasure alive. He heard you whine, tell him to cum inside me, daddy, please, and from that point on, he sensed he’d have to slow a little. It couldn’t be helped. When he came, he had to pin you down and fill you completely—take his time working his spend inside your needy, pulsing cunt, and when he was done, just keep you there. Let you feel him. It was a satisfaction unlike any other for you both, and it was one he’d come to love these last few months. He stilled inside you, feeling his cum coating every inch of your walls around him, and he grinned. You let out a sigh.

“So I…I made the ‘Nice’ list, Mr. Clause?” you panted.

Joel’s head dropped to yours in a short, rumbling laugh.

His dick twitched inside you, and his belly growled a bit. He definitely should’ve taken you up on those cookies.

“Yeah. Yeah, I’d say we’re square,” he breathed back.

How long you laid like that was anyone’s guess. Joel didn’t bother keeping track of the seconds or the minutes spent splayed out over your body; he only sensed when he was starting to go soft and you wriggled your hips underneath. He shifted and let you flip around.

His cock now completely out and a smile touching your lips as you turned to face him, your gaze flitted to his.

“Can you go get me one of your shirts, please?”

You were also both stark naked, thanks to the lightning-quick stripdown you’d both done the second you’d made it to the bedroom. Though Joel was sleepy, he knew the routine: get you a shirt, get him a clean pair of boxers, and get the two of you off to sleep. It’d been a long day.

“Yes, dear,” he answered dutifully.

He pressed a kiss to the tip of your nose before rising. He padded his slow, heavy feet over to the dresser at the opposite end of the room, and he opened the top drawer.

“Second one, please. With the flannels,” you called out.

Okay.

Joel snagged a pair of underwear for himself, then went to the next drawer to get you a flannel to wear, since the scorching heat of your house evidently wasn’t enough to keep you warm. He smiled to himself, about to crack a wiseass comment about you being cold-blooded or something, when the man was obliged to stop. He took one look inside, dropped his boxers, and paused a spell.

When Joel started again, it wasn’t to speak—he just turned and lifted the first thing he saw in the drawer.

“Wha—oh, shoot. I was supposed to wrap that,” you said swiftly, wincing as he held it. Still smiling at him, though.

“Seems a little small to be a gift for me, don’t you think?”

In his grasp was a miniature onesie. Beneath it, in the drawer you’d directed him to, there had been at least four more just like it. All soft, pastel-colored, and small.

Your smile stretched even wider as you shook your head.

“It’s from Maria and Tommy. More of a…future present, for the two of us,” you shrugged, pushing to sit up in bed.

Joel eyed you a moment. He wasn’t sure what to say.

On your face, he saw hope and excitement etched bright. Like you were fine to keep waiting on this ‘future,’ no matter the duration. One glimpse of that and Joel felt a lump the size of his fist in his throat. He walked over.

And it had to be the last thing you wanted to see, surely—him setting the onesie down, dropping beside you in bed, then fumbling gracelessly, uselessly, to hold you.

Feeling every bit the remorseful, too-old man who couldn’t give you what you wanted. He wanted it, too.

“I’m sorry, honey,” he blurted out, unthinking. He pulled you to his chest; within his own, his heart was pounding, “I know…I know it’s taking us awhile. That’s my fault—”

“Joel.”

“My cum’s as old as dust and that’s probably why—”

“You don’t—”

“—you aren’t pregnant yet. I know it’s frustrating for—”

“Seriously, Joel—”

“—you to deal with. All of that disappointment, I mean—”

“JOEL.”

“What?”

His pulse was still thudding away. You blinked once.

Then, in a slow but deliberate path, your gaze trailed over to the nightstand. Joel’s followed after in similar fashion.

“You still haven’t opened your present,” you said. Stern.

It wasn’t the tone Joel had been expecting to hear at all.

And when you handed him the box, he felt his blood pressure spike. Absently, he thought that couldn’t be safe for a man his age. He couldn’t even tell what it held, and still, the prospect of it had him anxious beyond words. He turned it over; something rattled inside.

‘Go on, Joel.’ Your voice coaxed him gentler then.

And he did, though his fingers trembled some.

The weight in his grip could’ve been an ounce, a pound, or a ton, and his hands would’ve shaken all the same. Joel felt a current pulse through him as he slid the lid off.

Then he just stared.

His eyes widened.

“That’s…”

“Exactly what I have been trying to give you all night!” You laughed. The sound was light, not derisive or cruel.

When he looked up to you, your cheeks were as full and high as he’d seen them all day—you were smiling so big.

That made him think that this wasn’t a joke. Or a dream.

Surely his brain couldn’t have contrived both the most perfect, blinding smile on your face and a slim, white, pink-capped little stick with a ‘+’ on the screen at once.

It still hadn’t hit him completely, though, so he blinked.

“Really?” His voice was hoarse. Vacillating.

“Really.” Yours was more certain. Happy.

And, while the truth of it was slow to seep in, Joel knew he couldn’t waste another moment. He didn’t think—just pulled you in and squeezed you to him as tight as a vice. He couldn’t think—the rush of his blood in his ears and the puffs of your breath and the clatter of that positive pregnancy test in its box, discarded, were all too much.

As soon as he squeezed, your next breath was a sob.

“I meant to tell you, Joel. I meant to. I’m…I’m sorry.”

Your confession came out muffled against his chest, though Joel heard it all with total clarity. In a blink, he had you drawn back a little, just so he could hold your face and search your gaze with his own in a wide look.

Before he could even speak, he saw the tears welling up, as if coming from nowhere. You were still trying to smile.

“It’s been weeks. Since…since my period. I just—” With a wince that could’ve shredded Joel’s insides in two, you went on, “—I couldn’t stand disappointing you again.”

The same way he’d felt. Why you couldn’t tell him.

“Baby, hey, no— no. No, no, no. Please don’t say that.”

It was all Joel could do to keep his own emotions at bay.

“After the last time, and the— and the way you looked so happy at the thought of being a dad, I…I…had to be sure. Maria got me a test, and we triple-checked.” You sniffled.

Moving to wipe at tears as if any of this was your fault. Joel’s thumbs only grew more fervent in their path to smear the moisture away, and his head kept shaking back and forth—‘No, sweetheart, that’s not on you. Don’t even think that. Come here.’—as he tried to be a comfort. He couldn’t be happier. He hoped you were too. While tears engulfed his hands, he hoped you would be.

Even if his bones were old and his knees were weaker than he wanted them to be; even if you couldn’t count on two hands how many years stretched out between you and the decades made it seem like forever to the people in town. Even if this baby was the first, and last, you had.

Joel just wanted you happy.

It was all he could ask to have.

“We’re gonna be parents,” you said, half in awe.

You blinked harder and more tears slid down, but the look behind them was brighter. Your eyes were on his.

“We’re gonna be parents,” Joel repeated, “You and me.”

Then he pinched your puffy, wet cheeks, pictured a baby that looked the tiniest bit like you, and he had to lean in. He kissed slower than he meant to—had to savor you.

A baby.

His baby.

Your eyes were a little wider when he pulled away.

“Happy with your present, daddy?” you teased.

Joel blinked, and he thought of the dozen-odd boxes he had laid out under the tree downstairs—all for you to unwrap in the morning—and he realized then that you had him soundly beat in the gift department that year. Though none of what he’d bought could even hope to hold a candle to what you’d given him tonight, there were still ways to try and make it up. Say thank you.

“I love my present. And I love you.” Joel answered softly.

And just as you smiled, were about to slide back under the covers and tell him you loved him just as much, he grabbed your ankle. Started to lower himself after you.

Your eyes widened more.

“Joel Miller.”

His smirk widened right back.

“One more present before bed?”

You might’ve rolled your eyes, but you let him climb over you just the same. You felt his weight shift over yours, sensed a familiar stir in the depths of your body, and peered up to meet a matching smile you knew you’d find.

Joel was beaming from ear to ear like this was the luckiest day he’d lived to see. Like he couldn’t wait to show how glad he was to be a dad—over and over again.

“Just wanna make sure we made it…stick, y’know?”

He was grinning now. Gently laying you down.

You sighed, smiled, and spread your legs.

“Too late. You’re stuck with me, Miller.”

“Yeah? I like the sound of that.”

“What?”

“Stuck.”

[woso-dreamzzz]

Surgery: Christmas

Mapi Leon x Ingrid Engen x Child!Reader

Summary: Christmas with Cub

"We could get her another cat?"

"We're not getting her another cat!"

It's strangely difficult to find ideas for Christmas presents to give a little girl that's only obsessed with cats, the washing machine and baking.

Your mothers can't exactly buy you your own washing machine or an electric mixer or, god forbid, another massive cat for you to carry around and insist isn't fat, isn't a complete monster or isn't the absolutely worst enemy of your mothers.

One of those worst enemies, your incredibly fat tabby Garfield, sits on the kitchen counter attempting to bat open a box of cereal to feed his never ending hunger.

Mapi and Ingrid ignore him, knowing that sooner or later this burst of energy will leave and he will amble off to a sunspot so he can nap away the rest of the day.

"Mami!" A call comes from your bedroom. "I'm stuck again!"

Mapi scrubs a hand over her face. "Just a minute, cub! I'm coming!" She turns back to Ingrid. "Definitely a no to the cat?"

Ingrid sighs. "No more cats."

"Just trying to make it easier on us!"

"Go and help our kid put on her t-shirt. I've got this."

But Ingrid very much doesn't have this. It shouldn't be this difficult to find a Christmas present for you but you're such a content kid. You've already got toys and the tv and the washing machine and the cats.

There's not really much else you want or need.

You're no help either, of course, because when Ingrid asks, you just reply with a simple:

"Er...I can get more time in yours and Mami's bed?"

So, it was very clear that you didn't quite know what you wanted for Christmas either apart from, clearly, curling up in Mapi and Ingrid's bed with them and probably kicking Mapi in her sleep.

Ingrid spends weeks stewing over what she and Mapi could get you. They'd gotten you a few throw away things like a new yellow digger after your last one fall off the balcony and smashed into the pavement below and a cute little necklace that doubled as identification with things like your name and had Mapi and Ingrid's numbers on them in case you ever went missing in a crowded area.

In the end, it's Frido that comes to her and Mapi's rescue, throwing out an idea at random during lunch when Aitana takes you up to the buffet to find some chicken.

It's a throwaway comment but with Mapi and Ingrid struggling to work out what else they could get you, they cling to it like a lifeline. They're fairly easy presents to source, something that Ingrid is glad for because she's cutting it abnormally close to Christmas day to get everything sorted.

"Mami..."

There's a crackle on the monitor that has Mapi stirring awake.

"Maaaami."

Mapi counts to ten in her mind before rolling out of bed, kissing a still sleeping Ingrid on the cheek and making her way out to your room.

"Merry Christmas, cub," She says as she pushes open your bedroom door," I see you've got company."

All of the cats seem to have migrated to your bed overnight.

Garfield, as usual, is laying on his back after (presumably) being used as a stuff animal for most of the night. Bagheera sits by your feet, grooming herself primly while the monstrous León-León stands nearby, tail flicking from side to side as he stares.

"We had Christmas cuddles," You say happily," And now we have the gingerbread?"

"We'll have to wait. Mama is still asleep."

"Why?"

"Huh? Why is Mama still asleep? She's tired."

"But why?"

"Because she was busy making sure everything was good for today."

"But why?"

Mapi scrubs a hand over her face. "You know what, let's go eat that gingerbread. Then we'll go and get your Mama."

You wiggle happily all the way to the kitchen, where Mapi lifts you up onto the counter so you can have a breakfast of the gingerbread you and Ingrid made last night and so Mapi can stop you from running into their room before Ingrid is awake enough to function.

The cats come running in as soon as they hear the rattling of their dishes - though Garfield kind of lumbers in, far behind León-León and Bagheera but still manages to steal most of the food.

Mapi does a pretty good job of stopping you going for the presents until Ingrid finally gets up, a nice warm mug of coffee waiting for her and an overly excited child trying to shove some gingerbread into her mouth.

"Tha-Thanks, Cub," Ingrid laughs as she pushes away one of your sticky little hands from where it's trying to shove biscuit into her mouth," But I'm fine with my coffee."

"It's good," You say through your own full mouth and Ingrid laughs.

"I know because it was made by us, with lots of love." Ingrid kisses the tip of your nose. "But really you should eat it all yourself."

"Really?"

"Really-really," Ingrid insists and you giggle, kicking your feet happily as you finally settle on her lap, sprinkling gingerbread crumbs everywhere as you move.

Garfield, as he always does whenever there's food to spare, comes ambling over to eat them all up.

Usually, Ingrid would scold him but Mapi's coming over with presents and she decides that even the cats can get away with things they usually wouldn't today.

"Are you ready for presents?" Ingrid asks, bouncing her knee so you burst into a round of giggles.

"Presents!"

Mapi and Ingrid exchange triumphant looks as you tear open your presents.

Your new ID necklace is placed snugly around your neck immediately, ready for in case you get lost during the walk your mothers have planned later that day.

You take great delight in placing your new yellow digger with all of your other construction toys in the corner of the room next to your little wooden set of tools.

"Mama! Mami! It's CAT!"

It's truly a surprise how many CAT themed things the club has managed to make in such a short amount of time. It's even more surprising just how much stuff they can buy for so cheap a price with their team member discounts.

But, perhaps the most surprising of all is how much the club was willing to just straight up give to them in return for just a few pictures of you with CAT the mascot.

It's not shocking to the staff and fans alike who the biggest CAT fan is and, while you do regularly appear on Mapi and Ingrid's Instagrams, it's a rarer feat to see you featured on the team's.

But, with just three pictures of you with CAT and a very cute video of you nearly taking the mascot of their feet in an attempt to hug them, Mapi and Ingrid received a bundle of CAT merch in return.

"It is CAT," Mapi laughs," It's a t-shirt with CAT on it!"

"And a keyring! And a new mug!" Ingrid continues as you rip open your presents, getting more and more excited the more CAT things you see.

"CAT's my second best friend," You tell Mapi and Ingrid earnestly in the next hour as you all take a nice walk together through the park.

"Oh, yeah?" Mapi says," And who's your best friend?"

"You and Mama," You reply.

"Oh, cub," Ingrid coos," That's so swe-"

"And Bagheera and Garfield and León-León."

Mapi laughs. "There it is."

[smuttysabina]

Hoe Hoe Hoes

(Aria & Celine & Tina x Santa Claus, 1.9K words) Tags: Yeah its Santa smut, what are you going to do about it; That's right, these three get their backs blown out by Ol' Saint Nicks' dick; Mostly normal sex; Enormous amounts of cum, A Christmas Miracle occurs, The trio save Christmas!

Twas the night before Christmas, and all through the house, not a creature was stirring, not even a mouse; except of course, for the gooners, cocks a-grip, pumping their meat for their favorite ship. But all was not well this Christmas Eve, for many their balls were as blue as the snow, furiously masturbating for their teasing, favorite hoes. A trio of streamers, fair Aria, Celine, and Tina, prancing around their kitchen, filling their fans with Yuletide cheer, yet never enough to bring their orgasms near. What a tragedy it would be then, for such a frosty mass to remain un-spilt, surely these slutty ladies should be wracked by guilt? But the Big Man was watching, his eyes a-smolder, for this was an issue he could not let molder; It was time to get down to business, on this very White Christmas...

The trio of girls are laughing tiredly when they turn off their stream, after an exhausting night cooking and playing with one another, they were ready to let off some steam! Aria was fanning her exposed cleavage, her face flushed from alcohol, her juicy thighs warm in the humid air of the room as she prances around in her mini-dress. Celine meanwhile was almost completely covered up in her onesie, though her own sizable bust was also on full display, even a shy girl likes to show off some times! And while her chest might have been tiny compared to the other two, Tina's outfit was as slutty as Aria's, highlighting her petite body's modest assets. Giggling and clutching at one another, they stagger happily into the living room to enjoy their festive decorations and relax by the fireplace. But something magical was in the air that night, for just as soon as they snuggled up, they heard something banging down their chimney. Which was somewhat problematic considering their fireplace was electric, and there was in fact, no chimney at all; and yet nonetheless out from the fireplace emerged the Big Man himself. The girls gasp in shock as the familiar red shape appears, Santa was here to deliver their presents! 'Santa!" the three squeak with delight, to which Santa gravely responds, "Hoe, hoe, hoe," he points at them, "You've been very naughty this year young ladies!"

The streamers gawp in horror, how could this be, they had been so kind and giving to their communities this year! Why, in their last stream they had done so much fanservice, surely their beloved viewers were satisfied by all of that memorable content? But Ol' Saint Nick (Lion of the Church, Defender of the Orthodoxy, Vanquisher of the Arian Heresy, Champion of Nicaea) was having none of their excuses, they had been spreading a noticeably un-holiday cheer this season, what good was a gorgeously wrapped present if there was nothing inside? Therefore, they were all on the naughty list! The trio wail in despair at this proclamation, surely there was something they could do to set things right? There was still time for them to save Christmas! The Jolly Man nods approvingly at their enthusiasm, that's just why he was here, to help them spread the true joy and love of Christmas! And so with a merry laugh, he pulls down his pants to reveal ten throbbing inches of holiday cheer. "Wow!" gasps Celine "Oh my god, Santa!" squeals Tina 'Why the fuck is Santa hung like reindeer?" groans Aria

The girls gather around Santa's Christmas Tree, nervous at the sheer size of it, but determined to get back on the good list no matter what; they owed it to their fans to end the year on a good note! Aria and Celine hesitantly unlimber their hefty breasts, kneeling around The Big Man, they glance at one another before squishing their tits around his shaft. Tina meanwhile puts the star on the tree, licking Santa's tip before straining her mouth to fit it inside, she sucks dutifully upon it with her arms around the other's waists. The busty pair rub their boobs up and down his shaft, falling into a synchronized rhythm, their faces flushing as their dual-tittyfuck starts to excite them as well. Aroused by their unusual situation, the girls are filled by the Holy Spirit, their pussies dripping as they throw away their inhibitions and get down to the serious business of naughtily decorating Santa's Christmas Tree with their sweaty pillows. Their tongues lolling excitedly, they croon and beg for it, while Tina moans encouragingly with her tongue hard at work slathering his cockhead with merriment. With a mighty groan Ol' Saint Nick gifts the girls some presents from his capacious sack, his load erupting into Tina's pretty mouth before it overflows and spews out over the other girl's chests and faces. Tina swallows frantically before gasping in disbelief, "It tastes like eggnog?"

But their penance is far from over, and the streamers lustfully bend over for Santa, stripping out of their festive outfits to show off their bodies more easily for him. Side-by-side with their butts pressed together, the girls eagerly look back as they await their infusions of holiday cheer; their cunts drooling down their thighs in anticipation. Father Christmas has a twinkle in his eye as he grasps Tina's tiny waist to hold her steady, his enormous sleigh pushing into her petite pussy; dashing deep into her snow. There must have been something magical in the air that night, because Tina's usually cramped cunt took every inch of Ol' Saint Nick's dick, her taut belly bulging with the evidence of a Christmas miracle! Her legs quiver as Santa plows her, stretching out her insides and filling her tummy with a warm love and goodwill. Tina is shuddering when Santa pulls out, and now it is Celine's turn to experience the joy of the Christmas Season. She groans as her stomach swells, her weighty breasts clapping together as they sway ponderously from his slow and steady thrusts; by the time Santa is finished with her, his north pole is slick with her frosting. Then it is on to Aria, who moans loudly as her stocking gets stuffed, her saggy tits flopping wildly around her chest as her guts get rearranged by the Big Man himself.

That Jolly Old Soul then spends some time switching between the streamers, sampling their holes and bringing them to the brink of ecstatic jubilation before moving on. After several rounds of this, it is Aria who breaks first. She begs for, her tongue sticking out and her eyes rolling, her hips bucking uncontrollably as she slams herself back against Santa, screeching for release. But Ol' Saint Nick is unfazed, his candy cane unyielding as her pussy spasms all around it, painting his sack with her own icing; only when she has finished does he. Aria wails with delight as her womb is flooded with sticky holiday cheer, collapsing onto the floor so that she is only being held up by the cock inside of her; she was now most definitely not on the naughty list anymore!

As Aria slides bonelessly off of the North Pole, Tina is right there to replace her, eagerly stepping forward with her arms behind her back, the very paragon of demureness. But Ol' Saint Nick is not fooled by her false innocence, and in a flash she is hoisted into the air, and then impaled upon his chimney. Tina carols loudly as her tiny pussy is once more stretched beyond normal capacity, every festive inch slipping inside of her until her lower lips are smearing Aria's leavings off of his fireplace. She clutches at his chest as she is lifted up and down his shaft, unable to do anything other than paint the floor with her love for Father Christmas. His mighty hands grip her petite butt tightly, and suddenly Tina's mind goes blank as the Spirit of Christmas fills her, his eggnog pouring within her until she feels as if she were about to burst. But when the slut was left sprawling on the floor, not a drop leaked out, a Yuletide surprise that left her tummy swollen with good tidings.

Celine was the last, and like a charitable girl she waited with her legs wide open, ready to give Father Christmas what she had denied to her fans for so long. She groans as her fertile body is squished beneath his awesome weight, but she merrily wraps her legs around him nonetheless as he enters her; she doesn't mind this sort of thing at all. Celine trembles as Santa Claus goes to town on her defenseless pussy, his balls jingling as the slap against her palpitating asshole, and soon a slick signal of her submission spreads down her crack. Her toes twitch in the air with every thrust, her sweet voice lilting high as she affirms her love of Christmas in the most jolly way possible. Only after Ol' Saint Nick has plowed some courage into Celine does he give her the most precious gift of all, and joy surges through her along with his seed.

Aria and Tina cease their furious masturbating and scurry over to join Celine, helping her up onto her knees as they eagerly wait for what they know must come next. They squish their faces together, all of them kneading their breasts like dough as they open their mouths wide as if singing. Santa waxes his pole right in front of them, knees bent as he readies to give the girls one last present before he must fly away. The trio pant for it, begging, assuring him that they are good girls now, sloppily making out as they grope one another; they wanted to try some more eggnog! Ol' Saint Nick lets out one last mighty groan, as he plasters the girls with icing, blowing snow all over their faces and down their chest, coating their hair with a thick layer of frost. The streamers sputter and gasp, swallowing the ropes that land in their mouths, licking it off one another in a frenzy of lust. By the time they were finished, the Big Man had vanished, but he had left one last surprise for them. A pile of presents, filled to the brim with phallic objects of all sorts, dongs the churned and whirred and vibrated, enough to put on a degenerate nativity play. The girls gasp as they look at the clock, there was still time for them to save Christmas! Gleefully, Aria, Celine, and Tina scoop up armfuls of toys and lubricant and dash back into the kitchen hammering the camera on and sending out blast-emails and posts to all and sundry to cum join them for fresh Christmas festivities!

The stream that would last for thirty-seven cum-soaked minutes before being shut down when a mod finally finished draining his balls and realized he should maybe put a stop to things. It would set a record for late-night viewer counts that would only be surpassed years later. But perhaps most importantly, Christmas had indeed been saved, and several gallons of pent-up semen had been emptied. And for forever after, the three hoes would be sure to remain on the naughty list...

[chrisisvbun]

three soldiers. 40s!steve rogers & 40s!bucky barnes x chubby!fem reader x origins!logan howlett.

synopsis: steve, bucky and logan, three soldiers that were hanging out in a bar, lay eyes on a beautiful woman that seems to be their type, and instead of fighting for whoever will have you, they solve things like mature men they are: having a foursome.

cw: foursome, triple penetration (jeez gurl) sweet steve, rough bucky and logan, slight bi!logan, mentions of gay sex, anal, unprotected piv, crempie, oral (both m and f), dom!logan, dom!bucky, dom!steve (mentions of sub Steve tho), chubby reader, slight mention of insecurities, fluff, aftercare.

words: 4k (I'm sorry.)

a ten nsfw chapter series masterlist.

Bucky and Steve's drinks were already empty by the time Logan approached to hang out.

The three of them were soldiers, they shared experiences, people they met, women they slept with, and they found out they shared a taste: plump, chubby women. A girl with flesh to grab, grip, bite. Extra flesh was amazing for the three of them, anywhere in the female (or male) body: tummy, hips, thighs, arms, cheeks, breasts, ass, everything was welcome.

And it's just their luck that you walk in. A gorgeous plump woman, with chubby rolls, fat thighs, broad hips, soft skin, and gorgeous cheeks that made your under eyes wrinkle when you smiled.

As you walked in, the three of them follow your body with their eyes, and where they place their eyes betray them in what they are attracted too. Bucky's eyes were staring al your fat, big thighs, and how you squeeze them together. Steve, ashamed of himself for looking at you so bluntly, was looking straight at your breasts, the cut of your dress showing how big and soft they are. And Logan, Logan was enamored with that tummy of yours, those rolls that press and show in your fat body so beautifully, in such a precious way that had him drooling. He wanted it even fatter with his baby there, but that's just the animalistic instinct talking.

So they had a bit of a chat, trying to figure out which of them was going to approach, and finally, they decided that, why not the three of them? If you backed off, the one that had more chemistry with you could try by himself.

"Hi there." Bucky smirked at you, leaning against the counter with Steve by his side and Logan from behind.

"Add what she has to my tab." Logan said, his eyes still looking down at you while he passed his card to the bartender.

"Are you all by yourself here?" Bucky said again.

"Uhm, yeah..." You said, shyly, which made the three men smirk.

"Lookin' too cute to be by yourself." Logan said from behind you, putting a strand of hair behind your ear. You blushed, you eyes glancing at the three men.

"Guys, we are intimidating her." Steve spoke up, and offered you his hand. You grabbed it shyly, and he kissed your knuckles. "I'm Steve Rogers."

"Bucky Barnes." Bucky gave a tiny bow, removing his hat.

"And that's Logan." Steve nodded at the mentioned, who was still enamored with your figure and your hair.

"Hi." He smiled at you, and his grin widened when you smiled back.

"So, doll, you sure you are alone here? No other men?" Bucky asked, crossing his arms.

You smiled. "Just the three of you."

"Three is a lot, isn't it?" Steve said, smirking at you while his eyes moved all over your body.

"it's not that big a number." You said, starting to get the situation.

"Really? Think you can take three?" Logan's voice was almost in your ear, his hand moved to your broad waist, squeezing it and making you gasp.

"M-maybe... I-" You swallowed, your eyes moving between the three of them. "I won't know until I try."

(...)

Logan said that his apartment was a good place, and it definetly was, he said he had the biggest bed, and the biggest mirror that covered the wall next to the bed.

And during the car ride, Logan was driving with Steve next to him, and Bucky already worked up, all over you. His hands gripped your thighs, kissing your cheek, your neck, your chest, while mumbling sweet praises. "So pretty, so soft..."

You gasped when he sat you on his lap, his hands gripping your ass like his hands where made to be there, and making out with you. His tongue was about to get all hungry inside of your mouth, until he had a taste of your sweet lips, automatically melting on your kiss. Your hands grabbed fists of his brunette hair, Bucky's hands moving under your dress to squeeze the flesh of you backside.

"Love birds." Logan called, you removed your lips from his, your lipstick over Bucky's lips and surroundings, and of course, all over your too. "We are here."

Before you could climb off his lap, Bucky lifted you easily in his broad arm, and like that, he removed all the insecurities you had about your weight, because he closed the door with one arm, while the other was under your thighs.

"Comfortable?" Steve smiled sweetly to you, and almost like he could read your mind, he kissed your sweetly while being held by Bucky. "You are beautiful, my God." He smiled between kisses, and allowing himself to move a hand to one of your big breasts. He moaned and pulled away. "Logan, be quick."

"Relax, pretty boys." Logan opened his apartment door, pushing it open to let the three of you in. "Uh-uh-uh." He stopped Bucky. "My turn."

Bucky rolled his eyes and let you stand on the floor. Before you could miss the touch of Steve and Bucky, Logan's hands were all over you from behind, gripping your waist, your breasts, your thighs, your stomach, while grunting on your ear.

"You are not that innocent, aren'tcha?" He said and kissed the shell of your ear, both of you watching Steve and Bucky removed his jackets and belts. "Takin' three men, three soldiers, you are charming, you are beautiful, this isn't your first rodeo, isn't it?"

You giggled a bit, caressing his big arms. "It isn't, but I never had three." You said, blushing. Logan chuckled, kissing your cheek.

"So sweet, I want to binge on you." He groaned and he began to trail open-mouth kisses over your neck, holding your hair behind. "Boys, let's get the princess ready."

(...)

Logan wasn't lying when he described his bedroom, he was totally right.

You were making out with Steve, he laying between your legs and holding your back to have stability. Bucky was already shirtless, Logan was watching Steve and you making out, on his white tank top and smoking a cigar.

"Steve, let the girl breath." Logan puffed out the smoke.

"Yeah, we are supposed to share." Bucky teased, lying between where Logan was sitting and where you were lying with Steve.

Bucky's hand cupped the back of your neck to kiss you, your hand went to his chest while Steve began to kiss your neck.

The differences between the best friends were clear. Steve was sweet and gentle, his bites and kisses were like cuddles in your skin, while Bucky was rough and desperate, his teeth sank on you lips and neck, trying to make you bleed, everything under Logan's gaze.

Steve's sweet hands pulled off the sleeves of your dress, kissing your shoulders and all the new skin exposed. Bucky hooked a finger on Steve's shirt.

"Take this off, man." He said as he pulled him away from your skin to be the one kissing it.

Steve rolled his eyes and removed his shirt. "You are not joining, Logan?" Steve said.

Logan checked him out a second and smirked. "I'm good watching you three for now, pretty boy, don't worry 'bout me." He winked at him, taking another drag of his cigar.

Steve chuckled, a slight blush on his cheeks. He moved to you again, pulling your dress down to leave you in your white bra and lacy blue underwear.

"Wanna get down?" Now, Steve had pulled Bucky's hair, and consequently, Bucky was removed from your skin.

His bright blue eyes moved to you, looking for your agreement. When you nodded eagerly, he smirked, and quickly began to pull down your panties and get between your legs.

You looked down at him, breathing heavily as he began to lick your slit, his warm tongue on your most sensitive part. You moaned, and your hand moved to press him more against you, a sign that allowed him to begin devouring your cunt.

Your whimpers were silenced but a pair of lips, that tasted like smoke and mint. You quickly recognize Logan's cologne, your hand moved to his hair too, kissing him hungrily while moaning against his lips.

Steve, of course, didn't want to be the four-wheel, so he unhooked your bra. His eyes brightened at the sight of your big breasts, and he started to kiss them both, squeezing them in his broad palms. He moaned against your flesh like he had never seen a pair of tits in his life.

You were overstimulated by this point. If you had to choose, Logan was the best kisser: sweet and rough at the same time, he had that cocky smirk that slipped between kisses every time you moaned. Bucky ate your cunt like it was his favorite meal: messy and hungry, his tongue lapped in your clit and when you started to get used to that, we would fuck you with his tongue, his warm muscle in and out of your tight entrance. And Steve, that sweet mother fucker was worshiping your body like you were a goddess, his hands gripped your flesh, not wanting to let you go ever. And even with his sweet nature, he covered your tits with hickeys and bite marks, he sucked your nipples and pinched them violently.

Bucky's tongue was having his wet dream coming true. A wet, fat cunt like yours, with such a sweet taste, such a responsive body with it. His head was squeezed against your thighs just like he wanted, like he had dreamt the second he layed eyes on you.

"Gonna take turns or is your friend gonna eat her out until we get tired?" Logan asked, obviously rhetorically.

"From my point of view, he looks like he is more into the second one." Steve said, his breathing ragged as he looked down at Bucky, his head squeezed in your big thighs. That mother fucker was having his fantasy coming true.

Logan rolled his eyes but his harsh look softened when he found your face: a pleasure pout, puffy red face, lips parted, heavy breath, and your little whimpers.

"Looks like Bucky is getting the first orgasm of the night." Logan teased.

"Fi-first?" You asked, whiny.

"What? You thought you would have only one orgasm with three men?" Logan raised his eyebrows in a chuckle. "Darlin', you are gonna walk out of here dry, if you can walk once we are done with you."

"What Logan means is that we have a lot of stamina on us, we are gonna take great care of you." Steve said, as he kissed your shoulder gently.

You squeaked when you felt the intrusion of Bucky's fingers inside of you, he smirked up at you as he rubbed your clit with his rough thumb, his face glistering with your slick. "C'mon, doll, lemme have the first." He said while kissing your thigh.

The knot in your tummy snapped in the second he pressed the tip of his fingers in your spongy spot, wetting the blankets under you and Bucky's hand.

"That's it, veery good." Logan soothed you, caressing your hair as you came out of your high.

Bucky removed your legs from his shoulders. "I'll take the ass"

"I'll take the front." Steve said quickly.

Logan rolled his eyes, making you giggle. He sighed dramatically. "Guess I'll have your pretty mouth then." He amirked, you giggled a bit again and he pressed a sweet kiss on your lips.

Steve removed his pants and boxers, sitting against the headboard, and helping you sit on top of him, kissing you sweetly.

"I'll be gentle, 'Kay?" He said with those sweet eyes in yours. You smiled and nodded, kissing you again.

He slowly began to sink you on his long cock, until his balls were pressed against your ass. You squeezed his shoulders, as he kissed your face to soothe you. You heard Bucky chuckle.

"If she is having problems with him, imagine what's gonna do with you." He said to Logan.

"W-what?" You said, looking at them from behind your shoulder.

"Logan is... pretty big, yeah." Bucky chuckled.

"And... and Steve is not?" You tried to understand.

"Oh, no, it's just... I'm definitely not bigger than him." He also chuckled. You almost looked scared. "You are gonna do perfect, sugar." Steve kissed your face again, as he began to rock upwards to you, slow and gentle.

All your worries dissappear once his cock began to kiss your sweet spots, briefly as he rocked against you, grunting under his breath.

"So tight, Jesus..." He threw his head back a second, but instantly moved back to kiss you, this time hungrier and deeper.

His hands grabbed your ass to move you up and down on his length, the clapping sound of his skin against yours filling the whole room.

Riding Steve was like a dream, you felt so loved and treasured, and surely you weren't expecting that in this kind of situation. His eyes looked at you like you were the most beautiful woman he had ever seen, his hands grabbed you like you were delicate, made of porcelain. He kissed you like you were the woman of his life.

You heard the sound of fabric being removed and turned your head to see Bucky finally removing his pants. And while Steve kissed your neck as you rode him, you gasped at the sight of Bucky's cock. It had the same length as Steve's, which was already long, but it was way fatter, enough to make you doubt if it would fit in your virgin ass.

He spread the lube over his shalft, pumping it a few times before he got behind you.

"Don't you dare to stop." He smacked your ass, kissing the nape of your neck. "Gonna get you ready, and you are gonna keep riding him like a good girl, alright?" You nodded with whiny little sounds. "Very good." He smiled, peppering kisses on your neck as his big finger covered in lube began to sink in your back entrance.

You squealed at the intrusion, but you didn't stop riding Steve. The blonde kissed you, trying to soothe you from the possible pain, but there was not such thing, only raw pleasure.

After you got used to one, Bucky sank another, moving it in a scissors way to stretch you out. He whispered soft praises in your ear, telling you how well you were taking him, how tight and warm you were.

"I need you to relax, doll." He said in your ear, slowly removing his fingers. "Can you take a deep breath for me?" You nodded, inhaling, retaining, and by the second you exhaled, Bucky was already sinking his tip in.

"Oh god!" You moaned, hugging Steve's neck.

Now, you had both friends rocking against you, filling you up, getting you cockdumb with a few thrusts. Steve was hitting your cervix beautifully, while Bucky was using your tight ass, gripping your hips to rock against you harshly.

"Having a good time without me I see." Logan teased, finishing his cigar.

You looked at him, tears filling your eyes at the overwhelming pleasure that you were feeling. He removed his belt and then his tank top. You were drooling, literally, against Steve's neck, between moans, at the sight of his enormous body, that you didn't notice when he pulled off his pants, showing that Bucky and Steve where right.

He was longer than Steve, fatter than Bucky, it had a long, thick vein that started in his happy trail and finished in his tip. You were thanking and blaming God that you didn't have him in your ass or your cunt, because he was definitely gonna rip you open.

He stood in front of you, pressing his tip on your parted lips. You kissed it messily, his tip already covered in your saliva, trying to fit it in your mouth slowly due to the movements of your body. You stayed still, letting Steve jackhammer you while Bucky fucked you from behind, and slowly slid his cock in your mouth, fitting half of it.

"Can't take it?" He mocked you. "Guess I'll have to take your cunt once blondie finishes."

He grunted when your tongue moved around his thickness, pulling your hair to keep your head still, until you began to move it back and forth, gagging as you tried to take more of him

"Fuck sake..." Logan grunted loudly.

"L-language." Steve said between groans.

"Shut up or I'll use your ass as my sex toy." He threatened and laughed when noticed by your reaction that his cock throbbed inside of you at the idea.

Steve rocked against you harder, Bucky hugged your body from behind, both of them trying to get you over the edge.

Your eyes widened when both men hit your spot almost at the same time, making you clench around them as your orgasm snapped, coming all over Steve's cock and dripping into the blankets again.

Weakly, you kept sucking Logan off, your tongue lining that thick vein and giving the tip some kitten licks that made him smile between groans.

A couple of thrusts inside of you and Steve came inside of you, his thick release painting your cunt. Your legs shivered at the warm feeling, and you had to remove Logan's cock from your mouth to take a breath. But his hand moved you to make out with his cock again, showing that he wasn't done with you

Bucky's thrusts began to get irregular and messy, his pace already ruined, and with a shaky moan, he pressed head in your shoulder and his hips against your ass, which was dripping his cum in that very second.

"S-sorry..." He apologized, already sensitive, but the shaky laugh that came out after that showed that he wasn't sorry at all. "I cum a lot." He chuckled, staying inside as you kept sucking off Logan.

You were already exhausted, burnt out, and Logan could see that. He removed your head with a little pop and kissed your cheek.

"Take a breath." He mumbled. "And you two, get off. Gonna show you how it's done." He teased, although there was some truth behind his words.

Bucky removed first, you hissed a bit as clinged to Logan, who helped you lift your hips in order to Steve to roll off. He lied you on the bed, getting between your legs and putting them on his shoulders. He kissed your ankle gently as he slid in.

You moaned weakly, mumbling something like you couldn't take it anymore.

"You sure? Because she seems to be sucking me in." He teased, slowly rocking his hips against you, Steve's cum still dripping from there.

In a second, he gripped your legs and began to fuck himself inside of you, mocking your expressions as you got overwhelmed once again with how he filled you up. You loved riding Steve, it was magical, but missionary with Logan? He hit the right spots with every movement, definetly a winner.

He suddenly stopped, looking behind him to find both young boys with their hands on their cocks, two pairs of eyes on how your tits and rolls bounced.

"You know, boys." He started. "I think there is enough room."

Your eyes darted between Logan and the two friends, slowly understanding the situation. Logan smirked when you clenched around him at the idea. "And someone here seems to like the idea."

You looked at the three men now in front of you, broad and masculine. Steve pressed your left knee in your chest while Bucky did the same with your right one, your abused hole with Logan's dick still inside now in sight.

Slowly, Bucky slid in, you whimpered at the stretch, but still taking it, breathing in and out.

"You look like you are giving birth." Bucky teased, Logan grunted.

"Don't give me ideas."

Steve gently slid half of his length in, with each inch, your moans got louder and louder, you could have come in that second.

Three cocks inside was a lot, too much, of course, but you were taking it so good that it seemed like you did this every single time.

"Such a dirty whore, taking three cocks like a champ." Logan teased, starting to slowly fuck himself inside of you.

Steve did the same, although much slower and gentle. Bucky snapped his hips against you in a quicker pace, watching how his cock disappeared inside of you.

It didn't take long for you to feel that knot in your tummy undoing itself, each thrust a little pull that threatened to snap it.

"I-I..." You babbled, just noticing you were drooling over your chin. "Cum... p-please..." You managed to pronounce.

"Cum, huh?" Bucky smirked, grunting as he kept thrusting.

"Well aren't you pretty?" Logan teased. "She is taking us so well, maybe you deserve to cum." His broad hand moved to knead your breast.

"She does, of course she does." Steve moaned low, and his rough thumb moved to your abused cunt, finding your clit and flicking it in his pad.

"Oh god!" You sobbed, gripping Logan's forearm and the bedsheets.

You threw your head back and simply allowed yourself to let it go. The room was filled with the clapping sound of skins snapping against each other, grunts, groans, growls and moans, whiny airy sounds that sometimes appeared from the men's lips.

Finally, the knot snapped undone and you came, you came a lot, there was a big stain in the bedsheets that was your art piece, and your entrance was dripping a thicker fluid that covered their cocks that, after a few thrusts, began to come, one by one.

Your core and thighs were a mess of slicks, and you, you were a shivering disaster at this point, shaking with overstimulation, your pupils dilated like you were on drugs.

Bucky was the first to cradle you in his arms, holding you against his chest while cuddling your sides.

"Get her clean, I'll change the sheets so we can rest." Logan said once he caught his breath.

Bucky lifted you easily, rocking you as he moved to the bathroom with Steve. The blond caressed your hair and kissed your face while Bucky cleaned you gently, his hands moving over your body with nothing other than affection and care. Once cleaned and dry, Logan put you on some boxers of his and one of his flannels.

"Ready to sleep, beautiful?" He asked, caressing your hair. You smiled lovingly and nodded, making him smile too and he leaned to kiss your nose.

"Here, doll." Bucky handed you a cup of tea. "That throat must hurt." He kissed the top of your head.

"You made me tea?" You asked surprised, your eyes shining at him.

"Of course I did, doll, why so surprised?" He lied in the right side of the bed, with you sitting between Logan's leg and resting your back and head on his chest, his arms around you.

"I didn't expect this, that's all." You said shyly, drinking from your beverage.

"Well, that's the bare minimum, you were so kind letting us do this with you, and you took it great." Steve said softly, kissing your forehead and laying on the other side.

"You three do this often?" You asked curiously.

"Never the three of us, Steve and I have done threesomes, but never with the old machine." Bucky elbowed Logan, who rolled his eyes.

"And it was a great experience, darlin', I must admit." Logan nuzzled against your hair, the two soldiers nodded along.

"Well, I wouldn't mind repeating it other time." You fidgeted with the cup.

"Is that so?" Steve pressed his face in your shoulder, smiling sweetly at you.

Bucky's hand move to caress your thigh. "I wouldn't mind either." He kissed your arm gently.

"Well, everyone seems happy in this situation." Logan sighed. "Guess we will have to share you, because if we do this everytime, we are gonna end up breaking you."

"I'll take the first." Steve said quickly.

"I'll take the second!" Bucky followed alone.

"Don't you think she gets the right to choose, you idiots?" Logan huffed, and you giggled.

"I'll take Logan first." You answered.

"Oh, come on!" Bucky pretended a complain.

"He earned it!" You giggled.

"Yeah, I got the apartment." Logan added along. "And I'm the eldest."

"How old are you?" You asked innocently. The three men got silent.

"You don't wanna know yet, darlin'."

[fallbhind]

my girl dick is hard rn btw thanks to perv!classmate!rafe <3 “he was getting harder every time he heard your chuckles.  and god,when you wrapped that pen between your glossy lips, he just wanted to force his fat dick against the gap of your mouth, watching you struggle to take him with those pretty eyes of yours rolling in the back until he’s crying and his tip leaking on your favorite lipstick.” if i could read this everyday all day I’d constantly stay hard. need someone to get hard listening to my chuckle &&. everything in between.

“you probably didn't know it, and it was one of his many dirty secrets, but he had a sex doll in his room that looked exactly like you and that he fucked every time he came home. he was a premature ejaculator but above all compulsive. you could be sure that this doll was fucked ten times in a row until he was out of breath, sweaty and stinking, until his hair and sheets were drenched in sweat and juices with his muscles drained and body shaking under painfully spasms.” this was so incredibly detailed in my opinion, so at least we know exactly what he does in his room as well as what it smells like.

“‘god, you're pathetic.’ you muttered before sitting next to him.  ‘did you pee your pants ? you've got a stain.’ you whispered in his ear. ‘i know what you are, cameron.’ but you were in a good mood today, so you wrote on a paper.  — meet me in the girls' bathroom upstairs. (I know how much you love this place. I'm even sure you have lots of photos of me in the cabins.)” god that’s hot mean!popular!reader is hot w pervclassmate rafe holy shadooks.

“as soon as you touched it, his stomach clenched. you were so kind to do that for him. you only thought of yourself. your fingers moved speed around his shaft while his balls slapped against his muscular thighs in motion. he was hard since this morning, so it was hurting him so bad, to the point he was terribly miserable and unsteady, just waiting for your touch since he watched you this morning in the hallways.” god nemyesyaaa ur starting to make me feel like this his something personal 😞. my girl dick got harder, making my stomach clench at the perfect description of dried cum.

“

“‘good boy, aren’t you rafe?’ you replied while gently slapping his heated cheek, before squeezing both of them between your fingers.  ‘you definitely are.’ you said, watching his face blushing under your touch. ‘y-y-es…’ ‘so you will do anything for me…?’ you asked with a smile on your lips. he nodded again. anything you wanted. absolutely anything. ‘fine…i'm gonna give you what you want.’ ‘what do you mean?’ ‘that i'm gonna use you until i'm tired of you. it's my turn to have fun. but it will stay a secret between us of course. this is my number, and i better find you all submissive when i call you.” mean!popular!reader is such a girl boss helping out perv!classmate!rafe fulfill his sexiest nightmare.

ain't nobody business // classmate!rafe cameron x mean!popular! reader

summary ; your classmate was too obssessed with you...but you were also too cool to care about him....only at first....

warnings ; 18+ smut plot. verbal violence. oral(f&m receiving). public masturbation. sub!rafe (simp obssessed and loser). nosebleeding so kind of blood. spitting. pervy behavior/needy depraved attitude. light praising. weird obssession. minors dni. be aware of the warnings before reading please.

author's note : none.

pervy classemate!rafe who's always been your biggest simp. not only had he always been a simp when it came to you, but he was totally sick and completely depraved. he was the very definition of the word pervert in its most terrible sense. he never missed a single class where you were present because he was completely obsessed with the idea of being close to you, of sharing the same space as you. he loved to hum the air you breathed because your scent was the one that intoxicated him. he was constantly at the back of the class and you were only a few feet away. he was a pathetic gooner who knew he had no chance with popular chicks  like you. your standards were — too fucking high.  you were the kook princess,  too classy, too hot, too perfect, the mean girl out of his league.

 then, he was never presentable. 

you didn't necessarily notice it because you liked to ignore the existence of your fan. but he was constantly looking at you, his blue eyes glued to every one of your moves. he was like a stalker, watching you from afar in the hallways as you walked through the crowd with your group of friends. you were the prettiest of them all, your hair was always clean and neat, your face soft and made up, your lips covered in gloss and your mouth chewing a bubblegum. you always wore skimpy outfits because it was always horribly hot even inside the school. 

he was desperately waiting for you to burst into his line of vision, his hand already stuck in his pants. his locker wasn't far from yours. there were photos of you and accessories belonging to you inside. everything you thought you throw away, he would get it back. he had a huge collection about it.

he was too freaking weird and lame — kind of the pervy freak your girlfriends make fun of it.  the kind of losers that upset you and made you roll your eyes when he was staring or talking to you. the kind of idiots that was always in your fucking way instead of getting lost somewhere you didn't care. 

but despite your mean and cold attitude toward him, rafe was always so eager to see you. 

out of the pathetic man he was, rafe cameron was big. even when his dick was limp in his boxer, a fat bulge was outlining the fabric of his underwear. when you were in the same room as him, he always felt the need to palm himself, literally stroking his aching cock through his pants as you took a seat. it was crazy because your back was only shown to him but his dick was already growing in his grip, the veins of his length bulging thick against his touch. 

he was getting harder every time he heard your chuckles.  and god,when you wrapped that pen between your glossy lips, he just wanted to force his fat dick against the gap of your mouth, watching you struggle to take him with those pretty eyes of yours rolling in the back until he’s crying and his tip leaking on your favorite lipstick. the way you swirl your tongue around the hood, leaving a trickle of drool webbing from your lips to the pen while you pretended to think, sweet moans escaping your lips as you fixed your mini skirt was too much for him. 

you were such a bitch. 

you probably didn't know it, and it was one of his many dirty secrets, but he had a sex doll in his room that looked exactly like you and that he fucked every time he came home. he was a premature ejaculator but above all compulsive. you could be sure that this doll was fucked ten times in a row until he was out of breath, sweaty and stinking, until his hair and sheets were drenched in sweat and juices with his muscles drained and body shaking under painfully spasms. when he had to jerk off, he didn't need to go to pornsites, he just needed to open your insta page. and it was even better when you posted stories because you were always half naked in them. he masturbated until his screen was covered in hot and thick spurts, his liquid hiding your face.

he was such a dreamer and you were such a fantasy. 

one time, you were in physics class in this lab-like class and you were across from him. he spent the whole time looking at your cleavage. his eyes were deep down on your boobs.  but he was also suffered from  a  painful boner that you were aware about, but was ironically under your control.  

“ want a picture of them, cameron ? ” you said with exasperation. “ because you're never gonna touch them. never in your life so stop watching. ” 

he knew it. losers like him didn't stand a chance with girls like you and that was what made him even hornier. 

sick.

the slightest contact with you was enough to ignite him. and telling him that he had no chance of touching you or going out with you made his cock bigger. 

" god, you're pathetic. ” you muttered before sitting next to him.  “did you pee your pants ? you've got a stain. ” you whispered in his ear. “ i know what you are, cameron.” 

but you were in a good mood today, so you wrote on a paper. 

— meet me in the girls' bathroom upstairs. (I know how much you love this place. I'm even sure you have lots of photos of me in the cabins.)

you kissed him on the cheek. as you were looking down on him, he just gasped while swallowing hard as you were laughing out loud with your girlfriends.

you were waiting for him  in the bathroom after class. it didn't take long for him to arrive. you had locked both of you in a cabin. he barely had time to open his mouth when you were already pulling down his pants to give him a blowjob. 

his boxer was wet and covered with dried cum. it was so gross and god so disgusting. you couldn't believe yourself that you were about to do this.

“are yo..." 

“Be quiet, Cameron. or i might kill you. ”

“ Please, you turn me on. ” he pleaded with a hard breath. 

his dick was fat and hard, literally twitching under your touch as you tried to not think too much. he was already whimpering like a crybaby when you hadn't even touched him yet.

he was in heaven. you were like a goddess for him. 

“ You really don't deserve me. and not even what i'm going to do to you. So you better not  screw that moment because it's gonna be the  first and last time a girl gonna ever touch you in your shitty life. ” 

as soon as you touched it, his stomach clenched. you were so kind to do that for him. you only thought of yourself. your fingers moved speed around his shaft while his balls slapped against his muscular thighs in motion. he was hard since this morning, so it was hurting him so bad, to the point he was terribly miserable and unsteady, just waiting for your touch since he watched you this morning in the hallways. 

he was shaky and breathy, drooling and moaning like a slut. and it was also ironic too because you were supposed to be the whore in general. but rafe cameron was one of the biggest bitch you ever seen. 

he was a kook but he was so shitty. 

“ i said be quiet. ” you ordered with a firm voice, tired of his whines. “ since you struggle to listen to me, i'm gonna put this in your mouth. better hold it tight with your teeth because if i hear another sound from you, i gonna take those high heels that you love to see me with and step on your dick with it. understand ? yea, i can give you real reasons to be noisy.  " 

you took off your underwear to stuff it in his mouth. you had hooked it tightly enough behind his head to keep him from dropping it. 

when you wrapped your mouth around his cock, you felt him shudder as you began to suck him gently. you moved your mouth as far as possible until you felt his girth at the back of your throat.  you had pushed your mouth to take all his inches, making in it fit between your lips. you were now full stuffed with his cock that was throatfucking you senseless. 

you were licking and sucking, giving him the blowjob of his life. he started to foaming at the mouth over your panties, his drool dripping from his chin to the raging dick that filled you. 

you were literally taking the saliva he was raining over you, giving no shit at this point.  when he began to move his hips, guiding the pace while fucking your throat, and you let him do as he was driving himself between your lips. a hand was tangled in your hair, getting them messy. your tongue was so soft, the sweetest he ever felt.

his lower tummy was twitching, abs flexing deep to the feeling you gave him. a sloppy head  that made him cum so fast, coating your lips with a splash of sperm, as he held the back of your neck, forcing you to gag over the fat length. you were still hot, but messy. your vision was blurred and your face was covered with his drop of white loads, and streams of saliva. mascara was dripping from your eyes, your lipstick was smudging on your cheeks and his cock, your mouth was damping with drool and small bubbles connected to his sticky soaked tip.

you sucked him again and he came five minutes later inside your throat. after that, he had stuck two fingers down your mouth. it was as if the roles had reversed for a moment because you were now his whore. 

he had started to thrust in and out, free-using your cavity while you took his fingers deep in your mouth. they were big and wet, making you gurgle terribly. his digits felt even more thicker inside you. he was brushing them against your tongue, forcing you to take them and lick them until they were nice and clean.

 

when he was satisfied, you had collected your panties, getting ready to leave. “please, die now. it's so embarrassing for me. ” you looked down and your eyes widened. “i don't mean that to see you being even bigger, cameron. you're such a trash. ”

“ please, can i touch you ? ” he was whimpering to your ears. 

“ think you deserve it ? ” you answered. “ because no, you can't. ”

he was under you, his grip so weak around your naked thigh, while he was pleading under his breath.  

he was staring at you with desperate eyes  that you agreed. “ but you're not gonna touch me. you're gonna watch only. you understand ? ”

he nodded, before getting on his knees. you took a seat in the cabin, and spread your legs, skirt on your knuckles. his hand was already on his cock, the tip leaking on the floor, as you opened your thighs wider to watch him losing his mind fully on the sight of your gleaming pussy. 

you hate yourself for being so soaked that wetness was running down your skin. rafe was now jerking himself off, his heavy and shaky breathing escaping his lips. you had brought fingers against your pussy after having moistened them then you had started to play with your lower lips with your hand before starting to caress yourself. your legs were feverish because you had already shoved three fingers inside  you. 

rafe was obsessed. you managed to drive him crazy, to dehumanize him. he had lost control when you added another finger, making it seem like you could fit the whole hand. you were so naughty, but your moans were so sweet. then the way you squirmed as you fingered yourself made him sick and perverted. “ easy pretty, you can't cum before me. ” 

but he couldn't take it anymore, he had soaked his hands from touching himself so much while he watched you fucked yourself with your fingers. “ c-can…i cum..please…” he was breathless, mouth running like a pup, eyes filled with tears as his hands were trembling over his throbbing dick. “ n-need…it…! ”

“ it's all you got, baby ? i'm disappointed. looks like someone doesn't really want to cum…” you teased, still playing with your insides. 

he knew he was stupid but you made him even dumber. when it came to you, he had nothing in his head, no self-esteem, no dignity. your fingers worked hard in your insides. the wet sounds of your digits going back and forth in your plushy canal as he was stroking himself harder. his fingers were in rhythm with yours, matching the way they were moving in your pussy. 

you were like a movie star. a fucking porn star. the one he's dreamed about in the dark of his room.

your cunt was clenching over your fingers, sliding in and out of the wetness that came from your walls. but you continued to push them deeper and deeper to bring you close. you feel your hips lifted up, your legs trembling and you find yourself on your tiptoes as you reach your digits further in your swollen cunt. rafe couldn't help himself, and moved from your place to lick at your pussy when your fingers were still inside you. he was eating you out at , tongue sticking at your drooling slit that he was lapping while golden stars were taking you away from reality. he was so needy, the way his voice was breaking into your pretty cunt. he spreaded your folds way with his tongue, lapping through the needy hole before starting to make sloppy licks. you could feel his heavy nose rubbing against your clit, stroking it gently as he was lapping and stretching your canal. 

you had to admit, he was good and if you didn't have so much ego you would let him know. but instead, you let him continue, the weight of his tongue shoving inside you, forcing you to squirm as he tickled your sensitive bud with his face. he was thrusting in and out, letting you leak your juices on his chin.

he was so deep in the thing, twirling his tongue to feel all your insides, driving his mouth so deep that he could not miss the spot, hanging his jaw open to let your wetness drip down his chin. 

he was about to pass out, living the dream of his life with you. the way your pulsing clit was rushing into his fat nose making him nuzzle stronger , slow back and forth to messy rubs. all your pussy was now so tough on him, stroking him harder, forcing him to gasp and wimps. you didn't make it stop because you were too selfish to care about what he felt. 

his mouth was working on your slit, as your clit was still evilly running the sensitive spot of his nose, getting it all wet and red until you heard a small crack from the pressure. his nose was now bleeding but that didn't stop him from pleasuring you. he was still eating at your cunt, metallic taste added to the sweet of your hole. after a wild minute, his entire face was coated with blood and seeds as he cried harder, his hands tugging the skin of your hips. 

his nose was bleeding against your bud, as a line of the red liquid was trailing over the opening of your cunt making a way to his driving tongue. he was buried inside your whole sucking you to depth with blood foaming under his teeth — so close to bleed into your folds. 

when you exploded, his tongue still fucking you, he had been so quick to swallow it all.

“ it's not gonna happen twice…” you muttered, still a little dizzy.  “And if you tell anyone, I’ll find you and kill you. And please, take a fucking shower,  Cameron. ”

“ It's Rafe. ” 

“ I know your name. I just don't care about it. ” you replied with a sigh. “ Now, i'm leaving. Stop, gooning yourself. It's so gross. ”

You began to walk away but you wanted to add something more. 

“ Did you understand ? Nod your head…”

You smiled when he obeyed. 

“Good boy, aren’t you Rafe ? ” you replied while gently slapping his heated cheek, before squeezing both of them between your fingers.  “ You definitely are.” you said, watching his face blushing under your touch. 

“ Y-y-es…” 

“ So you will do anything for me…? ” You asked with a smile on your lips. 

He nodded again.

 Anything you wanted. Absolutely anything. 

“ Fine…i'm gonna give you what you want. ”

“ What do you mean ? ”

“ That i'm gonna use you until i'm tired of you. It's my turn to have fun. But it will stay a secret between us of course. This is my number, and i better find you all submissive when i call you. ” 

[sobbingscripter]

DAY 10: Ten Lords a-Leaping

☃️Deep Strokes and Christmas Sweaters☃️

Tags: [mlw][mdni][missionary][nipple sucking][creaming][anal mentions]

❄️☃️❄️

"Your Christmas could be worse than just getting cheated on." You hum, taking a bite of your cookie as you snuggle up against Dick's side, your cheek resting against his bicep and you watch as he deletes Kori's pictures from his phone. Absentmindedly.

"Oh yeah?" Dick frowns as he tears his gaze away from his screen, looking down at you, "how could it possibly be worse?"

"It could've been with Bruce."

Dick stares at you, blue eyes narrowing and reflecting the crackling flame, and he runs his tongue along his pearly teeth, gaze turning towards the crystal chandelier hanging from the ceiling of the entertainment room.

"That's... Oddly better." He mumbles under his breath before resting back against the sofa cushions, both of you planted on the soft and luxurious carpet. Matching sweatpants and ugly Christmas sweaters, you're both absentmindedly scrolling, enjoying the comfortable silence that's only filled by the crackling fireplace and the occasional breeze that causes the ornaments to rustle against the pine leaves.

"Exactly." You hum. "And besides, I told you, never trust a girl named after a spice."

Dick lets out a laugh. Boyish and charming, dimples deepening in his tanned cheeks, and you take the time when his eyes are closed to really... Look at him.

Sculpted face, boyish features and adorable curtain bangs that frame his face so nicely. Striking blue eyes, framed by dark lashes, below thick and stupidly luxurious eyebrows.

Romani features galore.

"You're really pretty, Dick."

Your voice is soft, a quiet whisper that causes his laughter to die down, eyes fluttering open and staring at you widely, and you watch as his flesh flushes with an embarassed blush.

But then, a cocky smile dons his face, that Wayne charm seeming to leak from his ears and his lips part, but you cut him off.

"Too bad you're fucking stupid."

You humble him easily, and Dick stares at you. Before sucking his teeth.

"I should punch you in the throat for that." Dick scowls at you, jaw clenching and the muscle of his jaw twitches in annoyance. He discards his phone, tossing it onto the vacant sofa and all of his attention is on you. As he stares down at you, blue eyes locked on your face.

And your head tilts.

"Like you'd do anything to hurt this..." You move your hair out of the way, "this elegant, swan-like neck."

Your thighs are around his waist, your back pressed against the leather of the sofa seats, still on the carpet as Dick presses soft, lingering kisses to the curve of your neck, warm hands grasping at the fat of your hips as he sucks marks into the sensitive skin of your neck.

"Shit..." Dick breathes out, dark lashes fluttering and his tongue drags along the curve of your jugular, and he presses the ball of his nose against your pulse. Feeling the faint thump against his nose, the scent of you filling his senses while your soft sounds fill his ears.

You're all that he's thinking about.

With your pretty doe eyes, your pretty, rosy lips and those flushed cheeks, and Dick can't even refuse when you whine against his lips, a small hand wrapping around his wrist and guiding his skilled fingers to the waistband of your sweatpants.

"Oh, you want my fingers, baby?" He coos quietly, carefully undoing your drawstring or at least, attempting to before he frowns and leans back on his haunches.

"What the actual fuck? Were you in the Navy?" He grumbles, using both hands this time to undo the stupidly tight knot of your sweatpants before stuffing his hand back into your pants.

And Dick traces your folds through your panties, "Ooh, so perfect and pretty."

"Fuck, you're so tight..." Dick's voice cracks, his hands gripping your hips and keeping you from moving, your back against the sofa and his hips roll against yours. A slow drag of his cock against your gummy walls, dragging against that soft, gooey spot that makes your lashes flutter.

Nails dig into his strong, muscular biceps, leaving scratches along his arms as muscular thighs rest on the outer part of your hips. Your thighs tossed over thick femurs, and your head tips back, lashes fluttering and Dick leans forward, pressing a kiss against the curve of your jaw.

"...you're so sexy..." Dick whispers. "With your perfect body, and your stupid, stupid brain. And your horrible jokes."

And his thumbs drag over the sensitive skin of your hips, a shaky breath falling from your kiss swollen lips and Dick presses another kiss to your lips, swallowing the sweet cacophony of your moans and mewls. And he grips your hips, pulling you closer and watching the way your eyes roll back in your head, his tip pressing a sloppy, wet kiss against the plug of your cervix.

Before he pulls back a bit, and then, slowly fucking back into you.

No condom.

No rubber.

No layer between the two of you, feeling his skin against yours is euphoric and your nails drag against the muscles of his back. That tight T-shirt looks so good on him, his tight white T-shirt straining against his muscles and his sweater, resting underneath your tailbone to prevent a friction burn from the carpet.

Dick raises your sweater, exposing your tits to his gaze. Soft, squishy mounds that fit perfectly in his hands, and he brushes his thumbs over your nipples, watching them pebble beneath his gaze and touch. And Dick groans, his dark brows furrowing into a frown and he leans forward, pressing a kiss to your forehead.

His hands rest on the underside of your breasts, pushing them higher and he dips his head, lips finding purchase on your nipples and his eyes flutter shut.

The stimulation is too much.

Deep strokes, your nipples being overstimulated and licked desperately, and the slow, intensity that comes with each of his strokes, his tip dragging against your gooey G-spot.

"..fuck... 'm gonna cum.."

Your lashes flutter and your lips form a soft 'o', pouty lips full and your chest heaving, deep breaths and your legs clamp around him tightly as he feels your walls flutter. Erratic pulses as your cunt oozes around him, a creamy ring forming at his base as he keeps fucking you through your orgasm.

Split open on his cock, your nails scratching at his scalp as he continues to suck and drag his tongue in the valley between your breasts before he pulls out of you, and he carefully guides you on your hands and knees.

His forearms rest on the sofa, his body covering yours as he presses soft kisses along the curve of your spine before you feel his wet, slick cock resting in the cleft of your ass.

Before he notches his flushed crown at that tight, furled entrance and your eyes widen, a short gasp slipping past his lips.

"I've had dreams about fucking you like this." Dick whispers, his hands resting on the plump globes of your ass.

"Your body's perfect for anal."

[shashapato]

Nevermore High School AU

For @cerealman ‘s 🤫🤫🤫🤫…secret santa present…😱🤫😬

(Merry Christmas!!!! Hoping this will make your day!!!)

HIGH SCHOOL AU

Lenore is a huge chemistry lover. She and Duke would be neutralising acids and bases at the back of the classroom then betting a ridiculous amount of money that the other won’t drink it. (Pluto has just given up stopping them and just began quietly handing Duke whatever he needs while half-listening to the lecture half-trying to make sure his friends don’t die.)

The misfits (COUGH COUGH Lenore COUGH) have probably set a fire by accident while teasing each other. 🥰 They all got in trouble.

Berenice wants to see blood under the microscope, but uhhhh, no one wants her cutting herself (or someone else).

Eulalie refuses to do dissections. FROGS ARE FRIENDS.

Prospero and Annabel make the BEST notes and Ada is begging for them at the end of class. (Annie gives it, of course.)

Will takes notes for Monty, and when desperate, Ada asks (DEMANDS) for them. (Will says no. 🥰)

No, but Prospero would wash his hands maybe ten times when in the lab, whether it’s touching chemicals or organs or anything. (Germaphobia, yes. 😭)

Montresor is OBSESSED with dissections. He finds it super fascinating and of course, loves feeling mushy organs and blood on his hands. (When Prospero is paired with him, he forces Monty to wash his hands.)

Dodgeball when it’s boys vs girls, Lenore is protecting all the shy unathletic girls from getting hit, becoming a sort of ‘saviour’. All of them fall heads over heels for her. 😔

Berenice and Lenore are the power duo.

Duke and Pluto WISHES they could be half as good bruh.

Eulalie looks like she’s unathletic, but she is FAST.

Annabel insists she shouldn’t play dodgeball because her nails will get in the way. (She tosses a ball at Monty’s head later for being misogynistic about that.)

Ada in PE is WILD. She and Will are the most competitive unathletic goblins ever. While Will uses his thin stature to sneak around opponents, Ada straight up tackles him, using the excuse “Oh, but we’re playing football, aren’t we?” “Not American football, god’s sake!!!”

I’m sorry, but Monty playing football (idc which football) AHHHHHH. He and Will joined the school team together of course. (William Wilson only joined to be in the changing room with Monty.)

Morella is Ada’s personal shield, because Ada has ZERO awareness of her surroundings when she’s focused. Morella has to run and block balls from hitting her.

Annabel in English class writing ramblings about how much she loves Lenore, but plays it off as only ‘fiction’. (I’ve done that once, IT WORKS!!!)

Lenore takes French so she could communicate with Duke in secret. Pluto attempted to, but backed out after a few failed exams.

Pluto now takes Japanese and Eulalie is his tutor. 😔

Monty is the kind to refuse to learn any language other than English, because it’s the ‘superior language’. (He takes German lol, I can see him speaking German...but like he knows only random words and shouts them to feel smart.)

Ada sucks at foreign languages, but thinks she is fluent. She’s the student that yells out answers with the strangest accent. 😭

Ada and Monty are the couple that’s ALWAYS kissing, but they broke up like ten times then got back together so everyone’s just confused.

Annabel and Lenore pass notes in class and when asked to read it out, Lenore EATS THE PAPER.

Poor Will tries to make friends and always fail.

Duke and Pluto are the gayest ‘straight guys’. (People assume they’re straight, but… 👀)

Eulalie is the weird kid that when you get to know becomes your best friend.

Merry and Mourn are kind of the weird teachers. 😭 They give you detention for no reason and can be strict.

Anygays, thank you! :DDD This has been fun!!!

[sarahsangelicdoll-recs]

oooo girl this was just, muah 💋 planned to read this last night but was absolutely exhausted after all the food i ate that day 🧘‍♀️🧘‍♀️

“JJ is on you before you have time to take a breath, his legs straddling your hips, his left hand wrapped tightly around your throat, squeezing so tight you see stars. He pulls his right hand from his face again, looking at the blood that covers it before a wicked smile stretches across his lips.”

“JJ licks at his lips, pulling his bottom one between his teeth. He takes his right hand, smearing the blood that covers it across your chest, running it across your breasts, covering you in his blood. He groans, scooting himself up to straddle your stomach. He grips your cheeks in his bloody hand, covering your face in his blood as well, forcing your lips to part slightly. “Fuckin’ beautiful.” He rasps, squeezing at your cheeks harder.”

“JJ gives a wicked grin, the dried blood covering his nose and upper lip making him look ten times more scary. But also, very fucking hot.”

Blood kink is goin crazy rn 🤭 something about JJ + blood is just incredibly hot, he just looks amazing with the shade of blood, i LOVE it 💞

“JJ reaches through the slit in his boxers, pulling his own cock free, stroking himself and lightly tapping the head of his dick against your lips. Your lips part slightly, allowing JJ to slowly push the tip inside your mouth, laying his fat tip on your tongue.”

My oral fixation going hard with this

“Rafe continues to tease at your entrance, pushing the tip inside before pulling back out. JJ places his hands behind your head, lifting it slightly, giving him enough space to begin fucking himself roughly down your throat.”

ughh i swear when the guy takes control while you’re giving oral it’s unbelievable hot 😩 i fall in LOVE

Ngl i was unsure if i was imagining the position right or not but from what i’m imaging that is a HOT ass position,

this was so hot though and i lovedd it, especially considering cnc isn’t my typical go tos 🤭

ᰔᩚ Day Five of Slutmas// Run, Rudolph, Run — R.C + J.M

You’ve always fantasized about being chased, hunted and used. Luckily for you, Rafe and JJ help bring the fantasy to life one snowy Christmas night.

CW: smut! 18+ only! CNC, dark!rafe, dark!jj, primal play, slight blood play, use of cuffs, choking, throat fucking, unprotected piv sex.

note: hiii! i just want to first off address, i marked this as consensual non consensual because reader did tell them she wanted this… though i don’t show the backstory of HOW they got here, she wants it even though she doesn’t voice it during this and will be “fighting” them, it’s all apart of her fantasy. secondly, thank you all for reading and supporting slutmas! i’ve had so much fun doing this, and hope to provide for y’all again next year! i hope everyone has had a merry christmas, and happy new year babies! mwah😚❤️

🎄❤️

“Sweetheart! We’re going to find you… Why don’t you just come out and play, huh?”

Rafe’s low voice echos through the silent hallway of his large house, sounding closer than he was moments ago. You press your back against the closet door, trying to steady your breathing, your heart thumping wildly in your chest. You wanted them to find you, just not too soon, it would ruin the fantasy, take away the fun of the chase.

The sound of footsteps thump loudly outside the door you’re behind, and you quickly slap your palm over your mouth.

“Where the fuck else could she be, Rafe? Your house is big, but not that fuckin’ big.” JJ says, annoyance lacing his tone.

Rafe slams his palm against the door, making you squeal behind your hand. “Fuck, I don’t kn- Wait… You hear that, Maybank?”

Shit. You gave yourself away.

“Yeah, sounds like it came from your room.”

Your heart rate slows, letting out a slow breath. They didn’t know you were in here. They didn’t…

Your thoughts die. A shrill scream escaping you when the door is ripped open, causing you to fall backward onto your ass, Rafe and JJ’s tall frames standing on either side of you.

A slow smile spreads across their lips, Rafe’s eyebrows rising as he tilts his head to the side. “Hi, sweetheart. Told ya we’d find you.”

Tears begin to fill your eyes, and you scramble backward, pushing yourself further into the closet. Fuck, this wasn’t smart.

You quickly jump to your feet, taking advantage of Rafe stepping further into the closet. You try and rush forward, your shoulder colliding with his firm chest, but it’s no use. He quickly grips at your upper arms, digging his nails into your skin, making you cry out.

Gripping a fistful of your hair, he yanks your head back, forcing your glossy, tear-filled eyes on his. “And where exactly do you think you’re goin’ sweetheart?”

Your lips part, letting out a silent scream as he uses the hold on your hair to pull your body flush into his. He dips his head down, running his nose up the side of your face and inhaling your scent.

“Your fear smells so fuckin’ sweet,” His tongue darts out, licking up the hot tears that spilled down your cheek. “Bet that pussy is soaked, ain’t it, sweetheart? Bet you’ll be so wet and tight when we fuck you… Use you like the fuckin’ slut you are…”

You fight against his hold, pushing your hands against his abdomen, feeling his abs flex underneath your fingers through his thin white t-shirt. He tightens the hold on your hair, his free hand making its way around your waist and holding you tightly against him. You feel his hard cock growing stiffer through the rough denim of his jeans, your clit pulsing with need as your nostrils flare, eyes narrowed into thin slits as you forcefully stare up at Rafe.

“The fight turns me on, baby.” He rasps.

And then he’s yanking you up off your feet, tossing you over his shoulder and exiting the closet. He passes JJ as he steps through the threshold and into the cold, dark hallway of Tannyhill, and you catch a glimpse of the blonde. His eyes match Rafe’s, bright blue, but right now, both of their pupils are blown, their eyes a sea of black as they think of all the things they can do to you.

Rafe walks you down the long hallway— JJ following closely behind, silent as he watches you kick, scream and fight— until he reaches the master bedroom. He kicks open the door, reaching the California King in two steps. He tosses you down onto the mattress, your tits bouncing from the impact of your back hitting the plush mattress.

JJ licks his lips, walking to stand on the other side of the mattress, staring down at you with a hungry look in his eye. He tilts his head to the side, leaning forward and pressing his palms into the mattress, his face mere inches from yours.

“Goddamn, princess. You put up one hell of a fight… Too bad for you, I love that shit. It turns me on.”

He inches closer, his lips ghosting across yours. He presses his lips to yours, but it’s short lived before you’re head butting into his nose. He pulls back, hissing in a breath and letting out unintelligible curses, his right hand cupping his nose.

“Fuck! Why the fuck did you do that?” He hisses, pulling his hand back and seeing it covered in his blood.

“Fuck. You.” You choke out, squeezing your eyes shut and falling back onto the mattress.

JJ is on you before you have time to take a breath, his legs straddling your hips, his left hand wrapped tightly around your throat, squeezing so tight you see stars. He pulls his right hand from his face again, looking at the blood that covers it before a wicked smile stretches across his lips.

“Rafe, help me out and pull this little bitches shirt off, yeah?”

Rafe chuckles, stepping around the mattress. He pulls out a pocket knife, flipping it open and bringing it to the collar of your shirt, cutting it straight down the middle. Your bare breasts come into view, nipples hardening as the cool air hits them.

JJ licks at his lips, pulling his bottom one between his teeth. He takes his right hand, smearing the blood that covers it across your chest, running it across your breasts, covering you in his blood. He groans, scooting himself up to straddle your stomach. He grips your cheeks in his bloody hand, covering your face in his blood as well, forcing your lips to part slightly. “Fuckin’ beautiful.” He rasps, squeezing at your cheeks harder.

JJ pushes off your face, climbing off of your body and roughly tugging your flared leggings down your thighs. He and Rafe share a look when they catch a glimpse of your baby pink lace thong, a small wet spot already forming in the middle.

Rafe begins fumbling with his belt, pulling it through the loops of his khakis and tossing it to the floor, the loud clank of metal hitting the floor has you wincing. JJ works his clothes off as well, both men stripping down to nothing but their boxers. You push up on the mattress, rolling to the side, hoping you can run again, but Rafe quickly grabs at your ankles, pulling you back up the mattress.

He tsks, pursing his lips as he shakes his head like he’s disappointed in you. “Stop trying to fuckin’ run, sweetheart. I promise… You’re gonna love what we give you.”

He snaps his head up, pinning JJ with a stare before he snaps his fingers. “Top drawer of my nightstand, there’s a pair of cuffs. Grab ‘em and cuff her wrists to the headboard, yeah?”

JJ gives a wicked grin, the dried blood covering his nose and upper lip making him look ten times more scary. But also, very fucking hot. He slowly turns, making his way to the nightstand and ripping open the top drawer. The unmistakable sound of metal clanking fills your ears as JJ pulls out the silver cuffs.

He holds them up, his eyebrows raised as he makes his way toward you again. You begin to kick and squirm again, Rafe’s hold on your ankles tightening. Your body thrashes and fights against the mattress, messing up the perfectly made bed. JJ aggressively wraps his hand around your throat again, his fingers digging into your sensitive skin as he squeezes tight.

“Stay fucking still.” He demands, and you swallow thickly.

JJ releases your throat, climbing onto your body once more, straddling your chest as he grips your right hand in his, bringing it up to the metal bars of the headboard, clicking the first cuff in place. He pulls the other cuff through the bars, the metal chain that separates both sides harshly clanging against the bars of the headboard. He finally grabs your left wrist, bringing it up and cuffing you in place.

Pulling back from the bars, he sits back, enjoying the way you pull against the cuffs. Loud screams and curses slip past your lips, falling on deaf ears.

Rafe climbs into the bed, joining you and JJ. You glance over JJ’s shoulder, watching as Rafe tightly grips his thick cock in his hand, stroking himself slowly, his eyes never leaving yours.

“‘M gonna have so much fun fucking that tight, sweet cunt of yours, sweetheart.”

Your hips buck, arousal pooling in your panties as you imagine Rafe’s fat cock stretching you, brutally pounding into you. Rafe releases his cock, bringing his hand down to your weeping slit, slowly running two fingers through your folds. He hums softly, reveling in the feel of your arousal coating his fingers.

He brings the two fingers to his lips, pushing them into his mouth and sucking your sweet taste off of them, mumbling out a low praise, “Mmm, pussy tastes so sweet.”

He pulls his fingers from his mouth, reaching down to fist his cock again. Your head falls back into the pillows, a small whimper escaping you as Rafe slowly runs the swollen tip of his dick through your folds.

JJ reaches through the slit in his boxers, pulling his own cock free, stroking himself and lightly tapping the head of his dick against your lips. Your lips part slightly, allowing JJ to slowly push the tip inside your mouth, laying his fat tip on your tongue.

JJ smiles, “Open up, pretty girl.”

You do as he says, opening your mouth wide enough to allow him to slip his heavy cock down your throat. He groans when you close your lips around him, your tongue flattening against the vein on the underside of his shaft.

Rafe continues to tease at your entrance, pushing the tip inside before pulling back out. JJ places his hands behind your head, lifting it slightly, giving him enough space to begin fucking himself roughly down your throat. You whimper and gag around JJ, a muffled and choked squeal pulled from your lips when Rafe finally rams himself fully inside, stretching you to the hilt.

Both men begin forcefully thrusting into you, shockwaves of pleasure coursing through your body as they use you.

“Fuck, you’re so wet, sweetheart,” Rafe rasps, slowly pulling his cock out, slamming his hips forward again, pulling a muffled whine from you. “Love the way this pussy feels, squeezin’ my dick so tight.”

JJ’s hips slow, his cock buried deep down your throat. Drool spills past the corners of your lips, and JJ groans when you gag around him, tears spilling from your eyes. “Look so fuckin’ pretty when you’re full of cock, princess. Like a fuckin’ masterpiece.”

You whimper, your legs shaking and mind growing foggy from how full you are. Rafe and JJ both begin thrusting harshly into you again, using your body, nearing their releases. Your pussy clenches around Rafe’s cock, your clit pulsing as your orgasm threatens to burst.

“Mm, feel you squeezin’ ‘round me, sweetheart. Be a good girl and cum on my cock, yeah?”

Rafe’s hands grip at your hips, lifting your lower half up off the bed as he quickly pounds inside you, his dick pulsing and swelling. JJ picks up his pace as well, harshly fucking your throat. You yank at your cuffed wrists, the harsh metal digging into your sensitive skin. Both Rafe and JJ laugh at your attempts to get free.

“Stop fighting it, princess. ‘M so close, almost do— shiiit..” JJ rasps.

You feel JJ’s cock twitch in your mouth, a low grunt spilling past his lips as the hot ropes of his cum fill your mouth. He holds your head still, nose firmly pressed against his pelvis as he forces every last drop of cum down your throat. “That’s it.. Swallow my cum, princess.”

Rafe isn’t far behind, his thrusts growing sloppy before he shoves himself deep inside you, a pleasured moan escaping him as he fills your pussy with his cum.

JJ pulls himself from your mouth, rolling off your chest and onto the bed beside you, his chest heaving as he tries to calm his breathing. Rafe stays buried inside you, his body falling on top of yours, his lips placing soft kisses up the length of your neck.

Your breathing is rough and choppy, your wrists aching from the cuffs. You let out a soft whimper, your head rolling to the side and finding JJ’s eyes. “J… Cuffs..”

He chuckles, rolling onto his side and placing a kiss to your lips before grabbing the key off the top of the nightstand. He quickly undoes your wrists, allowing them to fall down by your sides. You pull them up to your chest, rubbing at the raw and sore skin before letting them fall to your sides again.

Rafe slowly pulls himself from inside you, rolling to lay on the opposite side of you. He and JJ both wrap their arms around you, both nuzzling their faces into your neck. You let out a content sigh, and whispering “Thank you, both. Merry Christmas.” before sleep claims the three of you.

🎄❤️

tagging some moots: @starkeysbabygirl @rafesthroatbaby @rafeyscurtainbangs @oceandriveab @starkeysprincess @httpsdrewstarkey @cherrygirlfriend @sarahsangelicdoll @nemesyaaa @rafesbabygirlx @bloodibambiidoll @cameronwillow

[barbswo]

THIAM prompt: “PDA”

They weren’t really big on PDA—public displays of affection, that was. Stiles knew that there was nothing wrong with that, after all, all couples were different, but.

They were Liam and Theo.

No, sorry, not like that.

They were LiamandTheo.

As in, together.

When Stiles first heard about it, he was still in Washington, and it happened during a group call they tried to put together at least twice a month, which was a real bitch to accomplish, counting different time zones and personal schedules. Stiles was peacefully organizing some documents, listening to Malia complain about weird french customs, when Mason let out a mocking whistle, and Stiles lifted his head.

Of course, he knew that Theo was hanging around Beacon Hills. He knew that Liam’s parents, being real-life saints, let Theo to stay with them, knew that the chimera got close to the Puppy pack (Liam still hated that nickname, but Stiles thought that it was hilarious and on point), but knowing and seeing were two very different things.

Theo never joined their calls, acted like he didn’t even exist, always silent, hovering on the periphery of everybody’s minds. Theo was the blurry picture one deleted before trying to focus their camera, a word in a dictionary with no definition attached. And now Theo was just there, shirtless, a towel wrapped around his hips, walking around Liam’s room like it was the most normal thing to do.

“There is a naked chimera of death behind you,” blurted out Stiles, and it was fascinating how fast Liam’s head whipped around. Laughter pulled the lines of his mouth when he turned back to the camera, shaking his head.

“You almost got me there.”

Stiles blinked. Frowned. That wasn’t the reaction he was expecting.

“Stiles, I swear, you don’t want to be around Liam when there is a naked Theo nearby,” grinned Mason from his square on Stiles’ laptop, Corey’s head on his shoulder. Even cut by the camera frame, they looked so disgustingly sweet Stiles wanted to lick their faces.

Liam flipped Mason off. Scott nervously chuckled on his end, looking away for a second, and Stiles felt like he had to fight for his life while putting two and two together. It was his thing—to know stuff. To see it before everyone else did.

And maybe it would’ve been more obvious had he been around more after Theo’s… resurrection?.. but instead, realization hit him in the middle of the pack call, and Stiles almost fell off his chair.

“For all that’s sweet and pure, Liam, are you two an item? And why is everybody acting like you knew, did I miss the announcement of Theo seducing our baby wolf, and why in hell—”

“You didn’t tell him?” Asked Corey, lifting his head. “Liam, you said you would weeks ago!”

“Weeks?” Squeaked Stiles.

Liam sighed like someone had deposited the weight of the world on his shoulders. “First,” he lifted his index finger, “not your baby wolf. I’m eighteen, thank you very much. Second,” there went the next finger, “us dating is our business, and there was no announcement, Stiles, for god’s sake…”

“You called me in the middle of the night and wouldn't calm down for two hours,” dryly reminded Mason, and somewhere behind Liam’s back, Theo scoffed.

“Two hours, really? That’s kind of pathetic.”

And hey, maybe it was a little bit pathetic, but Stiles still remembered how it felt when he realized that the girl he’d been crushing on for ten years liked him back, and he wasn’t the one to judge, not really. Even if the subject of Liam’s affections was a murderer raised in sewers. Tastes differ.

But, because the subject of Liam’s affections was a murderer raised in sewers, Stiles couldn’t help but take his sudden revelation with a grain of salt. After all, he’d watched the kid grow, and in some ways, felt protective not only of Liam overall, but of Liam’s heart, too.

And Theo was known for stealing those.

“Pathetic, huh?” Liam turned his head, presenting everyone with the view of his sharp jawline, “Says the guy who whimpered when I—”

A book that looked like it could’ve taken Liam’s head off if thrown at a slightly different angle hit him in the nose, and Liam yelled, waving his hands around to steady himself. That, unfortunately, resulted in him knocking off his own laptop, and the picture of his room circled around, blurred and went totally dark.

“Maybe they will kill each other and we won’t have to deal with their weird flirting anymore,” concluded Malia, and Stiles gaped at her.

“Flirting? You call that…” he struggled to get the rest of the sentence out by choking on his own tongue, “are you absolutely sure they are together-together, because that didn’t look—”

“Oh, we are sure,” Corey wrinkled his nose, “more sure than we’d like to be.”

“I second this,” chuckled Mason, and just like that, no matter how hard Stiles tried to circle back to the potential danger of Theo dating Liam, conversation shifted to the future summer break, plans, hang-outs and trips.

And honestly? Ever since that call Stiles couldn’t wait to be back home.

Not because of the summer break. Summer, of course, was good as a concept, and it highlighted Stiles’ freckles and made his skin strawberry pink while Scott paraded around with the most picture-perfect tan ever, and it smelled like ice-cream and all-night hangouts and freshly cut grass, and for some reason made Stiles’ dad smile more, as if all the warmth and sun brought him back to the good times with less monsters and cares.

However, Stiles had a talent for getting obsessed with things he didn’t understand. No, even better—he had a talent for investigating the things he didn’t understand until he could confidently say that if needed, he could write a whole book on the subject. It just happened so that currently, LiamandTheo made absolutely no sense.

Stiles recognized that his tendencies of going deep into the trenches of “observe, think, pin down, look, understand” weren’t… well, common. Normal kids didn’t spend their nights reading every article on hair follicles just because they were fascinated by how age turned black and red and gold into silver and wanted to know how and why it happened. In Stiles’ line of life and work, meticulousness never hurt anyone.

And it wasn’t that he thought Theo would go off the rails and slit all their throats one night. It was nothing like that. Stiles was stubborn, but he wasn’t an idiot, and neither was Theo. He had countless opportunities to turn his back on the pack, yet he stayed—as Stiles was well aware, to drive Liam around and help him to do his homework.

Homework didn’t have an evil ring to it. Stiles could’ve subscribed to the idea of Theo being a chauffeur and a tutor, but Liam’s boyfriend? Theo Raeken? The same nine-year-old kid who once looked Stiles dead in the eye and said that he believed love was nothing but a concept invented by desperate people? The teenager who grew up in the sewers of dozens of cities and was raised by three faceless psycos? Same Theo who killed his own packmates because he was hungry for power before recognition?

Granted, Theo had changed, and Stiles even admitted it once, but still. Theo didn’t do anything unless there was something he could gain from it. His ever-calculating, manipulative mind would never allow him to be just selfless. It had been injected into Theo’s veins to be a perfect weapon and to survive no matter what, so excuse Stiles for not buying the cute-caring-honest-boyfriend act.

Liam certainly had a thing for mean people, but Liam was a freaking golden retriever puppy. He would let Darth Vader pet him. Stiles was not trusting his judgment, because while Liam wasn’t exactly dumb, love did weird things to human brains. Stiles would know. He was friends with Scott McCall.

Thus, upon arriving at Beacon Hills, Stiles started doing what he did best. Investigating.

And that was how he ended up glaring in frustration at his current dilemma. Also known as the pack’s movie night.

You see, Stiles was an awkward person, and he sure as hell couldn’t keep it together around his crush, but even after he did a lot of thinking and grew up, there was still a part of him that wanted to reach out to Lydia and just touch. Make sure she was real. That he hadn’t imagined her by his side like he used to do before Scott got bitten and Stiles was fourteen and helplessly in love with the most popular girl in school.

And Stiles wasn’t even a werewolf, or chimera, or—anything freaky. But he knew how it was when a lupine creature found a mate (the term tasted like pure cringe in his mouth, but there was nothing Stiles could do about that): scenting became a primal instinct, a tradition to follow of sorts. He was fairly sure every member of the pack started smelling at least a little bit like Scott on the second day of their summer break, because Scott was the alpha and they belonged to him (there was that cringe again, but Stiles’ entire life had become cringe so... whatever), but it tended to be even more intense when romance was involved.

And Stiles was starting to question whether there was any romance between Liam and Theo, because really—they didn’t act like it.

At all.

“No, we are not doing Lord of the Rings marathon,” Mason rolled his eyes at Liam’s offended face, “each movie is like, three hours long, Li, nobody has that strength of will!”

“Those movies are classic,” argued Corey, and Mason’s gaze shifted to him.

“You will be the one to fall asleep on me in twenty minutes.”

Corey sent Liam an apologetic smile. “That’s true.”

Liam let out an irritated breath and pulled Theo’s sleeve to get his attention. “Help me convince these idiots that the best saga of all time should be savored whole—oh, and we can watch the director’s cut, too!”

Theo threw Liam the most unimpressed glance Stiled had seen in his entire life. “I don’t want to know what the director’s cut even is. You and your nerdy brain should’ve really stayed home.”

Liam scoffed. “It was you who wanted to stay home, Theo.”

“Hoped to get a break from you, really.”

Stiles immediately felt offended. He, of course, believed that the best saga of all time was Star Wars, but he wasn’t going to argue on the topic, because his mind was elsewhere.

Now, sarcasm might’ve been Stiles’ first line of defense, but there was a balance between being sarcastic and mean. He wasn’t sure Theo got the memo of the said balance.

Stiles wasn’t sure what he was expecting to change, having given the idea of LiamandTheo quite a lot of thought, but he certainly didn’t expect to encounter… that. Theo behaved like he was forced to be in Liam’s presence. Reserved, cold, irritated nine times out of ten, Theo was willingly waving red flags in front of Liam’s very nose, Liam turning a blind eye on every single one of them.

It was the first time Stiles got to hang out with not just Liam and Theo, but with LiamandTheo, and he didn’t like it. They ended up watching the first Narnia movie, (which was Lydia’s favorite, so Stiles knew it by heart,) and instead of keeping his eyes on the screen, he found himself studying the new happy couple. Or, “happy” “couple”. Quotation on both words for the irony.

And that was how Stiles discovered they weren’t big on PDA in the first place.

And listen, it wasn’t like he yearned to see the chimera of death sucking on the beta’s tongue. Stiles was many things, but a creep wasn’t one of them, and in his head, Liam was still a freaking baby. He didn’t even expect to watch them make out like the world was ending—but he was starting to think that they barely did at all.

There was no peck on the lips when Liam grabbed a cherry coke not only for himself, but for Theo, too. No touch of gratitude, not even a glance, just a dry “thanks” that must’ve escaped Theo’s lips by some gruesome mistake. They sat next to each other, but didn’t even touch—not their shoulders, not their knees, not even their knuckles. Nothing.

If Mason had kept his mouth shut during that call, Stiles would’ve never guessed they were something more than enemies turned allies. And it was messing with his head.

“Something is wrong,” blurted out Stiles when the pack started migrating to their respective houses, leaving him, Scott, Malia and Lydia in the McCall kitchen.

Scott, who was stacking pizza boxes atop one another in a way that made them look like the Tower of Pisa, turned his head, his eyebrows raised. “What?”

“Theo,” pressed Stiles, and Lydia sighed a small “here we go again” from where she was sitting at the kitchen island. Stiles passed by her, his hand involuntarily brushing over her shoulders, because it was the most normal thing to do and because Stiles was allowed, and nodded at the window. There, the Puppy Pack gathered around Theo’s truck, talking about… something.

Scott followed Stiles’ gaze and shook his head.

“I know you don’t trust him—”

“It’s hard to trust someone who did what he did,” snapped Stiles, “but it’s not his loyalty to the pack I’m worried about. It’s…” he paused, staring at the window. Mason and Corey, apparently, were giving Nolan a ride, their trio getting in Mason’s car and leaving Liam and Theo to their devices.

Technically alone, the couple didn’t try and move closer—if anything, they drifted further apart and, if gestures and body language were anything to go by, arguing. Liam’s side was pressed into the truck’s hood, and Theo was leaning onto the driver’s door, leniently responding to Liam’s remarks.

“I don’t think he is good to him,” he said at last, his gaze drifting back to Scott. “Liam.”

“Want me to punch him?” Malia lifted her head, and Scott shook his head.

“Nobody is punching Theo,” he looked at Stiles, “it’s their relationship. I don’t think we have a say in who Liam dates, Stiles.”

Stiles narrowed his eyes. “But you agree that if we had, Theo wouldn’t have made the list?”

“He changed,” spoke Lydia, snatching the last piece of brownie from the plate before Malia could swallow it whole, “I know you don’t like him, and nobody is forcing you to, but Theo is different now. More… real.”

“We thought he was real senior year, and look where it almost brought us,” mumbled Stiles, reaching out and grabbing the Tower of Pizza Pisa (ha-ha) before it could fall down, “look, I know he isn’t a psycho maniac anymore—but you can’t convince me that Theo has an inch in all 5’8 of him that actually cares for Liam. As in, wants to hold his hand and stare lovingly into his eyes and kiss him until the moon dies. You know, typical teenage romance shenanigans?”

Lydia chewed her brownie, looking thoughtful. “But do we think that Theo—and Liam too, actually—are typical teenagers?”

“Exactly,” sighed Scott, closing the dishwasher soap dispenser and pushing the door shut, “I can sense Liam in my head, remember? And he is happier than he ever was before, I promise. I don’t... really feel Theo, because he is an idiot and keeps pushing me away, but what I do feel doesn’t alert me—quite the opposite, actually.”

Stiles bit his lip, looking between his friends. He did trust Scott’s senses, but it was also true that Scott had been wrong before. Crucially wrong. And it was water under the bridge now, because they all found a way to move on, push past their offenses and differences and mistakes, but it didn’t change the fact that Scott trusted people easily and was as naive as a princess in a tower.

And Liam, obviously, turned out exactly the same.

Maybe Theo didn’t want to really hurt him. Maybe he had what he always wanted to—a pack, but he realized that he needed some sort of validation, admiration, actually, and twisted and turned Liam’s barriers until the boy fell in love with him. Liam always liked people who were mean to him. And had a tendency to fall for his anchors. Theo surely knew that and used it for his own advantage, like he always did.

Of course, there was no way Stiles could say his thoughts out loud without coming out as paranoid, and to be honest, he didn’t want to burden anyone with his raw theories. His dad always said that proof was steel that nothing could break, so Stiles would have to look for that before making further advances on the topic.

After all, it was summer break. They all deserved a little rest.

The problem was, Stiles was restless.

[frogwithgun]

As I'm watching the new season of the dragon prince I go to that one scene where the little girl tells Rayla that Callum wants ten kids lol

My favorite part was just Runaans face in the background

LOOK AT HIM

They soooo had a talk later together

Runaan: I knew this was a bad idea

Ethari: Well honey I think-

Runaan: But no! She wants to be with that crazy human kid!

Ethari: Honey I really do-

Runaan: Ten babies! Who wants ten babies?!

Rayla (she's been there the whole time listening to Runaan slowly go crazy): Dad I think that-

Runaan: So that means he only wants to use her!

Rayla: Dad he doesn't want ten babies!

Runaan: *slowly turns to Rayla* BECAUSE YOU WANT TEN BABIES!

Ethari: You know for what it's worth I think he's a good kid

Runaan: NO!

[misahyochaeng]

Can we get a momo car smut? it would suit her scene in the Strategy mv 😮‍💨

Let Me Into Your Heart. 🎄

tw - fluff, angst, smut, car sex, idol x idol!reader, tenth member reader, friends to (?), cunnilingus, bi-curious!reader, implied cheating/breakup, fingering, first time with a girl, praise kink.

note: a lil christmas gift for yall!!! enjoy

—

“Should we get more popcorn?” Chaeyoung asked as she shook around the unpopped kernels in the ceramic bowl they had all been using. All ten eyes fixated on the TV screen that was displaying the movie “Home Alone.” It had become a group tradition to watch it every christmas-eve.

“Chaeyoung, this is our fifth bag, we’re gonna run out of popcorn before this movie is even finished.” Jihyo scolded lightly as she sat on Sana’s lap, the Japanese girl toying and twirling with some locs of Jihyo’s hair. “Well it’s not my fault some people here aren’t saving some popcorn for the rest of us!” Chaeyoung argued as she eyed you and Momo, a pout of her face as she sulked with furrowed brows. Momo stuck her tongue out and mocked the girl while you stuck your middle finger out and pouted, some banter immersing you all as the movie continued on.

Your phone buzzed.

Jisung: “Y/N, can we talk?.”

The playful banter continued for a few moments before your phone buzzed again, louder this time, cutting through the sound of the movie. You glanced down at the screen, your heart sinking slightly at the message:

Jisung: “Please, it’s serious.”

For the past few days, he'd been distant—barely answering texts, no late-night calls after hard weeks of recording, no cute emojis or "I miss you" messages. Nothing. The sudden flood of unease gnawed at your popcorn filled stomach. You weren’t sure if it was the holiday season or the amount of unaligned schedules, but the weight of his absence had started to feel heavier than usual.

Momo, sitting beside you, noticed the subtle shift in your mood. She glanced at your phone and then back at you, her expression softening. "Are you okay?" she asked quietly, her voice laced with concern, her hand caressing yours with her thumb.

You froze for a moment, suddenly aware of how tense your shoulders had become. You didn’t want to dive into it now—not with everyone here, not on Christmas Eve. You forced a smile, but it felt brittle, like it might break at any moment. "Yeah... I'm fine. I’m just gonna step outside for a bit. I'll be right back."

Momo looked at you for a second longer, her brow furrowed, but she didn’t press. She knew better than to push too hard when you weren’t ready to talk. "Alright. Let me know if you need anything," she said softly, her eyes staying on you for a moment before you stood up and headed for the door.

You made your way down the hallway, the muffled sound of laughter from the living room fading behind you. The cold air hit your face as you stepped outside, the sudden silence almost suffocating. You unlocked your phone again, reading Jisung’s message over and over:

Jisung: “Call me. I need to tell you now.”

A chill ran through you, though not from the shivering cold. Serious? What did that even mean? You stared at the screen, fingers frozen in place. Part of you didn’t want to know the answer, but you couldn’t ignore it. You needed to hear it from him, even though you already had a sinking feeling in your gut.

Taking a shaky breath, you tapped his name, a little white heart next to it. The phone rang twice, then he picked up. His voice was different—distant, quieter than usual.

"Hey," you said, trying to keep your voice steady, but it cracked slightly. "Hey," Jisung replied, but there was something in his tone—hesitation? Nervousness? You couldn’t tell.

You swallowed, trying to shake off the dread creeping into your chest. "What’s going on? Is everything alright?" There was a long pause before he spoke again, his voice even more strained now. "I... I think we need to talk."

The words hung in the air, and your heart skipped a beat. We need to talk—you knew what that meant. You felt the air go still, the weight of the moment pressing down on you. “About what?” you asked, barely above a whisper.

He let out a long breath, like he was trying to find the right words. “I don’t think we’re... I don’t think we’re right for each other anymore,” he said, his voice barely audible now. “I think it’s time we... end things.”

You couldn’t breathe for a second. The words stung in a way you hadn’t expected. You felt your chest tighten, the cold air no longer offering any relief. “Jisung, no...” you managed to whisper, the lump in your throat making it hard to speak. You had expected this to come, but hearing it... it still hurt.

There was silence on the other end for a long moment, and then he sighed. "I’m sorry. I just... I think it’s better this way." The words felt like a slap in the face, and the world seemed to tilt beneath your feet. It was Christmas Eve. You had been hoping, maybe even pretending, that things could be fixed, that it was just a rough patch. But this... this was the final word.

You tried to steady your breath, but it felt impossible. Please, you thought. Just don’t let it end like this.

"Jisung, please... don’t do this," you whispered, your voice cracking despite your best effort to keep it steady. "We can fix this. I know we can. Just... talk to me. Please." There was a long silence on the other end, and you could almost feel the distance growing between you, stretching wider and wider. His voice finally broke through, distant and emotionless. "I’ve already talked to my company," he said, each word heavier than the last. "They’re going to issue a statement tomorrow. It’s already been decided."

A statement. Your chest tightened. Your throat felt like it was closing. "A statement?" you echoed, almost laughing at how absurd it sounded, but the bitter edge to your voice made it clear you weren’t finding any humor in it. "You’re not just ending things, Jisung. You’re... you’re making it official with a statement?"

“I can’t keep doing this,” he said, and there was a finality to it. Something in his tone said this wasn’t a conversation anymore—it was a conclusion. A chapter closing. “This... it’s for the best.” The words stabbed at you like a thousand needles. For the best? How could this be for the best?

“No,” you whispered, your heart pounding. “No, Jisung. I don’t want this. I can’t just... let you go. Not like this. You can’t make a decision like that without even trying—please.” You squeezed your eyes shut, desperate to pull yourself together, but you were barely holding on. “We can talk about it. We can fix this. Please.”

“I’ve thought about it, and I know this is what’s best for both of us,” he replied, but his words felt like they were slipping away from you, becoming less real with every breath. There was no room for anything else, no space for the love you’d shared. Just cold, emotionless distance. A lump formed in your throat as you pressed your palm to your forehead, trying to stop the tears from coming. "But I love you," you said, the words slipping out before you could stop them. "I don’t want to let you go. Please don’t do this. I can’t—"

He sighed. It was long and exhausted, like he was done explaining, done trying to make you understand. “I’m sorry,” he said, his voice soft but final, like he was already saying goodbye. “I think it’s better this way. I really do.”

"No," you repeated, your voice barely above a whisper, your entire body trembling. *Please, don’t hang up. Please, don’t leave me with just this.* "Please... please just listen to me, Jisung. We can work through it. We can—"

But before you could finish, there was a sharp click.

The call ended.

You stared at your phone, your hand shaking, the empty screen glaring back at you as if mocking your attempts to hold it together. The cold air outside suddenly felt suffocating, and you clutched the phone in your hand, but it did nothing to ease the tightness in your chest.

He was gone. Just like that.

A familiar voice cut through the cold silence.

“Y/N, the girls told me to bring you a jacket, Jihyo didn’t want you catching a co—”

Momo stopped mid-sentence when she saw you, her words faltering as she took in the sight of you standing there. Your face was pale, eyes swollen and red, and your nose was bright from the cold, but it was clear—it wasn’t the cold that had made you look this way.

Her breath caught in her chest. She could see it in your eyes—something had shattered, and it wasn’t just the chill of the night.

You didn’t speak, just stood there, looking like you were trying to hold yourself together, but barely. Momo’s heart twisted as she saw how small you seemed, how lost you were.

For a moment, neither of you moved. Then, instinctively, Momo stepped forward, her voice soft but full of concern. “Y/N…”

You didn’t respond. You just looked at her, your lips trembling, and that was all it took for Momo to close the distance between you. She didn't ask any more questions, not yet—she just shrugged the jacket off her shoulders and wrapped it around you, the thick wool lining offering warmth against your skin. The smell of her perfume, the faintest trace of something sweet and familiar, clung to the jacket, mixing with the cold air around you.

She pulled you closer, wrapping her arms around you, her hands warm against your trembling body. For a few seconds, she just held you, letting the silence settle between you. She could feel the tension in your body—the way you were trying to hold it all in, like you were waiting for something to change.

Momo didn’t know what to say. The words felt like they were stuck in her throat, but one thing she did know: you needed her, and that was enough for now.

Her thumb brushed softly across your cheek, wiping away a tear you didn’t even realize had fallen. She took a deep breath, her voice breaking the silence, but barely above a whisper. “What happened?” Her words were careful, like she didn’t want to push you too hard. "Y/N, please talk to me."

You closed your eyes, the pain in your chest threatening to crush you with each breath you took. You shook your head as if to shake off the reality of it. “He… he ended it. Just like that.”

Her arms tightened around you, but she didn’t say anything for a moment. She just let you keep talking, keep processing.

“He… said it was for the best. That it’s over. That we’re over.” You choked on the last words, your throat so tight you could barely breathe. “He’s already talking to his company, Momo. They’re going to release a statement tomorrow…” You trailed off, your voice barely audible, and your hands gripped the edges of the jacket she’d wrapped around you as if it were the only thing anchoring you to reality.

Momo’s chest ached as she heard your words, her heart breaking for you. She knew you and Jisung had been going through something, but this? This felt so final. Her fingers brushed against your hair gently, tucking a strand behind your ear.

“I’m so sorry,” she whispered, her voice thick with emotion. “I’m so sorry, Y/N.”

You just shook your head, unable to say anything more. The weight of everything was too much, and for the first time in a long while, you let yourself lean into her warmth. Momo held you like she’d never let you go, like she could protect you from all of this pain, even though she knew she couldn’t. But she would be here. She would always be here.

Momo gently pulled away, but kept her hands on your arms, her voice soft but insistent. “Okay, listen to me. We’re gonna get through this,” she said, her tone more confident now, though there was still a quiver of concern underneath. “I’m gonna go talk to the girls. We’ll come up with something. I’ll take you out for a little drive, get some air. You deserve that right now, okay?”

You didn’t have the energy to argue. You just nodded, still trying to breathe through the ache in your chest. Momo squeezed your shoulders before rushing back inside to join the others.

Momo burst back into the living room, still feeling the weight of the moment. The girls glanced up at her, noticing her flushed cheeks and the wild, panicked look in her eyes. Before anyone could say anything, Momo blurted out, “It’s over. She... he ended it. It’s over.”

The words hit the room like a bomb, and the girls froze. For a second, no one moved. Then, a beat later, Nayeon looked up from her phone, her eyes wide. “Wait, wait—what?” She blinked rapidly, trying to process. “Momo, have you seen a ghost? What’s happening?” Momo groaned, running a hand through her hair in frustration. “I’m serious, Nayeon. It’s over. Y/N’s heartbroken, and I... I don’t know what to do. She’s falling apart, and I just—” She shook her head, cutting herself off. “I need to fix this.”

Jihyo looked up from her seat with a knowing smile, trying to calm Momo down. “We’re not saying you have to fix everything, Momo. But you can’t do it alone.”

“Right,” Sana added, her voice light with a teasing tone. “You need help. You’ve been practically obsessed with Y/N for months. It's okay, we see it.” Momo’s face turned beet red, her hands flailing in the air as she tried to brush off their comments. “I... I’m just trying to help her. This is about her, not me!” She was still panicking, but it was clear from her flushed face and darting eyes that they were right. She liked you. She always had.

Chaeyoung gave her a knowing look, a sly smile tugging at her lips. “Momo… you do know this is just a breakup, right?”

Momo froze. “What do you mean? Of course it’s just a breakup—what else could it be?!” she said, waving her arms dramatically. Sana, eyes twinkling, smirked. “Momo, we’ve been watching you two for months now. The way you look at her? You think we didn’t notice? Please.”

“Yeah, you’ve practically been ready to confess,” Jihyo added, crossing her arms. “Except you keep getting interrupted by work or... Y/N’s boyfriends or whatever.” Momo’s face went bright red. “What? No! I—I’m just—what?!" Her hands flailed in the air even harder now, like she was trying to swat the conversation away. “I don’t know what you’re talking about! I’m just trying to make her feel better, okay? She’s my best friend. That’s all.”

Chaeyoung leaned back into the couch, crossing her arms with an exaggerated sigh. “Sure. Best friend. And you want to make her feel better because...?”

Sana and Jihyo both shot Momo a knowing look, and Momo groaned, hiding her face in her hands. “Okay, fine! Fine, I like her. But that doesn’t matter right now! She’s hurting, and I need to figure out how to help her.”

“Look,” Jihyo said, leaning forward with a smirk. “It’s okay. We’ve all been in your shoes at some point.” She paused dramatically, glancing at the others. “Well, not everyone.” She shot a look at Sana, who rolled her eyes.

But now wasn’t the time for that. “I’m taking her out for a drive. She needs to clear her head,” Momo said quickly, trying to regain control of the situation. “I’m gonna be there for her. I just... I need to get her to feel better, okay?”

Chaeyoung leaned back on the couch, folding her arms and raising an eyebrow. “Oh, so now we’re trying to get her to feel better. What happened to the Momo who was all, ‘We’re just friends’? Huh? You’ve got it bad, don’t you?”

Momo’s face went even redder, but before she could respond, Jihyo stepped in, holding up a bar of chocolate with a smirk. “Here, Momo,” she said, tossing it to her. “You’re gonna need this. Chocolate fixes everything.”

Momo caught the chocolate, but she barely acknowledged it, her mind still racing; then she blinked, momentarily distracted by the random appearance of chocolate in Jihyo’s pocket. “...Wait, did you just have that in your pocket this whole time?”

Jihyo smirked, unwrapping another bar she had stored. “Never leave home without it.”

“Oh you’re weird.. anyways, right. I’ve got this. I’ll take her for a drive, talk things through... Just... make her feel better. Mission: Help Y/N Feel Better is a go.” She gave a dramatic sigh, half-exasperated, half-hoping she wasn’t totally messing this up.

The girls all nodded in unison, giving her supportive smiles.

Momo quickly turned toward the door, but not before shooting one last glance at the girls, her mind still racing. "Thanks, guys."

The scene shifted, and suddenly, Momo was standing with you at the front door. The moment of action felt strangely quiet between you two, almost like you were both holding your breath.

“So...” Momo started awkwardly, holding the strings of her hoodie inbetween her fingers like it might help steady her. “I thought... maybe we could just go for a little drive? Clear our heads. Get away from all of this for a bit.”

You stood there for a second, still processing everything, feeling the cold air against your cheeks. You glanced at her, your eyes tired, but you nodded.

“Yeah,” you whispered, forcing a weak smile. “That sounds... good.”

Momo hesitated, her hands fidgeting with her hoodie before she stuffed her hands in its pockets. Her heart skipped. It was like it was happening too fast, but also, it was the only thing that made sense. You needed comfort, and she needed to be there for you. That’s all she could do right now.

“Alright,” Momo said, almost to herself, trying to regain her composure. “Let’s go.” And with that, the door clicked closed behind you both, the world outside waiting—neither of you knowing exactly how the night would unfold, but knowing you wouldn’t be facing it alone.

Momo opened the car door for you, her hands steady but her mind racing. “Here,” she said softly, offering a warm smile as you slid into the seat. She closed the door gently behind you before walking around to the driver’s side, sliding in and starting the engine. She glanced at you with a playful smile. “You want the heater on?”

You groggily nodded, your body shivering slightly from the cold air outside. The warmth of the car hit you almost immediately, flushing through you like a wave, and you let out a small sigh of relief.

Momo reached into the backseat, pulling out a thick, cozy-looking blanket. She held it up to you, her brow furrowed in mock seriousness. “Do you always just keep this here?”

You raised an eyebrow at her teasing. “Do you want it or not?” Momo shot back, her lips puckered in that endearing way she did when she was being playful.

You giggled softly, nodding. “Fine, I’ll take it.”

With a smile, she wrapped the blanket around you, tucking it in carefully, her hands brushing against your arms as she did. You let out a pleased sigh, sinking deeper into the warmth.

Momo buckled up, starting the car and pulling out of the driveway, her focus now on the road ahead. The quiet hum of the engine filled the car, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. You watched the side windows begin to fog up, your breath a little heavier, as you gazed out at the Christmas decorations twinkling in the distance. Couples walked hand-in-hand, laughing under the soft glow of holiday lights, and for a moment, you forgot how cold it had been outside, lost in the warmth of the car.

But then, just as quickly as it came, the thought of him slipped into your mind. It had been your second Christmas together. Your second Christmas you wouldn’t get to share with him again. The ache in your chest returned, the holiday cheer around you somehow making it worse.

Momo broke the silence before it could consume you. “Are you thinking about him again?” she asked bluntly, glancing over at you.

You froze for a second, caught off guard, then quickly lied. “No,” you said, forcing a small smile as you looked away from her.

Momo didn’t miss the way you stiffened, the shift in your expression. She knew. Her voice softened, but there was something else there, something sharp. “He never really deserved you.”

The way she said it made something in your chest tighten. There was an odd tone in her voice—something... almost like jealousy? You looked over at her, trying to make sense of it, but before you could ask, she continued, rambling softly as if trying to hide the edge in her words.

“He was an ass, Y/N. Seriously. No one should treat you the way he did. You deserve so much more than that...”

You couldn’t help it. You teased, your lips curling into a small grin. “Are you sure you’re not the one going through the breakup?”

Momo’s eyes widened in surprise before she laughed softly, her usual playful nature returning. “I’m just... sympathizing,” she said, her tone light but with a hint of something deeper you couldn’t quite place.

You softened, your expression turning more serious. “Thank you, Momo.”

The silence fell again, but this time, it felt different. It wasn’t uncomfortable. It was just two people, driving through the night, each lost in their own thoughts but sharing the same space, the same moment. The world outside was busy, filled with lights and laughter, but here, in the car, there was only warmth and quiet.

After a few more minutes of driving, Momo pulled into a small coffee shop parking lot. The warm glow of the shop’s windows was inviting, and the smell of coffee and cocoa drifted in the air. Momo shifted the car into park and turned to you, her smile returning. “Let’s go get some hot cocoa. You look like you could use it.”

You stared at the coffee shop happily, a soft smile tugging at your lips. You hadn’t realized how much you’d been craving something sweet, something to distract you from the ache that had been gnawing at your chest.

With a quick nod, you unbuckled your seatbelt, excitement bubbling up inside you. “I love hot cocoa,” you said, practically bouncing in your seat.

Momo chuckled at your enthusiasm, rolling her eyes playfully as you quickly hopped out of the car, your steps light. “You’re like a little kid,” she teased, but there was affection in her voice.

You didn’t care. For the first time all night, you felt a little lighter, and Momo was the reason for it.

As you both stepped into the coffee shop, the cozy atmosphere immediately embraced you. The air was filled with the scent of coffee, cinnamon, and a hint of peppermint. The place was decorated with twinkling lights, a large tree in the corner sparkling with gold and red ornaments, and little touches of holiday cheer all around. The soft hum of Christmas music played in the background, making everything feel warm and festive.

Momo walked up to the counter and ordered the Christmas special hot cocoa—whipped cream topped with little Christmas sprinkles, the kind that made you feel like you were inside a snow globe. When the drinks arrived, she handed one to you with a smile.

You took a sip, and the sweetness hit you almost immediately, the warmth of the cocoa comforting you in ways you didn’t expect. A wide smile spread across your face, and Momo watched, amused.

She giggled softly, her eyes crinkling with affection. “You’re adorable,” she mumbled under her breath, watching you with a soft expression. Then, without warning, she pulled out her phone and snapped a quick picture.

You blinked, caught off guard but still smiling, and struck a playful pose, holding up your mug like a model. You giggled at yourself as Momo put the phone down, her eyes still fixed on you.

“I probably look so bad right now,” you said, rubbing your eyes lightly, feeling a little embarrassed.

Momo quickly shook her head, her voice a little too loud in her rush to correct you. “Don’t say that! You’re always pretty, Y/N.” The words slipped out awkwardly, and she immediately flushed, her cheeks turning pink.

You couldn’t help but tease her. “Aww, you’re so sweet, Momo,” you said, your voice teasing as you grinned. “You’re totally in love with me, aren’t you?”

Momo sulked, slumping in her chair and crossing her arms, clearly embarrassed. “Shut up,” she muttered, hiding her face behind her mug. “You’re such a brat.”

You both fell into a comfortable silence, sipping your drinks. Then, just as the moment started to feel peaceful, Momo reached into the pocket of her hoodie. She paused for a moment before pulling out the chocolate Jihyo had given her earlier. She placed it on the table, shoving it toward you.

“Wowww, so charming,” you teased, raising an eyebrow as you picked up the chocolate, unwrapping it with a playful smile.

Momo rolled her eyes dramatically, but she was secretly pleased. “Shut up, just take it,” she muttered.

You bit into the chocolate, letting out a hum of delight at the rich flavor. “Mmm, this is so good,” you sighed, before raising an eyebrow. “Aren’t these Jihyo’s chocolates?”

Momo hesitated for a second, her cheeks flushing again. “Uh... yeah... but she said I could have it... or something...” she trailed off, clearly not wanting to elaborate.

You smirked, teasing her again. “Sure you didn’t just steal it, huh?”

She quickly changed the topic, eager to avoid the embarrassment. “Okay, okay. Let’s go for another drive. There are some really cute light displays I wanted to show you. You’ll love them.”

You finished your cocoa with a smile, feeling lighter than before, and nodded eagerly. “I’m in,” you said, excited again. “Lead the way!”

Momo stood up and grabbed her jacket, offering her hand out to you with a smile. “Alright, let’s get out of here. The lights are waiting.”

You slipped your hand into hers, and together, you stepped out into the chilly night air, the car ride ahead feeling like the perfect distraction, filled with warmth, laughter, and—maybe even a little bit of magic.

Momo sat in the driver’s seat, her hands gripping the steering wheel tightly as you climbed back into the car. Your cheeks were flushed from the cold, but your eyes sparkled, still captivated by the lights you had just seen.

“These lights are so pretty,” you said softly, glancing out the window at the glow illuminating the snowy streets. Turning to her, you added with a small smile, “This is really nice... especially because I’m with you.”

Momo’s fingers twitched against the steering wheel, her heart skipping a beat. She tried to steady her breath, her eyes briefly flicking to yours before darting back to the road. “Really?” she asked, her voice quieter than she intended.

You nodded, resting your hands in your lap. “Yeah. It’s been a while since I’ve felt this... peaceful.”

She wanted to say something, anything, but the words caught in her throat. Just as she gathered the courage to speak, your phone buzzed, breaking the fragile moment. You sighed, pulling it out and staring at the screen. Jisung. Your stomach twisted as you hesitated, but ultimately, you answered.

“Hello?” Your voice lacked its usual warmth.

On the other end, Jisung’s tone was sharp and frustrated. “Y/N, we need to talk.”

“What’s left to talk about?” you replied, exhaustion lacing your words. “You broke up with me today, Jisung. On Christmas Eve.”

“I didn’t mean for it to be like that!” he snapped, his voice rising. “But you never listen to me—”

His words blurred together as your chest tightened, the overwhelming weight of the day catching up to you. You blinked rapidly, fighting back the tears burning your eyes. “I don’t have the energy for this,” you mumbled, your voice barely audible. But before you could say more, Momo leaned over and gently, but firmly, took the phone from your hand.

“She’s busy,” Momo said sharply into the receiver, her tone calm but edged with steel. Without waiting for a response, she hung up and set the phone down on the dashboard. You stared at her, stunned. “Momo, you didn’t have to do that—”

“Yes, I did,” she interrupted, her jaw tightening. Her eyes met yours, and for a moment, the intensity there made you forget to breathe. “He doesn’t get to talk to you like that. He doesn’t deserve you.”

Her voice was steady, but there was a tremble in her hands that gave her away. “You deserve so much more than someone who makes you feel like this, Y/N. Someone who cares about you, who treats you the way you deserve to be treated.”

You swallowed hard, her words striking something deep within you. “Momo...”

Her eyes softened, and she looked down at her lap, exhaling slowly. “If it were me,” she continued, her voice quieter now, “I’d treat you better than that.”

Her confession lingered in the air, heavy and unspoken until now. Your heart raced, and you turned to fully face her, your voice barely above a whisper. “Yeah?” Momo froze, realizing the weight of what she’d just said. Slowly, she lifted her eyes to meet yours, her vulnerability laid bare. “Yeah,” she admitted, her voice barely audible but sure.

The silence between you thickened, the atmosphere in the car charged. Outside, the city lights sparkled in the distance, but neither of you noticed.

“I want to kiss you right now,” Momo blurted, her voice cutting through the quiet. Your lips curved into the faintest smile, and you tilted your head slightly. “So do it.”

Her breath hitched, and for a moment, she hesitated. Then, she leaned in, her hand trembling as it came to rest gently against your cheek. Her lips brushed yours softly at first, testing, before pressing more firmly. The kiss was warm, tender, and filled with an unspoken emotion that made your heart ache in the best way.

The faint taste of chocolate and strawberry lingered between you, and when she pulled back, her forehead rested against yours. Her eyes fluttered open, searching yours nervously.

“I’ve wanted to do that for so long,” she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper. You smiled, your fingers brushing against her cheek as you leaned closer. “Then don’t stop now.”

Her lips curved into a shy smile before she kissed you again, the city lights twinkling behind you as the night finally felt like Christmas.

The kiss deepened slowly, the initial tenderness giving way to something more urgent, more desperate. Momo’s hand slid from your cheek to the back of your neck, her fingers threading through your hair as she tilted her head to press closer. Her lips moved against yours with a quiet, restrained passion, as though she had been holding herself back for far too long but was afraid of overwhelming you.

Your hand found its way to her shoulder, gripping the fabric of her hoodie as if grounding yourself in the moment. Her other hand rested on your waist, fingers splayed like she couldn’t get enough of the feel of you under her touch.

The warmth in the car seemed to rise, the windows fogging slightly as her lips parted against yours, and you felt her breath mix with your own. There was a soft, almost inaudible sound from her throat, a hum of satisfaction that sent a shiver through you.

Your body leaned into hers instinctively, the space between you shrinking until there was hardly any left, swinging your legs over to straddle her lap. The kiss grew more insistent, her lips moving with a rhythm that felt like a conversation without words. She pulled you closer, and your chest pressed against hers, the tension thick and electric.

When you broke apart for air, both of you were breathing heavily, your faces still inches apart. Her dark eyes locked onto yours, filled with something raw and unfiltered that made your pulse race. Her thumb brushed against your jaw as if she couldn’t stop touching you, and her lips were slightly swollen, glistening from the kiss.

“Momo…” you whispered, your voice trembling with both nerves and anticipation.

Her eyes flicked to your lips, and she exhaled shakily. “I—” she began, but words seemed to fail her as her gaze returned to yours, her need palpable in the way her hands tightened their hold on you. “I want you.” she bit her lip lightly, “Please?”

You nodded lightly and she didn’t waste any time, latching onto your neck, a needy groan escaping her lips as she bit onto your skin. “Fuck, Momo..” you whined.

She continues to suck on your neck, her hands roaming under your shirt to toy with your chest almost possessively. She breaks away slightly, panting, "Let’s go to the back..."

You nod and she climbs into the backseat after you, a lustfilled glint in her eyes. She closes the door and locks it, ensuring privacy. She turns to face you, her gaze intense, yet you could see the slight nervousness on it. "Take off your shirt..."

You slip off your jacket before taking off your shirt, revealing your black bra that’s decorated with lace at the hems, Momo’s mouth practically drooled at the sight, “You’re so beautiful..” she muttered before pulling you closer, she pushed you down softly onto the cars door as she hovered over your body, kissing from your collarbone to your chest, swiftly unlatching your bra, almost like muscle memory.

She cursed under her breath at the sight of your bare chest and didn’t waste any time to latch on, putting her swollen lips onto one of your hardened nipples, a sensitive moan escaping your lips as your hands tangled onto her black hair, she hummed in delight, “Gosh Y/N-ie, you taste so good..” you whimpered as you grinded your clothed center on her thigh, a pout on your lip as you carressed her head.

“No ones fucked you like this before, no?” she kept sucking your tits as her hands fiddled on the buttons of your jeans. You shook your head, “Bet that shit-head of your boyfriend couldn’t make you feel good.” she bit softly onto your nipple, you threw your head back slightly. “Hnngh— n-no…” Momo chuckled softly “Yeah? couldn’t make your pretty cunt feel good?”

She digged her hand through your pants and began toying on your swollen clit through your underwear, “Couldn’t… satisfy me.—Nngh.”

“Gosh, you’re so wet, baby, so fucking cute, can’t wait to feel you inside me.” she smirked against your skin, leaving a path of wet kisses all over your collarbone and breasts. “Please, i need it Momo..”

“Yeah? you need me inside you? Fuck..” she slowly dipped her fingers in your wet cunt, moving your panties to the side as she tested the waters, letting you adjust to her length, you could see in her face she was holding back—holding back the urge to absolutely ruin you with her fingers, make you forget the existence of that shitty man from how good she was making that pussy feel.

She curled her fingers in deeper, her palm rubbing your clit from time to time, she pressed her lips on yours in a hungry kiss, a low husky growl leaving her lips as your moans vibrated against them, your sounds were like a vivid symphony to her, she craved more and more, the touch of your skin, the wetness and tight squeeze around her length, the smell of slight musk covered by your fruity perfume—she craved it all.

“Gosh i’ve wanted this for so long. I crave you, Y/N.” she moved her fingers in figure eights, “Wanted you so badly—wanted to have you like this.” she kissed your neck as she curled her fingers, inching them even deeper now, “Fuck—! Momo.. It feels so good!” she chuckled before speeding up her pace again, the muscles on her forearm flexing at every thrust. “Yeah? Unnie fucks your pussy good, right?”

“So fucking good—Gosh, fuckfuck fuck! Momo..” She practically ripped your pants off you, the garment flying somewhere to the passenger seat, your panties coming off with it too. “Good girl, baby.” she coos as she puts her tongue right on your pussy, both her fingers and tongue doing the work, your hand instinctively went to push her further into your cunt, her structured nose brushing against your clit, she smelled the scent of sex, your wetness—it was addicting.

Her chin was coated with a mix of her own saliva and your pussy juices. The sound of pornographic squelching, low groans and moans echoed through the cars exterior, you were so dripping wet she was sure she’d have to deep clean her car seat after this.

She grabbed your thighs, a rather harsh squeeze as she pushed you down onto her tongue, you began rutting your hips back and forth on her face, humping your cunt on it like a bitch in heat. It wasn’t long until you felt close, that knot form in your stomach, breathing getting heavier and moans going up an octave as your voice cracked. “Momo-nee, fuck…fuckfuckfuck— close, i’m fucking close.”

She spat on your cunt, “Yeah? cum for me, Y/N, keep moaning my name.” and you did as requested, vision turning white as you saw stars; eyes rolling to the back of your head as your body went into a slight spasm from your orgasm.

She helped you ride your high, seeing your face during orgasm and how pretty your back looked arched might’ve made her cum on the spot, untouched. “Gosh, you’re so pretty..” she pampered you with kisses all over your face and lips, tiny whiny giggles from the ticklish feeling leaving your lips.

Suddenly your face grew red and you avoided her gaze.

“Are you okay?” Momo’s eyebrows furrowed as she caressed your cheek, her eyes beady under the christmas moonlight. “I’m sorry if i pushed it, I…uhm.. we can pretend this never happened and I’ll—“

“No no, it’s okay. I liked it, a lot, It’s just…” you bit your lip out of hesitation “That was my first time with uhm.. a girl.”

Momo’s face grew red, she tried to speak up but only an exhale escaped her mouth, there was a moment of silence before you both giggled, “Come on, let’s go home before the girls think i drove you off a cliff or something.” She handed you your clothes and the blanket that was in the passenger before she jumped to the drivers seat, starting the engine and driving off while you got dressed in the back.

“I guess that chocolate really was useful after all.”

[baronessvonglitter]

Law of Attraction ~ Chapter 4

Rom Con AU divorce lawyer!Dave York x fem!Reader

Word count: 2,759

Summary: You and Dave naturally become closer in a friendship comprised of two lonely people.

WARNINGS: Rated T. No smut, but there is brief mention of a fantasy (nothing described). Dave is a capital S - Simp! No physical infidelity but definitely an emotional affair. Fluff. Idiots falling in love and they don't even know it yet. No use of y/n.

Author's note: I wanted to give these two some more time together to let their romance blossom. They keep going on dates that are not dates but are totally dates. I want to thank everyone who's shown love for this lil series of mine, which is honestly such a surprise because I wrote it thinking people would pan it. I will strive to keep bringing y'all some rom com goodness 🩷

Series Masterlist

Out of sight, out of mind. But even when you're not in sight, you're still on Dave's mind.

He starts his morning early, a brisk run through the park, a shower, selecting a suit for that day, rifling through the abundance of ties he has on a spinning rack in the walk-in close he shares with Carol.

Nine times out of ten she disapproves, making a face when he comes down, swiftly putting down her tea so she can remove whatever color or print has offended her eyes and telling him which one to wear. Though he's a lawyer he's not going to argue with his wife. He goes upstairs and switches it out for the one Carol wants.

Breakfast is usually had on the go, but he makes sure the girls get to school with something nutritious in their bellies, walking them to the school doors and kissing the tops of their heads before they disappear inside. He's aware of the looks some of the mothers and even the teachers give him, and he gives a friendly wave or smile to each, but he's not thinking about their smiles and sultry 'good morning' greetings.

He thinks about you more often than he should, considering you're no longer his client. But he appreciates that you promote his services on the corkboard near the register at your bakery.

A smile stays on his face all day when you send over a thank-you gift of an assortment of bagels and muffins, complete with flavored cream cheese, butter, and jam. It's the most thoughtful thing anyone's done for him in a long time, made concrete when he spots a special blueberry muffin in a separate pastry box from the others, with a little note tucked inside:

I can't thank you enough, Dave. I'll always appreciate what you've done for me. Your name is signed on the bottom.

There's a slight scent on the paper, probably the perfume on your wrist that rubbed off as you wrote the note. He presses it to his lips just briefly.

He goes to your cafe every morning, heart racing, gut twisting with anticipation of seeing you. He subtly checks himself in the window before going in, making sure his hair looks okay and his tie is straight.

On the days he doesn't see you there, disappointment sits heavy in his chest, similar to a kind of heartbreak, as he orders his coffee and heads across the street to work.

He tries not to look overeager when he does see you behind the counter, though he feels the blood rush to his face (and even lower, if he's honest). Sure, he's found other women attractive, but he hasn't had a crush since high school.

And that's just what this is - a crush.

You're beautiful and kind and funny and smart. And single.

And he's married.

Still, it's not a crime to get a coffee and a raspberry danish just because the owner is a stunning and sweet former client.

You greet him with a smile that's different from others, special, set aside, more genuine. And he returns that smile. You've stopped insisting he doesn't need to pay, and take his credit card with a little smirk as you spy him putting money in the tip jar.

"What? Business is obviously terrible," he returns your smirk, glancing back at the line that's formed, that forms every day in fact. You haven't had a bad business day in awhile, and he's happy to be a small part of your patronage.

Every day is too much, right? It's not like you have much time to chat anyway. A quick hello, do anything fun over the weekend, hope you have a good day.

He makes the choice to go just three days a week. He's worried he might come off as a stalker, some deranged guy wanting your attention because you're single now. On the days he doesn't come to your cafe he stays at the office, puts his coffee order in with a group DoorDashing from Starbucks or Dunkin' Donuts, and it never tastes the same as yours.

It doesn't help that you're suddenly gone for a week. Then two. The last time you'd been absent was right after your breakup with that asshole Javier, and he worries about you. In between meetings and consultations, he finds your file with your phone number, but thinks twice about calling or texting you.

The next time he's at the cafe he casually asks the young man at the register, "Hey, I haven't seen the big boss in awhile," and the cashier tells him your on a vacation with your family.

He's grateful you're okay, and glad you're enjoying yourself after all you've been through so far. But it doesn't really ease the ache that gnaws at him like a fresh bruise that has yet to turn an odd color.

It takes him completely by surprise when, the next time he does see you, you pull him aside to show him your photos from the cruise you took with your parents and siblings, turquoise-polished thumb swiping gracefully over photos of you with your family posing in front of a huge cruise ship; some scenery shots of the ocean and pink sands of the Bahamas; and others of you hanging out on the pool deck sipping a fruity orange drink, a beatific smile on your lips. Dave gives a small cough when he sees one of you in your swimsuit, obviously just a selfie and not meant to be seen by him. He blushes as you click out of the photos.

"Sorry, I guess I just wanted to tell someone how it went," you tell him, putting your phone away.

"Don't be sorry. Looks like you had fun."

"I was a little seasick the first few days. It was awful," you laugh.

"I know how you feel. My wife and I took the kids on one of those Disney cruises last year, and I'd never been happier to set foot on dry land."

He asks you more about the sights, the beaches, the restaurants. There's nothing better than the smile that lights up your face as you talk about your experiences, and he hangs onto every word.

Suddenly there's a buzzing in his pocket. He reaches quickly for his phone and learns he's late for a meeting with a new client. He curses quietly. "I have to go," he apologizes. "We should catch up later."

"Lunch tomorrow?" It's hard for him to ignore the hopefulness in your voice, the notes of which sing straight into his heart.

"Tomorrow," he nods and smiles, heading out.

It's just supposed to be one lunch. Just two people who know each other and get along well. Just friends, but even Dave doesn't dare to let his mind venture too far into any further possibilities because of the fact that you're vulnerable.

Dave wants to feel guilty for monopolizing your free time, especially considering the way he feels about you. But then one lunch turns into two, and then three. and it becomes the most natural thing in the world to meet with you for an hour or so during the day. There's a significance in carving out time for each other that neither of you mention as an easy, genuine affinity blooms between you.

He's never texted another woman simply because he wants to. Everything has been business related, but he catches the way his heart skips a beat when he receives a text from you. Due to the nature of his work he keeps some privacy by only showing your name and not the message itself on his home screen. It's usually something related to your plans:

I heard that new sandwich place is really good. We should lunch there soon.

I'm trying out a new muffin recipe. Stop by tomorrow and tell me what you think.

They're featuring Monet at the museum this week and I'd love to get you in for free again!

It's not a date, but quite reminiscent of one when he does meet you on the front steps of the museum. His hand naturally rests on the small of your back, a gesture born of protectiveness and intimacy. You don't smell of roses this time, but something softer, sweeter, indefinably you. Dressed all in pink, from the casual long sleeve shirt and sequined skirt to the flowers you're idly twirling in your fingers, you look like a dream.

He never feels at peace unless he's in your presence, a fact which he tries like hell not to think about. You're not even trying to be alluring, and that's the hard part. If you'd make a move he'd politely sidestep it (or at least he tells himself he would) but you're just friendly, approachable, sweet.

You watch the art and Dave watches you. Your profile, the way your eyes squint slightly when you're really trying to see the details of the paintings, the quick pink tongue that peeks out to wet your lips now and then. And when you catch him staring at you, you have the audacity to smile, give him a playful shove. It could be your slight warning, your reminder that he's married and you're friends. But he doesn't mind the contact, as brief as it is.

As he walks you to your car it starts pouring down rain. Sans umbrella, he whisks you under the nearest canopy to wait out the sudden shower.

"How did you know I wanted to see a movie?" you tease him, and he looks up to see you're taking shelter under a marquee heralding classic films.

"Shall we?" he asks, and after purchasing two tickets you find your way inside. The theater is cozy and warm as The Apartment plays onscreen. Your fingers touch while you share the popcorn bucket, and he chuckles when you get brain freeze from your cherry icee.

"Are you okay?" he asks, slipping his arm around your shoulders. It's an involuntary act that doesn't register until he feels the warmth of your body under his touch and he tenses around you for a moment.

He's tempted to leave it there for the rest of the movie, but he knows how it would sound if someone saw him here with you and it got back to Carol. He could probably talk his way out of it if she ever questioned him, but he also knows she's so preoccupied with her own life that she'd be completely oblivious if he were to bring you home and do ungentlemanly things to you in front of her.

"What does she do?" you ask as you're sharing a post-movie snack at the cafe. It's near closing time and you've whipped up Monte Cristo sandwiches and hot herbal tea. ("I just love tea after a good rain," you'd told him, and he stashed away that little fact in his ever-growing file of you in his brain.)

"Carol's a hospital director at Mercy Memorial," he says, hoping that saying her name out loud will ward off the thoughts he's having about you.

"That sounds pretty important. A lawyer and a hospital director.." you sip your drink, letting the heat from the cup warm your hands.

"She likes taking charge and making decisions," he shrugs. "I guess you could say it suits her."

You'd brought her up simply because you felt you needed to. Spending all this extra time with someone whose wife you weren't even acquainted with was starting to feel like a secret you could never spill. You thought about all the women you know Javier had been involved with, knowing he was taken. Did they ever stop and think about you and how their actions would hurt you?

Then again, you doubt any of Javier's whores had daydreamed over Monet paintings with him, or shared a laugh over an old black and white film. They likely never ran through rain sprinkles or cooked a late night meal together.

But it doesn't necessarily make you innocent.

"What would she say about us.. hanging out?"

Dave really thinks about the question. "I don't know, " he says at last. "She might not even care."

"Don't say that," you tell him immediately. "She's been with you for so long. She obviously loves you and the girls." When Dave goes quiet over this, you fill the silence before it can become awkward. "Sorry.. I didn't mean to put a damper on our day."

Our day. Dave has to smile at the comforting sound those words have."I'm sorry," he says. "I wish I knew what was going on in Carol's head. It sometimes feels like we're in a chess match and she's playing by a different set of rules that's never existed before."

You lean forward in your seat, listening.

"She's a control freak," he says at last. "She works too much and criticizes people for what they lack. I proposed to her when I was in law school and she refused, saying she wanted to be engaged to an actual attorney. She wouldn't say yes until I passed the bar."

That should have been the first red flag, he knows that now. But he was young and in love. Carol had first dated Dave's college roommate before things went sour with them. Now he knows she just wanted to marry status.

"She hated that I changed fields. Criminal law is where most of us can make a name for ourselves, but I wanted something else. She gave me the cold shoulder for three weeks when I switched to family law." He chuckles at it now, but at the time he felt like nothing he could do was ever good enough for her. Any time he was happy she seemed to be the opposite.

"And then the kids came and every perspective I had changed. Children can bring a couple together. But more often they split you apart."

"Alice and Molly are great," you tell him, sensing he needs some positive reassurance. "They're such sweet kids."

Dave agrees smiling. "And how are you doing? How's living on your own for the first time?"

A dry, bitter chuckle leaves you. "I'm considering getting a cat. But I know I'd pick up stray after stray.. I'm continually one cat away from being the Crazy Lonely Cat Woman."

"You should get a dog," he says.

"Do you have one?"

He shakes his head. "Can't. Carol's allergic."

"Then I'll definitely get one. We'll pick out a dog together and I'll keep it at my place, and you can come and visit whenever you want."

"That actually sounds like a nice idea.."

"What kind of dog should we get? A nice golden retriever? Labradoodle? Shiba Inu?"

"I'm pretty sure that last one's made up," he smirks. And yet it feels so normal, discussing something so domestic with you, and the thought of sharing any kind of space with you sets a new beat to his heart, as if redirecting and resetting it.

Later after you've closed up he walks you to your car. There's a chill in the air and you've rolled your sleeves down. You've put the pink flowers you had from earlier that day in your purse. When you release them they fill the air between you with their fragrance. "Give these to Carol," you tell him, hating to waste the last of their beauty forgotten on your dashboard.

"And, do me another favor, Dave?" He turns back to you when you call out.

You smile, holding his gaze a little longer. "Wear blue more often. It brings out your eyes.."

Carol doesn't come home until after Dave is already awake. She either ignores or doesn't notice the flowers he left on her pillow, and it pleases him to have a reminder of you in his own bed, as if you've already made your mark on something so intimate.

Later when he comes downstairs in a navy suit and royal blue tie, he ignores Carol's critical stare as he grabs an apple from the counter.

"Darling, change something about that suit. You look like you're going to a wedding."

He shakes his head, enjoying the look on his wife's face when he refuses to comply. "I like it. Blue's my color."

"At least get that ridiculous wilted flower out of your pocket."

He pats the pink bloom you gave him the night before, a small symbol of his insubordination and leaves without saying anything, pulling out his phone to text you good morning.

dividers by @strangergraphics 👑

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@almostempty

[hoziersleftear]

Damian Al-Ghul Wayne who has literally no concept of love outside his parents’ very complicated relationship.

Damian has no concept of sexuality because that stuff never mattered in the LoA. In fact attachments such as love were seen as a weakness; something to hinder his assassin skills.

When Damian first arrives at Wayne Manor he believes he’s being tested because why on Earth are these people so enthusiastic??? Eventually Damian grows and learns to recognise familial love, but he still doesn’t know romantic love or anything about sexuality.

At a gala some rich socialites encourage their daughters to go speak with the only blood son of WE who they’re sure will be the heir. Damian is very uncomfortable when a flock of girls his age are following him throughout the gala like he’s the most interesting thing to cross their paths. They’re batting their eyelashes and asking him to do things he’s sure they could do on their own and he couldn’t be more frustrated by the incompetence.

The other Waynes find it hilarious to watch Damian resist the urge to start fighting the girls off in one to ten combat.

While Damian is worried thinking about why those girl could possibly want his attention so desperately he can’t help but feel a warmth in his chest whenever he sees Jon. Each time they hang out Damian can recognise that he feels differently for Jon than he does for family or anyone in the JL.

It isn’t until Tim comes out to the family that Damian learns what sexuality even is. He’s had no reference outside his mother and father who couldn’t be a worse example of a romantic relationship. He doesn’t ask any questions despite his curiosity because why would he let Drake know something about him that even he wasn’t fully sure about.

With weeks of contemplation Damian reaches the conclusion that there is maybe a chance he has what one would call a “crush” on Jon. This isn’t a bad thing in his mind, just something that has occurred. He’s pushing past years of abuse surrounding his upbringing and believes that his clouded view of love is just one more thing to conquer.

Again, Damian had no reference for sexuality up until Tim came out and therefore no concept of homophobia. He doesn’t know these feelings aren’t socially acceptable, he just knows the League would disapprove of him liking Jon as much as they’d disapprove of him liking any of those girls from the galas.

When Damian decides to come out to Jon and confess his feelings he doesn’t plan on it going anywhere but he also doesn’t see a point in hiding this from his best friend. It isn’t until Jon is hugging him and confessing his shared feelings and how he was scared Damian was homophobic that Damian even hears that word. He asks what “homophobic” means because yes he understands word parts but the concept is new.

Jon is clueless until Damian’s pulling away from the hug and asking what that word means. Only then does he realize that Damian had quite literally no fear in his confession. It’s then that Jon takes it upon himself to grab his brother so he and Kon can teach Damian everything there is to know about being queer.

[magicalbuttertarts]

*Christmas Morning*

"You all good baby?" Damian asked me as he stood in front of me. I was in my spot on the couch, watching as our children were tearing into their gifts that we got them.

Sebastian and Adan were helping Elena and Benito open their bigger gifts that they received from other family members who could not make it to our place later.

"I am fine Damian." I told him, hoping my voice didn't change as I looked up at him.

"I will go start on breakfast. The family will be here in a couple of hours." Damian told me as he leaned down and kissed the top of my head.

I closed my eyes savouring the moment, because I know once I tell him that I am in labour, he is not going to be happy with me.

◆

We ate a delicious breakfast of mallorcas, which is a special treat we have a few times a year, we got dressed for the day. The last time we had them was the day I told Damian I was pregnant with baby number 5.

I was sitting back in my usual seat, per the order of my husband.

I was watching Elena play with Stitch toy that moves, when I heard our two oldest start to complain.

"Oh Dad, that is disgusting." Adan said.

"Yeah, come on. There are kids here." Sebastian said, adding on to his brother's complaints.

I looked over and saw what my dear husband was wearing and I let out a loud laugh at what he was wearing.

I get why the boys are upset, but it is just a funny sweater.

"Well, I happen to love the sweater." I said, watching as our sons turned to look at me, with even more disgust on their young faces, but all Damian did was laugh and wink at me.

I went to smile back at him, but a contraction decided to hit right then and there, making me scrunch up my face in pain.

"Mommy, are you okay?" Elena asked me as she showed Benito her new toy, making him grab for it.

"I am fine." I told them, as I breathed through my nose trying not to draw attention to myself.

Without missing a beat, Damian strolled over to me, kneeling down in front of me, and placing his hand on my very pregnant belly.

"When were the first contractions?" He softly asked me.

"Around twoish this morning." I finally told him, making him just sigh at me.

"And how far apart are the contractions?" I told him every ten minutes, so we still had time, but I closed my mouth mid sentence when another contraction hit.

Fuck. This baby is now coming.

Damian was already on the phone, calling for an ambulance as.

I heard him swear and then say sorry to the dispatcher on the phone.

"What is going on?" I called out.

"No available ambulances." Damian told me, as my eyes squeezed shut as a new contraction hit.

"Adan, Sebastian, take your brother and sister to the play room." Damian said, as he rolled up his sleeves to that ridiculous sweater.

"Damian, what are you doing?" I asked him as he was running around the house.

"Just stay right there. Sebastian if you can, move your mother's feet up to the lower part of couch."

Sebastian did as he asked, and I knew what was going on.

I was about to give birth at home.

◆

I found my self laying a top a shower curtain that was ripped down from the guest washroom, towels and blankets all around me.

I could hear the loud music from the playroom as I let out another scream.

Damian was between my spread legs, the dispatcher was still on the phone with him, telling him what to do.

"Get this baby out of me." I cried out, feeling tired.

This has been my fastest birth so far, but I am still feeling tired.

"We are almost done love. Just a few more pushes." Damian said, his voice not once wavering.

I pushed again and again, until it finally happened.

Their cries were loud, making me laugh with relief.

"It's a girl." Damian said as he wrapped her in a towel, and gently placing a blanket over me after he laid her on my chest.

I started to cry when she was in my arms, so happy that she was here safe.

Damian washed his hands before grabbing his phone to let the dispatcher know what was going on.

"Okay. We will wait for them. Yes the front door is open, as is the gate. Thank you." He said before hanging up the phone.

"You did it." I said to myself husband, a watery smile on my face.

"You did it my love." Damian told me as he cleaned up as much of the mess as you could.

The paramedics came rushing in a few minutes later, going over our babygirl and I.

"I will grab the kids and meet you at the hospital. I called our parents and they are telling everyone." Damian said as he kissed me as he walked us out to the ambulance.

◆

We were looked over quickly, and the both of us seemed to be in good health. She is already nursing and just finished as my family walked into my room.

I placed the newest addition to our family in the little bassinet next to my bed.

"You four want to meet your little sister?" Damian asked them, with a proud smile on his face.

"A sister? Santa did give me what I wanted." Elena squealed making Damian and I chuckle.

"What is her name?" Adan asked us.

"Natalie Mia Carina Priest." I said to them as they gathered around her.

Damian stood on the opposite side, gently grabbing my hand as we watched our children meet their baby sister.

"Thank you for giving me the best Christmas gift possible." Damian said as I looked up at him.

He cupped my face and gently kissed me.

"And thank you for everything my sweet husband. Merry Christmas." I muttered against his lips, just before we turned to look at our five beautiful children.

Yes, it is most definitely a Merry Christmas.

Tag list: @lghockey @nicoleveno14 @madhatterbri @legit9thlunaticwarrior @hooks-martin @wwenhlimagines @melissahausen @tahiri-veyla @crowleysqueenofhell @terrortwinunicorn @hotwheels1108 @there-goes-thefighter @claymoresofinfamy23

WWE Masterlist

Main Masterlist

Damian Priest x f/Reader

Just like all my other stories, this has not been proofread, but please enjoy.

Warnings: unprotected sex. P in v sex. Oral (f receiving). So much fluff.

WC: 2892

Gifs and photos do not belong to me: title photo is from @lorena26 . The other photo was from Damian's Instagram.

©️ magicalbuttertarts 2024: do not repost or translate my work. This is the only place I post my work.

F/Reader looks back at how her and her husband Damian got together. She was a sorority girl, and he was the hot nerd that couldn't keep a relationship.

I rolled over, slowly placing my hand on his side of the the bed, but I felt just a cold pillow. I opened one eye to see that I was alone, and I instantly knew where he would be.

It also helped that I heard the laughter of second youngest laughing at her father, bringing a tired smile to my face.

I got up and stretched, putting on one of his old star wars tshirts and a pair of his boxers that I have taken for myself, and walked down the hallway towards the sound of kids play room.

I could see him sitting at the sparkly yellow table, with a tiara on his head, a green feather boa over his shoulders, and his glasses on his face as he clicked tea cups with Elena, and then with our youngest, Benito, who was happily clapping his hands in his father's lap, swinging the plastic teacup around, almost hitting my husband in the face.

I smiled as I watched this moment happen between the three of them.

I decided to leave them there and to start on breakfast.

But as I got to the kitchen, I could smell that he already had something in the oven, and my mouth instantly watered as I could smell the Pan de Mallorca baking in the oven.

I decided to leave it alone, already knowing he has a timer on his phone ready to check on it.

I walked towards our family room, enjoying the peace and quiet until the rest of our children woke up.

Knowing our two oldest, they would be in bed until I go and wake them up.

It wasn't very often I get mornings like this, as Damian is away from home most week days.

He built up his own IT Cybersecurity firm, and he has truly worked hard all these years building up his company.

He is proud of it and says that it is one of his greatest accomplishments, but when asked what is greatest accomplishment is, he always says his family.

As I sat in our family room, I looked at all the photos of us throughout the years.

We have photos upon photos on the wall, and they are all wonderful memories, but then my eyes caught the one in the center of it all.

The very first photo Damian and I ever took together.

I couldn't help but think back all those years ago, and how we got together.

It was my last year of university and I was focused on partying along with my sorority sisters.

I was a Legacy, my mother before me was in the same sorority, as was her sisters and my grandmother.

When I first got to University, I didn't want to belong to any sorority, but when I got accepted to the same university as my family members, I knew I would be sought after.

At first I said no, that I didn't want to be apart of it, wanting to be my own person, but then there was problem with the dorms, and I didn't have a place to stay on campus.

So I said yes, and now I am almost done school, having the best time with my sorority sisters.

My GPA is decent, 3.7 so the partying has never gotten in the way of that.

I dated throughout school, but none never seemed to stick. They were basically jocks whose whole life revolved around whatever sport they played and partying.

So for the first time in a long time, I am single, and I promised myself that I was going to be single for my last year and try to focus on school and my friends.

But then Quantum mechanics that last year was kicking my ass.

◆

"You will be assigned a tutor." My Professor said to me, and all I could was agree.

"Who is it?" I asked her.

"Damian Priest."

I have never talked to the guy, but he seemed nice.

I knew he dated a few of my sorority sisters but he never seemed to last long in a relationship.

From what I been told, he is to nerdy.

His room his filled with action figures, movie posters, old text books, and I have only ever seen his nose buried in a book.

But even I can admit, he is freaking good looking.

◆

"Now, I want you to answer a few of these practice questions to see what we are working with." Damian said to me as he handed me the practice test, but it was hard to focus with him sitting across from me.

This is the first time I have gotten a good look at him, and I can see why so many people thought he was good looking.

He probably is the most gorgeous guy on campus and he doesn't even seem to care.

I shook my head and started to work on the practice test.

◆

I was biting my bottom lip as he looked over the test.

"Hmm." Was all he said.

"Did I do okay?" I nervously asked.

He placed the test on the table. "You got just about half right. The ones you got wrong, I will go over how to get the correct answer."

Damian got up from the opposite side of the table, and sat down in the seat next to me, and the smell of his cologne hit my nose, and shit, he smells good.

This is going to be longest day of my life.

◆

One hour of Damian trying to teach me how to get the correct answer, but I was no better off.

"Let's call it a night. I know it was a lot for the first session." He stretched and his shirt lifted and I got a good look at his abs and the bit of the hair disappearing under into his jeans.

I shifted in my seat and to my utter embarrassment, I could feel how soaked my panties were.

That night, once I got to my room, I pulled out my favourite vibrating dildo and came so hard to the thought of Damian.

◆

This went on for weeks.

I would have my tutoring session with him, come home and cum on my favourite toy.

Then one night, it all changed.

It was our turn to throw a party, and it was Halloween.

Damian, the ever kind man, understood why I couldn't make it this week to our tutoring session.

"But next week, let's meet twice." I squealed when he said that, and kissed his cheek.

I pretended not to notice how his cheeks seem to heat up, as he covered his cheek.

"Come to the party." I told him, hoping he would come.

"I don't know." He looked a bit uncomfortable.

"Even for 10 minutes. Come and find me and I won't leave your side."

"I will think on it." He still looked unsure.

"Thank you." I said softly to him.

◆

As the party went on, I kept an eye out for Damian, not knowing if he would be coming or not.

I danced with random guys, but none of them seemed to hold my attention.

The one I just left was just showing me his bicep and I had to hold in my eyeroll.

I turned around after excusing myself from this one-sided conversation, and walked right into a hard chest, their arms wrapped around my waist to keep me from falling backwards.

I looked up, ready to apologise to the person, when I noticed who it was.

"Damian, you came." I exclaimed.

"I figured what was the harm of ten minutes." He joked and smiled back at him.

"I see you and I had a similar idea." I told him, as I looked at the jersey he was wearing.

"Yes, but I guess you dressed like Dottie from A League of Their Own."

Finally someone who knew where this costume was from.

The song changed, and it was a bit slower than what has been playing most the night.

Damian still had his arms wrapped around my waist.

"You wanna dance?" Damian asked.

"Sure."

Let's just say he didn't leave early as we spent the rest of the night together, until he decided to leave.

I wanted to invite him up to my room, but he kissed my cheek and told me he would see me for our next tutoring session.

◆

I was helping to clean up with the other girls, when my best friend spoke up. "I saw you with Damian last night." I looked over at her, and I noticed she and a few girls were staring at me, hard.

"Yeah, he is a good guy, and he is very good looking."

They muttered in agreement.

"But you know he is a nerd right?" Our sorority president spoke up. I looked over at her, nodding my head yes, knowing he is considered a nerd.

"I dated him for a bit, and things were going smoothly until I went to his room." Another girl said.

"Yes I heard about his nerdy stuff."

"No, you don't understand. He likes going to comic con. He is obsessed with wrestling and even has Star Wars blankets and sheets." Another girl spoke up.

I couldn't help but find that adorable that Damian was bring true to himself, and not letting anyone tell him what he should and shouldn't like.

"We just danced and talked." I wanted this conversation to end.

"Just keep it that way." The sorioty president said, then we went back cleaning up, their words replaying over and over again in my mind.

◆

I cancelled on our next tutoring session, pretending to be sick, and even didn't go to class.

Damian didn't question me, just asked me to get in contact him when I am feeling better.

I didn't respond, but a few hours later, as I was walking to the kitchen, there was a knock on the front door.

I opened up, putting on the sick act and there was a delivery driver there. He said my name and I said that was me.

"Then this is for you." He handed me the paper bag and I saw that it was from the Soup Emporium.

"I didn't order this." I said to him, clearly confused.

"A man by the name of Damian paid for it."

A lump was forming in the back of my throat as I told the driver thank you.

I ate the soup, savouring how delicious it tasted.

◆

I found myself at the entrance to his dorm room that night.

I knew he lived alone, and I knew he was there because his favourite show was on, and it was almost over.

He opened the door, and said my name once I was there.

He went to open his mouth to speak even more, but I grabbed his collar and pulled him in for a kiss, smashing my lips against his.

At first his lips didn't move, and I started to panic thinking I read this all wrong, until he pulled me flush against his body, and kissed me back with as much enthusiasm as me.

"I thought you were sick?" He questioned against my lips.

"Just needed a day." Was all I told him as he pulled me into his room, slamming the door behind me.

I was stuck between him and the door, but I didn't care.

Not when he pushed his hips against me and I could feel how hard and large he was.

"I need you Damian." I whined as he started to kiss way down my neck.

"I need you to, baby." He pulled back, looking me in the eyes.

◆

My hand was covering my mouth as Damian gripped my hips as he fucked me from behind. He was stretching me beyond I have ever been stretched.

I couldn't think about anything but how much I have cum already.

Earlier, Damian had me laying against his Yoda pillows, him between my thighs as he had his strong arm over my stomach, holding me down as he made me cum over and over again with his mouth and fingers.

My one hand was tangled in his hair, grinding my pussy against his face, as my other hand was gripping his Millennium Falcon sheets.

Damian didn't stop until I literally pushed his head away, telling him it was all too much.

He lifted hid face, his mouth and chin soaked with my juices, "I am not done with you." I literally whimpered as he got off the bed and pulled me along with him.

"Feel so good." He grunted from behind, as he slapped my ass, making me cry out his name.

I was so close. My whole body felt like it was on fire as I was close to finishing.

"Come on baby. I can feel you. Cum for me. Come on." He groaned behind me, speeding up his pace making me cry out his name for the final time.

He let out a string of curses as I came around his cock, my pussy fluttering around his cock as I moaned his name like a prayer.

Damian's thrusts became erratic before he pulled out, his hand quickly jerking himself off before he came all over my ass and my back.

I collapsed on his bed, not being able to be on all fours any longer.

He joined me, laying on his side after he cleaned us both up. Damian moved my hair from my face.

"Damian, I like you." I said, not even realising I said anything, which made him chuckle.

"I hope so, because I like you too."

The two of us falling asleep in his bed, but we woke up the next morning, and had our first date, which was a breakfast date.

◆

My sorority sisters weren't happy about him and I being together, but I didn't care.

They started to come around to us being together when he helped the others with their classes.

Two weeks later him and I told each other we loved one another.

Damian was complete opposite and he completed me. He was nerdy, yes, but he was kind, and sweet, and treated me amazing.

I passed my Quantum mechanics class, and my GPA even went up to 3.8, which is what I graduated with.

Damian proposed to me just after we graduated, and we didn't wait to get married.

Our wedding was a mix of traditional like what I wanted and what he wanted.

Our cake topper was us coming out of the Tardis. The flowers weren't even real flowers, they were flowers made out of comic books.

It was the perfect mixture of him and I.

My thoughts were pulled back to the present when I heard the giggly voice of Elena calling for me.

"Say good morning to mommy, Benito." Damian said as he handed me a plate with a piece of Pan de Mallorca.

"Good morning my loves." I told my two youngest, as Damian leaned down and gave me a kiss goodmorning.

"Good morning Mommy." Elena said, as Benito squealed happily in his father's arms.

"Sebastian and Adan still sleeping?" I asked Damian, who nodded his head.

"I will be waking them up soon. They have to get ready for camp." I agreed with him.

"Let's just let then sleep a bit longer. A few more minutes won't hurt them. They are packed already and the bus won't be here until noon."

◆

Sebastian and Adan are on their way to camp, the two of them barely acknowledging their father and I as they rushed past us, out the front door.

Elena and Benito are with Damian's parents.

"We are alone for the day." I said to him as I snuggled into his side.

"Mmmm, the last time we were alone like this was a couple of months ago. Remember?" Damian said as he turned his head to look at me.

"How could I forget. It was the two of us, there was a storm and we lost power. The only light we had was candles."

He pulled me into his lap, and I could feel how hard he was beneath me, making the two of us moan.

"Remember what we did to pass the time?" I asked him, as I leaned forward and nipped his neck, making him shudder.

"Yes, oh lord yes baby." Was all he said as he flipped us around, pinning me against the couch cushions.

"Damian, I have to tell you something." I gasped as he knelt down between my thighs, kissing up and down my thighs.

"I am sure it can wait baby. We are finally alone." He growled.

"I'm pregnant." I told him, making him look at me.

"Really?" He asked surprised.

"Yeah." I smiled, knowing he would be thrilled.

"We have been careful." He was trying to figure out when we didn't use protection.

For a man so smart, sometimes he is a bit slow.

"We were just talking about the time."

"Baby number 5."

"Baby number 5." I squealed out as he wrapped his lips around my clit and started to suck.

My hand gripped the Thor blanket that was thrown over the back of the couch, thanking my lucky stars that I fell in love with the nerdy man of my dreams.

Tag list: @lghockey @nicoleveno14 @madhatterbri @legit9thlunaticwarrior @hooks-martin @wwenhlimagines @melissahausen @faerieofthenightcourt @tahiri-veyla @crowleysqueenofhell @terrortwinunicorn @hotwheels1108 @there-goes-thefighter @claymoresofinfamy23

[soohiefan13]

better? (momokarun) short fic!

notes: 1.7k

warning: depressive behaviors

⍣ ೋ

at this point, it had been six agonizingly slow days-- for both momo and ken. he had gone a full week without seeing his best friend at school, and since he had no way of contacting her (since her phone was blown to bits, and she can never seem to get her hands on a new one), he was left with no other choice than to go to her house.

and he did... everyday. but momo refused to let him see her in her state. laying in her bed, deepening the "momo-shaped" crater she was creating in her mattress. body stiff from laying there so long, only getting up one or two times a day to use the restroom and stand in the kitchen, hungry, but ultimately deciding against eating. she hadn't bathed or even changed clothes for the past week. momo knew it was gross and she hated herself for it; her pathetic behavior. but she just couldn't bring herself to get up and do something about it. her grandma would knock on her door and bring her a snack every once in a while.

"hey, kid. brought you a little something. eat your fill." her grandma would say, and trade out a plate of food momo didn't eat hours before for a fresh plate of food, which would end up sitting there for hours.

it was raining when ken began his walk to momo's from the corner store. he went in and bought some of momo's favorite treats, trying to build up the courage to visit her again. he prayed she wouldn't turn him away this time. when he finished paying for his items, he looked out the large store windows and sighed deeply. he didn't bring an umbrella.

when he knocked on momo's front door, he expected her grandma to open up abruptly, but instead ken stood there for almost ten minutes. he tried to peer through any windows and see if there was anyone home, but the house was completely empty.

did her grandma finally get momo to leave the house? god, I hope so.

but as ken looked down, he noticed a flower pot that he didn't recognize. curious, the boy crouched down and picked it up. clanking against the concrete porch, fell a house key which had a little note attached to it.

hey four-eyes, unfortunately I had to make a quick trip out of town, but momo is still up in her room. counting on you, kid.

another big sigh blew past ken's lips, as he unlocked the door and let himself in.

he carefully took off his shoes, as if he really were sneaking into someone's home. maybe he just didn't want to frighten miss ayase. he stood there for a moment, staring at the stairs. momo's grandma wasn't there to ask her if it was okay that ken came upstairs and saw her. now, he could just go upstairs himself and open her door on his own. but was that okay? was it decent for a boy to just barge into a girl's room after she had been shunning him away for a week?

at this point, ken didn't care too much for decency. his care for momo overruled everything.

that's why he was at her bedroom door. he took a deep breath and pushed the door open, softly, so as to not frighten her.

her room was surprisingly clean and tidy. he assumed her grandma did that for her while she was sleeping. it was mainly her nightstand that was the mess. scattered books on yokai and aliens. a collection of empty soda cans and a few snack wrappers. a bottle of sleeping pills. and a tv remote. he glanced over to the television. there was an old sci-fi film playing, quietly, almost inaudible over the rain. ken sat down the damp, plastic bag of treats and took a moment, before making his way to the blanketed figure in bed. he stared at her, watching in relief as her figure rose and fell, snoring softly. he didn't really think she wouldn't be breathing, but there was a fear, way deep down. he reached out for her. should he say something? should he shake her awake or would that be too aggressive? unable to decide, he sat down on the empty space on her bed.

surprisingly, this woke momo up. her eyes opened, still groggy with sleep. she knew someone was in the room with her, sitting at the end of her bed. she also knew that if it was her grandma, she would have made herself known. anxiously, she tried to look around as much as possible without moving her body. in the reflection of her window, she saw the familiar back of her best friend. for a moment, she was so glad to see him. then, she was humiliated and petrified with fear.

"okarun..." she choked out, her throat dry from having just woken up. she felt the boy shoot up off of her bed, gasping in surprise.

"miss ayase! I apologize for letting myself in-- but i've just been so worried about you, I didn't know what else to do."

she grimaced. she hated herself even more for worrying him like this. "it's okay, okarun. um... could you just stand over there, and face the wall. I need to get up and i'm... not wearing any pants..."

the sound of ken slapping his hands over his eyes, followed by him scurrying to the corner brought momo a tiny bit of amusement.

slowly, she uncovered herself and rolled over. she sat up in bed, feet hovering over the floor. after a moment, she let her feet touch the cold floor. then she stood up. but in the same moment, she collapsed. the pain of hunger mixed with the weakness in her body from laying down for so long made her unable to stand. ken whipped around, completely disregarding momo's requests. he crouched down next to her, worry taking him over once more.

"miss ayase! are you alright? here, let me-"

she swatted his hand away, frustrated that he was seeing her so pathetic. "okarun! what did I say... stay over there!" she started to push herself up, but collapsed again. ken stared at her figure. she had lost weight and her skin was pale. her hair was dull and her whole body shook. he couldn't help himself. he scooped her up and carried her to her bathroom. he sat her on the floor, her back up against the shower door. momo grumbled, attempting to swat him away again but to no avail. she felt a cool, damp rag press against her forehead. a defeated sigh spilled past her lips.

ken started by brushing her hair. then he helped her brush her teeth. he rinsed off her face, resisting the urge to plant a kiss on her freshly cleaned forehead. he massaged her muscles, hoping her body would feel up to standing. sure enough, she did. he brought her a fresh change of clothes. she stood against the bathroom counter, staring at him as he walked over to her. he smiled at her.

"I'm glad you're feeling better..." he sat the clothes down next to her. momo just stared up at him. "do you want me to leave?"

momo blinked. "no! stay! i need to take a shower!" she blurted out. ken's face went red and he squeaked. momo shoved her face in her hands, covering her own flushed expression. "I mean-- stay in the house. I'll be back out in, like, ten minutes. I just need to clean up."

ken sighed and nodded. "in that case, is it okay if I wash your bed linens for you while I wait?"

it took over fiber of momo's being to not melt into a puddle of tears. she turned ken around, hiding her face again. "yes!" she yelped. "that's... real sweet of you okarun." she sniffled. "thank you..."

so, ken did just that. as soon as momo closed the bathroom door, he started stripping her bed. he carried the bed linens down stairs, careful not to trip. he took it up on himself to use the best-smelling laundry detergent they had, as well as a fabric softener. he wanted to completely clean this experience from momo's memory.

after a little while, momo slowly came downstairs, the view of ken sitting on the couch coming into her view. she smiled. ken turned to look her, then stood up.

"better?" he asked.

this time, momo couldn't hold back the tears. she stumbled over to him, toppling him back onto the couch. she gripped him tight, crying into his tee shirt. ken hugged her back, easing the both of them up into a sitting position. it was quiet for a moment, at least for ken. all momo could hear was his rapid heartbeat against her ear. she sniffled, looking up at ken with wet eyes.

"yea. I feel much better..." her eyes darted away from his. "but can I ask you for one more favor."

"anything, miss ayase." ken answered almost immediately, his eyes never leaving hers.

momo didn't say anything. she just looked back up at him, her face visibly warming up. ken bored his eyes into hers, heart beating faster. momo's heart was beating fast, too. her eyes flickered down to his lips and that was all it took.

ken pressed his lips against hers swiftly, but oh so softly. his brows furrowed and his hands seemed to melt into the small of her back. momo held the boy's face in her hands, screwing her eyes shut. he pulled her impossibly closer, letting out a sigh as momo made her way into his lap. her hands crept around to the nape of his neck, using her nails to softly scratch against the undercut she never admitted to adoring. another sign from ken.

then momo pulled away, planting kisses all over his face. ken leaned back, never letting her go.

"i love you, miss ayase." he breathed out, staring at the ceiling. the confession had his heart beating faster than he thought was humanly possible.

"yea... you, too." momo said simply. ken sat up to look at her. for some reason, he was surprised. she just scooted over, sitting on the couch, with her legs in his lap. she turned on the TV and started clicking through channels. "you in the mood for a sci-fi movie?" she asked.

"yea." ken answered, rubbing his thumb over her ankle.

"oh, and thank you... ken." momo said, not looking at him. a blush covered her fresh face.

"anything for you, miss ayase."

the low rumble of the washing machine seemed to wash the sound of rain away.

⍣ ೋ

[sprout-fics]

Silent Night

(Simon Ghost Riley x OC 'Fix')

Part of my Snowblind Series

Rating: General Wordcount: 2.3k Tags: Angst, Whump, Mutual Pining, Slowburn, Injuries, Hurt/Comfort, Mentions of Trauma Warnings: Descriptions of injuries A/N: In my head this oneshot takes place between Hellebore and Mayday Mayday, during Fix and Ghost's weird mutual longing era. Anyways, thanks for sticking with this story for another year!

Divider by @adornedwithlight

It shouldn’t come as a surprise that you and Ghost are the only ones on base during Christmas.

Normally you’d fly back to D.C. for the holidays and camp out at Laswell and Paula’s house in NoVA. Kate had made sure you knew you had a standing invite to visit any time. Yet this holiday Paula had convinced her wife to take a camper out west to some ski resort, taking Whiskey along as well. So Kate had sheepishly let you know that while you were free to house-sit, they would be indisposed. Rather than face the ghosts of your family and DC alone, you decided to stay on base in the UK.

The rest of the team left days ago, taking up their valuable holiday leave and traveling to their respective corners of the UK. Soap had eagerly chattered about visiting his sisters and seeing his nieces, nephews and Nan. It’s not often he gets to see them all at once, and you know he looks forward to wrestling with the ‘wee tykes’ and shooting the breeze with his brothers in law.

Gaz had sheepishly shared he too was visiting home- going to see his mom and sisters as well. Though less rowdy than Soap’s family gatherings, he made a face about being fussed over after not visiting home for so long. No doubt he’d be scolded for not calling home as often as he should and have his mom start asking pointed questions about finding a nice girl to settle down with.

Price hadn’t mentioned any family to you, and you hadn’t asked. Whether by omission or the fact that he didn’t have any to speak of, the matter seemed a tender point for him and you quieted any questions you thought to raise. He did, however, smile when talking about his nice cottage and warm fireplace, a glass of whiskey and the quality box of cigars Nikolai sent him every year for Christmas.

One by one they left, easing off into the gray winter. With them most of base trickled out as well, the younger soldiers whooping and hollering as they boarded the bus to the airport or had family pick them up at the gates. Eventually, as the snow fell and the days darkened further against the solstice, it was just you.

You...and your lieutenant who hasn’t left his room in three days.

Price had warned you before he left that the holidays were a hard time for Simon. Though he didn’t share details, the fact that Simon never mentioned any family was evidence enough that for Simon holidays were not the bright cheery festivities others were used to. Like you, Simon instead approached lonely carols and the solitary, starry nights with a sense of loss, of grief.

With a skeleton crew running base, you’re left largely to your own devices. The first day is fine. You spend valuable down time catching up on the pile of books you’ve accumulated, including some sent to you by Farah. You visit the gym, take a long hot shower, watch a cheesy Hallmark film in the rec room, eat dinner, and doze off for about ten hours straight.

By the end of the second day you start to feel restless. It used to be that you soaked up any down time you could, but after joining the task force and getting used to their rapid fire mission schedule, so much unstructured time only serves to itch under your skin with the need to move, to go. You try and burn it off with a few laps around base, but the quiet of the buildings only unsettles you.

Gaz and Soap don’t reply to your attempts to text them, too busy with their own holiday gatherings to entertain your need for socialization. In the evening you stare up at the ceiling of your room and think about knocking on Ghost’s door.

You text him, but he doesn’t reply.

You think about him as you lay awake in your bed, listening for the sound of his answer, only to be left in silence.

By the end of the third day you can’t stand it anymore.

In the evening you stand in front of Ghost’s door, hand raised to knock and your knuckles shy of the surface. You’re not even sure what your plan is, even if he does answer. You haven’t seen Ghost leave his room at all, and even the mess hall staff say they haven’t seen him. You’re worried about him, about if he’s eaten recently, if he’s rotting inside his room.

“Ghost?” You ask after minutes of silence standing before his door. “It’s me.”

Silence, and you wonder if he’s even in there at all.

“I just...” You try again, throat dry as moments pass with words unsaid. “...just wanted to make sure you’re okay.”

This time there’s a sound of slight movement inside, followed by the sound of something that sounds suspiciously like broken glass.

“Ghost?” You ask again, alarmed. “Is something broken? Are you okay?” and when he doesn’t reply you feel anxiety gnaw inside your chest. “Hey, Ghost, answer me-”

The sound of heavy, thudding footsteps reaches you before you can reel backwards, and the door swings open abruptly to reveal Ghost’s massive, dizzying figure looming out of the pitch black of his room.

“What.” He says flatly, anger scarcely hidden in his voice, one bare hand holding onto the door frame with a white-knuckle grip and eyes narrowed with a dangerous warning.

You swallow, taking a step back to view him fully, eyes raising from his feet to his masked face-

and settling on his bare, bloody knuckles.

“What-” You manage, brow furrowing. “What on earth did you do to your hand?!”

Ghost blinks, eyes softening as he raises his hand, as if noticing it for the first time. There’s glass shards embedded in his skin, and concern flutters brightly in your chest as he merely grunts.

“ ‘S fine.” He mutters before his dark eyes narrow in on you again. “What do you want.”

“It’s not fine.” You manage, grabbing for his hand to raise it up an examine it. You’re so worried you don’t even see the way Ghost flinches when you touch him. Blood streams between his fingers, cakey and dried, tiny fragments of glass sticking from his skin. You force yourself to swallow, thinking about how much it must hurt to be walking around like this.

“What did you do?” You ask him breathlessly, followed by: “Nevermind. Do you have a med kit in here? I can run to the infirmary and get one- though my room might be closer...”

You don’t see the way Ghost blinks at you, shoulders softening as he takes in your pinched, worried face.

“...I have one.” He mutters at last, turning into the darkness of his room with the door open, apparently for you to follow. You stand on the threshold hesitantly, blinking as you notice the lingering chill from Ghost’s frigid fingers. As you step forward darkness engulfs you, only a slant of light from the hallway to provide any illumination to the pitch black room.

Ghost’s room is cold, bare, and if you didn’t know better you would have assumed no one slept here. The only signs of life are the blankets on the bed haphazardly tossed from the thin mattress, and a phone charger plugged into the wall. The desk is empty, the dresser looks untouched, and even the closet is absent of any clothes that would hang there.

Your boot crunches something fragile, and you look down to see a tiny, glimmering shard of blood-stained glass. Crimson droplets lead to the bathroom, and when you glance inside you see the mirror.

Shattered.

Ghost rustles with something in the drawer of his desk, finally pulling out a med kit and depositing it beside you with a solid and pointed thunk. His dark eyes glimmer in the dimness of the room, unblinking. Waiting for you to speak.

When you meet his gaze, your chest aches.

You’re not sure what demons have been haunting him in this solitude- evil enough to make him violent and volatile enough to punch out the mirror. Sinister enough so that he hardly noticed the glass embedded in his knuckles. You know if you ask you risk Ghost forcing you out, locking himself away only so ghosts can torment him in the silence.

So you say nothing, eyes lowering away from his coal-dark gaze burning into your skull. Gingerly, you reach for the medkit and turn on the desk lamp to see what you’re doing. Ghost wordlessly settles on the edge of his bed- his entire frame one gigantic line of tension from his fingertips to his toes. He looks ready to bolt at a moment’s notice, fleeing and leaving you in the darkness. One hand clenches tightly on his knee, gaze watching you like a cornered, wild animal.

Ready to bite at the first touch of kindness, like he doesn’t know the meaning of the word.

You snap on gloves and disinfect the tweezers before dragging the desk chair before him and silently getting to work. Questions burn in your mind as you pick glass shards from Ghost’s knuckles, fueled only by his eerie silence and inhuman stillness. Each tiny fragment catches what little light there is, glimmering like yuletide stars amidst an endless expanse of midnight sky.

Secrets linger behind Ghost’s dark pupils- tales of death and destruction of something he once held dear. Smoke billows from his mouth, the fires of carnage burning bright in the empty cavern of his chest. The soot settles around his eyes, darkens his gaze in mystery and the promise of retribution if you come too close.

Like a moth to a flame, you want to set yourself on fire in his stare.

For you too are burning up from the inside out.

Ghost’s hand is frozen still inside your delicate hold, like a wild animal caught between the jaws of a trap. Eyes unblinking, promising to sink his teeth in you the moment you make a wrong move. It’s slow work tending to his hand, cleaning the glass and setting it aside. Fresh blood stains his knuckles but Ghost acts like he doesn’t even feel it.

Whatever demons haunt him must hurt tenfold.

Though you don’t yet know what they are, you know you can understand. The emptiness and longing, the pain of wishing things were different feels all the more acute during the darkest days of the year. Memories wash over you during moments like rogue waves, and you have to brace yourself against them lest they sweep you out to sea.

Truth be told, you’re not sure what’s worse- the fact that you have family that’s alive that you wish you didn’t have, or the fact that Simon has no family at all. In some ways, you’re almost jealous. Maybe, if things were different, you wouldn’t be so haunted by the things you used to love.

“Almost done.” You mutter quietly, reaching for the disinfectant to clean the shallow wounds on his knuckles, and Ghost doesn’t make a sound despite the sting.

You swallow thickly before trying in a quiet voice: “Why is Santa’s sack so big?”

Ghost blinks, as if startled from a reverie of destruction that plays out behind his eyes.

Trying to keep your voice even, you manage to catch his gaze with a half-hearted smile.

“Because he only comes once a year.”

Silence, and Ghost’s eyes flicker with something real for the first time, something that if you stare for too long, seems almost fond.

“...Not bad.” He offers at last, and you grin.

It doesn’t take long to clean the wound and bandage it. When you’re done Ghost flexes his hand and inspects your handiwork with a nod. Though he doesn’t say anything else, you can see the thanks in his eyes.

You could choose this moment to press him, ask him what made him act this way- what ghosts haunt him so. Yet you know patience is they key to taming wild things, so you retreat carefully, quietly to the door. It’s there that you linger, looking back to where Simon sits on the bed, unmoved. He’s a massive shadow amidst the darkness, a slant of light cast onto him where he sits slumped forward, cradling his injured hand and lost in thought.

Words escape you. There’s nothing to be said that feels right for this moment. No reassurances or apologies or offers of kindness seem to penetrate the grave soil Simon has pulled down on top of himself. With your shadow cast onto his form you pause, swallow before offering quietly:

“Merry Christmas, Simon.”

You close the door behind you, only so you can lean against it and lose yourself in thought as Simon sits silent in the darkness, staring down at his bandaged hand and thinking how warm your touch felt against his own.

Some day, when things are different, Simon will tell you of the things that happened long ago. He’ll talk about that day- about Tommy and Beth and Joseph. He’ll talk about how it’s been so long he can hardly remember the sight of his mother smiling at him, but he can still remember her voice. He’ll share how he still blames himself, how things should have been different. He’ll talk about the scars you can’t see and how he’s still so afraid to allow himself to be loved because he can’t stand the pain of loss once more.

Some day, you’ll hold him close to your chest as he shares all this and more, listening until he empties his chest of grief and you sit in the silence, allowing his wounds to close themselves over. You’ll hold him as he shudders but doesn’t cry, feeling his bones tremble with the weight of the life he’s lived.

Some day, you’ll find the strength to share your own scars, tell Simon of the loss you’ve felt, and the betrayal that came with.

Before then, you’ll bend your head and kiss him, and wait until you’ve both made yourselves whole again.

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