#i guess stubble-sexual?

[woodenisms]

“THIS WORLD? full of temptations. turns out I'm not that great at saying no. i'm not built that way.  ”

independent roleplay for august w. booth from abc's once upon a time

written by bex. originally established 2012, re-established 2024

[parkersbliss]

the 141 and their obsessed girlfriend

pairing: task force 141 (ghost, gaz, price, soap) x female reader 

synopsis: you love your boyfriend, maybe a little too much that some of the things you say are... concerning to say the least.

warnings: kind of gory for simon, sexual innuendo, death threat, reader is just unhinged and in love with her man fr

a/n: if you get it, you get it. these all may or may nOT be things I've said to my boyfriend to which he said I was "batshit crazy but in a sexy way"

Masterlist | Taglist | Prompt List

requests open for tf141!

—

Ghost:

You sigh, laying your head down on Simon’s chest. His reaction is instinctive, an arm wrapping around you and pulling you closer. You snuggle further into him, his warmth radiating onto your skin. A reminder to you of where your home truly was. 

You can hear his heartbeat in his chest, pumping at a steady pace. You count each thump, rhythmic and soft. Faintly, you hear the sound of air moving in and out of his lungs and the slight bubbling of his stomach from the food you had eaten earlier. 

Simon’s hand strokes your lower back, drawing circles as his eyes focus on the rugby match. He’s unaware of his actions, something he’s too used to when he lies with you. He likes feeling the warmth, the subtle pulse, and shivers. It’s a reminder that you’re real. 

You’re too lost in his heartbeat to hear the narration of the game. There was something so comforting to listen to him, affirming what you knew was true. Your boyfriend was alive, his heart circulating the blood through his body. You push yourself further into his chest, wanting to be closer. You couldn’t get any closer, you knew that, but you needed to be. There was some part of you that kept urging for it. 

“Simon,” You call out. 

He looks down at you. “Hm?”

You meet his eyes. “I want to cut through your skin, open your ribcage, and feel your heart.” You said it casually, not faltering and maintaining eye contact with him. You needed to crawl into his chest and live there, be one with him. Closer. 

Simon doesn’t flinch. He doesn’t even blink at your words. “I’d want nothing more than to have you cradle my heart in your hands.” 

You move to straddle him, resting your legs on either side of his hips and leaning your chin on his sternum so you can really look at him. “You don’t think I’m crazy?”

He scoffs. “Quite the opposite.”

“Even if I want to live inside your chest?”

“If I could make that happen, I would.” He runs a hand through your hair, tugging gently at the knots. 

You smile at him. “I’d let you live in mine and use my lungs as your personal trampoline.” 

Simon chuckles a beautiful sound to you and lets his hand rest on your hips. “I would be honored.” 

You trace patterns on his chest, huffing. “I just want to live in you.” 

“Unfortunately, you’ll just have to settle for my dick in you.”

You purse your lips from on top of him. “I guess that’ll do.”

Gaz:

You set your phone on the bedside table, lying on your side to look at your boyfriend. He was shirtless, with nothing but his briefs on in bed. Your eyes trace up and down him, taking in all the curves of his muscles and the lines of his abs to the slight stubble of a beard and the downward slope of his nose. God, he was so pretty. 

As if on cue, he turns to look at you. “What?” He murmurs in that voice of his. Kind, but a hint of grit to it. He made it so easy for your thoughts to run wild. You wanted to have his kids. See his eyes in them, the curve of his nose. Actually, scratch that you wanted—“I wanna get you pregnant,” You blurt out. 

Kyle laughs, loud. He isn’t sure he quite heard you correctly. He hopes he did, but then again, you did have a knack for breaking silence with something worth talking about. “What?” 

“I wanna get you pregnant,” You repeat. 

He stills, staring at you and how your face is unwavering. He’s not quite sure what to make of that sentence. He stares at you, your lips pursed in thought and eyes sparkling with a bit of mischief. “That’s simply not possible.” 

“I know,” You said. “But I just want to be able to like fuck you for once.” 

“Oh my god.” 

You shake your head, suddenly aware of how unhinged you sound. But that’s just what Kyle did to you. You were downright obsessed with him. Everything about him made your thoughts melt into a pile of mush and goo. One look at him had you practically reeling. You couldn’t fathom how he was real and yours, nonetheless. “Sorry! You’re just so fucking pretty and it’s like I need to bend you ov—,” 

“Babe,” He cuts you off. “Okay! I get it.” 

“No, but like—,"

He raises his brows at you. “It’s not biologically possible.” He restates, emphasizing that he was not letting that happen and neither was the world. Thank god, he thinks. 

You flop down onto your back on the bed with a groan. “So unfair. We should be like seahorses.” 

Kyle hums, choosing to humor you. “Uh-huh, sorry babe.” 

“I’m just so obsessed with you. I have so many feelings I just… I don’t know what to do with it.” 

Kyle’s hand traces up and down your arm. “Well, we could start with not getting me pregnant.” He moves to situate himself on top of you, pressing his nose into your neck. “But maybe there’s a compromise here, hm?” He kisses the soft skin, and once again, your brain melts into nothing. He was so good to you. He made it easy for you to forget everything in the world but his name on your tongue. So you couldn’t get him pregnant. There was a better idea ahead. 

“Sounds good to me.” 

Soap: 

You sat at the table next to Johnny, coffee in hand. You both sit in silence, observing the people passing by on the street. You make note of a man frantically texting on his phone, a little girl chasing after a bird, a couple clinging on to each other. 

People watching. A favorite pastime for the two of you. 

You watch as a girl walks by, her gaze lingering on your boyfriend a second longer than you’d like. Her eyes rake up and down his figure, and she pulls out her phone, no doubt texting someone. 

You turn to Johnny, who’s oblivious to it. “I’m going to fucking kill her.”

His head snaps towards you. “What, love?” 

“That girl,” You gesture with your head. “I’m going to kill her.” 

“Why?” 

“She looked at you.” 

Your boyfriend nearly spits out his coffee. “So you’re gonna kill her?” 

You glare at him. “That’s merciful.” 

“Oh really?” He jests you. 

You nod your head, setting down your coffee and pulling out your phone. “If I really wanted to fuck with her, then I could find her home address and slightly misplace all the objects in her flat and watch her go insane.”

Johnny stares at you, concern etched into his face. His eyes sweep your face for any ounce of joke, but he knows you’renot. He always wanted a possessive girlfriend. “You’re crazy.” 

“Crazy about you,” You correct. “If I ever see anyone look at you like that again, I’m going to call an airstrike on them.” 

He grabs your hands. “Love, you never have to worry about anyone else.”

“I don’t worry. They should worry. If they wanna stare, then they can stare at the ceiling before I gouge their eyes out.” 

Johnny sighs. He loves you, truly. But to say you weren’t sometimes a little unhinged was an understatement. You always had a jealous streak about you, it’s what initially drew him in. That fire he saw in your eyes, dangerous but beckoning him closer. The idea of a possessive girlfriend really did turn him on. It was just moments like these that he wished he could carry around a giant sign that said “Please don’t look at me unless you wanna die.” 

“You’re something else, you know?” He asked, running his thumb over your knuckles. 

You melt a little at the gesture, and he can see your shoulders relax. “You’re mine.” 

He presses a quick kiss to your lips. “True, and you never have to do that. So please stop threatening random people on the street in public.” 

You smile at him. He was so sweet. “You’ll never find a bitch crazier than me, baby.” 

“I never want to,” Johnny insists. “Though, you can show me crazy in a different way…” 

You can see his eyes sparkling with something and you bite your lip, grabbing his hands. “Let’s go home.” 

Price:

You’re sat next to Price on the couch. He’s got a hand slung over your shoulder, keeping you close as you lean your head into the crook of his neck. He was warm, a giant teddy bear covered in rippling muscles. His beard scratches the top of your head, but it’s not uncomfortable. In fact, you love the feeling of it when you’re kissing. The soft pinch of his hair against your face. 

But honestly, you loved everything about him. There wasn’t one thing about him you could dislike. Well, maybe that he was gone so long sometimes. In reality, it just made you want him more though. It created special moments like this, where you knew time was futile. 

You sigh, playing with the hairs of his beard. You feel like them against your fingertips, pinching and prodding. 

You gaze up at your husband, his blue eyes focused on the screen and dark lashes contrasting with his pale skin. 

“Honey,” You murmur.

He hums, looking down at you. “Yes?” 

You cock your head at him. “I want to take your beard hair and make it into matching sweaters for us.” 

Price, unfazed by most things, is fazed by this. He could take a bullet, and wouldn’t flinch at a grenade or a gun pointed at his face. But that. 

That was a sentence he wasn’t sure how to unpack. 

“What?” He asked. 

You giggle a little. “You know, the clippings in the bathroom. What if I started collecting them to make a sweater?” 

Price nods, humoring you. “Darling, please don’t do that.” 

“Why not?” You pout, sticking out your bottom limit. 

“That would be itchy,” He insists. “My beard is already itchy enough. You don’t want to wear it too.” 

You don’t, he’s right. You just wanted to say something to see his face contort. He was so comfortable around you that it made it easy to catch him off guard. And really, a part of you was that obsessed with him. 

“Fair point, I suppose,” You concede. 

He’s surprised you surrender so easily. “You don’t already have a collection going, do you?” 

You laugh, patting his chest. “Wouldn’t you like to know?” 

He pauses. “No, I would not.” You snuggle closer to him, going back to playing with his beard. His arm drops to your waist, giving it a squeeze. “You’re insane, my dear.” 

You grin up at him, planting a kiss on his lips. “In more ways than one.” 

Price kisses you back, sneaking his hands under your shirt and higher. “Amen.” 

He was never religious, but that man did get on his knees for you.

-- END --

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[billthedrake]

GRANDDADDY ISSUES

I tried not to seem too eager, waiting in the living room. The Christmas tree was still up and various cookies and candy still out. Mom always went all out for the holidays, even if it was just the two of us.

Thing was, my mother was happy I was close to her father. Always had been and even more so since her divorce. Granddad Paul didn't live super close, but he made an effort to come visit at least once a month. Catching my lacrosse games, being there for my birthday each year, and just completing out the rump family Mom and I had. As a single mother, she held it together, props to her, but Granddad made it feel like a family.

Summers I'd spend a month with the man. He was a high school history teacher and football coach, and had down time to spend with me. I was 16 before I realized his appointed, or self-appointed role, was to be the father figure in my life. Teaching me guy stuff, man stuff. Fishing, camping, home repairs. Birds and the bees. Guy talk.

Of course Mom would freak out, and more, if she new Granddad Paul and I had fooled around the summer after high school. Testing the waters, then diving in. I thought I was confused sexually, but when Granddad went down on me, and sucked a healthy load from my 18 year old jock balls, I knew I wasn't confused one bit. I learned how to return the favor.

I heard him pull up, an old but reliable pick up truck. I looked out the window to watch him get out.

Granddad was the perfect man in my book. 5'10 and barrel chested, walking slightly bow legged like an overgrown jock, he strode up to the door, hands in his jeans pocket. He had on only jeans and gray sweatshirt emblazoned with the high school he'd coached at. He'd let his normal short hair cut grow out to a medium length, almost shaggy and fully gray.

"Killer!" he beamed when I opened the door. I could see the silvery stubble on his chin and smell his aftershave as he pulled me into a tight hug. I now knew how to return the bear clasp myself, patting Granddad's meaty back and feeling his cool cheek next to mine before we pulled back, matching smiles on our faces. Yeah, Granddad missed me, too. He gave a wink and patted my upper arm.

"Merry Christmas, Dad!" I heard my mom behind me. My cue to step aside.

"Linda!" Granddad said. "Merry Christmas." He greeted my mother with a gentler hug. "You're looking great," he said.

My mom had been taking care of herself lately. She had a new boyfriend, Gary, who'd come over for Christmas dinner. I suspected they were more serious than Mom let on, but she didn't want to push things too fast with me. Not that I cared.

For his part, Granddad always had Christmas dinner with my uncle and his family, who lived closer to him. So the day after was Christmas part two for us. Presents and an afternoon light dinner before I threw a couple of bags in the cab of his truck for the hour ride.

It was great this year. Mom was in a great mood, between the boyfriend, her recent promotion at work and my return from college. I did my best to help in the kitchen so should could have time with Granddad.

I'd bought Granddad a new electric shaver Mom said he wanted. The irony was clear to me when he opened it, his scruff fully evident. He even made a joke about it. "Guess it is time to get more presentable," he said.

He got Mom a gift card for the local department store. "You know I can't pick out what you want, Linda," he apologized.

"I'll make good use of it," she assured him, getting out of her chair to give him an affectionate hug.

I was blown away when I opened the small box for my present. There were two tickets to the upcoming Panthers game.

"Jesus, Granddad," I let out, then checked myself. Mom didn't like me to swear, though I didn't do any outright cussing.

He looked like he couldn't wait to read my reaction. "They're as much for me as for you, even if the Panthers aren't doing so hot this season," he said. "I figured it would give us something to do this week."

It was a week and a half I'd spend with the man, but who was counting?

We ended up hitting the road by mid afternoon. Granddad wanted to get us back before nighttime. On the ride it was a lot of catching up. Mostly me giving a monologue about my first freshman semester, what classes I was taking, and what I'd signed up for in Spring.

I could tell something was on Granddad Paul's mind. "You, um, talk to your dad, Drew?" he asked.

I nodded. "Yes, sir. we talked a little yesterday," I said in a flat tone. I didn't get along with my father. He was pretty absent and I had a lot of resentment.

Granddad looked over with a deep emotion and reached over to massage the back of my neck. It was affectionate and perfect. "I know it's tough, kiddo." Pulling his eyes back to the road he kept his hand there. The touch was getting me hard.

And as I looked over, taking in his weathered face and deepening wrinkles that framed his ruddy cheeks and roman nose, I was getting turned on for real now. I was wired for men, older men. Old men, really, though I was a low-key resentful that none of the men in the "mature" porn matched Granddad's hotness. He was well-preserved and yet clearly in his 60s. That combination was electric to me.

The man seemed to read my mind. "You know, Drew, we don't have to do anything this week. Anything you don't wanna."

I nodded. But my tone was upbeat, eager. "I wanna Granddad," I assured him. "It's kind of all Ive been thinking about the last few months."

"Is that right?" he chuckled. I felt his fingers tease the hair on the nape of my neck. "I figured Killer Stenson would have some fun to keep him occupied in college." Stenson was my Dad's last name, and mine too.

I spread my legs. I was officially bricked now. If Granddad had said HE didn't want to fool around, I didn't know what I would have done. I would have respected his wishes, and yet...

"No, sir. I guess I'm not wired for college guys, really," I said. It was a big admission, and one I'd rehearsed in my head for several weeks now. Turns out, Granddad Paul made me feel comfortable. It was all coming out easily now.

"And college girls?" he prompted.

"Not wired for girls at all, actually."

He nodded, taking it in. "You told your mother?"

I shook my head. "No, sir," I replied. "I haven't told anyone. Other than you."

"Well, it's no one's damn business if you don't want it to be."

We were getting close to Granddad's place and soon he removed his hand as he turned into the gravel driveway. He was a widower and when he'd retired, he'd bought a mountain cabin. We pulled up, and I got one bag, and Granddad the other. As we entered, I was reminded of the distinctly masculine space of the place. Wood paneling and woody-smoky scent from the fireplace. Framed photos of mountains and nature, a signed football jersey framed behind glass, and not much else for decoration.

Granddad could get in no-nonsense mode and already he was leading me back to the second bedroom, which was the guest room when I visited. "Everything is here for you, Drew," he said, setting down my bag.

I gave a quick look in. Basic bed with wool blanket rather than a duvet or comforter. I wanted to respect Granddad's space, but I had to take a chance.

"I was kinda hoping I could be in the master bedroom," I said, nervously looking into the man's blue eyes.

That caught him by surprise. We'd fooled around the previous summer, a lot actually, but it had felt very exploratory, a naughty new game for both of us. Maybe this was my way of ratcheting that game up. But I'd had almost four long months to imagine this visit.

Granddad was caught by surprise. "For real, Killer?" he asked, in that "are you sure?" tone. Then giving me a wink, he added, "I snore, you know."

"I don't give a fuck, Granddad," I said, emboldened by the fact he hadn't said no.

There was a look of lust on that handsome face of his, and Granddad closed the distance between us. I felt his breath and then the scruff of his stubble before our lips touched. A gentle peck, then I opened my mouth. Granddad has a thick tongue and I could feel it snake in between my lips.

Oh fuck, we were making out, and this felt different than before. Granddad pulling my body into his and me feeling up that strong body through his sweatshirt.

"Easy, Killer," he finally mumbled into my lips. "Soft kissin can be kind of hot, too."

And then Granddad showed me a new speed, a new technique. He was right, this was incredible, and amazingly the gentler approach was fueling my boner just as much.

I did grunt, though, as I felt Granddad's paw grip my crotch.

He had a big smile as he pulled back. "Let's take this to my bed, young man."

We made our way to the master bedroom and quickly stripped down. I loved how Granddad's eyes were on me the whole time. "You packed on some more muscle at school, stud?" he asked.

I nodded. "Yes, sir. Been hitting the weights hard," I added. I wasn't playing lacrosse at college, but I wanted to maintain and develop my jock body.

His eyes swept up and down my near nakedness. Appreciative, even as he got his lecturing tone. That Coach tone. "I hope you're doing it for yourself, Drew," he said. "Not for anyone else."

"I am, Granddad," I said with a slightly annoyed tone. Maybe he was right that my body issues and insecurities were driving my obsession with lifting and putting on muscle.

"Well, you're the kind of stud who makes me thankful I'm a man."

Then I watched Granddad slip off his underwear, showing off that full magnificent 65 year old body. Muscular but with some loose sag to the beef, that build was covered in a thick silvery fur trimmed evenly, at least until the darker bush, where gray pubic hairs grew longer and stray next to the brown ones. Granddad Paul's cock was just shy of 6 inches and cut and pretty thick, especially at the base. He'd confided to me that he took pills for a mild case of ED, and maybe he'd taken one that day, because his prick was sticking up hard.

"I'm thankful you're a man, too, Granddad," I joked, even as I slid off my boxers and showed my grandfather my erect dong. I wasn't as thick as him, but I had a good inch and a half in length on him.

"Goddamn," he hissed. I loved how the man let loose with the swearing when it was just us. Especially at times like this. He stepped up and reached down to gently stroke my hardon from base to tip. "OK if I suck this, Drew?"

I didn't know why he was being so coy, but then I realized he'd had four long months to imagine us having sex again. Anticipating. Not knowing where we'd pick off, or even if we would.

"Um, yeah, Granddad."

He looked up from my dick. "You know, my name is Paul."

"I know," I said. It felt weird being on a first name basis. The tone in my voice suggested I never would be.

That got a chuckle out of him. He hadn't let go of my cock, instead he slowly stroked it. Without lube it felt more of a tease motion rather than a jacking off pleasure. I loved it. "If you're game, there's some stuff I want to try this week," he said. A little nervousness was behind his mature experience.

"Yeah?" I asked excitedly. I reached forward to feel up his torso, feeling the thickness of his aged muscle.

He nodded. "You tried fucking yet, Killer?" he asked with a grin.

"No, sir," I said. "Been thinking about it, though. A lot."

That brought a smile to his face. "Your mother would kill me," he said.

"She's not gonna find out, sir," I assured him.

Granddad released my dick and then crouched down in front of me, His strong hands ran up and down my outer quads as he stared at my dick. "We're gonna have a lot of fun this week, aren't we, Killer?" he breathed.

"Yes, Granddad," I answered.

He leaned in some and skinned back my foreskin. "You know I'm not a big fan of your father, but I'll give him credit for leaving your skin intact."

I felt his tongue taste the tip then watched him open up and take me in. I still got a thrill from seeing this masculine man being so enthusiastic sucking dick. He didn't got slow either. Taking just a second to get used to me and my size, he began working me up and down with long steady mouth strokes. Twisting his head slightly and giving a gentle tug of my balls.

"Granddad!" I urged. My lock was loaded and my sexual response was far more primed than I expected. If Granddad kept it up, I wouldn't last long. I even gave a half hearted attempt to push his shoulders back, but he kept on me. I looked down on his almost entirely gray hair and his mature body. He was bobbing faster now, and sucking more fervently. "FUCK!" I gasped.

I heard the man choked down my heavy load in successive swallows. His moans around my spurting prick were deep and appreciative as he rode out my orgasm with his slowed down sucking.

"Goddamn, buddy," he finally said as he pulled back and wiped his chin. "That's one helluva load. Please tell me you have more in the tanks for later."

"Probably," I laughed, enjoying the way my dick stayed rigid after cumming so hard.

He took his time standing up. "Think I can feel you up for a bit?" he asked. Already he was climbing on to the bed and scooting over to the other side to pull out some lube.

I wasn't sure what he was wanting but I got in bed, too. He squirted a good deal of lube on his dick and started stroking before turning back to me. His free hand ran along my bare torso.

"You got a beautiful body, Killer," he said, openly massaging my chest and abs. I wasn't completely smooth but compared to him I was.

"Thank, Granddad," I said. "I love yours, too." I reached out and began to touch his furry chest.

"I'm old," he said with a laugh.

I looked into his eyes. "Don't take this the wrong way, Granddad, but I like em old."

"You into the daddies, Killer?" Granddad smiled.

"Older, even," I admitted. "A man has to be 60 before I notice him. I'm kind of messed up."

"Hardly, stud," he said. He took his hand and moved to touch and caress my chin. "I got a good bud like you."

I tried to pick up on the implications of what he was saying. Put two and two together. "A boyfriend?" I knew Granddad had gone mostly for men after Grandma died. Said he didn't think he was up for another traditional relationship and that there was too much lost time to make up.

"No," the man replied. "Just a deep friendship. He's married now, but craves a little coach time, you know?" I could tell he was hesitant to tell me about this.

"A former player?" I asked.

"That stays between you and me, Killer."

"Yes, sir." I ran my hand down, past his moving fist, to cup his balls. "I'm just glad you got someone looking after you, Granddad."

"Oh kiddo," he breathed, closing in the gap for another kiss. This was less soft than before but it was amazing. Real heavy making out as Granddad moved back to feeling my body as he jerked off. He had a slower sexual response but it didn't take him long. He pawed at my chest more aggressively as I felt the tension rise and release in his body. He grunted into my mouth and I felt his hot cum splash on my belly.

We embraced and held each other after our orgasms, making out some but also just feeling each other's bodies.

"So... the older man thing," Granddad said, breaking the silence. "How much of that is me?"

He asked the thing that had been on my mind. "Some of it. But I think if we hadn't fooled around, I would have found someone who reminded me of you."

That got a soft grunt from the man. I knew the words hit him in an emotional and sexual place. "Is that what we're doing, Killer? Just fooling around?" There was an edge to his voice, teasing yet sexual.

"Oh god, Granddad," I hissed. "I've been trying not to get ahead of myself."

He gave me a thoughtful look, his blue eyes set off by his gray hair and weathered face. "Well, we got all week to figure things out."

"Week and a half," I corrected.

Granddad smiled. "You serious about what I said earlier? About trying more?"

I felt his strong biceps, pumped beneath the looser skin. "I'm not very experienced, sir. But I wanna be. I want you to be the one to show me."

We kissed, soft again, super slow. I was hard but not eager to cum again, just enjoying the proximity to him. I could feel Granddad's cock plump out, too. It was dark out, pitch black dark, and we had only the light of the bedlamp. I had no idea what time it was, but my stomach rumbled.

That got his attention. He pulled back and looked me up and down. I had the feeling I was his Christmas present, more than the electric razor. "Let's get some food in you, buddy. And we can take our time with the rest, OK?"

I got up. Granddad handed me one of his T-shirts and a spare pair of sweats. I loved wearing his clothes, and I loved that he trusted me to start a fire in the fireplace while he made us some burgers. Granddad is particular about the fireplace being set up and lit the proper way.

Even if the meal was casual, washed down with cans of cold lager, it felt like the most special date night I could imagine.

Maybe I was a little too silent as I ate. Even when I was done, I sipped my beer and looked at Granddad Paul's handsomeness and felt like the luckiest man.

"What are you thinking, Drew?" he asked softly.

I blushed. "Just crushing out on you a little, sir. Sorry."

He shook his head. "Don't be sorry. I'm crushing out on you, too, buddy. More than a little."

I felt flush hot with desire and emotion now. I threw hard, I couldn't help. Granddad noticed and chuckled. "Just be patient with me, Killer, I'm an old man and don't have the sex drive I once did."

My turn to laugh. "You do just fine, sir." This time I took the initiative, setting down my beer and moving over to kiss him.

I lost track of time again. Both of us did. I never fished my beer. I was tired enough anyway, when Granddad wordlessly led me back to his bedroom. Our bedroom for the week. No more sex that night, just spoon naked against one another. But Grandad Paul was right: we had all the time we wanted to take together.

[christinarowie332]

these people are naughty….

matt and chris sturniolo discover tumblr …..

chris sturn x reader oneshot imagine

warnings : sexual conversations

if y’all see your fic names do a little dance

this was written out of pure boredom

———-

“im home!!!” my voice rang through the triplets living room as i walk into their house , closing the door behind me and walking towards the kitchen. it’s there i see matt’s face , and the back of my boyfriend’s head .

“hi y/n” matt says with a smile that reaches his eyes , squinting them slightly while laughing.

“hello matthew, what’s so funny?” i ask walking over to chris who still hasn’t even acknowledged my presence, but that changes as i reach his shoulders and place my hands on them , his head falls back and looks at me upside down . i lean forward and kiss his forehead, pulling away seeing a big goofy smile from him and him greeting me finally “hi mama” before he looks forward again .

“me and chris were just scrolling through some anonymous confessions on that tiktok account” matt reply’s before bringing his bottle of water to his lips and taking a sip , scrolling down on his phone screen making another confession show up causing him to laugh again.

i put my hands through chris’s hair from behind him , his eyes shutting and leaning his head back at my touch . “where’s nick?” i ask , noticing the absence, looking round thinking i maybe missed him on the sofa .

“he’s upstairs editing i think , should be down in a sec , how was work?” chris says while looking up at me through his eyebrows, his head fully tipped back making his adam apple stick out from his neck . “work was good , i mean i didn’t stop all day and i’m tired as fuck but like , i like the chaos” i reply while walking towards the fridge backwards , watching chris watch me as i move . “you have to like the chaos to be with that kid” matt says , his eyes still glued to his phone as he scrolls through the account . “these people are actually insane bro have u seen this account?” he continues, turning around in his chair to show me the confession . i squint my eyes slightly and grab his hand to steady the phone infront of me , the confession read ‘this might be wierd but do you think chris has a mommy kink …. i mean kid SCREAMS it but idk i might just be reading too much into it’

i laugh at the words and read them out loud to chris , making his mouth drop in shock as he attempts to grab the phone from matt . “the only crazy part about that is that it’s true” i say making chris get up from his seat and try to run towards me , i close the fridge quickly and attempt to run away from him. i fail . i erupt into giggles as his arms wrap around me , lifting my slightly. his head makes his way into the crook of my neck , rubbing his slight stubble into the skin making me laugh and squirm away from him . “i do not have a fucking mommy kink!” he exclaims as he puts me down , flicking his hair out of his face with his hands and walking towards the fridge .

“hmmm i don’t knowwww , u did call her mama when she got here” matt says , his lips falling into a line as he looks around with his eyes dramatically.

“that’s not a fucking ‘kink’ you weirdo , it’s just a name , it’s just a joke …..” he replies to his brother , sitting back in his seat at the table , a light blush coating his cheeks .

“whatever dude , i don’t need to know either way . the comments are even crazier , half of them are calling the anon a weirdo and the other half are all saying it’s me with the mommy kink ….. WAIT WHAT DID I DO?!?” matt says before frantically scrolling through the comments now . “what the fuck is ‘tumblr’ ?”

my head snaps towards matt . knowing full well what that app is from my highschool days . “hold on …there’s a sturniolo side to tumblr ?”. i ask walking towards him , pulling out the chair next too matt and moving it towards him .

“i guess , wait do u know ‘tumblr?’” he asks turning towards me , i keep my eyes on his phone and scroll down on the screen watching a few people talk about different things but most was all talking about ‘fics’ .

“yeah dude it’s like wattpad but on crack . like fully sex fan fictions bro . that’s crazy” i say , dragging the ‘crazy’ and laughing under my breath . “wait lemme download the app real quick” matt says while grabbing the pepsi from my hand to give to chris .

i take a seat next to chris , pushing it closer to lie shoulder to shoulder with him , watching his phone screen as he scrolls through tiktok laughing at videos together . after a while matt speaks up telling us he had made an account on tumblr .

“bro the top posts for sturniolos are literally just sex story’s , they got that one right .” he spins his phone around and shows us the top story being about his being good at giving head , me and chris roll our eyes before chris grabs his phone to scroll through it with me . his thumb moves down the phone screen . us both reading the titles of each fic , “too damn long ? oh you haven’t jerked off apparently baby . sit on my fucking face , first time , no nut november, eyes up , taking of the virginity… WOW CHRIS YOUR A FREAK IN THIS ONE-” i list out the names before chris puts a hand over my mouth causing me to giggle into his soft skin .

“wait till they find out i’ve never even held hands with a woman” matt says , grabbing his phone from his brothers hand whilst he is distracted looking at me . making both me and chris turn the look at him stupidly , the very obvious fact that he indeed in a man whore . “bro you literally just called yourself a munch” chris says to matt , moving his hand from my mouth and opening his own phone to text nick about the new app they discovered .

“you guys like have to react to these in a video , this is like insane” i say to chris through laughs.

“im pretty sure the only app we could upload that video to would be only fans , these people are naughty”

—————

i laugh and giggle funny ha ha .

taglist :

@mangosrar @soursturniolo @biimpanicking @querenciasturniolo @ermdontmindthisaccount @recklesssturniolo @tackycrown @udonotknowme @urmyslxt @iheart2021chris @its-jennarose @oversturn @paper-crab @strniohoeee @slut4chr1s @daddyslilchickenfingers @freshlovehacker @flowerxbunnie @kenzieiskoolaid @kvtie444 @loveesiren @lustfulslxt @lunarsturniolo @lovingsturniolo @chrisenthusiast @bluesturniolo333 @nickenthusiast @mattslolita @mattsbratt @chrisolivia4l @fredswh0re @rac00ns-are-c00l4

[jollyhunter]

24 Kinky Days with Dean x reader - Day 3.

⚝‿︵‿୨♡ ⚝ ♡୧‿︵‿⚝

Pairing: Dean Winchester x fem!reader

Warnings: NSFW - MDNI! - includes explicit sexual content and mention of sex toy. It's a kinky writing challenge, so expect anything at this point, (nothing freaky, don't worry) but it's a surprise calendar so I won't spoil it! (Also, English is not my native language) Contains brief reference to Dec.1 (Sunshine)

Advent calendar includes: headcanons, snippets, one shots, imagines, blurbs etc.

Words: 900 (blurb and bullet points and a bittersweet-wholesome ending scene)

⚝‿︵‿୨♡ ⚝ ♡୧‿︵‿⚝

A/N: Woop I'm early today! Happy 3rd Advent sweeties! If you want to be tagged for the next parts, just let me know. And tell me what you think! Now enjoy! 🦊

⚝‿︵‿୨♡ ⚝ ♡୧‿︵‿⚝

3rd Dec. - Lights Out

It’s the 3rd December, Dean’s coming back from a repairing session on Baby just to find the light switch of his bunker’s bedroom not working.

“Close the door,” You command in an unusual voice of authority.

Dean’s skeptical at first, the thought of not seeing you is one thing but you know him better than that; what really makes him nervous is the fact that he’ll have no control like this - and that’s exactly your goal.

After a sultry “Come on Dean, today’s my turn to surprise you...” he finally closes the door behind him, plunging the room into complete darkness, “Babe, it’s totally dark in here, I can’t see shit…” he chuckles in mock-annoyance.

“Yeh, that’s the point of the game.” You reply with a mischievous smile on your face, “This’ll make things more interesting again.”

Now that you’ve got Dean’s attention, the thought of not being able to see at all is suddenly strangely arousing to him and he licks his lips before he replies with a warning, “Watch out you little minx, I’m gonna getcha.”

You feel excited and tingling from the lack of visual; the unpredictability and how your senses are heightened.

The sound of your or Dean’s breathing in the silence is the only help in trying to pin-point the others location

The deep and raspy voice of Dean makes you shiver as you try to guess his whereabouts

When he stands close to you, you can feel the heat of his body in the darkness

You feel the air shifting and his presence near you, the slightest change in breath or movement of him feels much more intense than usual

You can hear your own heartbeat increase, hammering in your ears

With your sense of smell heightened, his scent is almost intoxicating

You smell all the different scents that cling to him; worn leather, a hint of whiskey, a faint aroma of musk and sweat, a lingering trace of the cheap motel shampoo from the other day and a mix of motor oil from Baby, gunpowder and rock-salt.

Even though Dean knows your body like the back of his hand by now, he explores your skin with a newfound excitement now that he’s completely reliant on his other senses

You feel Dean’s calloused fingers run over your body, tracing your skin over every inch, slow and deliberate as if he was to map out the smallest detail

The first touch of his fingertips on you leave a trail of goosebumps on your entire body

You’re so hyperaware that every touch to your skin feels like a spark

You feel Dean’s stubbles graze the inside of your thighs, slowly moving upwards

Coordination is a real challenge without seeing anything and you soon find out the hard way that you need to take it slow or one of you will definitely end up knocked out

Dean accidentally knocks his knee into your ribs and you tumble over the edge of the bed with a loud groan as you both hit the ground and he lands on top of you

Dean grunts in pain as you in return give him a blow to the jaw when you jolt your head back - but despite the pain he chuckles in a little strained voice, still amused, “Careful, baby… I need my pretty face for hunting.”

“You wearin’ your pretty little gift, sunshine?” (Are you?) “Ya know, chances are, I’ll end up picking the wrong hole in this darkness,” he jokes huskily, his hands gripping and squeezing your hips as he grinds against you from behind

Every sensation feels like a surprise and ten times more intense as you rub against each other

Dean’s pleading for more as he can’t anticipate any of your next moves and only feels your hot breath on his thighs and cock

Dean moans as loud as ever when your lips just as much as graze the tip of his cock

Dean pulls you back by the foot as you try to hide from him

Dean pins your wrists or ankles down, in a desperate attempt to keep some form of control

Dean’s surprisingly sensual and slow going as he pounds into you, both of his hands constantly running up and down your sides

Dean teases you by stopping mid-motion once every thrust, enjoying the small whimpers of you as you can’t anticipate his next harder thrust that makes you whine and tremble

Meanwhile he maps out your body with wet kisses and tongue swipes while he listens to your smallest change of breath and increasing moans

Time seems to stand still as you both fall over the edge with the most intense orgasm you’ve ever had

The experience leaves both of you dizzy, exhausted and panting as you crawl on top of Dean to rest your head on his chest, his heart beating against your ear.

Snuggled up to his chest, Dean thinks you’ve finally fallen asleep. He strokes your hair gingerly, his chin resting on your head when his features grow pensive and he murmurs against your hair, “Ya know…I’m attracted to you like a moth to light. I’ve always been. That’s why I believe we’ll always find back to each other, even in the darkest times… My own little sunshine.”

⚝‿︵‿୨♡ ⚝ ♡୧‿︵‿⚝

Masterlist of opened windows:

1st Dec. - Sunshine 2nd Dec. - Spell Book 3rd Dec. - Lights Out 4th Dec. - Tickle 5th Dec. - Dirty UNO 6th Dec. - (TBA) 7th Dec. - Candlelight 8th Dec. - Hex Play 9th Dec. - Whip Stroke

⚝‿︵‿୨♡ ⚝ ♡୧‿︵‿⚝

Tags:

@deaniemyboo @deansjacket @literallylexa

[crumbledcastle28]

Din Djarin: Creaky

Pairing: Din Djarin x reader (no use of pronouns or y/n)

Summary: You give Din his first kiss.

The air filled with what sounded like the hissing of steam, but you knew it was not. You felt the weight of the helmet dip into the bed near your still locked hands.

You exhaled shakily. “Okay?”

Din’s raw, unfiltered voice hit your ears for the first time. “Okay.”

Warnings: talkative, nervous reader, kissing, sensuality but nothing overtly sexual, Din's mouth doesn't talk much, but his body sure does.

Word Count: 1.3k

A/N: I guess my role on tumblr is to disappear until dincember. For the second year in a row, this is dedicated to @dindjarindiaries and their incredible dincember works.

If you would like to leave a like, comment, ask, reblog, or comment, it would be much appreciated <3

Din Works (and some more Pedro characters as well if you're interested)

My Masterlist

“This is…actually better than I expected.”

There was a chuckle from Din’s modulator as you jostled yourself up and down on his cot. He shut the door to his cabin which, given the Crest’s size, was not the word you would use to describe the small bedroom.

“Much more bouncy.”

You were filling the air with words that meant nothing. But that really wasn’t their purpose, was it? To mean anything?

No. They were meant to cut through the wool-thick ineptitude that both you and Din had in this moment. More so you, if you were being perfectly honest.

“You’re telling me you’ve never kissed anyone? Ever?”

Silence. “Never.”

“Why not?”

“Haven’t found a person I trust enough.”

“Do you trust me?”

You didn’t think he would actually say yes.

“A little creaky,” you continued on, “but, eh, it’s better than sleeping on the floor. I still don’t think I needed that new mattress before you did, though. Can’t believe you used all the credits from your last job for that. I mean, we have a baby alien with a rag for clothing. You don’t think there could have been better uses –”

Din sat next to you and placed a palm onto your hand.

“This becomes you.”

“Well I don’t know. Din,” you said, frustrated. “I’ve never…been someone’s first kiss. Well, maybe I have, but I didn’t know it. It isn’t really something one plans out like this –”

He squeezed onto the hand he held. You fluttered your eyes shut.

“Sorry,” you said with a laugh. “Sorry. I really shouldn’t be the nervous one here. Not that you should be nervous – you really shouldn’t – it’s easy! It’s, I guess, natural? Like – your body kind of figures out what to do once you – well, once you –”

The room being shed of any semblance of light was Din’s answer. You sighed.

“Sorry.”

He made no response.

“Since when did you install a remote into your armor for the lights in this room specifically?”

The air filled with what sounded like the hissing of steam, but you knew it was not. You felt the weight of the helmet dip into the bed near your still locked hands.

You exhaled shakily. “Okay?”

Din’s raw, unfiltered voice hit your ears for the first time. “Okay.”

You scooted closer to him, feeling the heat from his body already. He had been wearing no armor besides the helmet, left only in a thin undershirt and pants. You were careful with how close you moved – you had no idea where his face was in relation to yours, and bumping chins or foreheads or noses at that moment would have been simply…

the worst.

“Okay,” you whispered. He smelled really, really good up close. “I’m – I’m going to touch your face. Okay?”

“Okay.”

Was that a quiver you detected in his voice?

 He had a beard – not too long, but not stubble either. Thick and…trimmed. It would only make sense. He never spent long in the bathroom. You worked your hands up his soft skin. Into silky, moused hair. You weaved it through your fingertips, drifting forward in your pursuit to memorize the waves’ lenity –

Which led you to, in fact, bump noses.

“Sorry,” you whispered. “I didn’t mean to…”

You inhaled through your nose, stopping yourself. You then placed your hands on his cheeks, using your left thumb to search for his lips. You found them already parted, exhaling deep, hot puffs of air.

“I’m…” you licked your lips, edging closer so cautiously the back of your neck began to ache. “Okay?” you whispered.

Din’s reply was a nod of his head. You felt the motion through the brush of his nose against the crevice between your own nose and cheek.

“Okay,” you replied, so quiet you didn’t even know if you said it aloud.

You moved forward and slotted your lips over his for barely two seconds. You pulled away.

It was too quick. You didn’t get to know if his lips were as soft and pillowed as you imagined them to be. You wanted to know if you were right. You wanted more.

“Okay?” you said.

Din sounded…breathless in his reply. Husky and deep. “Okay.”

You leaned in again. Pressed your lips over his. Moved them slightly.

You smiled against his mouth. You were right.

You kept up that motion for about thirty seconds – kissing either the bottom or top of Din’s soft, pillowed lips, feeling as he almost immediately understood the motion of it. The rhythm. The tenacity. He was so gentle with it – hesitant. You tried to propel him with your mouth – pull it ever so closer to yours by his cheeks. You pulled away with another smile.

“See? I told you it was easy.”

You could hear his breaths now. You waited for him to say something. Anything.

Maker, were you bad?

“Okay,” you said, dropping your hands from his cheeks, “well… you have officially been kissed, Din Djarin. If you need to take a walk. Take a shower. Go off to an abandoned planet and think about this experience, don’t worry, that’s totally nor –”

He surged you forward by the back of your neck like he needed you to breathe.

Once your brain allowed you to process the fever in which he was pressing his lips against yours, you reciprocated like you needed him the same.

His fingers gathered into your hair, into your scalp, and yours did the same to his.

He was not hesitant now – he was in. Pushing against your mouth like he had been doing this for years.

You had a feeling he would be a fast learner.

You drifted your hands down to his chest, running them up and down from his stomach back up to his throat. His seemed perfectly happy where they were.

You could have boiled alive in his lips kissing the bottom and top of yours as much as he possibly could, but you wanted.

Oh you wanted.

You slipped your tongue between the seam of his lips – barely an inch between them – and he opened for you like clouds open for rain; fully, and without indecision.

You brought your hands back up to his face – one covering his left cheek, the other the back of his skull – and positioned his face for your tongue to enter his mouth fully.

And he groaned.

You kissed him – really kissed him – just like that for a few moments, before pulling away, and trailing kisses across his jawline.

“Why…” he began. You paused. “Why did you not suggest this months ago? Years ago?”

You chuckled. “You’re a scary guy.” You traced your tongue down the tendons in his neck.

He liked your tongue.

He brought a hand up to your waist, giving it a squeeze. “Maker.”

You smiled again, trailing a hand over to his collarbone, across it, down his arm, gripping onto his bicep. His arms had always been your favorite.

You both released a similar noise at the squeeze.

��Knew you’d like that,” he said, pulling you away from his neck to kiss you on the mouth. He wrapped his right arm around your waist completely, pulling you into his lap, the entire bed creaking at the motion.

You knew he was flexing his arm purposely as he made this move. It was the entire reason he pulled you into him the way he did.

But maker if you didn’t let his want to impress you – to make you want him – seep into your very bones, and moan into his mouth at the feeling.

He kept you like that for a few more moments. On his lap, his big arm wrapped around you while the other hand framed your face and pushed back your hair as he kissed and kissed and kissed you. Like this, he was surrounding you. All encompassing.

You smiled as his tongue entered your mouth – at how much he had become in your eyes, how deeply you never wanted to leave.

You felt him smile too.

Tag list: (if you would like to be added please let me know!)

@burned-dorito, @tiredbuthappyppy @em---r @just-a-sewer-goblinlin @punkiwiki @lovesbiggerthanprideerthanpride @darth-voder @samanthacookieone @torchbearerkylee @stardust-galaxies @c4psicle @joelsflannell @mysun-n-stars@tateelii @darth-voder @kirsteng42 @leithatnight @arson-tm @l0calgothh @thesmutslut  @alastorhazbinbin @grincheveryday @reader8679 @cockscombkingdom

@lexloon @pauphs @enjoyyourlatttebitch

@miss-goldenweek

@darling-murdockk @1deadpool266 @queen-nothing-blogg @burnt-dorito @untitledareaa @julialoopeezz @daphne-turner @jediknightjanaa @sasakipspoststs

[koifly]

Toby headcanons

These are just some quick notes from my AU so I'm not going into too much detail with each headcanon!

-German, no not just German roots but he actually lives in Germany

-complex relationship with physical contact/affection

-talks a lot, but not very often. Either he's talking with no red string or is as silent as an owl's flight

-can't stand having a beard/stubble, HAS to shave or else he'll remind himself a bit too much of his dad

-fucked up hands through biting, picking and scratching

-freckles and moles everywhere, pale skin, eyebags

-dark brown hair+eyes, thick eyebrows, slightly hooked nose

-either dresses midwestern emo or how the marauders fandom portrays Remus Lupin since he thrifts his clothes because of the lack of money

-does the hand-flapping thing when he excitedly talks about something/someone that interests him

-DESPISES raw tomatoes

-pretty distant towards most of the creeps, only exceptions are Natalie, EJ, Kate and James (in that order btw, first is the person he's the closest to, last is the one he is, compared to the other three, most 'distant' to)

-prefers sweet snacks over salty snacks

-does the thumbs up+awkward smile thing whenever he didn't listen to what another person was saying to pretend that he did. Or when he's slightly weirded out by someone

-comparable to dogs, racoons and deers in a way

-prefers dogs over cats

-when stressed in the woods he usually sits down near flowers and rips them out before tearing them into smaller pieces

-that guy does NOT know how to properly take care of himself (forgets to eat, doesn't know how to cook etc...)

-unlabelled sexuality, if he likes someone he likes someone and doesn't really care about gender nor appearance

-still sometimes chews on his cheek which leads to his gash not properly healing

-secretly tries to befriend every damn animal he encounters but quickly gets frustrated and gives up when it ignores him/walks away from him

-gets forced to be Nina's makeup/fashion model sometimes (usually James is Nina's first victim but not always)

-Kate and him have a sibling relationship

-admires EJ in a lot of ways but has too much of a thick skull to actually admit that out loud

-sometimes leaves small handmade gifts and/or things he found in the woods in front of Nat's cabin such as bracelets, necklaces, knifes and all kinds of trinkets

-will instantly accuse others of taking his stuff when he doesn't find it just to find it 2 minutes later

-struggles to comfort others when they are crying/ having a breakdown/ etc......So he usually just awkwardly pats their back or sit beside them in silence

-huge Spiderman fanboy, has a lego Spiderman keychain on him at all times

-5'8 or 5'9 idk tho

-will try to get on peoples nerves just to see how they'll react

-hates authorities and people who act like their the boss/better than him

-will bark and bite (not literally, metaphorically)

-will see a rock and instantly compares it to someone's eyecolor/ haircolor (cough cough Nat cough cough...)

uhhhh yeah, that's some of them I guess

[kiradrabbles]

Ticci Toby x Afab reader NSFW alphabet

(hello! i may do an AMAB version of these if someone requests it :) in any case, enjoy!!)

A = Aftercare Toby isn't an expert on aftercare. He's mostly inexperienced with sex generally, and even then because he can't feel pain, temperature etc. he's not quite sure what exactly you need. But he'll get you a towel, and awkwardly offer you some water or a snack, hold you as close as possible and conk out on your tits cuddle you to sleep. Or he'll shower with you, but that ends up in another round usually. If you tell him anything specific, though? He'll make sure to do it every time, albiet a little nervously the first few. If he's bruised you by accident he'll kiss where he bruised and apologise, maybe get you an icepack if it really aches. And if you can't walk well? He'll carry you round 'till your legs work again.

B = Body part (his favourite body part) For an AFAB partner Toby is a tits man no question in my head. He's just.. A tits guy, what can I say? Flat chests, large chests, any. He'll smother his face in them and bite them and kiss them- also cuddle actually. Just use them as a pillow. Depending on how sensitive you are he'll incorporate this more or less into sex.

C = Cum Toby loves seeing his cum on you. That's it. He's messy too. He'll give backshots, face shots, tummy shots, anything and everything. This man is a menace.

D = Dirty secret Probably the fact that he's masturbated to you like.. A lot. And he has a ton of pictures he does it to. He isn't ashamed of it per se, he knows you know he finds you incredibly attractive, he just thinks you'll be creeped out by it.

E = Experience I headcanon Toby as a virgin, so you'd be his first.. Everything. Kiss, handjob, head, etc. So he's inexperienced - but he makes up for it with passion! Think about it, when would he have done all this? He was homeschooled for the majority of his life, and even then when he was at school he got bullied like hell for his tourettes. After he became a proxy he probably wouldn't have gotten the chance either. I guess he could have like.. Done some non-con stuff with a victim, but I really can't see him doing that idk.

F = favourite position He'll fuck in any position, but his favourite? If he's topping, this man will use his operator strength. He'll literally pick you up and fuck you. On the table, against the wall, he'd fuck you against a tree if you let him. He likes the power, and the view. Plus if you're held against him he can easily pop a titty in his mouth. If he's bottoming/taking it, mating press with him underneath. He likes the way you have a good view of his face, and can watch him moan and squirm. Plus he just likes the sensations.

G = Goofy (whether or not they're serious during sex) It depends, for Toby. Some days he's up for rough animalistic sex when he's feeling really pent up or stressed, During this he won't be exactly.. Serious, but he'll be too focused on everything else to mess around or make jokes with you. Otherwise? He can goof around a little. Play with you by picking you up and throwing you onto the bed, or biting places he knows you're ticklish.

H = Hair I think he'd be decently well trimmed down there. He wouldn't let it grow out into a bush, but he wouldn't be clean shaven unless his partner wanted it specifically. He also usually has a happy trail fuck you. Body hair? I feel like he doesn't bother to shave it (again, unless his partner prefers it). So he'll have hairy limbs and armpits. He also has some light stubble, which he shaves whenever he remembers, so it varies from clean shaven to the begginings of a beard.

I = Intimacy This man is NOT used to intimacy of any kind. Considering he only every got love from his dead sister? This fucker is probably so easily flustered, sexual or not. Anything non-explicitly sexual but still loving probably turns him into even more of a stuttering mess than he already is. Please kiss his scars and call him handsome and pretty and tell him he's deserving of love despite his disorders I'm BEGGING. Sex wise, again, it depends. Some days he'll just go wild during sex, if he's pent up stressed or just feels like it, other days he'll kiss you romantically and compliment you in between thrusts. He'll also adjust based on your preference.

J = Jerking off He jerks off once or twice a day, usually before missions and bed. He can't get a boner during missions (that would be awkward if nothing else) and doing it before bed is convenient. He isn't addicted to it or anything, and has gone a week or two without doing it on long missions, he just prefers to do so. Especially to a picture of his beloved.

K = Kink(s) Toby is a total freak in the bedroom. I'm talking period sex level freak. It would probably be easier to list what kinks he didn't have. But a few specific ones spring to mind. • Praise kink. Toby is happy to give compliments during sex, but receiving them? Oh lord. He's spent most of his life without compliments or praise, so having you do it to him during something so intimate? He'll turn into a blushing moaning mess. This one is more for when he's bottoming. • Primal play. Like I said before, he's a pretty animalistic guy. He'd love to (with consent ofc) chase you and tackle you down, or play hide-and seek and fuck your brains out when he finds you. Or just hold you down and breed you like an animal. • Cumshots. I mentioned it earlier but this man loves seeing you covered in it. Not only is it straight up hot as hell, he also thinks It marks you as his in a way. Possessive lil shit. • Begging. He also loves it when you beg for him, or he begs for you. He's into it both ways. When you beg for him it's hot because it's reassurance that you want him and find him attractive. Him and no one else. When he begs for you it's hot because he's being vulnerable, and theres something about being that desperate. • Marking. I'm talking biting you, scratching you, hickies and fingerprint bruises on your thighs. He'll kiss them better after the act of course, but in the moment anything that he gives to you makes him go haywire.

L = Location This man will do it anytime, anywhere if you're both feeling it. Bedroom, couch (if the other pastas aren't home), forest, you probably have to persuade him not to do it in alleways sometimes. Or just do it, if that's your thing all power to ya. He does slightly prefer private places though, as that way you can go for longer.

M = Motivation (what turns him on) What doesn't? One particular thing that comes to mind is seeing the marks of what he did the next day, especially if you don’t hide the hickeys with a scarf when out in public. It's embarrassing (and sometimes he feels guilty even when you assure him it's fine) but it also sends something in him crazy knowing you're displaying that you're his in public. The smallest things can get him in the mood, though. You stretching, wearing his clothes, complimenting him, sweating, anything and everything. Sometimes nothing, sometimes just seeing you.

N = No (boundaries) Shit and vomit are.. No go's for him. (He'll try piss if you're really eager). DDLG and Daddy in general make him feel predatory and gross, and also anything father related remind him of his dad which is.. Yea, not sex thoughts. And also voyeurism. Remember I said he was a possesive lil shit? Yeah. He ain't sharing you with no one.

O = Oral He loves oral, both giving and receiving. If he had to choose, though? He'd prefer receiving. He loves seeing you gag on his cock, and of course, cumming all over your face. (he'll clean you up after ofc). Not to say he doesn't love giving it either. This man loves eating. He thinks the noises you make are cute - and he also would not mind you sitting on his face.

P = Pace He's usually fast paced. He loves fast rough sex, both of you moaning and yelling and grabbing each other. Sometimes he'll force himself to slow down though, either to tease you or to make the most of it and enjoy every second, especially if he has a long mission coming up and won't see you for a while.

Q = Quickies He prefers longer sessions with multiple rounds, but he's fine with quickies. Sometimes he just needs to bang your brains out before a mission.

R = Risk You're in the slendermansion, everything is a risk. The walls are thin as fuck - at least you think they are? You've never heard anyone complain about you and Toby, but you've never heard anyone complain about the screams of whichever victim Jeff has brought home for some reason. Toby finds it hotter when theres a risk of getting caught. After all, worst case someone else gets shown point blank you're his, and it's cute seeing you try stifle moans.

S = Stamina This man. Can go. For hours. If you let him. The operator strength affects more than just his strength if you know what I mean. By the time he's done you're usually all fucked out. I'm talking multiple rounds, maybe a minute break between them? If you date Toby get ready to be able to hardly walk for a lot of the time. And you best believe he's a smug shit when he carries you around after. "O-oh babe, sorry, did I fuck your brains out t-too hard?" and he will make you say he did.

T = Toys He doesn't usually use toys, except maybe ropes or vibrators if you're into that stuff. Except. Srap-ons. Peg this man. He won't tell you, but this man is PEGGABLE. And he WILL enjoy it and start moaning your name. Trust guys. He's also pretty skinny (lean, but skinny) so if you use a big enough strapon he'll get a stomach bulge.

U = Unfair (teasing) Usually he can't really tease you during sex as he's too busy fucking your brains out (or getting his brains fucked out) but as with pace, he can slow it down a little sometimes. And when he does you best believe he'll tease the shit out of you. He'll make you beg for it, and he WILL drag it out as long as possible. Probably try his hand at edging you. (but it's fine if you edge him back he'll become a stuttering fucking begging MESS)

V = Volume/Vocal I imagine Toby isn't the most vocal of men, but you will know when he's enjoying it. Moaning, grunting, even growling. Sometimes he'll stutter out short sentances too. "F-fuck, tight-" "gonna split you in half baby-" "Mach w-weiter" (keep going) "Please, p-please please-" shit like that.

W = Wild Card (misc) Toby speaks fluent German, as his parents were 1'st gen immigrants from Germany. (it's canon confirmed he has German ancestry but not more specific than that, so that's more of a headcanon.) He does some sex talk in german, especially when he gets In the heat of it. "Oh mein Gott" ( oh my god) "V-Verdammt, das fühlt sich so gu-gut an" (Fuck, that feels so good) "Ich l-liebe dich, härter bitte" (I love you, harder please)

X = X-Ray Toby is skinny, but lean. And deceptively strong. His whole body is covered head to toe in scars - stomach, chest, arms shoulders legs. Everywhere. He has no tattoos save for the operator symbol on his wrist. He's 5"10 in hight. In terms of his member, he's pretty big, a little larger than average at about 7.5 inches, give or take a few depending on just how hard he is too. He's pretty girthy as well, so get ready for the ride of your life.

Y = Yearning (libido) High libido. Horny fucker. Literally so horny, he's pretty much ready for it any time anywhere. Especially when it's related to you. You could probably look at him funny and he'd wanna fuck.

Z = Zzz It's 50/50 whether he'll pass out after sex or not. If he does he cuddles you close though, probably whispering nice things and calling you pretty. Just resting on you, playing with your hair or letting you play with his.

[blankwashed]

Backstory: After years away, Caleb finally returns to Linkon, ready to pick up where he left off. He’s been gone long enough to chase his career, but the draw of the old town—and you—was never far from his mind. Tonight, he walks into the familiar bar, hoping to make up for lost time. The years apart haven’t dimmed his feelings for you; if anything, they’ve only intensified. During this one night to catch up, Caleb’s determined to see if the spark is still there, he wondered if you felt the same way about him as he did about you.

Triggers: Explicit sexual content (Sex in the club’s toilet), Slightly alcoholic substances (It’s a club), death of Caleb and Hunter’s grandma mentioned

It’s been years—no, let alone decades—since you’ve seen your childhood friend, Caleb. The memory of him was burnt into your mind: sharp eyes that always seemed to see too much, that cocky smirk that got him out of trouble just as often as it got him in it. Back then, he was trouble you didn’t dare to approach. And now? Trouble is exactly what he looks like as he leans against the far wall of the bar, one boot propped up, a glass of whiskey dangling from his fingers.

You froze in the doorway, your pulse skipping like a damn schoolkid’s, though you’d never admit it. He’s different now—broader shoulders, a shadow of stubble darkening his sharp jaw, and a dangerous air that screams don’t touch. But those eyes? Those same intense, soul-pinning eyes? They lock on to you the second you step inside.

He doesn’t smile, not right away. No, his lips pull into something slower, darker—a smirk that tells you he knows exactly how your stomach is twisting. And as if the years apart mean nothing, he tips his glass in your direction, daring you to come closer.

You don’t, not immediately, of course. You head to the bar instead, ignoring the heat of his gaze crawling over your back. You can feel him watching, though, as you order a drink.

“Bartender! One scotch on the rocks. Put it on this tab,” you said as you slipped a hundred dollar bill on the bar. Caleb doesn’t know that you drink now, hell, the last time he met you, it was practically against the law to go to such a place! But to find you in a place like this now…he’s got a few questions for you to answer.

As the bartender gave you the drink you ordered, he mentioned that you didn’t need to pay for it as a ‘kind gentleman’ already paid for your tab. Slightly confused, you had to guess it was Caleb. The scotch made your skin tingle and your fingers to tighten around the glass when you finally took a sip.

“Didn’t think I’d see you here,” came his voice, low and rough as he stepped up beside you. His presence was way too familiar but towering and close, and his scent, leather and smoke, it flooded your senses.

“I could say the same thing,” you replied coolly, keeping your focus on your drink, even though your pulse is hammering. “Didn’t think you’d still be alive.”

He chuckled, the sound low and delicious. “Oh, I’m full of surprises, sweet pea. You, though…” He leans in, his breath brushing your ear. “You’re exactly the same. Still trying to act like I don’t get under your skin.”

You stiffenned, your glass clinking against the counter as you set it down a little too hard. “And you’re still an arrogant prick huh?” you snap, spinning to face him. But damn it, he’s closer than you expected, those lips just inches from yours, his eyes burning with something dangerous.

“And yet,” he murmurred, stepping into your space, his hand brushing your waist, “here you are, letting me get close. Then I’m guessing…still single?”

Your breath catches, your body betraying you with the way it leans into him despite your better judgment. He notices, of course he notices, and that damn smirk deepens.

“You missed me,” he whispered, his voice a rough caress, his hand sliding to your hip, squeezing just enough to send sparks up your spine.

“To hell with that,” you shot back, but your voice trembles, and the way his eyes darken tells you he heard it.

“Liar,” he growled, and then his lips crashed onto yours—hot, demanding, a kiss that steals your breath and leaves no room for doubt. His hands were on you, possessive and firm, pulling you against his body like he’s been waiting for this moment for years.

The kiss breaks, and he stared down at you, his thumb brushing your cheek as his voice drops to a rasp. “You can tell yourself you hate me all you want, sweetheart. But your body? It doesn’t lie.”

And when you grabbed his shirt and dragged him back to you, your lips crashed onto his this time, you knew he’s right. He knew he was right.

You never forgot about him.

“Why did Grandma have to die and not you instead?”

The words hang in the air like a gunshot, sharp and final. You hadn’t meant to say it, at least not out loud. But the second they leave your lips, the silence between you feels suffocating.

Caleb stiffens, his jaw clenching so tight you can see the muscle tick. His usual bravado, that cocky shield he always hides behind, is gone in an instant. All that’s left is the raw, wounded man beneath.

He takes a step back, his eyes narrowing, but there’s a flash of something else—pain, maybe? Regret? It’s gone as fast as it came, replaced by that cold, hardened look you’ve seen him wear a hundred times before.

“Is that what you really think of me?” His voice is low, deadly calm, but there’s an edge to it, sharp enough to cut.

You don’t answer, your chest heaving with a mix of anger and guilt. You should apologize, take it back—but part of you doesn’t want to. Part of you wants to hurt him the way he’s hurt you, the way his absence, his choices, have haunted you for years.

“Go on, say it again,” Caleb growls, stepping closer this time, your body basically hitting the back of the bar’s walls. “Say it so I know exactly how much you hate me.”

Your lips part, but the words stick in your throat. The anger is still there, burning bright but the way he’s looking at you - his eyes dark and raw, his body towering over yours..it’s throwing you off balance. You hate him, and yet…you can’t ignore tha way your body reacts to the heat rolling off him.

“Maybe I will,” you snapped, lifting your chin, refusing to back down. “Maybe you deserve to hear it. Maybe you deserve to die under all that rubble from our house instead of grandma. She’s innocent, but you? You killed, you murdered, you..”

He’s closer to you now, so close till you can feel the tension vibrating off him. He isn’t afraid of you, even after hearing the heartless things you said from your mouth. “You don’t mean that,” he said through gritted teeth.

“I don’t? How’d you know, huh?” you challenged, your voice shaking just enough to betray the turmoil inside you. Mainly, the scotch playing with your voice.

For a moment, it’s like he’s about to walk away. You know how much he treasured grandma, so talking about something like that hit heavy for him. He never wanted her to perish but…

“Then hate me,” he growled, his voice low and dangerous. “Hate me all you want. But don’t fucking pretend you don’t feel this.”

Your heart pounded, your head was already intoxicated and pounding from the questions your mind was playing on itself. “I hate you,” you whispered, but the way your fingers traced the line of his jaw told him a different story.

“Liar,” he growls but before you can respond his mouth was on yours again, stealing every thought, every ounce of self control. His hands roamed your body, claiming every inch as if he’s trying to prove something, as if he’s trying to remind you of everything you’ve been trying to forget.

Him.

You gasped as his teeth grazed the curve of you neck, his unshaved stubble tough against your skin in a way that has your thighs squeezing around his hips. Caleb’s hands were everywhere—pulling, grabbing, demanding— as though he’s afraid if he stopped touching you for even a second, you’ll disappear.

“Gods, you drive me fucking crazy,” he growled against your collarbone, his voice rough and filled with something raw. His hands slip under your shirt, calloused fingers brushing against the bare skin of your pushed-up cleavage.

You clutch at his shoulders, your nails digging in hard enough to leave marks ans the low rumble from his chest tells you he likes it. He loved it hard. “Good,” you spat back at him, yanking at the collar of his shirt. “Maybe now you know what it feels like.”

He pulls you to a secluded toilet stall that has a singular light bulb hanging from the ceiling. “You think you’re the only one?” he snaps, his hands tightening on your waist, dragging your hips against his. “You’ve been under my skin since the day we met, sweetheart. You fucking own me, and you don’t even realise it.”

His confession only confirmed his feelings for you, but you didn’t get a chance to respond. His lips were on yours again, his kiss was brutal and angry with its intensity. He ngaws at your bottom lip and when you almost let out a yelp, his tongue slides into your mouth. Always trying to take control like it’s the only thing he knows how to do.

Your back hits the counter of the toilet. “We..we’re doing it here? In this disgusting shit hole?” you said, as you swore you saw someone go there to vomit almost 5 minutes ago.

“Do you have a better suggestion, angel?” he said a matter of factly. Caleb tugs your shirt over your head in one sharp motion (it was just a strapless top anyways).

“You make me a fucking menace, did you know that?” he growled. “Do you have any idea what you do to me?”

You barely managed to get out a breathless, “Maybe,” before his mouth was back on yours, his kiss so hungry it steals the air from your lungs. His tongue tangles with yours, and you moan into his mouth as his hand slides down the tight mini-skirt you wore.

“Fuck,” he murmured against your lips when his fingers lapped up how wet you were. “You’re soaked already? Guess you don’t hate me as much as much as you said, huh?”

“Shut up,” you snapped, but the way your body arches into his touches, you were completely lying at this point.

He smirks. That cocky bastard, and his fingers slipped right into your folds, teasing you with just enough pressure to make your legs tremble. “Say it,” he demands, his voice low and commanding. “Say you want me, sweetpea.”

Your pride was high and wanted you to hold your ground. “I hate this, I hate that childhood name that you keep calling me. I’m an adult now, don’t you see?” you tried to say with gusto while trying to glare into his eyes but instead the breathy moan that escaped when he slides one finger inside of you made it clear how much of a lie that was.

“Liar…” he growls, his thumb circling around your clit, pinching in the areas where he knew would drive any woman mad. “You hate me, hm? But you’re dripping for me? Tell me again, sweetheart. Tell me how much you hate this as much as you hate me.”

Your head falls back against the door, your hips rocking with his hand as heat floods through your veins. “You’re such an asshole, always has been..always will be.”you managed to quiver as your nails drugged into his shoulders as you tried to ground yourself against the intensity of the orgasm he gave you.

“And you fucking love it,” he shot back as he adds another finger, stretching you. “Don’t think I’ve forgotten the way you looked at me. The way you bite your lip every time I get too close.”

You wanted to argue as you always do but the pleasure building inside of you steals the words from your lips. Instead, a strangled moan escapes as his fingers curl. hitting that spot that makes your vision blur.

“Say my name,” he demands, his voice way more rough that you remembered it to be. “Say it.”

“C-Caleb,” you gasp, wanting to find the same pleasure that he was giving to you.

Caleb of course, a man of his own word, lifted you up in one smooth motion and carried you to the sink. In one smooth motion, his shirt is on the nasty bar’s floor. He flexed and the hard lines of his body were showing that he had all power and control now.

“You want more, my sweet?” he asked, his voice dropping an octave as he looms over you with eyes dark with lust.

“Don’t make me beg. You know I never do,” you managed to say despite your voice sounding breathless.

His smirk returns, that annoying cocky grin that would make you punch bricks but fall in love with him. “Oh you’ll beg, sweetheart,” he promises, his hands parting your thighs apart as he lowers himself between them. “But don’t worry—I’ll make it worth your wait.”

Caleb’s lips are in between your thighs, giving kisses in areas where no one has been before. He was teasing, again. Memorising every inch, every curve, every scar…it was just agonising. The way his tongue moved had your body arching into him. your hands tangled in his hair, pulling him deeper as your breath came in gasps.

“You’re fucking perfect,” he murmurs against your skin, his voice thick with hunger. At that point, the both of you forgot you were in public. He’s between your legs again, skirt chucked up in some other random place, his main goal to give you sensations that sent you overdrive. The heat was building, swirling, coiling tighter and tighter as he works his long fingers and tongue in you with relentless precision.

“Caleb, please,” you begged, your voice trembling. “Please, I need this—“

He was not letting your finish, not when he’s this close to breaking you. His fingers slide inside your again, curling deep and his other hand grips your thigh stabilising your half drunk body as you spread wide for him.

“Need what, sweetheart?” he asked, his voice silky and dangerous, his lips brushing your inner thigh as he speaks. “Tell me what you need and I’ll give it to you.”

“You,” you moan, your body trembling under his trouch, his name slipping from your lips. “You, Caleb, please I need you.”

His smirk widen as he pulls aways just enough to hover over you. you could see his chest rising and falling with each ragged breath. He looks down at you with the same intensity and for a moment, there’s a flicker of something more in his eyes—love? No, it was something deeper. This was him fulfilling his dream, his desire.

“I’m going to fuck you so hard you won’t remember your own name,” he growls as he positions himself at your entrance.

Before pushing in he rubbed his very hard cock along your soaked pussy, making you wonder whether he was teasing you again. But once he slowly filled you in with one smooth stroke, the pain made you realise why. Caleb thrusted deeper and you gasped when he bottomed out making you stay still and silent. He wanted to move but he was waiting for your answer.

“You okay?” he asked, his voice way quieter now. He wants to move but he was waiting for your answer.

You nod, your hips already starting to rock against him, craving more but the burn of his length was ripping your insides apart. Everything you’ve ever wanted.

“More,” you moaned, “please, Caleb. Don’t stop.”

With that, he moves, his hips snapping forward to meet yours in forceful motions. HIs rhythm is relentless—hard and fast—pounding into you as his name falls from your lips over and over. It was consummating for you, finally, after all these years of loving him for a far.

His hands grip your hips, keeping you in place as he fucks you harder, faster, his voice rough while he speaks.

“Say it again,” he demanded, his voice low. “Say you need me.”

“I need you,” you cried out, the words spilling from your lips as the pleasure inside you becomes unbearable. “I fucking need you, Caleb!”

And with that, he fucks you harder, faster, as if the world was exploding behind him but it didn’t matter because he was having the best time of his life. Your body shakes by the own force of your orgasm and Caleb follows close behind, his own cum spilling into you with a rough groan.

Both of you are breathless, your bodies tangled together on the sink. Both of your breathing normalises while staring into each other’s eyes.

“You still hate me?” he softly asked as he stares into your eyes. His lips smirking, but in a gentle way.

“Very much.” you replied, your voice still a little shaky but the both of you knew it was your biggest lie.

[meetmymouth]

i feel like theadora!y/n would love to tease harry about how hot his dad bod is knowing damn well he doesn’t actually have one askdjsjd

He emerges from the bathroom, a green towel snugly wrapped around his hips with another green one securely holding his short hair. She laughs behind her hand, knowing he doesn’t actually need the towel for his hair, but lets it go.

She goes back to her book.

Harry hums along to a song he’s probably heard earlier when they were cooking with the radio on, and tries to gather everything from his newly organised drawers for his grand nightly routine.

“Lookin’ good, daddy,” she muses from where she’s sitting on the bed, book now closed on her lap.

He looks up with furrowed eyebrows, clearly not expecting it.

He looks really young, despite the stache he’s been growing for a while, and she thinks the towel on his head plays a big part.

He purses his pink lips, one of her hand creams in his hand. “Did you just call me ‘daddy’?”

“Yep.”

“No, no… don’t,” he goes back to rummaging through her drawers. She knows he’s looking for the foot cream she’d splurged on despite him making fun of her at the time. “Not when we’re not— you know… having sex.”

She lets out a laugh. “It wasn’t meant to be sexual anyway.”

He looks up again. “Oh.”

“You’re a dad, aren’t you?”

“Yeah, but…”

“A DILF.”

He groans, and walks over to the bed. He sits on his side of the bed, but not before letting the towel drop. “Don’t start.”

“I just love it!” She smiles, though the sweet smile turns into one that’s cheekier. “You know how people talk about DILFs and hot dads… dad bods…” she trails, and looks up at him, already finding his eyes on her.

His gaze looks dark.

“Dad bod?” He scoffs.

“Um,” she knows where she’s— where they’re going with this.

“Like…” he tries to look and sound nonchalant, applying the cream to his feet.

She watches his back muscles, and his bum— and the way it looks soft and squished against the duvet.

She laughs again when he doesn’t say anything else.

Until he does.

“Like,” he carries on. “Beer bellies and chubby cheeks, y’mean?”

“What?” She laughs.

“Dad bodies. Are you telling me—” he quickly gets up, and turns to the full length mirror. He studies his body. “Oh fuck off, I look fuckin’ hot. Right?”

“Babe…” She moves over to him, and places her hands on his hips, chin on his shoulder. She kisses the freckles there. “Even if you did have a beer belly and chubby cheeks… you’d still be hot. Having all that… it doesn’t mean you’re not hot.”

“Sorry, it’s just. I found a grey hair and then a few in my stubble.”

She lets out a laugh, and hugs him closer to her chest. They look ridiculous, cuddled up with Harry naked, but she loves the feeling of his strong body against hers.

“That’s okay.”

“I think,” he takes a deep breath. He turns around, his hands finding her growing belly. “It’s just hit me— I’m getting old. I have two daughters.”

“If you’re getting old, I’m getting old, too!”

“Yeah but. I don’t know. I guess. I’m a bit nervous.”

“You know I love you, right? We love you.”

He smiles, leans into the touch— her hands now on his cheeks. She strokes his cheekbones, and presses a kiss on his chin.

“I love you guys.”

“And… you do look fuckin’ hot.”

He grins. “Yeah?”

“Mhm. Very. It’s like. Not fair, how hot you are. It’s not even just your body,” she moves her hands down his body, stopping on his stomach, on the butterfly. “It’s everything that makes you you.”

“Keep going…”

She chuckles. She pinches—tries to—his abs. “And I love seeing you take care of our family. Thea… and now her,” they both look down at her belly. Harry places one hand there, and strokes the warm skin under her t-shirt. “I fall in love with who you are— who you’ve become every day.”

[fmhobeus]

house and you as pill/smoke buddies is on my brain rn mhmmm...

it probably starts when he catches you on the roof, blunt in hand, sighing into the void. your lab coat is abandoned on the sill. hard day at the hospital, child patient. couldn't save them. you know this is a high stress job, emotionally draining and you've never been good at coping. so there you are. some diazepam you swallowed down thirty minutes prior already in your system. must've kicked in already. house see's you and he's instantly intrigued by the arch of your back and the curve of your hips. perfect in those tight pencil skirts you wear. he doesn't know you but he's dying to figure out.

"i think you've stolen my spot." he clambers up to you. he's surprised you hadn't turned when you heard the cane. were you so deep in thought? you turn to look at him. register him. disheveled looking older man, 5 o'clock shadow, piercing blue eyes... and so you're type. you try to recall who he is. definitely a physician from the absence of a lab coat. is this the infamous...

"dr. house," he states. obviously the speed of your reaction, or lack thereof had intrigued him. your pupils were dilated and your breathing was irregular... though you might attribute that to present company "and you should not be this high while still in the hospital."

you breathe out the smoke you inhaled with a slight smirk. it makes him smirk too. you turn your back to the view and face him and subsequently eye his frame. he returns the favor, a lot less suggestively then you were. but of course he can't hold you to it, the way your eyes flutter is mostly because of the weed. heavy, intoxicating eyes. something tells you he doesn't mind it.

"don't tell. i'll leave in a minute and you can have your space back" you say.

"i said you stole my spot... who says you have to give it back?"

you smile and scoot over, tilting your head slightly gesturing him to join you. he pops two vicodin innocuously but you notice.

"damn, you swallow your pills dry? you're a sociopath" you giggle.

"i thought you as a doctor would be careful throwing around serious medical terms like that" he says, feigning an accusation. there's something about the intensity of eye contact you're holding. you've just met the guy and there's wayyy too much sexual tension in the air.

"not in the psychiatric department so no one can hold me to it," you say, blowing smoke in another direction. some part of house wanted you to blow the smoke right at him, not breaking the mutual eyefucking going on at the moment.

"how else did you get the lorazepam you've taken?" he asks, a sly tone like he has you all figured out. this was just a question to get you to spill the beans about your department. god you made him so curious. rarely had he seen a hot young doctor brazenly smoking after, presumably, taking a little something something. one so open to converse with an old man whose in her business.

you chuckle at his self assuredness.

"wanna take another guess?"

house uses this to shamelessly eye you. you're well put together, great sense of fashion. nice proportions. your body, not the outfits... he'd prefer you without them surely. no tremor. no injury, so no usual pain medication. you let out a heavy sigh and house darts his eyes towards your chest. great rack, he thinks, almost like he's going to put it in this mental patient report he's creating.

"hmmm, haloperidol? you don't strike me as the psychosis type though... valium wouldn't give you selective hearing. diazepam?"

"you know your anxiety medication, doc," you smile. he sighs abashedly. god he's hot. something about that rasp in his voice, good god, paired with the vanity radiating off his skin... it does something to you. you finally introduce yourself, partially because you need him to call you by your name in the same raspy, smug tone.

"pediatric pulmonology..." he puts a hand to his chin, scratching his stubble as if contemplating something serious, "it's always the childcare specialists trying to overdose on the hospital terrace. dont blame you, if i had to deal with those parasites i'd want to kill myself too."

you shoot him a look. your sure you dont need to tell him the stakes of the job, the weight on your soul when a child with an obvious chronic and fatal condition comes into intensive care. the cruel hand fate plays on a mere baby. "kids are a product of their environment." you put plainly. you look away into the distance. "and i'm not trying to kill myself. not yet anyway." he stops prodding, obviously he's ticked you in some way.

"are you trying to kill yourself? doctor house?" you stare at him now, and then move your eyes to the almost empty bottle of vicodin.

"oh, i'm an addict. an addict whose due for a refill." he puts the bottle at eye level, as if examining a test tube. you can't help but give a defeated smile at his bluntness. you stare off into space again. a hollow silence follows. you don't dare look at house once.

"you mind if i take a hit"

his question catches you off guard. there's an earnest in his blue eyes. almost as if involuntarily, almost hypnotized, you hand him the joint. your fingers brush as if on purpose. your breath hitches again. and house notices, coloring his eyes a different shade of vain. he puts the blunt to his lips, your eyes follow his every move with heed. the pink of his lips soon emit the familiar smoke. he looks you right in the eyes as he blows it onto your face. you bask in the smoke letting it cloud you. cloud your judgement for a split second as you lean forward. for a kiss? maybe but

house puts the blunt to your lips this time, dragging his thumb across your bottom lip. you look up at him through your lashes, eyes blown out wide. he's so tall, even with his cane. he lets you intake the smoke for a second longer than you like, maintaining the intense gaze on you. there's a kick in your stomach. maybe it's something. maybe it's nothing. maybe you're just high. but you swear you've never been wetter.

[2nd2ndalto]

nothing's gonna stop me but divine intervention

Part 2! Editing and re-editing this took so much longer than it should have. Never underestimate my ability to create plot holes in something that barely has a plot, I guess.

__

Chapter 2

(chapter 1 here)

Nico goes very, very pale. “What – what does that mean?”

Will knows Nico well enough to be able to recognize that he’s trying very hard to keep it together. Will also knows Nico well enough to see that he’s terrified.

Maybe Will’s wrong about the pollen, though. Could he be? Almost scared to try, he holds a hand out in front of him, tries to feel his way into his powers, to summon any semblance of a glow.

Fuck. Nothing. It feels like a spent muscle, drained and useless.

Will steels himself. He's had some experience delivering bad medical news, unfortunately. He tries to ignore the way his whole body feels like a live wire, fizzing. “I don’t suppose you’re familiar with the original Star Trek series?” he asks.

Nico just blinks.

“I think it was the first reference to – sex pollen. In modern media. There’s an episode where the crew of The Enterprise visits a planet where all the inhabitants are mysteriously in perfect health and in perpetual – bliss. They discover these spores. Which are like an – aphrodisiac,” Will says haltingly.

“An aphrodisiac?” Nico says weakly.

“Yeah. And this – substance. That we inhaled. It has similar effects. Aphrodisiac effects.”

Nico hasn’t taken his eyes off Will for a single second, clearly fighting to make sense of all this. Likely trying to come up with a way out, any available loophole.

“So what do we do?” Nico whispers. “How do we – how long does it last?” He’s still sitting just inches away, all tense and… warm.

The level of attraction Will’s feeling towards his friend is off the charts, incredibly distracting. If he swayed forward just a few inches, he’d be able to feel Nico’s hot breath on his skin, press his mouth to the square line of Nico’s stubbled jaw… And gods, the way Nico’s tongue darts out to wet his lips, how much Will wants to bite them –

“Will?” Nico sounds just on the edge of panic, and that’s enough to snap Will back to reality for a second. Because yes, he’s feeling all these things for Nico, but there’s absolutely no reason to think that Nico might have the same feelings in return, Will reminds himself firmly, trying to cling to the little bits of sanity and logic he’s still able to access.

“It’s nothing I’ve studied extensively,” Will says. “But from what I remember, the effects should last about twelve hours, depending on the dose. And we both got a good faceful.”

“Twelve hours.” Nico sounds breathless. “But we can’t – can’t you do something? Or – or I can shadow travel us out of here – the hospital in New Rome –”

Will swallows. “You won’t be able to. The spores disable your powers. I just tried to use mine, and – there’s nothing there.”

“Are you sure?”

“I mean – you could try.”

Will knows better than anyone that Nico’s physiology can be unpredictable. He remembers unicorn draught. A flash in his mind: Nico’s hand, slipping right through his, no substance to it. Will’s stomach still churns with the memory.

Nico stills, closes his eyes. The tension rising in his body is almost tangible, a string pulled tighter and tighter –

“Fuck. Fuck.” He sags, drops his head to his hands.

“Yeah,” Will breathes, bleak agreement. “And the symptoms – are pretty much everything you’d imagine that would go along with heightened sexual arousal,” he says, forcing himself to relay this information as clinically as possible. “So, like –”

“It’s okay,” Nico interrupts. “You don’t have to – I think I can figure it out.”

Will’s eyes settle Nico’s leather-clad back, heaving with his breath. What a fucking mess.

“I’m sorry. This is my fault,” Will says.

“No, Will.” Nico sits up. He’s flushed, glowing – and okay, it’s probably sweat, actually, but he’s incredibly, breathtakingly gorgeous. And he’s looking at Will with so much care and sympathy. “It’s really not your fault.”

“It was my idea to open the urn,” Will says, guilt burning in his chest. He can almost never stop the impulse. “I – I should have remembered about the spores. Because I can’t do anything about it now, but maybe I could have, if I’d caught it sooner, if I’d remembered –”

“No, stop that,” Nico says, stern, intimately familiar with Will’s spiralling thought processes. “It’s not your fault. And anyway it’s – it’s not a big deal, right? We’ve been through worse.”

It makes Will’s throat go tight, the way Nico can pivot so quickly, the way he just decides we can do this, because he knows that’s what Will needs to hear.

Will wants so badly to give him the same reassurance in return. “Maybe – let me try,” he says. “To see if I can do anything to help. I tried to summon a glow a few minutes ago, and it didn’t work, but –” he offers a hand to Nico. Nico takes it, automatic.

Will closes his eyes and tries to push the arousal from his brain, tries to gather the threads in his mind that can reach out and feel. Feeling Nico is normally second nature, easy as breathing. Will tries. And tries.

He drops Nico’s hand, frustrated. It aches, letting go, and Nico clearly feels it too, letting out a soft whine.

“Fuck. I’ve got nothing,” Will says. He’s sweating even harder now, a trickle of it down his back. “It’s like everything’s blocked. Like all my powers are behind a locked door, and I just – can’t.

“It felt like it was working for a second,” Nico says, shaky. “When you were – holding my hand. I felt like – like everything kind of – settled.”

Will gazes at Nico, forcing his brain to work through the problem, consider the facts of the matter. Gods it’s so much more difficult than it should be. Everything feels like swimming through mud, dense and blinding. But – “the spores – they want skin-to-skin contact, right? So that’s got to help ease the effects, somehow,” Will says slowly. Does that make sense? He thinks it makes sense.

“So can we – is it okay if we – hold hands?” Nico asks, awkward.

“Yeah, of course.”

It’ll be a blessing, if that’s all it takes. Will reaches for Nico’s hand, linking their fingers together. The relief is immediate, like a balm. A sudden breeze on a sweltering summer day.

“Oh, that’s –” Will breathes.

“Better, yeah,” Nico sighs. He closes his eyes and there’s a long moment of quiet, the two of them sitting side by side on Will’s bed. There’s the slam of a door somewhere down the hallway, and the ding of the elevator. But it suddenly feels as if everything’s muted, like anything taking place beyond the two of them is inconsequential.

“So what do we do now?” Nico murmurs. “Just – sit here holding hands for twelve hours?”

“We can,” Will says, just as soft. The comfort is almost overwhelming. Feeling Nico’s vital energy has always been calming. And though Will can’t actually do that at the moment, this is an awfully good substitute. The arousal hasn’t abated in the slightest, boiling heat in his veins, but Nico’s nearness is making everything fuzzy at the edges. Soft and floaty. Will can feel his heart rate slowing, his shoulders relaxing.

“It’s nice,” Nico says. For a second Will thinks he means to say more, but then they just fall into silence again, heat and breath.

How many other times have they sat together like this, in soft conversation or in silence, just taking comfort in each other? How many times have Will’s worries and problems culminated in just this: the two of them quiet, together. The reassurance that Nico knows him like no one else does. And that he’s going stay, no matter what else changes in their lives.

“I can probably do this for twelve hours,” Nico says. He sounds so much calmer now. “I mean, it wasn’t how I planned to spend the evening. But it’s always nice hanging out with you.” He squeezes Will’s hand and the feeling of it tingles all over Will’s body, sparking to his fingers and his toes. And his dick.

Shit.

Will takes a deep breath, lets it out slow, measured.

He's been doing his best not to focus on it, but he’s very, very hard. And the longer they sit here in quiet, the more he’s extremely aware of the throbbing ache in his groin. He shifts, just slightly.

Quiet again.

“You okay?” Nico asks.

“Yeah, I’m – I’m hanging in there,” Will says. But it’s starting to feel… less good.

“How long do you think it’s been since we opened the urn?” Nico asks. “Maybe an hour?”

“Maybe?” Will opens his eyes to check his watch. “Yeah. Almost.” He shifts again. “I – I’m getting a little uncomfortable,” he admits.

“Oh. From sitting?” Nico asks. He turns to look at Will, and gods Will needs to kiss him. He needs to. A tip of their heads and they’d be close enough, Will’s fingers winding in dark hair, and Nico’s lips would part –

Will pulls his hand away and stands, abrupt. Nico lets out a soft sound of protest, swaying towards Will for a moment before sitting back again, looking adorably disappointed.

And what if… what if Will could kiss that look right off his face?

Will presses both hands over his eyes. Gods, he’s got to get it together. This hotel room is so fucking small. “I – I think it wants – more,” he says.

“What?” Nico says. At least his voice doesn’t come closer. Will doesn’t think he could take it.

“The spores,” Will grits out. “It – the physical contact. It’s – rewarding. In the short term. But then the spores want more. More contact. More – skin.”

“Oh –”

“So holding hands isn’t enough. After a while.”

“So what do we do?” Nico asks. He looks more uncomfortable now too, awkwardly shifting his hips like maybe his jeans are too tight. And for the first time Will’s exquisitely aware that Nico’s likely just as hard as he is, just a few feet and a couple of layers of fabric away. And maybe that shouldn’t be such an enormous jolt to his system, but it is. Will groans.

“Will –” Nico stands, reaches out, then takes a step back, looking desperately unsure.

Gods, this is the fucking worst. How on earth are they supposed to endure eleven more hours of this? Now that they’re not touching anymore, it’s as if every outside sensation is amplified in a way that makes Will want to crawl out of his skin. The soft light from the bedside lamps is too bright and the quiet murmur of the TV in the next room is deafening. Most of all, the ache in his groin is superseding all his other, more sensible thought processes. He’s desperate to take the few steps into Nico’s space, take Nico’s face in his hands and –

He’s your friend he’s your friend he’s your friend, Will chants internally.

“We – we can – it wants us to… reproduce,” Will manages. “That’s the only way to nullify it. Without waiting for the effects to wear off.”

Nico laughs, bleak. “It wants – Will, you and I could fuck for twelve hours straight and there still wouldn’t be any reproduction.”

And suddenly all Will’s stupid, stupid brain can hear is you and I could fuck for twelve hours straight. You and I could fuck for twelve hours straight. You and I could fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

Will very carefully does not look at Nico. His friend. “It – I think it’s happy with – with an orgasm,” he says, keeping his voice as steady as he can. “I don’t think there would be any way for it to determine whether there was actual – you know. Mating.”

A long silence, Will focusing determinedly on the swirly pattern of the carpet at his feet.

“And – couldn’t we satisfy that requirement – separately?” Nico asks in a small voice.

Will shakes his head. “I don’t think so. Not the way these processes usually work.”

“So the only way to finish this sooner would be –”

“Yeah,” Will whispers. He finally looks up.

The expression on Nico’s face is heartbreaking. Aching and conflicted. Nico opens his mouth. Closes it again.

“Obviously we don’t have to,” Will rushes to say. “There’s no – it won’t hurt us. Physically. To wait it out. There wouldn’t be any long-term effects.”

“It’s just – you’re my friend, Will. You’re my best friend,” Nico whispers.

Will feels tears spring to his eyes and gods, he wants so badly to close the distance between them, drag Nico him into a hug.

Tensing every muscle in his body, he stays where he is. “You’re my best friend, too,” he says, his voice rough.

“I honestly don’t know what I’d do. If I lost you,” Nico says. He sounds so sure, so earnest, even with his breath quickened, pupils blown wide.

“It’s okay,” Will croaks. “I get it. I know.”

Then, unthinking, because the itch is just so powerful, Will presses the heel of his hand to his aching dick, desperate for just a second of relief.

Nico’s eyes follow the motion and he takes in a soft gasp. “Fuck. Sorry,” he whispers, looking away.

Will’s eyes go wide. “No, I’m sorry –”

“I – I think I’m gonna take a shower. I just – I need a minute. And obviously we’re not leaving again tonight, so I might as well change into pjs.” Nico says all this very quickly. He turns jerkily, rummages in his backpack for a second and practically runs into the bathroom.

Will sinks to the couch in the corner. He leans back. Closes his eyes. He hears the bathroom door close, the click of the lock.

He wonders if Nico is going to attempt to take care of things on his own in there.

Oh gods, of course he is.

Will supposes he could do the same, while he’s got a few minutes of privacy. After all, he can’t think of any reason it would make things worse. But instead he sits very, very still. Breathes.

Finally, the bathroom door opens. Nico, clad in a band tee and sweats now, emerges in a cloud of steam. Will gives him a questioning look.

“Didn’t work,” Nico says shortly.

(chapter 3 here)

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thanks again to @rosyredlipstick for the beta!! <3

[the-little-ewok]

From the kissing prompts: “we didn't kiss each other good morning." with Poe please and thank you 🥺🥹

Pièce de rèsistance

Poe Dameron x G!N Reader

Rating : M

Wordcount : 2300 (ish)

Warnings : Cutesy cute fluff, body painting (kinda I guess 😂), lil bit of innuendo, kinda semi public make out, brief illusion/discussion on public sex (doesn't happen), rated M purely just for a lil sexual content.

Summary : You always kiss Poe good morning, but on the day you don't, he's going to make you pay the debt with interest.

A/N: yes I know X-Wing paint probably isn't safe to be on your skin. No I don't care. Let me live fanfiction how I like 😂

@dailyreverie - I hope you enjoy this silly little story!

Un-beta'd so sorry for the mistakes

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You squeak in shock, dropping your paintbrush to the ground as a pair of arms suddenly slip around your waist, relaxing when you hear a familiar chuckle from behind you.

"Good morning," Poe mumbles, burying his face in your neck as he cuddles you tightly against his chest.

"Good afternoon," you tease with a giggle, hugging his arms briefly, before you loosen his grip enough to turn and face him. His hair is still a ruffled mess, and there's stubble on his chin that tells he's thrown on some clothes and come straight to you from bed. Your heart flutters a little at the sweetness.

"You know you don't have to do this?" He gestures to his X-Wing that you'd been repainting for the morning, using whatever leftover paints you could find. After the latest battle the paintwork had taken some heavy damage, and since Poe didn't have time to do it himself, you had offered to fix it up for him, if only to stop his sad grimace everytime he looked at the ship. You were sure of two things in life, that Poe loved you, and that he might just love his ship a little more.

"I know but I'm enjoying it. It's kinda therapeutic," you shrug. "How's your day been? Well the bit you've been awake for," you tease with a grin.

Poe sighs, "not a great start to be honest. I woke up in an empty bed and realised we didn't kiss each other good morning."

He does a fairly good job of trying to look unhappy, which you are sure he probably is, at least a little bit, but there's a tiny twitch at the corner of his lips that tells you he's teasing.

"I seem to remember that's because you were still asleep. I think there's a word for people that do things when you're asleep," you wink at him and Poe gives a soft laugh, shaking his head.

"You should have woken me up," he complains with a pout. "I wouldn't have minded."

You snort with laughter.

"Now we both know that's not true! Have you ever met you when someone wakes you up? Maker, I'd rather face down the First Order alone."

"What are you talking about? I'm sure I'm absolutely delightful," Poe grins at you, clearly knowing full well he is not in any way delightful when his sleep is interrupted. Thankfully waking him wasn't something you had needed to do very often.

Whether it was for missions, strategy ideas he needed to note down, or more recently nightmares he couldn't stop, Poe was usually awake before you, no matter how early you woke up. Morning kisses had become somewhat of a routine, and if you were honest, you had missed that this morning. But Poe needed the sleep and so when you awoke to the pilot still dozing beside you, you had decided to allow him the rest. In fact, you had taken things a little further to make sure he would stay asleep for as long as he needed.

Poe had been working long into the night training new recruits, fixing resistance ships, trying to get them into some semblance of fighting condition again, and generally running himself into the ground. Almost every night for a week he had barely collapsed into bed before he was up again and back to it. The circles under his eyes had become worryingly dark, and no matter how many times you begged him to slow down and take a break, he insisted he couldn't.

So while the pilot was sleeping you had crept out of bed, and taken matters into your own hands to ensure he got a decent amount of sleep, at least for today.

Watching Poe fish out his watch from his pocket, the one he always puts on the nightstand when he comes to bed with his alarm set, you bite your lip nervously.

"I would have been awake but somehow I seem to have lost the battery from this. No idea how considering it would have had to come unscrewed, be removed and screw the back in again. Pretty impressive technology to do all that by itself without me noticing, don't you think?" He muses, holding it up between you.

"Poe," you start, ready to apologise and explain.

"I do feel better though now. I guess I really needed the extra couple of hours," he interupts with a soft smile. The worry dissipates just as quickly as it had coiled in your belly.

"You aren't mad?"

"Why would I be mad?" He gives you a purely boyish grin, raising an eyebrow. "Wait… you don't...you don't happen to know anything about this do you?"

You shake your head, "Nope. Absolutely nothing. Haven't touched it, haven't even seen it. When did you even get that? I've no idea what it is," you giggle, playing along.

Poe hums thoughtfully, regarding you with playful suspicion before he slides the temporarily useless watch back into his pocket.

"Well, if you do happen to see the battery anywhere, I would like it back, eventually."

You nod in confirmation, said battery suddenly feeling like it was burning a hole in your pocket. "Duly noted. I'll keep my eyes open,"

"Good," Poe nods, knowing he will find his watch magically fixed and back on the nightstand by tomorrow morning. "Now, I do need to address this kiss issue. You now owe me a kiss good morning, a kiss to say thank you for coming all the way across here to get the good morning kiss, a kiss to make up for missing the first kiss, and," he pauses, looking at his wrist to check his watch, before he remembers he isn't wearing it anymore. "I'm sure by the time we are done with those you'll owe me your afternoon missed you kiss."

"That's a lot of kisses all in one go." You sigh dramatically, giving him a serious look. "Do you think you can handle that all at once? I wouldn't want to overwhelm you."

Poe gives you a look of warning, one that tells you he'll be bringing that back up later, if only to prove how easily he can overwhelm you.

Taking your hand he all but drags you around the back of the X-Wing, where the noise of people coming and going seems more muted. It's nowhere near private, but it's about as private as you can get with the limited amount of time you have together.

"Up you go," he instructs, gesturing to the crates you had stacked into steps in order to reach the higher parts of the ship on this side. You blink at him in confusion, unsure if you've heard him correctly above the noise, but he simply gestures again for you to go up. Curiously you do as he asks, wondering what he's up to now.

Poe carefully follows until you reach the top. It isn't high but you notice Poe keeps one hand on your hip, just in case you do wobble.

When you reach the top he spins you to face him, before backing you up and pressing your back against the X-wing, pinning your body to the metal with his. Maker it sends heat flashing across your skin to have him so close. You realise this is why he wanted you up here, out of the way, unable to escape making the payment he demands.

"Kisses. Now."

"You're so cute when you're impatient," you giggle. Moving your hand to hold the side of his neck you pull his lips to yours, unable to wait any longer yourself.

You take your time with the kiss, kissing his top and bottom lip before you fully kiss him, your other hand slotting your fingers into the belt loops of his pants, holding him close. Poe pouts when you pull away before he's anywhere near enough of you.

"Good morning," you grin.

Before he has a chance to reply you press your lips to his a second time. This time you kiss him a little longer, but only long enough for him to run his tongue along your lower lip, seeking to deepen the kiss. You pull away with a devilish grin, ignoring his unimpressed look.

"I'm sorry you had to walk 60 yards to get your good morning kiss. Must be a terrible time for you with all those long steps across the yard," you tease sarcastically.

"Less talking, more paying kisses," Poe grumbles, his cheeks already flushed, his fingers digging into your hips as he grips you tightly. Along with Poe's long hours came the fact that you didn't have much awake time to spend together, and clearly it was starting to become a struggle for you both.

With a grin you drag his mouth back to yours, the kiss escalating faster this time, Poe's body pressing tighter against you. You kiss him hard this time, allowing your tongue to dip into his mouth, pulling a soft groan from the pilot who's turned to putty in your hands. You tangle your fingers in his curls and tug gently, causing him to nip your bottom lip in shock. He gets his revenge by slotting his thigh between your legs, making you gasp.

"Poe, people might see," you whimper against his mouth, desperately fighting back the urge to grind down against his leg.

"Let them see the consequences of missed kisses," he shrugs, staying exactly where he is. "Sooner you pay what's owed the sooner I might let you go."

You bite your lip, picking up on the might in his words. "What if I like being right here?"

Poe lets out a groan, pressing you harder against the ship. You're both breathing a little heavier now, your heart beating wildly in your chest.

"Don't tempt me. The extra hours sleep have given me a lot of energy," he whispers in your ear.

Oh well now you want nothing more than to tempt him, to drag his mouth to yours and let him devour you. But you know deep down now isn't the time, or the place.

Still, you can't quite quell the lustful thoughts that fill your mind.

"I owe you one more kiss," you offer temptingly.

"Trust me, I want to kiss you again so bad but if I do, I think the resistance is going to see a lot more of you than you want them to," Poe laughs softly, running his nose up the column of your neck as he holds you close. "Perhaps we need to keep a log and you can pay later?"

While you nod in agreement you still can't help stealing a quick kiss from him. It's nothing more than a fleeting brush of your lips against his, but Poe's smile lights up his face at the gesture. Both of you have missed the time to be close like this, to have the energy for this playfulness.

When he finally lets you step away from the ship, after another two quick kisses, he suddenly bursts out laughing. You frown, once more confused before he spins you around to see your own body print in the paint that has clearly not quite dried.

"Oh no!" You groan, reaching around to feel the wet paint on your back. Bringing your hand back around you see the black coating your fingers and let out a curse. "Shit. I'll have repaint it!"

"Leave it there," Poe grins, "It's very artistic." He tilts his head, as though admiring it like a painting. "Yeah, I like it. Especially this bit," he gestures to the perfect imprint of your ass against the ship.

"It looks a mess now," you sigh sadly. Your intention had been to make the ship look better, not worse.

"Actually, I was just thinking we could come back tonight and do your front on the other side," Poe shrugs. You feel heat creeping up your neck at his suggestion.

"Poe, you are not flying around with my body imprints on your ship!"

"Yeah," he nods entirely ignoring you, "maybe we could do them in a different colour? I'm sure we have some more orange paint laying around. Could paint all my favourite parts." He wriggles his eyebrows at you and you try not to laugh.

"Absolutely not!"

Poe sighs, resigned that you aren't enamoured by the idea of the entire resistance seeing you plastered against his ship, before he grins in an all too familiar, worrying way.

"What about if it was somewhere only I would see? Like the cockpit? Little bit of paint on some, select areas," he squeezes your ass making you jump with a squeak. "We could put it on the pilot's seat. Consider it interest for failing to pay your kisses on time."

You turn to stare at him as he wipes the paint he's gotten on himself from touching you, on the side of his pants, trying to work out if he's serious. He can't really want you to leave an imprint of your ass in his ship. But when he meets your gaze he's deadly serious and you burst into laughter. It's absolutely absurd that of all the tokens you could give him to travel with, that's what he wants.

"Is that a yes?" Poe laughs. "It'll be fun. I'll make it fun," he promises, his tone dropping to imply exactly the kind of fun he means.

You really should be considering how little the cockpit is, how uncomfortable it might be to squeeze you both in, how impractical his suggestion is, but the amusement is so bright in his eyes it obliterates anything else. You don't want to crush his little fantasy just yet, so you laugh with a nod.

"Alright Flyboy, you got a deal. Now go fetch me the paint so I can fix this." You gesture to the smudged mess of your imprint.

"One second," Poe pauses, staring at it hard "just committing it to memory."

You roll your eyes at him.

"If I push you off, I could say it was an accident," you threaten. Poe laughs looking down at the floor before back at you. He launches himself the crates, easily jumping down, landing gracefully on his feet and grinning up at you. He takes a dramatic bow, one that shouldn't be as cute as it is.

"By the way," he shouts as he disappears around the ship to retrieve your paint can, "you owe me another kiss for fetching you this."

Maker, at this rate you'll never get the job done

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Thanks for reading! Please consider reblogging and leaving a comment if you enjoyed! Remember your interaction keeps writers writing!

[dreadsuitsamus]

Daddy's Little Secret | Isshin Kurosaki x Reader |

part two

author's note: this idea has been in my head for a good while now, and i've finally decided to write it! there won't be much of a story in this, as i plan each chapter to be a sexual encounter between isshin and reader

pairing: isshin kurosaki x fem!reader

warnings: nsfw, no explicit smut but it is sexual and suggestive, masturbation, voyeurism, age gap, reader is a few years older than ichigo

“Are you sure this is okay, Ichigo?” You murmur as he leads you up the pathway of his home, the younger man carrying your bags for you. “I don't wanna just barge in… You haven't even asked your dad if it's cool—”

“Dad’s not gonna care.” Ichigo shakes his head. “He'd rather you stay on our couch than in your car on the street. It's okay. Just trust me.”

Sighing, you follow your friend inside and slip your shoes off politely. Your housing situation has hit a bit of a snag and you're officially, though hopefully temporarily, homeless. Ichigo's to the rescue as always, however, and was quick to give you a warm helping hand, just as he was when you first met him. Being a bartender is wonderful, but the drawbacks such as rowdy, creepy drunks tend to call for more forceful measures than your best holler can provide. Luckily for you, Ichigo has a helluva right hook and you've been friends ever since!

Setting your bags down, Ichigo starts a quick tour of the house. You've met his family before, as the bar you work for is also a restaurant, but you've never been to the Kurosaki household. It's surprisingly well-put together despite the chaotic relationship of Ichigo and his father, though it's likely due to Ichigo's younger sisters, if you had to guess.

“My dad's not home yet, but he should be here soon with my sisters.” Ichigo murmurs as he grabs some linens from the hall closet; tonight the couch will have to do for him, as he's a gentleman and will absolutely give up his room for you, but he'll arrange to stay with his sweet girl Orihime for a little while starting tomorrow. He's not looking forward to it: how his father naps on that lumpy, uncomfortable old couch so easily is a mystery!

“Thank you, Ichigo.” You murmur softly. “I'll try to get out of your hair soon.”

Your friend merely waves a hand and sets the sheet and blankets on the arm of the couch before grabbing the remote and turning the television on. The mind-numbing cartoon isn't performing for you, however, as your heart thrums in anticipation. Ichigo's father, Isshin Kurosaki, doesn't seem like he'd mind your presence, but the worry remains. You know you'd certainly have some feelings about such an unexpected guest!

Your poor heart nearly pops when the sound of voices at the front door get louder upon entry, and Ichigo stands to meet his family, lest his father say or do something embarrassing before you've even been announced. Yuzu rushes to her older brother's arms as Karin spots you, perking a thin brow. Ichigo doesn't tend to bring friends home, especially not since he started college.

“What's up?” She cuts her eyes to her older brother, and Ichigo explains more to Isshin, who is oddly quiet, rather than Karin.

“She needs a place to stay for a little while.”

Isshin nods, turning to look at you. He's as handsome as ever, his stubble grown out a tad more than it was the last time you'd seen him at the bar, and his smile is gorgeous and polite, though you can't escape the feeling of it being more muted than you're used to. “Stay as long as you need to. Any friend of Ichigo's is always welcome here.”

“Thank you, sir.” Your cheeks warm, relief washing down your shoulders. Gazing at your wrist to check the time, you sigh softly. “I’ve got to get ready for my shift tonight.”

“I'll walk you to your car.” Ichigo offers, and waits patiently as you wash up and change into your uniform. Isshin settles onto the couch beside his only son, thumbing at the stack of linens to be used for his temporary bed tonight.

“You know I don't mind taking in your friend.” He starts, voice low in the event you come downstairs and overhear him. “I just would've appreciated a heads up.” Unsaid is that he would've used that advance notice to fix his hair up before you saw him, and perhaps undone a button or two on his shirt.

“Sorry, Dad.” Ichigo murmurs. “Her roommate dropped the bomb on her last night that she had to leave. We spent all day moving her things to a storage unit.”

Isshin rubs at his chin, gently tugging at the bit of stubble. He's gotta shave tonight, he thinks. “You givin’ your room up?”

“Yeah.”

Isshin claps his hand on his son's shoulder. He's raised a good man, one that he's incredibly proud of! He squeezes for a brief moment before pulling away just as you come downstairs, dressed in your simple work uniform. High-waisted jeans and a t-shirt with the bar’s name splashed over the front and tucked into your waistband make for a pretty sight, especially with the low cut that provides Isshin with a hearty eyeful of cleavage. It's what deters him from visiting your bar more often; his daughters don't need to see how much their pervy father longs to faceplant in between your breasts.

Ichigo and his father stand and your eyes flit to gaze at the older man. “I’ll be back around 2:30. I'll be quiet, I promise!”

“You couldn't wake Dad if you tried.” Ichigo deadpans. Isshin's cheeks warm at your giggles, and he tackles Ichigo to the ground. Embarrassing his own father right in front of an absolute babe??? Unforgivable!

“Dad, come on!” Karin shouts, scrambling to intervene now. With a guest over??? Her dad has lost his mind!

Grinning softly at the madness, Karin having been sucked into the wrestling while Yuzu rushes in with a broom to smack at them all, the heels of your boots click on the hardwood as you head for the door. Your stay here certainly won't be dull!

With a sigh, you tiredly park your car outside of the Kurosaki home. Work was rough, and nothing sounds more wonderful than a hot shower and some rest, and maybe even a sandwich if you can stay awake long enough.

You're met at the door by Isshin, who presses a gentle finger over his lips as the sounds of Ichigo's snores ring out. Laughing softly as the older man winks, you slip your boots off at the door. “You're up pretty late.”

“Insomnia.” Isshin shrugs casually and follows you up the stairs, shamelessly staring at your ass the whole way up. “Heard your car pull up. Wanted to make sure you got in safely.”

“Ah.” At the top of the landing, you pause for a moment with Isshin just across from you, his henley and plaid pajama pant combo somehow striking. Perhaps batting your lashes more than you should be at a friend's father, you lick your lips, teeth slowly dragging along the flesh of your bottom lip. “Thank you, Mr. Kurosaki.”

“Isshin. After hours, anyway.” He tucks his hands in his pockets with a shrug, perking a brow at the embarrassing admission from your stomach. “Hungry, hm?”

Cheeks fiery and the tip of your nose and ears burning, you duck your head. “Mm… A little. Ichigo and I had some lunch earlier, but that's all I had to eat. Besides a few fries at the bar, anyway.” And an iced coffee to start the morning!

Isshin shakes his head. “Girl dinner.” He grumbles with a scoff and an eye roll— he's treated too many women that hardly eat at all and then complain about headaches! Turning to start back down the steps, Isshin waves a hand. “I’ll warm up the dinner leftovers.”

Covering your mouth to hide a giggle, you venture into Ichigo's bedroom and rifle around your messily packed suitcases for a fresh pair of panties and pajamas. Exhaustion weighs down your bones and a big yawn leaves you damn near spent, though you power through enough to grab a thong and a tank top to get you through the night. Everyone should be out of the house by the time you wake up to start your day, so the worries of anyone catching a peek of your cheeks don't settle.

Rubbing your tired eyes as the shower warms, you sigh with pleasure as the hot water spreads and soothes the ache between your shoulders. Life has been nothing but stressful lately, this recent move only the cherry on top the shitshow mountain. College is hard, work is unfulfilling and the tip money only barely covers the bills, and your sex life has tanked.

Thinking about sex as you run the soapy washcloth over your breasts probably isn't the best idea, but it doesn't stop your other hand from the pinches and tugs of your nipples to relieve some of the pressure. Leaning against the shower wall, your teeth dip into your lip as your fingers do a bit of walking. It's nothing but a tease, a shallow dipping of your fingers to feel the wetness gathering between your folds. A few soft, breathy gasps pass beyond the thin curtain that veils you, but the man with perceptive brown eyes in the hall pushes the door open just a tad wider than you'd left it to peer into that gap.

Isshin smirks softly, licking his lip as he watches you touch yourself. He's wanted a piece of you since he first saw you, as forbidden of an idea as that is. You're his son's friend! He can't. Even if you wanted to, and he thinks you do, it can't happen. That's a line he can't cross… He's too old for you, anyway.

Though as he watches you slowly rub your clit and toy with your breasts, he's sure that this old dog could show you the best night of your life. With a wistful sigh and a firm squeeze to his cock, Isshin heads downstairs before he's caught perving and fixes your plate of dinner properly.

Biting your lip through a grin, you're quickly out of the shower and drying off before Isshin's back upstairs. Of course that old man's the type to peep in on a young woman's shower! You laid the trap and he walked right into it— what a typical doofus of a man.

You've just slipped into your thong when you hear Isshin moving upstairs again, and you purposely ditch the tank top in favor of looping the towel over your shoulders, your breasts just barely covered by the blue cotton as Isshin turns the corner with a warm plate of food in hand and heads for Ichigo's bedroom.

Two gentle taps of his knuckle on the bedroom door are all you get before he's letting himself in, and for a moment he falters at the sight of you. He really should have taken that melatonin tonight… You're before him in a skimpy thong with only a teeny tiny towel over your breasts, and he has to act like he's fine. Like he's not ready to pounce and pound you into pure oblivion. He can't.

This being a father thing is so damn difficult!

Finding the pause cute and the dumb look on Isshin's face even cuter, you smirk gently and approach him with a swish in your hips. His Adam's apple bobs when you're so close to him he can see the few beads of water on your collarbone, and fuck he wants to lick them away and leave a bite or two…

“Something on your mind?” You practically purr at him, and aren't you just awful! Flirting with your friend's father, the one with a dead wife and three kids he's had to raise by his lonely…

Carefully, the man licks his lips and forces himself to look you in the eye, and frankly he's not sure if that pretty face is making his little problem in his pants any better. “No.”

Reaching up, the backs of your fingers gently graze over the side of his face. “That's a shame… Would've loved to hear all about it. I'm sure you've got some… Interesting ideals.”

A growl forms at the back of Isshin's throat, low and deep and the glint in your eye at the sound just makes him want to tug that towel off and—

Well, now you've gone and done that part for him.

Dropping the towel to the floor, you rub Isshin's jaw, his beard noticeably trimmed down to the way he usually likes it. “You shaved. It looks nice.”

“Just nice?” Isshin sets the plate on the desk, his fingers itching to touch your supple skin as he loops them around the thin bands of your thong, his thumbs rubbing the silky fabric. “Not sexy? Ravishing, even? How about a place you'd like to sit?”

A chuckle bubbles in your chest alongside the fireworks going off inside. The door's wide open and it's three in the morning, any of his kids are liable to get up and use the bathroom at any time! Pressing your hands to his chest, you find him firmer than you thought he'd be. “What makes you think I need something like that from you?”

Isshin clicks his tongue, snapping your thong against your skin as you softly push him away. “My bad for assuming. I just thought with, you know, the way you touched yourself in the shower that you've been a bit pent up.” With a wink and a shit-eating grin, Isshin's closing the door behind him and heading back to his bedroom.

Goosebumps litter your body, and that sly little smile doesn't leave your lips even after you've finished eating and settle in for bed. It's been one night and you've already nearly fucked your friend's father— it's not a matter of if now. Just when.

And will you be able to hide it from Ichigo?

[levilaughlove]

-ˋˏI'm not exactly lovable.-ˋˏ

↳ notice: ghost x male reader. fujoshi's / females / she/her/she they/she it *anything w/ she* do not interact. this is not for you. this genre is fluff/smut. (sexual theme warning now)

▌▌▌quick summary, m/n is a large man (about as big as ghost) who was formerly part of a much more dangerous regiment and has many physical and emotional scars. (people were hella rude) ghost wants to be sure those feelings are melted. for good. ▌▌▌

You never viewed yourself as much of an attractive man. Naturally, you picked up on the cruel words of those who didn't appreciate your over 10 years of service and these years weren't your last. Meeting Ghost was one of the few moments of happiness that happened to you through all your years. You two made friends quickly and soon, lovers.

Today was one of those days where you really sat in your feelings instead of shadowing them and instead, endure them. There you were, in a dark bed chamber, lit by a very dim grey light and a couple shocks of lightning here and there. The rain was as heavy as the hot tears flowing down your face as you cried quietly. You back turned to the door. Soon, the door was creaking open. "M/n." It called. Low and coarse. Familiar.

Yes, it was Ghost. "M/n, you sleep?" His voice rang again, this time in question. You tried to contain the sniffles and used the rough Velcro straps on your gloves to stubbly wipe your tears in hope to not make much movement. The footsteps of heavy boots approach you, stopping right behind you. A hand reaches out and flips you off your side and onto your back, revealing your teary face. "Hey, what's the matter?" Ghost said, clearly worried.

"I don't know. It's silly." You coo'd, gloomy. "Obviously not." Ghost said more stern. He sat you upright then sat next to you, feet off the bed. "What's the matter? You can tell me anything." He said, placing a hand on your shoulder. You break down again, unable to quickly build up that wall of defense you knew so well. Ghost leaned down to your head, now buried in your knees. He sighed. "I just want you... to be happy." "You are never, ever, happy."

You raise your head again and he follows. Looking him into the eyes you say, "I guess i'm just..." "I'm not exactly lovable." ----"Says fucking who?" Ghost says upset. "The very people I fought for." You say, taking off those uncomfortable gloves.

"Here? What are their names?" "No. Back home.." You quickly clarify. "Those people.." Ghost says, lifting his mask from the bottom and approaching your neck. Kiss. "No longer..." Kiss. "Matter." "Mm..Ghost." You moan lightly. "Right now, it's you and I." Ghost says reassuringly.

He began towering you, slowly removing your shorts, then briefs & his own. He left the top on. He wants to fuck you in it.

You belong here.

He began rubbing your cocks together, the precum making a sloshing noise. "Ghhh...agh.." Your sweet noises almost made Ghost cum alone. Ghost gently flipped you on your stomach. Rubbing his cock in-between your ass. He pulled you up to his chest, your head resting on his shoulder. "You're not going to...." You look up. "Hell yes I am." He says grabbing your hands by your elbows and caging your legs up to your chest.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck..." You mumble, knowing this one thrust will send the air out of your lungs.

Ghost raises your body and slams you back down with force.

Just as you anticipated, your lungs + air ain't a thing no more.

He rammed you endlessly. You're pretty sure you're screaming but you can't hear anything over Ghosts loud and dominating grunts.

You feel it ramming into your soft flesh. Tears falling from your face, screaming, telling him how you'll never say things like that again.

Finally, your balls tighten, so does your grip on his cock from the inside. "Ghost I'M!----"Cum."

And with that, you spray cum all over the pillows and bedsheets. It was so pornographic, Ghost coming right after, overstimming himsef & you. Finally he stopped. He didn't pull out though,

He pressed a kiss to your teary cheek.

"You are beyond lovable. You are celestial."

[ghoultrifle]

There's a First Time For Everything Chapter 3 - Pleasure As It Was Intended

WC: 5k

Previously on FTFE: Dewdrop wants to try penetration. He has a few toys in mind but struggles to get the courage to buy them, fearing it will invalidate his gender. With Rain's support, he finally purchases the toys.

Summary: The toys arrive and Dewdrop gets to work, after a quick hyping up from Swiss

Notes: I am incredibly proud of this chapter and hope you all like it as much as I do. It's my first time writing porn with feelings so please hype me up :')

CWs: Sexual content, toys, gender dysphoria

And a big thanks to @v-ternus for being my sounding board <3

Read below the cut or on AO3

Dewdrop hears a knock, a brief rap on his bedroom door. He glances at the clock that sits crooked above his desk, mail time, he thinks. Peering through the peephole he can see Special walking away, making his way through the ghoul dorms, stopping occasionally to drop a parcel.

A small, nondescript box sits outside Dewdrop’s door. Imposing, menacing. It’s been carelessly thrown to the ground, evidenced by the rugged angle it sits at. He’s… angry. Angry that it’s been treated with such disregard; the contents of what must be assumed by Special to be another bong, or perhaps a new outfit, merely chucked outside his door like it has no significance to the fire ghoul.

The parcel quickly finds its way inside Dew’s room as he removes it from the doorstep with the same care as one might handle a bomb. He treats it like it’s a feral cat, holding it by the scruff of its neck lest it bite him. Inside the box, as far as Dewdrop’s concerned, are the items that determine if he’s worthy as a ghoul. That if they don’t end up inside him by the end of the day, he’ll be a failure.

Dewdrop decides he won’t let it get on top of him, he can’t afford to, doesn’t quite trust himself to sit alone all day with the parcel. So he throws himself into his duties. A couple of hours with Mount helping him re-pot his ever-growing plants. Lunch with Cirrus, Dewdrop laying in her lap as they watch some shitty reality show.

He spends the afternoon with Swiss, supposedly for band practice, but that never happens when it’s just the two of them scheduled. Sure, they do some practise but it’s mostly Dew dicking around with his guitar as Swiss vocalises with the disjointed sounds. They’ve been at it for a few hours when Dewdrop’s mind fades back to the parcel, still unwrapped, waiting for him on his bed.

“Howdoyouusesextoys?” Dewdrop blurts out.

Swiss isn’t sure he heard right, there’s no way Dewdrop doesn’t have a kinky treasure trove full of toys. “Woah woah slow down cowboy! What did you say?”

He’s met with another mumbled string of sounds that vaguely sounds like it mentions toys. It’s Dewdrop’s demeanour that leaves Swiss worried, though. The ghoul that minutes ago he was having to wrestle the guitar off as he played some shitty meme song, now taking shaky, uneven breaths and avoiding eye contact like Swiss is Medusa.

“Hey, droplet, I’m not teasing you, I just need to hear what you said… I can’t help you if I don’t know what you want,” Dewdrop opens his eyes, tries to take deep breaths. But deep breaths don’t help when it feels like he’s suffocating. He feels a grounding palm smooth over his stubble, sees those big golden eyes shining back with nothing but love for him, he remembers why he chose Swiss.

He inhales, looking away briefly to ask, “Bought sex toys for Rain to use on me. Dunno what to expect, I guess. Thought you might know,” the room is still as both ghouls take in what Dewdrop just said, before he remembers to clarify, “They’re uh internal toys like dildos ‘n vibrators ‘n shit. I’ve never put anything up there before, figured a whore like you would’ve though,” he chuckles, trying to lighten the mood as Swiss stares on in a mixture of confusion and offence.

“Ohh I see, come to the resident slut for advice? Well you’ve come to the right place. Whatcha worried about? We both know Rain’s been around, it’s not like he doesn’t know what to do.”

“No, I know Rain’s gonna be fine with it, it’s me that’s worried. What if it feels weird or if it hurts or if I like it so much I detransition?”

“What if?” Swiss poses, something Dewdrop hadn’t considered, what if? “You and I know full well Rain won’t do anything if you’re not enjoying it.”

“Swiss!” Dewdrop groans in frustration, dragging out the ‘s’ at the end of his name, “I just wanna, you know,” he motions vaguely at nothing with his hands, “get some pointers, some tips?”

“Well you’re right, they do have tips!” They both laugh at Swiss’ poor attempt at humour, “I do faintly remember the first time I used a dildo, if you wanna know about that?” he asks. It’s becoming clearer that Dewdrop just wants assurance that it’s going to be alright, even though he knows in his heart that it will be. The multi ghoul receives a sheepish nod in return.

“Alright, well I was on my own so all I had was ‘ol faithful to warm me up, get me nice and open,” he smirks, doing jazz hands showcasing his thick fingers, “I really took my time getting myself nice and wet. I was pre-T so there wasn’t much to get hold of but I did the best I could, really stroking myself until I was basically leaking. Then I just lubed Glenda up and put her in, wasn't much resistance. I played aroun-”

“Hold up, your dildo’s named Glenda?!”

Swiss scoffs, “What about it? I’m not the one that’s too scared to put Glenda in my pussy,” it’s all in good humour, they both know it. And hearing about Swiss talk so honestly about it has put Dewdrop at ease. He feels like he can laugh now, like he can breathe again, deep breaths full of all life has to offer. “Anyway, I played around with the angles until it hit that fucking dynamite spot, you’ll know it when you hit it,” Swiss promises, a smile creeping across his face as he reminisces, “and the rest was history. A lil bit of thrusting here and some stroking there and I came so hard I cried,” he deadpans, as if he’s not recounting a story of him masturbating.

“Seriously, spitfire, you’ll love it, I’m sure,” and it’s all Dewdrop can do to pray to Satan below that Swiss is right.

Dinner runs without a hitch, Dewdrop eats a respectable amount for a guy so nervous about his imminent gut-rearranging. And more importantly, he thinks he’s managed to keep it a secret, Rain still doesn’t know the toys have arrived. The water ghoul is living in blissful ignorance to the sweet, tender sex that will follow their usual post-dinner makeout session. That for the first time, Dewdrop will be an active recipient of pleasure, and he’ll enjoy it; at least that’s what he hopes.

It starts as it does most nights, Rain playing footsie with Dewdrop, sliding his scaly foot up and down the fire ghoul’s shin, making those dumb heart eyes at him. Dewdrop swears if Rain was a cartoon, his eyes would spend half the time booming out from their sockets in adoration for his mate, it’s endearing really. Following their adolescent flirting, Rain excuses the pair of them from the already emptying table; if the way Aurora looks at Cumulus is anything to go by, they’re not the only ones with evening plans.

They get as far as the dorm corridor before Dewdrop boxes Rain against the cold, stone wall. The taller ghoul freezes, a forward move from Dewdrop. He can’t quite bring himself to move when Dew begins to mouth at his neck, angling for Rain to bend down and kiss him. Instead he basks in the heat on his jaw as Dewdrop sinks his teeth into Rain’s pale flesh. He moans and the vibrations in his throat only further encourage the shorter ghoul.

“What’s gotten into you, spitfire? Normally you can at least wait until we’re back at yours,” Rain asks as he brings a hand down to knead at Dewdrop’s barely-there ass.

Between sucking and bruising the ghoul’s neck, Dewdrop speaks up, “Hyping myself up.”

“For…?”

“Toys,” Dewdrop whispers, seductive yet laced with a tinge of worry.

Before leaving that morning, Dewdrop had the foresight to at least unpackage and clean the toys, even he was smart enough to know that cleaning toys is a real mood killer, especially for a ghoul already on edge about the whole thing. If there was anything that Dewdrop could prepare for in advance, he was going to do it.

So, laying bare to the world on his bedside table were the toys, sitting proud. Rain didn’t notice them immediately, too focused on the fire ghoul attached to his neck, trying to manoeuvre them into Dewdrop’s room without either of them tripping or stepping on each other. They catch his eye as his mate backs him up towards the bed until his knees give, ungracefully stumbling onto the mattress. Hurried hands fly between them to undress each other. Dewdrop’s fingers filled with nervous energy, struggling with his jeans and Rain, the ever helpful boyfriend gently undoing the button and sliding them down, taking in Dewdrop’s form, just a binder and boxer briefs now. “Fuck he’s handsome,” Rain thinks, verbalising his thoughts to the grinning ghoul above him.

“Wanna use ‘em on me? Was thinking get the dildo out the way tonight?”

“Fuck can’t wait baby, gonna make you feel so good. How do you want to do this?”

Dewdrop answers with a gentle push to Rain’s shoulders, settling him down in the middle of the bed before shedding his underwear and climbing atop the water ghoul, back to chest. The weight of Dewdrop is really nothing to complain about, spread over Rain’s body, it’s barely uncomfortable, more of a weighted blanket if he had to compare it. Besides, if it’s what his droplet wants, he’ll be damned if he doesn’t give him exactly that.

With him, Dewdrop brings the toys, laying them carefully by Rain’s hip alongside a bottle of lube. Once settled, he takes a moment. What for, he isn’t really sure. Maybe to calm himself down, but he feels an odd sense of relief, of readiness. He isn’t scared anymore. He wants it to happen, he’s excited even. Perhaps that’s why he’s slowed down, to appreciate and bask in the feeling.

As he lays on Rain, his golden hair resting perfectly on the water ghoul’s neck, Rain lifts his head up to meet Dewdrop’s scalp pressing long kisses into it. “So proud of you baby,” he whispers between them, hand idly thumbing the silicone toy by his side. Rain was truly happy with the idea that Dewdrop would never try penetration, he was content to live out their lives as they were. With that, he could sense Dewdrop’s hesitation, how he became disengaged during sex if Rain’s hand ever veered too low. But the way he acted didn’t seem to be fear, no, Dewdrop’s face would turn pensive, as if he were pondering what if? A poignant question the fire ghoul now knew the answer to. Well perhaps not the answer, but he’s certain he’s explored his feelings enough to know he wants it and he wants it now.

The binder still clinging to his chest is becoming uncomfortable at best with how Dewdrop’s sweating at Rain’s sweet words of encouragement and that familiar cold hand roaming his stomach. It’s itchy and riding up at the bottom but he doesn’t care, he’s too caught up in the moment, something he doesn’t think he’s ever experienced. To not be hyper aware of every sensation but instead to be dialled in on a specific feeling, it’s bliss.

Against him, Dewdrop can feel Rain pulsing, leaking onto the small tuft of hair at the small of his back. It feels odd, to be the one selflessly experiencing pleasure, Rain gladly putting aside his own needs in favour of pleasing his mate.

“My sweet baby boy, I can feel you leaking, may I?” Rain asks, bringing deft fingers to Dewdrop’s entrance, hovering, waiting for permission. Dewdrop need only bring his hand over Rain’s before the water ghoul gently swipes over his folds, bringing his slick-soaked hand to his mouth. “Oh Dewdrop you taste divine. Thank you for sharing this part of you with me.”

It’s not even an attempt at dirty talk but it makes Dewdrop’s stomach jump nonetheless. He’s finally starting to believe Rain loves him as he is. While Rain is preoccupied salivating over the taste of the fire ghoul, Dewdrop flicks open the cap on the lube as he squirts a generous amount onto the head of the light purple toy

“Would you do the honour?” Dewdrop asks weakly, offering the slicked up toy to the water ghoul.

“Want to let you have this moment Dewdrop,” Rain replies, this is Dewdrop’s journey, he’s just along for the ride. Dewdrop teases his entrance, letting the purple head get even wetter as he drags it along his folds, collecting slick as small whines escape his lips. It once again surprises him how at ease he feels. After years of turmoil, worrying that he’s faking it all, he’s never felt as sure of his identity as he does in this moment.

“Whenever you’re ready droplet”, Rain coos, placing chaste kisses on Dewdrop’s neck. And with that Dew pushes in, slowly but steadily moving the toy until his hand lies flush with his skin. It’s an odd feeling, a completely new, foreign sensation but it doesn’t feel wrong. Far from it. It brings with it an overwhelming sense of familiarity too, an instinctual need. He knows exactly what to do. It’s not rocket science, Dewdrop knows this, but he’s still taken aback by just how easy it feels. It’s with that realisation he cautiously begins to pump the cock in and out of his dripping cunt.

As Dewdrop lay atop Rain, knees bent and feet planted on the mattress, the fire ghoul finds a respectable rhythm, butterflies in his stomach every time he thrusts the silicone deep inside him. He can’t believe he’s put it off for so long, denying himself divine pleasure. Filling the room along with the slick sounds of Dewdrop fucking himself are the sweet words of encouragement spilling from Rain’s lips like a burst dam.

“So proud of you, droplet, can hear just how much you like it.”

“That’s it, keep going, fuckkkk just like that.”

“Feel how hard you’re making me? Shit- that’s all you, spitfire. You and your insatiable body, such a good boy.”

The words imprint themselves on Dewdrop’s brain, burned in forever. Rain’s not telling him how pretty he is or groping his chest, he’s appreciating Dewdrop for exactly who he is, a man. And for once, he’s not jealous that Rain has a dick, doesn’t spite him for it. Because he, too, is experiencing pleasure and he got it all wrong, he doesn’t need a penis for that. Sure it would be nice but right now he feels pretty fucking incredible. Rain’s words have such an effect on Dewdrop that he’s becoming too worked up to keep a steady rhythm, the stimulation is too much to concentrate on keeping it going. He crooks his head back, asking silently, and Rain just knows what he wants.

The dildo changes hands, Rain now in charge of Dewdrop’s pleasure, entrusted with making the fire ghoul feel good, and boy does he deliver. Pressing pretty kisses to Dewdrop’s neck, his hand fumbles for the toy. The transition is near seamless and Dew melts. It felt good before but shit Rain knows what he’s doing, angling it just right to make Dewdrop cry out a choked moan- Swiss was right, Dew did know when he hit that spot. The spot that makes his stomach churn in the best way as he listens to the slick nosies and the sound of Rain’s skin slapping against his inner thigh as he pumps Dewdrop full.

He’s writhing on Rain’s tense body now, hips canting towards the stimulation, rocking into the water ghoul’s cock, smearing pre against the small of his back. Dewdrop can’t bring himself to care about the torture he must be inflicting upon his mate. He’s been so selfless all these years, he’s giving himself tonight to be completely selfish about his needs.

His orgasm starts to build and he vocalises, “Oh fuck I- I think I’m close fuck please don’t stop. Please. Keep going. Fuck. Rain. Ah. Keep-” Rain shushes him to give his permission. Not that Dewdrop needed it, but to let the fire ghoul know Rain’s not going anywhere.

“Lean into it darling, let go for me. Such a good boy, taking it so well. So proud of you, baby,” and with those words Dewdrop is clenching around the toy as his cunt spasms and he whines high and reedy, uncaring about pitching his voice lower, he doesn’t need to perform for anyone, not right now, anyway. Rain can feel Dewdrop’s release coating the toy in such copious amounts it’s running off and onto the water ghoul’s digits. 

Dripping onto his balls, Rain can feel just how wet Dewdrop is as slick gushes out of his hole. Rain wants nothing more than to gather his boy’s slick and jack himself to an almighty climax, but not tonight. There’ll be plenty of nights for that to happen. Tonight is all about Dewdrop. Rain would truly be happy to never cum again if it meant Dewdrop could finally live in pleasure instead of pain. Rain’s had his good times, he’s lived his life; Dewdrop’s is only just starting.

Dewdrop’s still in a state of awe. He did it. He got off. On just internal stimulation. A feat he truly never believed he’d be able to do, despite his years-long curiosity about it (okay, the base of the dildo relentlessly hitting his clit might have been part of it, but still, it’s all connected, right?). As he comes down from the first high of the night, Rain babbles nothing but praise, eager for his love not to drop after such an intense high. He knows how easy it would be- post nut clarity is no joke and Dewdrop’s worked himself up about this so much, it wouldn’t take a lot for him to spiral. To feel that shame creeping up, enveloping him in a thick coat of inescapable humiliation at him, a man, enjoying being fucked like a woman. So Rain doesn’t let it happen, showering him with enough praise to make anyone blush, rocking his dick against Dewdrop every so often to remind him that he’s desirable.

Hair sticks to Dewdrop’s face as he pants, still overcome with euphoria from the intensity of his orgasm. He suddenly feels himself clenching around nothing, opening his eyes to see the toy in Rain’s hand. Fuck- it’s dripping in cum and oh Rain’s bringing it up towards them, past Dewdrop’s face and he’s moaning as he takes it hungrily in his mouth, to the hilt, moaning into it. “Wanted to test the theory it taste even sweeter after the event, my love,”

“And…?” Dewdrop probes.

“What do you think, droplet?” The water ghoul smirks, brining the toy to Dewdrop’s swollen lips, “See for yourself.”

A tentative tongue makes its way to the tip of the dildo giving an exploratory lick. It’s not nice per se but there’s something about being able to taste his own release that makes it that much nicer. Still, he’s not sure it tastes divine but perhaps Rain is really that in love with him.

“Ready for round two?” Dewdrop questioned, a grin adorning his blissed out face.

“Fuck- really? Anything for you, Dewdrop. How do you want it? Want me to pump you full again, or I could eat you out? Perhaps you-”

“-m not ready for you to touch me there yet I don’t think, sorry,” he blurts out and Rain’s heart sinks. Not at Dewdrop’s sentiment but that he feels sorry for it.

“My spitfire, that’s more than okay. You don’t ever have to be ready, this is already more than I ever imagined we’d do together. Satan, I’m so lucky to have you. Want to try the vibe instead?”

And just like that, Dewdrop’s inspecting the vibrator, hands travelling over the plane of the toy, feeling the ridges before testing the mechanism. Slowly twisting the dial at the bottom, wondering if it’s broken until- buzz. It’s intense, the blood being drained from his fingers as the toy throbs in his hand.

“Easy, Dewbug, we’ll start off slow and build up to that. Trust me, I know what I’m doing,” and Dewdrop does trust him. It’s finally sinking in that Rain truly does have Dewdrop’s best interests at heart.

Dewdrop spreads his legs once more, cool air hitting his clit despite it being almost hidden beneath his curls. He clenches on instinct, cringing when he feels another glob of his release make its way to the pool collecting on Rain’s lithe body. It surprises him. He doesn’t feel disgust or shame at his body’s response to the fucking incredible action of Rain’s hand, he feels proud he was able to cum for Rain, to be a good boy.

“Fuck baby, still leaking, huh? So good for me,” Rain whispers.

With that, Dewdrop hears the familiar rumble of the vibrator. A sleek, black thing, phallic in size but not in aesthetic. The mechanical whir fills the room, though it’s not as overbearing as when Dewdrop cranked the dial all the way, it’s a more subtle hum.

Rain hesitates, bringing a hand up to rest on Dewdrop’s stomach, “Droplet, can I touch you?” he asks.

“You just fucked me silly with a dildo, of course you can do it with the vibe,” Dewdrop replies, enamoured by his mate but slightly confused nonetheless.

“I mean- your uhm chest, Dewdrop. Want to feel your heart beat as I take you apart.”

He ponders, the purr of the motor a backdrop to his thoughts. It’s not like Rain would see his chest, or even really feel it, hidden behind the thick wall of his binder. And thinking about it, even if he did, Dewdrop’s not sure he’d mind. Rain’s carved out their time together as a place for Dewdrop to truly be himself. The offer has always been there to not bind, to raise his voice back to its natural pitch, Rain made it unequivocally clear that he doesn’t mind. But Dewdrop always has, until now.

A small nod accompanied with a hushed yes is all Rain needs to start. After years of spending almost every waking moment together, Rain knows when his mate is being sincere. Enthusiastic consent is the only consent is a great general rule but their connection goes deeper. The non-verbal signs, the way Dewdrop’s breathing steadies when he feels safe and his eyes search for Rain’s to ground himself. The way his eyes scrunch and his lips curl up almost imperceptibly when he’s around Rain. It’s not apprehension, it’s nervous excitement about experiencing yet another new sensation, even if it is through the plate of his binder. And Dewdrop knows Rain would never go further than he wants, not without explicitly asking. So he lies there safe in the knowledge that creeping fingers won’t find their way under the hem of his binder, but will freely roam atop it, mapping out Dewdrop’s contours.

Whimpers accompany Rain’s renewed movement, vibrator making feather light touches to Dewdrop’s dick as his other hand plants itself over the fire ghoul’s chest, the wide span covering him almost entirely. It’s like being jacked off by The Flash, the plastic beating down on his clit with an unrelenting pace while Rain keeps his hand steady, letting the toy do all the work. Moans fill the room as Dewdrop squirms atop Rain.

“Does it feel good, baby? Yeah? Keep making those noises for me, fuck.”

All the apprehension, the years of turmoil, only for Dewdrop to be a whimpering, writhing mess within an hour of getting his (and Rain’s) hands on himself. It’s funny really, in hindsight. And he’s glad he can finally indulge himself in these fantasies, that his mind allows him to enjoy himself.

With that thought, Rain’s deft hand cranks the dial, the buzz turning to a roar as the vibrator near shakes under Rain’s digits. Bringing it back down to Dewdrop’s clit, the fire ghoul shouts, “Oh fuck Rainy- shit- I- awgh- so much- I,” he’s trembling under Rain’s touch, hips bucking into the vibe, desperate to get off on the stimulation that’s both far too much and not enough.

The hand on Dewdrop’s chest begins to roam, firm touches tracing his body, committing it to memory. The first time of many, Rain’s sure, if the wanton moans leaving Dewdrop’s lips are any measure to go by. His hands brush over the light smattering of hair on Dew’s stomach and Satan below Rain wants to worship Dewdrop’s body forever, remind him each and every time just how fucking hot he is. It would be an endless back and forth of Rain smothering him in compliments and Dewdrop not believing a word. But perhaps with enough time, he’d come around.

Rain’s hands continue their ministrations as the squirming ghoul above him becomes louder with each circle of the vibrator around his dick. The water ghoul is just about to check in when Dewdrop interrupts him, “Close! Ah- shit- I’m about to cum- please- don’t stop- just like th- ahh fuck,” he hisses. It only spurs Rain on, increasing the pressure and finally turning the vibe up to the maximum intensity. Drawing circles around his clit, occasionally dipping below to gather Dewdrop’s pre and cum from his first orgasm. The slick noises that fill the room, combined with the insane amount of stimulation Dewdrop’s receiving, have him spilling almost instantly with a cry, “-m cumming, fuck Rainy thankyouthankyouthankyou fucking ahh.”

A minute passes, at most, before Rain is turning down the dial and smoothing his hand over Dewdrop’s binder, fixing it’s twisted state on his chest. Sure that his mate is finally satiated, now is definitely the time to make sure his mental state doesn’t drop in that post-orgasm haze. Cum-drunk is the best way to describe Dew, a wide smile on his face, eyes barely open, and chest heaving as he recovers from one of, if not the most, intense orgasms of his life.

“How are you feeling, droplet? You were so good, took it all so well.”

“I feel… like I want to go again. Want you to fill me up, fuck, that was so hot. I think I said it a moment ago but thank you for indulging me Rainy, there’s no one I’d rather pump me with a toy,” he finishes with a kiss blown to his mate.

Rain giggles at Dew’s sentiment, ever the romantic, “Maybe not tonight, sweetheart, already gone stiff, not sure I could guide you through another orgasm. And wouldn’t want you getting greedy, hmm?” He jokes.

Stiff, Dewdrop thinks, shifting in place to confirm his suspicion, shit he’s still hard. “Wait, don’t you want to get off? Only feels right after what you gave me.”

“I’ll be fine, handsome, there’s always tomorrow.”

An idea worms its way inside Dewdrop’s mind, “We could use the vibe, could jack you off, make you fuck my fist?”

And how could Rain so no to his puppy-eyed boyfriend and his incredulously horny suggestion. Dewdrop sits up, kneeling over Rain’s legs. Vibrator in hand, he starts it up and closes his fist around Rain’s weeping cock. Rain shudders at the sensation, at finally having something more than the friction against the small of Dewdrop’s back. It’s intense, the fire ghoul wasting no time in jacking the vibe up to the maximum setting, hell bent on just getting Rain off, and he isn’t complaining. “Oh Dewdrop I love you so much, fuck- don’t know what I’d do without you in my life- ahhh keep going, ‘m already close,”

“Aww baby, can’t keep going just a little longer? No? I don’t blame you, the show I put on was fucking hot, wasn’t it?” 

All Rain can do is nod fervently in response to Dewdrop’s questions. His ruddy head sliding through the fire ghoul’s slick hand, sliding up against the hard plastic of the vibrator. The mix of hot and cold drives him crazy as he utters more confessions of love to his mate. It’s not like it’s the first time he’s said it, but it feels so much more real, knowing he’s seen this vulnerable side of Dewdrop. The smaller ghoul always feared that if he let this side of himself be seen, he’d be left, upset and alone for eternity. Seeing that Rain still loves him after tonight, well fuck if that doesn’t encourage him to make Rain scream his name.

“Wanna hear you,” he mutters.

“Oh yeah, baby? What do you want to hear? You’re being such a good boy for me, gonna bust all over your hand.”

“Want you to say my name,” Dewdrop says, unsure if it’s a question or a statement, but Rain knows exactly what to do.

Dewdrop braces himself on Rain’s chest and the heat of his palm pushes Rain over the edge, “Oh Dew, fuck you treat me so well my Dewdrop, I fucking love you, don’t you ever forget it,” he cries out to anyone who could be listening, and he’s sure there are people getting their fix on the sounds emanating from the room. Dewdrop keeps his hand steady as ever, watching Rain’s cock spurt thick white ropes, seemingly endlessly, twitching as the water ghoul cants his hips with an ever waning intensity.

“Fuck, I love you too, Rain.”

And Dewdrop means it with no hesitation. He’s not sure any other person could have made tonight as incredible as Rain has. He’ll never understand what he did for Satan to reward him like this, but he doesn’t need to know, just having Rain is enough.