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aurorawritestoescape · 3 days ago

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HOLD MY HAND || Clint x f!reader

Summary: you have good news for Clint and it seems that you two are ready for another big step in your relationship.

Tw: 18+ mdni, smut, fluff, ANGST, unspecified age gap, gun violence, death, soft!Clint, Clint in love, f!oral, unprotected piv, creampie, multiple orgasms, pregnancy, mention of puking, swearing.

Word count: 1,4k

A/n: I’ve been obsessing over this story since this morning when I saw the ‘Freaky Tales’ trailer and I need it out of my head otherwise it’ll explode lol Kisses to my baby @milla-frenchy for beta-ing and helping me😘 Love y’all! Don’t hate me. Bye❤️ Dividers by @/saradika-graphics

MASTERLIST

“No, please, too much.”

“C’mon, jus’ one more, baby.”

You try to push away Clint’s massive hands on your hips, pinning you to the bed, but to no avail. You smile weakly, watching him rub his scruffy cheek against your inner thigh, his eyes glinting with lust in the dim light of the bedroom.

“For me, sweetheart.” His voice is soft and your heart melts when he asks you like that, looking at you like that.

“I need to tell you something.” You barely hear yourself, your heart pounding hard in your ears.

“You’ll tell me when I’m done with you.”

And he winks at you.

“Motherfucker,” you mumble and he chuckles before diving back in.

Your head dips into the pillow when Clint’s lips latch onto your poor puffy clit, but knowing how overstimulated you are, he laps at it gently, then carefully sucks your bud into his wet hot mouth, and you moan so loudly, you’re sure your neighbors can hear. To hell with them! You’re in heaven.

A little sob escapes your mouth when you feel yourself on the brink of another climax— third or fourth that night, you lost count, delirious with pleasure, drunk on his caress, drunk on him.

“Please, Clint,” you whine, asking for more or less, you have no idea.

“Here, hold my hand, sweetheart.”

His sweaty palm slides up your naked belly to your sternum, and you grab it, wrap your fingers around it tightly, ground yourself to him, while he’s eating your pussy out with his whole jaw, his thick digits pumping into your drenched cunt — in and out, in and out. Your core tightens, your nails scratch his hard skin and you come hard, your walls clamping around his fingers. Clint growls into your pussy, feeling the grip of your ecstasy,

“Mmm, yeah, good girl.”

You’re shaking against the damp sheets, crying— fuck — you’re really crying.

When your body relaxes, Clint immediately climbs up the bed, lies next to you and pulls you into his embrace.

“Shit, ‘m sorry, baby.” He cups your wet cheek and carefully wipes your tears off with his thumb. ”Didn’t mean to hurt you.”

You shake your head, sniffing.

“No-no, you didn’t. I’m fine.”

You reach up and kiss him, thanking him for the pleasure, silently confessing your love to your man.

He’s rock hard against your thigh, his hot tip smears wetness over your skin. Still making out, you pull him over yourself and he settles between your legs.

“You sure?” he asks, breaking the kiss, and you nod eagerly, tilting your hips up for him.

“Ok, sweetheart. Here we go.”

He feeds you his cock, slowly pushing it into your pussy, and then begins languidly fucking you, grunting into your mouth, your legs wrapped around his hips.

You feel him everywhere all at once and you love it. Love his tongue in your mouth, his chest hair caressing your nipples, his body caging you to the bed, his damp curls between your fingers, his cock kissing your soft spot. It’s too much and not enough at the same time. You break the kiss and take a deep breath.

“I love you,” you exhale, so quietly, you think he doesn’t hear you. You just can’t not say it right now.

“I love you too,” he echoes and you smile, nuzzling his jaw.

He makes you come on his cock and only then spills his cum inside you.

You make out while he’s softening inside your stuffed pussy, until you pull away and search for his warm eyes. A little smile curves your lips as you whisper,

”The thing I wanted to tell you. I’m pregnant.”

You knew Clint wanted your little family to grow as much as you did but you never expected him to fall so deeply in love with the bean growing inside you. He began cooing at your stomach as soon as he heard the good news, making you giggle with happiness.

He was next to you every step of the way - getting you to and from the doctor, caring about what you ate, holding your hair when you were puking out what you’d just eaten, patiently listening to your complaints about morning sickness, heartburn, raging hormones and anything that was making you irritable that day. You always found comfort on his lap and in his arms, big and strong, and when you inevitably would begin grinding your pussy against his thighs he’d give you as many orgasms as you pleased, carefully making you unravel on his fingers, his tongue, his cock. He was a perfect father-to-be.

For you, for the three of you, he retired, and when bad guys offered him one last job he always told them to go fuck themselves.

Clint helps you to get into his car and you plop into the seat with a huff.

“Told you everything’s fine,” he gruffs, getting behind the wheel.

“Yeah.”

You give him a little smile and look down at your huge belly. You rub it, deep in your thoughts after a doctor’s appointment.

“She’s gonna be here soon,” Clint cooes, putting his palm over your hand. His touch calms you down a bit but it still feels like you’re suffocating.

”Yes, very soon,” you nod, your eyes downcast. ”I can feel it.”

You try to steady your shaky voice but as usual Clint reads you like an open book.

“What is it, sweetheart?” he asks and you stay frozen. You’re afraid you’ll cry if you meet his eyes. His eyes full of excitement and happiness. ‘Of course,’ you grumble inside your head, ‘he‘s not the one getting ready to push out a giant baby. You are.’

You shake your head and stare in front of yourself.

“Hey.” He pinches your chin and gently turns your head to him. “Tell me.”

He doesn’t command. He begs. This huge dangerous guy begs for you to talk.

“I’m scared,” you finally squeak and tears well up in your eyes.

He leans closer to you and pulls you into his embrace. You push your face into the crease of his neck and let it all out. She’s gonna be here soon but you’re not ready. How can anyone be ready for it?

You’re crying quietly in his arms, enveloped by the scent of his cologne and his leather jacket as he’s hugging your shoulders, his hand on your stomach. He’s silent.

When your sobs get quieter and less frequent only then Clint starts talking. The vibrations of his chest make you sink deeper into his embrace as you listen to him.

“I know you’re scared. I’m terrified too. But you’re strong and — yeah, I’m not a fucking prize. I’m older and — shit, there’s so much blood on my hands. I—I don’t know how I’m gonna hold our babygirl with these hands.”

You lift your head off his chest and look at him. His eyes are slightly red, glossy with the emotions he’s been holding inside, for your sake, and now they’re spilling out.

“I’m done with that shit, sweetheart, but — .”

He’s shaking his head, his lower lip trembles and you take his face into your hands, your wet eyes darting between his.

“No. Listen to me. My fears are never because of you. Never. I know you’re gonna be the best dad for our girl. I’m sure of it.”

You shake his head a little and you both smile. He takes your hand off his face and presses a kiss to your palm.

“I love you, Clint. Your past— it’s behind you. And I’m happy that your future is with me. And her.”

You bring his hand to your belly and you both feel the second heartbeat under your palms.

“I love you. Both of you,” Clint mutters and kisses you. His chapped lips move slowly, his tongue pushes between your lips and tangles with yours. The taste of him ignites your core and you gush, squirming in your seat.

“Need you,” you whine against his mouth and he chuckles, pulling away from you.

“Let’s get you home, sweetheart.”

He sits straight and puts his hands on the wheel.

Suddenly you see a man, standing by the car.

A muzzle of a gun pushes into the window. Clint reacts fast and grabs it.

Bang!

You feel pain. So much pain.

You hear Clint. He’s talking to you. He’s crying.

“Hold my hand, baby. Hold my hand.”

His voice gets quieter and quieter until it disappears altogether and your world goes black.

Thank you for reading! Please comment and reblog if you enjoyed the fic!

MASTERLIST

Tag list: @milla-frenchy @harriedandharassed @iamasaddie @nervousmumbling @bbyanarchist @stevie75 @puduvallee @auteurdelabre @mountainsandmayhem @senoratess @flamingochick55 @theoraekenslover @schnarfer @mermaidgirl30 @staywildflowahchild @yesjazzywazzylove-blog @evolnoomym @keylimebeag @joelmillerisapunk @pascaltesaye @fruityreads @itwasntimethatdidit40 @meetmeatyourworst @callmebyyournick-name

#pedro pascal #clint #freaky tales #fanfiction #pedro pascal characters #clint x reader #angst #clint freaky tales #clint x you #pedro pascal smut #pedro pascal fanfiction #fluff #joel miller #tw pregnancy #tw death #pedro pascal angst #freaky tales spoilers #pedro pascal fic

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shiftyfly · 2 days ago

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[interview with fantasy author Sir Terry Pratchett]

O: You’re quite a writer. You’ve a gift for language, you’re a deft hand at plotting, and your books seem to have an enormous amount of attention to detail put into them. You’re so good you could write anything. Why write fantasy?

Pratchett: I had a decent lunch, and I’m feeling quite amiable. That’s why you’re still alive. I think you’d have to explain to me why you’ve asked that question.

O: It’s a rather ghettoized genre.

P: This is true. I cannot speak for the US, where I merely sort of sell okay. But in the UK I think every book— I think I’ve done twenty in the series— since the fourth book, every one has been one the top ten national bestsellers, either as hardcover or paperback, and quite often as both. Twelve or thirteen have been number one. I’ve done six juveniles, all of those have nevertheless crossed over to the adult bestseller list. On one occasion I had the adult best seller, the paperback best-seller in a different title, and a third book on the juvenile bestseller list. Now tell me again that this is a ghettoized genre.

O: It’s certainly regarded as less than serious fiction.

P: (Sighs) Without a shadow of a doubt, the first fiction ever recounted was fantasy. Guys sitting around the campfire— Was it you who wrote the review? I thought I recognized it— Guys sitting around the campfire telling each other stories about the gods who made lightning, and stuff like that. They did not tell one another literary stories. They did not complain about difficulties of male menopause while being a junior lecturer on some midwestern college campus. Fantasy is without a shadow of a doubt the ur-literature, the spring from which all other literature has flown. Up to a few hundred years ago no one would have disagreed with this, because most stories were, in some sense, fantasy. Back in the middle ages, people wouldn’t have thought twice about bringing in Death as a character who would have a role to play in the story. Echoes of this can be seen in Pilgrim’s Progress, for example, which hark back to a much earlier type of storytelling. The epic of Gilgamesh is one of the earliest works of literature, and by the standard we would apply now— a big muscular guys with swords and certain godlike connections— That’s fantasy. The national literature of Finland, the Kalevala. Beowulf in England. I cannot pronounce Bahaghvad-Gita but the Indian one, you know what I mean. The national literature, the one that underpins everything else, is by the standards that we apply now, a work of fantasy.

Now I don’t know what you’d consider the national literature of America, but if the words Moby Dick are inching their way towards this conversation, whatever else it was, it was also a work of fantasy. Fantasy is kind of a plasma in which other things can be carried. I don’t think this is a ghetto. This is, fantasy is, almost a sea in which other genres swim. Now it may be that there has developed in the last couple of hundred years a subset of fantasy which merely uses a different icongraphy, and that is, if you like, the serious literature, the Booker Prize contender. Fantasy can be serious literature. Fantasy has often been serious literature. You have to fairly dense to think that Gulliver’s Travels is only a story about a guy having a real fun time among big people and little people and horses and stuff like that. What the book was about was something else. Fantasy can carry quite a serious burden, and so can humor. So what you’re saying is, strip away the trolls and the dwarves and things and put everyone into modern dress, get them to agonize a bit, mention Virginia Woolf a few times, and there! Hey! I’ve got a serious novel. But you don’t actually have to do that.

(Pauses) That was a bloody good answer, though I say it myself.

my creative writing prof also HATES fantasy. as in if she asks for an example of symbolism in a book, and you give something from a fantasy novel, she’ll ask for an example from a “non-commercial book” instead.

I dunno man, people can have preferences, but the second you discount the artistic merit of sci fi and fantasy I stop taking your opinion seriously. and there’s such a big culture in Canada of only valuing literary fiction, to the point where one of our biggest authors, Margaret Atwood, refused for a while to classify her books as sci fi or fantasy. she said they were “speculative fiction”, which is entirely separate and very highbrow (sarcasm).

and I could go on about how Octavia Butler and Ursula Le Guin wrote books every bit as intellectual (and honestly, even more so) than their literary counterparts, but I am also an enjoyer of schlock!! I think there’s artistic merit in animorphs, and in isekais where a japanese schoolgirl reincarnates into a magical spider who has to level up like it’s a video game! it’s like with everything, you can’t draw a clean line that separates ‘art’ from ‘non-art’ or even ‘lesser art’, and pretending you can do so just makes you look ignorant and goofy. in my opinion.

#sir terry pratchett #discworld #good omens #theres always a Pratchett quote #fantasy

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dragonnarrative-writes · 2 days ago

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Best In Show

Simon "Ghost" Riley x Naya "Bambi" Walker (OC)

Read on AO3

Word count: 4.8k

CW: BDSM, Sexual Content, kink negotiations, hucow kink, speech restriction, themed lingerie, lactation kink, breeding kink, dirty talk, so much dirty talk, pre-nut insanity (one of my favorite flavors of Simon), fantasies of dub-con (no actual dub-con), post-nut laughter

Notes: This was supposed to be a short addition to the Kinktober prompts, but obviously I am bad at keeping things short. Also, the working title for this was "Moo Moo Moo."

Simon is hiding something. Maybe that’s the wrong way to look at it. There’s something he’s not saying, not making obvious. It itches at the back of your mind.

It starts with looking at your own nude body in the mirror after a shower. You’ve been going to the gym, just a little bit. Weight training and cardio to keep up with all of the sex you’ve been having since moving in with Simon. You haven’t really lost any weight. In fact, your hips are wider, with no real change in the pouch of your belly.

Simon makes an interested noise when he walks into the bedroom. “Guess we should ‘old off on supper, eh?”

“No, no, I want to try that recipe I found,” you say, ignoring his discontented noise as you pull on underwear. The pleased noise he makes when you tug on his shirt is predictable, just like the kiss he presses to your cheek. “I was just… looking at myself. Kind of surprised that I’ve got more hip. Still got the belly, though.”

Simon surprises you by saying, “Tit’s’re bigger, too.”

“Are they?” You bunch the shirt in the back, and take yourself in. “Huh.”

“More pectoral muscle,” he says with a shrug. “More breast.”

“That’s not how that works,” you scoff, shoving him playfully before leaving the bedroom. “Besides, I heard your tis are the first to go when you lose weight.”

“Then I hope you don’t lose weight,” Simon answers, following you into the kitchen for a kiss. “I like all’o you.”

He spends extra time worshiping your thick parts, that night. Kisses you and kisses you and kisses you while rubbing your belly and groping at your hips, stroking and pinching at your breasts, your thighs, your love handles, your arm fat. He’s ravenous as he eats you out. The two of you are loud as he takes you apart. You fall asleep completely drained and covered in sore spots.

It doesn’t occur to you that you’ve been missing anything for a while after that. In fact, nothing seems off until he catches you masturbating a couple of months later. One moment, you’re alone at home, in bed, and the next he’s climbing in next to you with a groan and a sigh of relief.

“Whatcha wachin’?” he asks over your surprised yelp. “Tha’s not y’r usual boyfriend.”

“What do you know about my usual porn,” you laugh as you pass him your earbuds to place on the side table. You roll to kiss him as you admit, “It’s not really exciting, I was mostly done.”

“What counts as exciting?”

“I dunno,” you shrug, cuddling up. He smells so good. “You know my usuals, why don’t you tell me?”

Simon chuckles into your hair. “Big dicks ‘n ‘elplessness. Bonus points for dubious consent.”

“…Well… You’re not wrong.”

“I know what my girl likes.”

“Okay,” you giggle. “Well, what’s exciting for you?”

If you didn’t know him, you would have missed the split second pause before his answer. As it is you barely catch the way his hand twitches against the curve of your ass.

But he says, “You know what I like. A beautiful woman asking for what she wants.”

“And getting it until she cries,” you purr, rolling on top of him.

“Lies and slander,” he deadpans, grinding his hips up into yours. “I’d never enjoy seeing you with those pretty tears in your eyes, beggin’ me t’ keep goin’ and t’ stop at the same time.”

Of course, you both prove him wrong in short order. After, he holds you while you tremble, pressing kisses to the crown of your head. He laughs, just a little, when you can’t sit up enough to get your water on your own, but he also helps you, so that’s okay.

The next day, you realize that you actually don’t know what porn Simon finds exciting. He’s shared some with you, of course, on the nights where sex was too much work until it suddenly wasn’t. Every now and again, though, he would scroll past something with a dismissive noise. It wouldn’t be noteworthy, except… well, they’re all videos he’s saved in his favorites. So he likes them, but doesn’t necessarily want to share them with you. Which is fine. Heaven knows you’re deleting your porn history regularly. Whatever you look up when you’re ovulating is between you, Bowser, and God.

But the last straw for your curiosity comes when you borrow his phone to do some quick online shopping. A friend is having a themed pool party and wants everyone in shades of blue. You’ve been on a pink and purple kick, so you don’t actually have an appropriate bathing suit. So you pull up the search engine and look up bathing suits.

And there, in the search history: ‘Cow Print Bikini’.

Your research brain goes, “Jackpot.”

There’s no way to tell what, if anything, Simon looked at in the search results. But you’re good at knowing where to look. More importantly, you know your man. And after a full 24 hours of research, you have a pretty good idea of the shape of things.

“Hey Simon,” you call, a week later.

“In the den,” he answers.

“Can you… actually, I’ll be right there!”

When you get there, he’s playing one of his video games. He turns his head to kiss you, then curses under his breath when a pink slime eats the fruit he’d been trying to harvest. It’s such a sweet, domestic moment that you almost don’t want to interrupt.

“Do you have space for a kink discussion?” You settle onto the couch next to him, and pull your legs up under yourself. “Nothing bad. Just… maybe some negotiations. You can keep playing.”

He taps the controller against one of his palms, twice, then says, “Sure.”

You take a deep breath, then ask, “Have you ever heard of hucows?”

The pause menu comes up immediately, but Simon doesn’t look at you. In fact, he’s so still that you’re sure he’s stopped breathing. When he doesn’t say or do anything for a full ten seconds, you look up at him.

His face is blank, and he looks back at you from the corner of his eye.

“I’m going to take that as a yes,” you whisper.

He blinks, then shakes himself back into his skin. He looks back at the television, but doesn’t resume the game. “Why do you ask?”

“I’ve been doing some research,” you answer. “And I thought you might find it… interesting.” When he looks at you again without saying anything, you confess. “And there were cow print bikinis in your search history.”

All of the air leaves Simon in a whoosh. He leans back into the couch and scrubs a hand over his face. “’M sorry. I don’t… I wouldn’t ever… You know I love you. ‘N that I respect you. I’d never-”

“Woah, woah, wait!” You grab one of his hands in yours. “Hang on. You love me, I love you. I trust you. Do you trust me?”

Simon doesn’t answer for a long moment, and then he says, without taking his hand from his face, “I trust you to be ‘onest with me. Trust you’ll accept a no. Trust you’re not g’nna yell. Trust you not to punish me if you’re upset.”

“Acknowledged,” you breathe against his bicep. “I trust you to be honest with me, too. And I trust that it’s okay to tell you if I’m not comfortable with anything we discuss or do. I trust that you won’t yell at me. I trust that you’re not going to hurt or harm me on purpose to correct my behavior. Acknowledge.”

Simon sighs, again, then peeks through his fingers at you. “Acknowledged.”

“Okay,” you say, coaxing him to release some of the tension in his shoulders. “So. I did a little research. But I just want to know for sure what you think, what you find exciting.”

He’s pink when he asks, “Y’ve seen the videos?”

“No!”

That finally makes him look at you skeptically. “No?”

“I wasn’t snooping through your stuff,” you protest. “I literally searched for a bikini on your phone and it had the little history symbol next to it. I got curious.”

“Hell of a distance between a bathing suit an’ niche kinks.”

The hint of humor in his voice gives you the permission you were waiting for. You climb into his lap and throw your legs over one of his arms. He hugs you exactly the way you want, just as loving as ever.

“So then,” he eventually says. “What did you find?”

“So much bad porn, oh my god,” you answer. “Not that the actual hucow stuff itself is bad. It’s just that the non-paywalled stuff is steeped in so much spam. And what isn’t pure spam doesn’t really seem like your kind of thing. Just… lots of humiliation and degradation and misogyny kink. Stuff you’ve already said takes you out of the mood. And if that’s sometimes the mood, that’s fine, too. I know we don’t always masturbate to things we’re usually into-”

“It’s not that,” Simon interrupts.

You’re both quiet after. You realize that his heart is racing under your hand, and your heart is beating just as fast. But he keeps holding you, and you keep petting over the dip of his collarbones.

Your stomach churns. “I shouldn’t have said the porn was bad. I’m sorry.”

“It is bad,” Simon snorts. “’S part of why I never mentioned it. Some of that shit is nasty.”

“I like nasty.”

He hums and rubs a hand over your back. “I know, beautiful. But this feels… bad. Some ‘f it… ’S ‘ard to find the words. But I didn’t want you t’ think I see you that way, that I ever want to see you that way.”

“Porn isn’t real life,” you remind him. “Things that happen in a scene that everyone consented to-”

“Yeah, yeah.” He rolls his eyes as you glare up at him. “Let’s not pretend that kink has no basis in reality. Our dynamic is special to me, Naya. I don’t want to… disrespect it, or you, or us, with this.”

“Okay,” you whisper, tucking your face into his neck. You take one of his hands back into yours. “We don’t have to keep talking about it, if you don’t want to. But,” you can’t help but add with a smile. “I did get cow print lingerie. And a headband. It’s got little ears and horns.”

Simon groans. “No, you didn’t.”

“I did!” You press a kiss to his chin. “I’m glad I didn’t try to surprise you with it.”

“Would’a given me an ‘eart attack.”

“That would have been fun to explain. ‘Oh gee, Captain, I didn’t think he’d like it that much.’”

“Oi,” Simon growls.

He dips down to press his lips to yours. You don’t hesitate to wrap your arms around his shoulders and shift to straddle his lap. The kiss is sweet, a reassurance. Like aftercare. Maybe it is. Both of your bodies relax, until you can’t even hold yourself up to keep your lips on his. You lay your head on his shoulder with a content sigh.

You’re like that for a long time before Simon speaks again.

“Its the idea that her body… your body… could be nothing but pleasure and instinct. That I could pull pleasure from you until it would be pain not to.” He’s quiet for a moment, then continues when you don’t reply. “There’s something about it. But it’s a fantasy I never intended to bring to the bedroom. It’s… just something to think about, sometimes.”

Simon presents the cow print bikini on a Thursday. At first, you’re confused. Then you’re amused, because a year ago you would have worked yourself into a tizzy trying to figure out what he was saying about your weight. But Simon loves your body, and you, and after months of avoiding talking about it, this is a huge step. So you stay silent, and look up at him expectantly.

“Would like to do a scene this weekend,” he says. “Acknowledge.”

“Acknowledged,” you answer, biting back a smile. “What are the parameters?”

Things seem downright vanilla for the first half. A whole day of pampering - spa, nails, hair - that means he’s been planning this for a while. Your favorite, just fancy enough food for dinner, and a dessert to go. All the usual rules apply: Simon’s in charge, you promise to be honest. All in all, a perfect date night.

And then he says something that boggles your mind.

“Okay, wait. I put on the cow print, and then I can only moo? After we get home?”

“No,” he surprises you by saying. He takes a deep breath, then continues. “I want you to wear it all day. An’ you’re only allowed to moo. Except durin’ your appointments. Please don’t moo at your stylists.”

“But at dinner…”

“I’ll order for you,” He says. His eyes flick away, then back to yours. “I’ll take care of everything.”

“But we won’t talk,” you press.

His ears go pink, but he cracks a smile as he says, “I’ll talk. And it’s not a rule that you have to be silent.”

He’s embarrassed, you realize. He’s finally acting on this thing you discussed so long ago, but he’s still nervous about what you’ll think. You have to stifle the part of you that wants to coo.

“Okay,” you say, taking his hand and pressing a kiss to his knuckles. “Unless I’m using a safeword, I can just… make cow sounds. All day. Acknowledged.”

The day of comes quickly. And then you’’e contemplating the lingerie you bought months ago. It’s much nicer than the flimsy thing Simon got, “just as ‘n experiment, no sense in wastin’ money ‘f things aren’t good as the fantasy.” The bikini he got you is… cheap. Your purchase will certainly fit under your clothes nicer.

As you pull on the silky material Simon apparently didn’t believe you actually ordered, you take a couple of deep breaths. You’re going to wear cow print for your partner. It’s not much different, you reason, from asking him to graze his knife over your skin while he watches TV. It’s not not his thing. And this isn’t exactly your thing. But you love each other. So you’ll do this thing, because his enjoyment can be yours.

Yeah.

By the end of dinner, you’re much deeper into a submissive headspace than you ever expected to be. You’re so aware of the urge to talk and the fact that you can’t. It’s a constant cue to look to Simon. More than once, you almost slip up. The words catch in your throat and you have to pivot to a lowing sound, a drawn out vowel that leaves you feeling helpless as he smiles and pets at your hand. You expect it to be maddening, but it’s not. Simon anticipates your needs so well that there’s nothing you need that he doesn’t already provide for you. All you can do is shiver at the way he gives you everything, touches you everywhere.

By the time you’re in the car home, you’re a mess. You can’t sit still, find yourself staring at the side of Simon’s face as he drives. You’re startled when he looks back at you at a red light. He reaches out and you lean in, then jump when he pinches your nipple just hard enough to make you gasp. He watches your face as he pets and plucks, chuckles as you pant and groan and moo.

When the light is green again, he stops. You’re very aware of your right breast.

At the next red, he says, “Give me the other one.”

You do.

“Sweet, pretty girl,” he praises as he tugs at you again. He hums, pleased, as you arch your back. His eyes are dark when he says, “Not wearin’ what I gave you. C’n se y’r nipples beggin’ for attention.

When you look down at yourself, heat flushes through you from your crown to your toes. He’s right, the thin bralette that you’d chosen does nothing to hide you body’s reaction to being teased. And the dress he’d picked for you was already tight around your chest…

The light turns green. You moan as he releases you and turns back to the road.

“What’re you wearin’?” He asks. When you look at him, he’s smirking. “Tell me. Wha’s my pretty girl got under her dress?”

You open your mouth, and your voice sticks. “…Moo?”

“Oh, tha’ sounds nice,” he chuckles. He takes your hand in his. “Lookin’ forward to seein’ it.”

Your thoughts and legs stumble into themselves when you finally walk through your front door. Simon doesn’t let you get far. He catches you around the neck with a big hand and brings you close for a kiss. As soon as the door is shut, his hands make their way to the back of your dress. He unzips and then guides the soft material down until it’s past your hips, and drops down to your feet.

When he pulls away to look at you, his breath catches, and his whole body goes still. You’re so caught in the way his pupils dilate that it takes you a moment to remember the bralette, the panties, the garter belt. The cow print feels like an exaggeration of itself, when you look down at your own breasts. You vaguely remember feeling silly, when you’d put them on, but you don’t remember why. Simon’s eyes are so hot when he looks at you, you can’t help but preen a bit.

“Thought you was jokin,” Simon murmurs, cupping one of your breasts in his hand. His other hand cradles your jaw and makes you look up at him when he pinches your nipple again. His thumb dips into your mouth when you gasp. “But my sweet girl don’t lie to me. An’ she’s always show ready, huh? My sweet, soft girl,” Simon murmurs, going to one knee. He takes one of your hands and kisses your knuckles before placing it on his shoulder. Then he gently lifts your calf to take one of your shoes, then the other as he says, “Not a worry in the world, an’ you still give me so much.”

Even kneeling at your feet, he takes your breath away. His hands smooth up your stockings until he can dip his fingers under the straps of your garters, then he groans. You groan with him. You never know what to do with yourself when he gets like this. Hungry. Reverent on his knees. With a sigh, you close your eyes. You don’t need to know what to do, because he does. The gravity of him makes you sway forward as he leans forward to kiss just above your belly button.

You must signal your mental shift, because Simon stands and lifts you into his arms in the same movement. He kisses your lips like he’s starving. And you try to meet him, try to put everything you haven’t been able to say into the drag of your lips against his.

I love you. Thank you. I love you, I love you, I love you.

You expect him to be rough with you, heavy handed. But Simon is gentle as he touches you all over. When he lays you on the bed, instead of diving into your chest, he keeps kissing your mouth, your neck, down to your shoulder. You can’t stifle a giggle as he sucks kisses into your bicep and down to your forearm.

“Fuck,” he growls. He takes a hold of your hips and gives you a little shake. “You’re so perfect. ‘Ips ‘n thighs ‘n this arse. So strong and still so soft for me.” He dips down to press a kiss to your hip, even as one of his hands starts pinching at your nipple through your bralette again. “Eatin’ good and’ workin’ out ‘n sleepin’ better. Gonna let me give you that life of leisure? No more workin’, pretty girl. Just whatever feels good, whatever makes you ‘appy an’ soft, whatever I c’n give you.”

You try to gasp something that might be “yes” or “please,” but it turns into another drawn out moan. It doesn’t really matter, because Simon flips you onto your hands and knees so fast that your head spins. You almost fall over, but he catches you.

“Sorry sweet girl,” he chuckles. “But you’ve got me so caught up. ‘M gonna take care of you, don’t worry. Just so pretty - distractin’ me.”

Then he’s kissing across your shoulders, then makes his way down to your hipbones. You moan and sigh as his hands grope at you. His hands squeeze at your breasts, then your belly, your thighs, back to your ass. When he bites you, you yelp and groan, arching away from his teeth and into the hands.

“Shh, pretty girl,” he hushes. “’M sorry, I’ll give you what you need. Easy, tha’s it.”

You’re surprised into a gasp by his fingers rubbing gently over your clit through your panties. His other hand eases your back down - from cat to cow, you giggle to yourself - with another shushing sound. The tension bleeds out of your spine at the sound. Simon’s got you, he’s going to take care of you.

“There you go,” Simon rumbles as you drop your head between your arms. He strokes a hand down your back as his other hand gives you just a hint more pressure. “Is that better? Feel nice an’ relaxed?”

You’re feeling less relaxed by the second. Simon knows how to touch you if he wants you to melt. This? Is not that. He’s giving you just enough to tease, to make you instinctively chase his fingers. You shake your head and whimper, shuffling your knees knees further apart and arching your back again. You don’t even try to swallow a grunt of frustration when nothing you do makes him speed up or give you more pleasure.

“Hm?” He presses his lips against your hip as he asks, “Wha’s wrong, pretty girl? You need something?”

You open your mouth to beg, then remember that you can’t say anything. This motherfucker. When you tilt your body to glare at him, his eyes are sparkling with mirth. It’s hard not to smile back, to hold your frown long enough to let him know that you know what he’s doing.

But as usual, he’s a step ahead of you. As soon as you open your mouth to moo sarcastically, he slips a finger under your panties and into you, just as his other hand shoves the bra out of the way to pinch your nipple.

“So wet,” Simon whispers against your cheek. “Took care of everything else today, but you still need more, don’t you? Greedy girl.”

You are wet, have been since before he plucked at your nipples in the car. Since dinner, when he’d explained the cut of his steak, why he liked it. Since he paused and visibly considered what he couldn’t see you wearing. Since he’d looked at you with so much hunger that you’d had to take a sip of your water to gather yourself. You couldn’t say anything, then, by his direction and your own body’s need. You couldn’t make any sound at all, had practically ground your teeth together so you wouldn’t moan like a whore at the table.

Your jaw isn’t clenched now. The sound you make as two thick fingers push in is exactly as obscene as you imagined it would be. They press into you exactly where you want it as his other hand sends sparks through your chest and down your spine. Simon echoes you, breath hot against your face. You can’t keep yourself from chasing his lips with yours.

“Yeah,” he pants between biting kisses. He growls when you rock back into his fingers, and pinches your nipple until you gasp. “Settle, Bambi, ‘m gonna take care o’ you.”

His words melt you. Even as he ratchets your body into more tension, you believe him, and the promise alone is nearly a relief. When he pulls his fingers free, you don’t even think to protest. All you can do is hang your head between your arms and try to catch your breath. Something like a sob scrapes it’s way from your throat when he pushes back in with three.

The sound of Simon undoing his belt makes you tip your hips back and up, automatic. He groans again, deep in his throat, and slaps the meat of your ass. The sharp sting of it reminds you to be almost embarrassed, and you drop to your elbows to bury your face in the bedding.

“There you go,” Simon grunts as he lines himself up. He pushes in slow, so slow, as you pant and writhe and make animal sounds. One of his huge hands comes down to grip the back of your neck as he grunts and shoves deeper. “There’s my sweet girl. Shouldn’t’a kept you waiting. You can take it now, tha’s it.” He leans down, pushing just that little bit deeper as he plucks at your nipple again. He growls against your shoulder, “Gonna do this every day, yeah? Quit your job so I c’n keep you soft like this all the time. Breed you up proper, bet y’re gonna taste so sweet when your milk comes, when it’s all y’ve got to do, just a life of milk ‘n honey.”

You almost can’t make out what he’s saying over the sound of your own noises and the wet sounds of him pushing in and out of you. The fireworks up and down your spine have you writhing back into his thrusts. You can tell he’s rambling, that he’s so lost in your bodies that he’s losing control of his mouth. A change in angle has you crying out again, every nerve on fire as he pushes into you just right. The orgasm that had been building steadily rushes over you. It’s impossible to stop, shakes through your limbs until you collapse onto your chest under him.

“Tha’s it,” Simon hisses, pace steady and devastating as he chases you down to the mattress. “This what you need? Need t’ be bred an’ fucked ‘til you can’t think of nothin’ else? Yeah, tha’s what you need. Gonna make you come on my cock again, fill you up the way you like. Then I’ll hook you up, huh? Can’t leave you wantin’ jus ‘cause I need a break. C’n put a pump at each o’ your tits an’ keep fuckin’ you with a machine, too, ‘til I’m ready to go again, yeah?

Jesus, you think, giggling under him. Your pussy flutters as he gasps something else you can’t quite make out over the rushing in your ears. He wants to ruin you. You want him to, to do all of these things he’s growling about. The thought that he might is thrilling and terrifying, that after he comes and breeds you full he could go to the closet and pull out the machine and the dildo you bought for when he’s deployed to keep fucking you…

Your stomach swoops as you get caught up in your own fantasy. He doesn’t have to stop. You’d be too weak to fight him. And if he tied you up, bound you where he wants to keep you, he could do whatever he wants. Did he actually have a pump, something to pull at your nipples while he watched across the room? Would this be the time he finally surprises you with something you hadn’t quite negotiated? He could, he could, you’d let him, you’d beg-

“Simon!”

The second orgasm hurts. It hits so fast and hard on the heels of the first. You can vaguely feel the wetness running down your thighs as you squirt, legs shaking. Above you, Simon goes abruptly silent as he comes, breath coming out in barely-there grunts as his cock kicks and twitches inside of you.

All of the air huffs out of your lungs as he partially collapses on you. Another giggle stutters out of you. It turns into a moan as he guides your legs down and open so he can grind into you some more until you’re prone. His own gentle chuckle tickles your ear.

“Fuckin’ ell,” he pants. The arm that’s braced to keep his weight off of you shakes a bit. “Gimme… fuck, gimme a minute. ‘Ll get up in a mo’.”

“Mmm,” you hum, kissing at his wrist. You tip your head back to grin up at him. “Moo.”

He crushes you a bit when his laughter makes him fall, but you can’t even pretend to be upset.

#dragonnarrativewrites fanfiction #Best In Show #kink fics #manic pixie dream ghost #simon ghost riley #simon riley x you #ghost x reader #black reader #PSA from Price sitting backwards in a chair: Remember to practice Risk Aware Consensual Kink #remember that kink is what you make it #negotiation means finding out what each person wants from an experience #and not just assuming based on whatever your research might tell you #also brain fantasies and real life sex can be different even when they're happening at the same time #this is a one shot #for now #who knows what the brain worms will do

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psylosya · 3 days ago

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ִֶָ☾. R E D A M A N C Y "If only you knew how long I’ve been waiting for this…"

࣪ ִֶָ☾. tags : nsfw (+18! M.D.N.I ! ), consensual, soft, valentine's day, mutual pining, domestic fluff, soft angst, slow burn, yearning & first time.

࣪ ִֶָ☾. pairing : Caleb x Reader

࣪ ִֶָ☾. summary : A missed call, a long absence, and a shared meal under the dim glow of a Valentine’s night. Between unspoken words, lingering memories, and emotions running high, Caleb and her navigate the space between hesitation and certainty—until silence finally gives way to long-awaited confessions.

࣪ ִֶָ☾. link : twitter

One less wanderer, another workday done.

The weather couldn’t seem to make up its mind. My headphones played the playlist Caleb had sent me a while ago as my gaze drifted over the landscape rolling past the train’s wide windows. It had been days—maybe weeks—since we last saw each other. Hard to say for sure; time always seems to speed up when someone drifts away.

Since New Year’s, he’d been keeping a low profile, sending only vague updates about what he was up to—unusual for him. My unease only grew when he finally called to tell me he’d be away for a while because of the Farspace Fleet.

The soft patter of raindrops against the glass pulled me from my thoughts, reminding me it was time to get off.

As I set down my umbrella and my damp coat at the entrance of my apartment, I heard the distant voice of the TV announcing a Valentine’s Day festival happening tonight in the heart of Linkon. Right.

February 14th. Consumed by my work and the Aether Core, I hadn’t even realized the so-called day of lovers had arrived. With a sigh, I made my way to the fridge. Empty. Perfect.

Both my stomach and my mind conspired to remind me of the taste of Caleb’s cooking. I missed his dishes.

No. I missed him.

A part of me refused to think about him, as if avoiding the thought could somehow dull the ache his absence left behind.

Ever since his "return"—or at least his return into my life—his presence had become so natural that I almost forgot how shattered I had been upon learning of his "death"… and Gran’s.

Lacking both the energy and the inspiration to cook, I reached for my phone to order something. But just as I unlocked it, it began ringing, making me jump. In my panic, it slipped right through my fingers.

— "Damn!"

As I picked up my phone, my eyes freeze on the screen. The name flashing across it belongs to the very person haunting my thoughts—Caleb.

My heart races. Before I can even think, my fingers move on their own and I accept the call.

— "Hey, Pipsqueak."

— "Hey, Caleb… You’re back."

A short but heavy silence settles between us. On the other end, I think I hear him sigh.

— "Yeah. Did you get home okay?"

— "Don’t worry, I’m warm and safe."

He chuckles, probably amused by my teasing tone, as if he really needed to keep tabs on me all the time.

— "Alright, alright. I’ll stop bugging you. Good night, Pipsqueak."

Before I can even respond, he hangs up.

I let out a deep sigh, slipping my phone back into my pocket. That was it? Just a "good night"? He didn’t even say when he’d be back… I run a hand through my hair, debating whether I should call him back or just let it go.

I wasn’t used to such brief calls with Caleb. If anything, he loved talking on the phone when he wasn’t around in person. This wasn’t like him. Frustrated—and, though I wouldn’t admit it out loud, a little hurt—I slump onto the couch, staring blankly at the wall in front of me.

The silence is abruptly broken by the sound of my front door opening. Startled, I immediately turn toward the noise. Mouth slightly open, eyes wide, I freeze at the sight of Caleb standing in the doorway.

He’s holding two bags, and the unmistakable aroma wafting from them leaves no doubt—he took the time to cook.

For a fleeting moment, the warmth in his smile reminds me of the way he used to look before the explosion. With a mischievous glint in his eyes, he extends the bags toward me.

— "Happy Valentine’s Day, Pipsqueak."

My expression brightens—before shifting into a mock frown.

— "Dummy! You could’ve at least warned me you were coming—I thought I was dealing with a burglar!"

As I gently take the bags from his hands, I let my fingertips brush against his cheeks, tickling him in the process. A light laugh escapes me, my irritation already fading in the face of his excitement.

— "And ruin the surprise of seeing your reaction? Haha. Besides, I thought you knew how to defend yourself."

With a soft motion, he pushes my hands away from his face, and we head toward the kitchen.

The moment I open the containers, an explosion of rich, mouthwatering aromas fills the air. My gaze drifts back to Caleb, who moves around the kitchen like he belongs here, casually opening my cabinets in search of plates and cutlery.

— "How did you even find the time to cook all this?! I thought you were swamped with work."

As he sets the table, his expression turns slightly distant, lost in thought.

— "I am. But you’re more important than my work. And today is a special day."

His words make my cheeks heat up just a little. Caleb has never been the type to hide his feelings or the place I hold in his life. But now… things were different. We weren’t kids anymore, and though our feelings had changed, neither of us dared to put them into words.

Not wanting to make the moment any more awkward with my own clumsiness, I decide to lighten the mood with a joke, hoping to shift his attention.

— "Right. Weren’t you the one who used to say Valentine’s Day was a stupid holiday?"

That mischievous smile of his returns—the same one he used to give me before pulling pranks on me when we were kids.

— "I said that when I was, what, fourteen? Pipsqueak, boys my age had other things on their minds."

We eat in comfortable silence—or at least, he does. In my case, I’m practically devouring my meal. Having barely eaten since the day before, my body wastes no time reminding me of its hunger with every bite.

The conversation flows easily, filled with little everyday details, small trivialities—everything we hadn’t been able to share these past few weeks. I had really missed him.

Once dinner is over, I take care of the dishes while he puts the leftovers away in my previously—and rather desperately—empty fridge. I catch the slight furrow of his brows, but he doesn’t say a word about it, and for that, I’m grateful.

As I reach for the last dish, Caleb’s fingers brush against mine. It’s a fleeting touch, but it sends a small shiver down my spine. I glance at him, but he’s already turning away, oblivious—or maybe pretending to be.

— "Are you leaving again soon?"

He pauses, closing the fridge door slowly.

— "I don’t know yet. Maybe."

I clench my fists. That’s not an answer.

— "You could just tell me the truth."

He finally looks at me, a faint sadness in his eyes.

— "The truth is, I don’t want to leave. Not now."

My heart stirs. I step closer, my voice quieter.

— "Then stay. At least for tonight."

He doesn’t answer, but his fingers brush my cheek, sending a shiver down my spine.

— "Did you miss me, Pipsqueak?"

I scoff, trying to mask the ache in my chest.

— "Obviously. Did you think I enjoyed your silence?"

His hand drifts down my arm, warmth seeping through my shirt.

— "I was afraid you wouldn’t want me back."

— "Idiot. I was afraid you’d never come back."

Without a word, we move to the living room. The television hums in the background, but neither of us pays attention to it. I tuck my legs beneath me on the couch, stealing a glance at Caleb, who seems lost in thought.

Something is different tonight. There’s a weight to the silence between us, a quiet anticipation neither of us dares to address just yet. — "Thanks for tonight, Caleb. I needed this… I missed you."

Out of the corner of my eye, I see him turn toward me. His ears seem slightly pink, though I can’t tell if it’s the glow of the streetlights outside or my words that caused it.

— "It’s our first Valentine’s Day since we found each other again, and…"

He trails off. But he doesn’t need to finish his sentence for me to understand"… And since we’ve finally stopped pretending."

Realizing he probably wouldn’t take the first step—held back by a fear I couldn’t quite place—I avert my gaze, gathering my courage, trying not to let hesitation win.

— "You know… I remember everything that happened at the Amusement Park. The way I tried to keep you close, how I refused to let us be separated again… And the way we kissed."

A heavy silence settles between us, thick with unspoken thoughts and unacknowledged fears. Still unable to look at him, I fix my gaze on a random spot in the room—until I feel it. His hand, hesitant and trembling, rests over mine.

— "You remember? But I thought… I see. I should have known."

His fingers tighten around mine, just slightly, but enough for me to notice. My heart hammers in my chest as I watch his expression shift—uncertainty, longing, something unspoken lingering in his gaze. I could end this moment here. Pretend I don’t see it. But I don’t want to. Taking a steady breath to compose myself, I place my hand on his chest.

— "Even if I wasn’t entirely myself that night, I don’t regret it. A part of me wanted it to happen… Maybe for far longer than I’ve been willing to admit."

A spark, one I thought had long since faded, reignites in his eyes. Without even realizing it, my fingers trace their way up to his cheek. He looks caught between joy and a deep, unshakable nervousness. I understand now, Caleb. You’re afraid… Afraid of what it would mean if all of this became real.

And I understand you.

— "Don’t move, please…"

His silence is all the consent I need. Slowly, I lean in and press a kiss to his lips. At first, it’s hesitant—timid, uncertain. But then, as if fearing the moment might slip away, his hand finds the small of my back, holding me close, grounding himself in this reality, making sure it’s real.

Something shifts within him. In one swift motion, he changes our positions, hovering over me on the couch. Our kiss breaks for just a moment. Breathless, my face burning, I meet his gaze—insistent, almost pleading.

He seems to understand, but instead of answering right away, he leans in, his lips brushing against my ear as he murmurs in a low, husky voice:

— "If only you knew how long I’ve been waiting for this… All these years, holding back… But the wait makes this moment even better."

As if savoring the moment, he trails soft kisses along my cheek, my forehead, the delicate skin beneath my eye—before finally returning to my lips. This kiss is nothing like the first—hungrier, more intense. His tongue teases at my lips, a silent request I grant without hesitation. In response, my fingers slide to the nape of his neck, tangling in his hair, deepening our connection. Then, suddenly, he pulls away.

Frustrated, I let out a quiet whimper of protest, which only makes him smile in amusement. Without missing a beat, he scoops me up into his arms, carrying me effortlessly toward my bedroom.

He’s always been gentle with me—it’s no surprise he’d want to treat me like the most precious thing in the world.

After carefully moving the pillows aside, Caleb lays me down on the bed before positioning himself above me.

— "I love seeing you smile. You look beautiful like this, Pipsqueak."

A soft smile forms on my lips as my fingers trace the delicate skin beneath his eyes, where a new light seems to shine.

— "That’s because you’re here with me. I’m happy."

He no longer tries to pull away. Our lips meet again, and this time, there’s no hesitation, no restraint—only raw intensity. The kiss is messy, feverish. A shiver runs through me as warm fingers slip beneath my shirt, but the touch suddenly halts midway.

— "Do you want this?"

I don’t need words—just a simple nod.

That’s all the confirmation needed. Letting instinct take over, he tugs at my shirt, struggling slightly to remove it, and I do the same with his. That body isn’t entirely unfamiliar, yet in this moment, I’m rediscovering every detail. My hand rests over his heart.

He’s here. With me.

I’m lifted slightly as he fumbles with the clasp of my bra, fingers clumsy yet determined. After a few failed attempts, he hesitates.

— "W-Wait… Let me do it."

Gently, I push his hands away and undo the garment myself, feeling his gaze lock onto me, entranced by what had remained hidden until now.

It’s true—he’s never had a girlfriend. And knowing him, he’s probably never made love before. Fingertips trace over the curves of my breasts, outlining invisible shapes.

— "Your skin… it’s so soft. Like velvet under my hands."

His fingers tremble slightly as they trace the outline of my skin. I can tell he’s nervous—unsure if he’s doing this right, if this is what I want. But he doesn’t pull away.

— "Is this okay?" His voice is quiet, almost breathless.

I nod, guiding his hand with mine, reassuring him in silence. This touch is more than just desire—it carries the weight of affection, of something deeper than simple longing.

His lips press against my collarbone, leaving a mark I already know will be visible by morning. Eyes closed, I let myself drown in these unfamiliar sensations, more intoxicating than I ever expected. Maybe because, deep down, I’ve been waiting for this moment far longer than I realized.

A tongue, eager yet hesitant, swirls lightly around my hardened nipples. He fumbles, inexperienced, but determined to give me pleasure.

Mouth trailing downward, he slows at the waistband of my pants. Eyes lift to meet mine, silently asking for permission—permission I grant without hesitation.

Fabric slides down my legs in a fluid motion, urgency evident in every movement. A second later, his own clothes follow. The impatience is undeniable… And I can’t say I mind.

"A-Are you sure you're okay, Pipsqueak? I'm not going too far?"

"Too far"… when every fiber of my being is craving more.

— "Not at all… In fact, I want more."

His relieved sigh brings a smile to my lips. I guide his hands to the last barrier of fabric between us, inviting him to remove it.

With a movement lacking precision, he slides it down my skin, letting it fall carelessly to the floor. His gaze sweeps over me from head to toe, filled with sincere, almost incredulous admiration.

— "You're beautiful…"

Hesitant, he leans in, lips brushing the inside of my thighs, leaving damp kisses in his wake, slow and deliberate. When he finally reaches his destination, he pauses, uncertain.

— "Do what feels natural. Don't force yourself… Just follow your instincts."

His fingers, guided by intuition, part me gently. A soft kiss lands on my most sensitive spot, hesitant but sincere, sending an involuntary shiver through me. When his tongue finally ventures forward, his movements, still unrefined, unravel me far faster than I expected.

— "You can… You can go harder, Caleb."

The words barely escape my lips before his finger slides into me with ease, welcomed by my own pleasure.

My mind turns hazy, vision blurring as he moves with growing confidence. My legs instinctively close around his head, my body trembling like a leaf caught in the wind.

Overwhelmed, my breath hitches, and tears prick the corners of my eyes under the sheer intensity of it all. It takes long seconds before I manage to catch my breath, fingers clinging to the sheets like a lifeline.

Slowly, my heartbeat steadies.

Through my tear-filled gaze—silent proof of the pleasure he just gifted me—I watch as he brings his fingers to his lips, tasting the remnants of my climax with almost devouring hunger.

— "Perfect… Everything about you is perfect, Pipsqueak. Your face, the curves of your body… even the way your eyes glisten after you come."

A shiver runs through me at his words. Slowly, I sit up, letting my fingers trail teasingly along the waistband of his boxers, tracing a light, playful line over the fabric.

— "I want more, Caleb…"

He raises an eyebrow, amusement flickering across his lips.

— "You've grown bolder while I was away…"

Noticing the faint hesitation beneath his usual confidence, I decide to push him a little further, keeping my touch featherlight.

— "Come on, pleeeaase—"

My words dissolve into a breathy gasp as he suddenly presses me back against the bed, his gaze taking on that commanding intensity—the same one that earned him the title of Colonel in the Farspace Fleet.

— "Is this really what you want, Pipsqueak?"

He searches my face for any trace of doubt, but I hold his gaze, unwavering. The tension eases from his features, and with a slow exhale, he sheds the last piece of clothing between us. A genuine smile spreads across my lips. He’s breathtaking. Years of training have sculpted his body into something almost unreal.

For a moment, I forget the presence of his bionic arm, hidden beneath layers of synthetic skin. Instinctively, my hand rests on his shoulder, a silent gesture of affection, of acceptance.

— "You’re unbelievably beautiful, you know that?"

He doesn’t reply—he doesn’t need to. Instead, he captures my lips in a searing kiss. My fingers roam down his back, skimming the curve of his waist, pulling him closer. Instinctively, my legs part to welcome him, and a quiet, startled sound escapes his throat. Adorable.

— "Hah… If only you knew how long I’ve wanted this… To be with you like this, to lose myself in you, with you."

His voice is low, unsteady with emotion. As he positions himself at my entrance, a flicker of hesitation crosses his expression. Without a word, I slip a hand into his hair, fingers threading gently through the strands, silently encouraging him.

His fingers trace my lips as our gazes remain locked, a silent understanding passing between us. This moment feels like a turning point—one we’ve long awaited, long desired… perhaps even feared. But now, it’s finally ours.

As he enters me, there’s a brief moment of discomfort, a slight unfamiliarity. He likely doesn’t realize his size, and my body takes a moment to adjust. But I say nothing, letting him take his time—letting myself ease into the sensation.

He buries his face in the crook of my neck, moving with slow, deliberate motions. His breath, hot and uneven against my skin, tells me he’s struggling to hold back.

There’s a hesitance in his rhythm, a raw eagerness tempered by uncertainty. Gently, I press my hand against his chest, signaling him to pause.

— “C-Caleb, wait… please.”

He stills instantly, concern flashing across his face as though afraid he’s hurt me.

— “Are you okay, Pips? Did I—”

I hush him with a soft touch, shaking my head.

— “I’m fine… don’t worry. But let me take the lead, okay? This way, I can guide you… show you what feels good.”

For a moment, surprise flickers in his eyes, but then he smiles, fingers brushing through my hair.

— “Alright… I trust you.”

When he shifts onto his back, I straddle him, taking my time to settle against him. His hands find mine, pressing them against his chest, where I can feel the frantic rhythm of his heartbeat.

Leaning down, I capture his lips in a slow kiss, guiding him back into me. A sharp inhale escapes him, his breath shattering into a quiet moan. And at that moment, a thought sears through my mind—that sound… I want to hear it again.

Moving with precision, I set a measured pace, watching as pleasure washes over his expression. Seeing him surrender to the sensation, abandon himself to my touch… it sends a rush through me, intoxicating in its own right.

His grip tightens on my hips, wordlessly urging me to move faster. My fingers cradle his face, trying to ground myself against the rising intensity.

— “God… this feels incredible…”

At those words, Caleb pulls me against him, his need for closeness sending a shiver down my spine. His embrace is firm, his face buried in the curve of my neck, and I sink deeper into the warmth of his body.

His lips trace the path of a vein along my throat, his tongue flickering against my skin, drawing a soft moan from my lips. I bite down on his shoulder, trying to stifle the sound, but I can feel the way it affects him—the tension in his body, the way his breath falters.

Our bodies move together, feverish and eager, heat pooling between us as we lose ourselves in each other. I cup his jaw, tilting his face up so our eyes meet. His cheeks are flushed, his breathing ragged.

— "Pipsqueak, I… I don’t know how much longer I can hold on."

My nails dig into his back, leaving faint red lines along his skin. A low, guttural sound escapes him—not one of pain, but of pleasure.

— "A-Ah… Are you trying to leave your mark on me?" His voice is rough, teasing despite the strain in it. "I hope I’m the only one who gets to be on the receiving end of this." A smirk tugs at my lips.

— "You don’t have to worry about that… Besides, you’ve marked me, too. It’s only fair."

Our rhythm grows erratic, the restraint between us unraveling. I can see it in his eyes—he’s as close to the edge as I am, both of us caught in a silent battle to hold on just a little longer.

— "Caleb… Please, don’t hold back. I want all of you—I want you to leave your mark on me, to make me yours."

A shudder racks through me, my body tensing as the pleasure crests, overwhelming and all-consuming. My vision blurs, my fingers clutching at him desperately, grounding myself in his presence.

— "Pipsqueak… I—"

His voice breaks as he follows, surrendering to the moment, to me. His arms wrap around me tightly, as if anchoring himself, as if afraid to let go. A tender kiss lands on my forehead, his gaze meeting mine, filled with something deep, something raw. His fingers brush my cheek, reverent.

— "Tonight… was the best night of my life. Thank you."

I press a soft kiss to his jaw, nestling closer against him. Our bodies remain entwined, warmth lingering between us, until sleep finally claims us both. ══════⊹⊱≼≽⊰⊹══════

Last night, I gave myself to Caleb completely. He has left an indelible mark on me. I am his, just as he is mine. A soft ray of sunlight filters through my curtains, gently pulling me from the depths of sleep. As I blink my eyes open, I realize Caleb is still asleep beside me. The sight of his peaceful face makes me smile, but another sensation quickly brings me back to reality.

He stayed inside me all night?

Strangely, the thought doesn’t unsettle me. If anything, it soothes me—like he’s filled a space within me that I never knew was empty. Caleb stirs slightly, a sleepy groan escaping his lips as he shifts closer to me. A thin trail of drool slips down his lower lip, and I bite back a laugh as I reach out to wipe it away. His eyes flutter open, still heavy with sleep.

— “Mmm… morning,” he mumbles, voice rough and warm.

I chuckle, threading my fingers through his hair.

— “Good morning, sleepyhead.”

He rubs at his eyes, blinking at me in the soft light. Then, as if remembering the night before, a slow, lazy smile spreads across his lips.

— “You stayed.”

I arch an eyebrow.

— “You’re in my bed, dummy. I think that means you stayed.”

He hums in mock consideration.

—“Fair point.” Then, quieter, “I still can’t believe this is real.”

I roll onto my side, reaching for the necklace around his neck—the one I gave him long ago—and roll the pendant between my fingers.

— “I’ve been meaning to tell you this for a while, but… I adore you.” He raises an eyebrow, feigning confusion.

— "Adore, huh?"

Embarrassed, I hide my face in my hands. He knows exactly what I mean, yet he still loves to tease me, just to see my reaction. I shift closer to him, and he presses a kiss to the top of my head.

— "Me too, Pipsqueak… I love you. Maybe even more than you realize."

We stay like that, wrapped in each other’s warmth, savoring the moment. The golden morning light spills into the room, a silent witness to the depth of our emotions, reflecting the love we share.

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rcklessheavn · 3 days ago

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𝐬𝐩𝐨𝐫𝐭𝐬 𝐜𝐚𝐫 ── ★ ˙🏎️ ̟ !!

f1 driver!matt x influencer!reader au

summary: after influencer!reader is invited to give interviews at the grand prix event, she meets matt and everything changes for both of them.

pt. 1

warning: none

disclaimer: english is NOT my first language

Yy/n.y/l posted

liked by nicolassturniolo, tarayummy, samgolbach, & 110.8k others

2,345 comments

y/n.y/l i am already in love with you, monaco <3

nicolassturniolo i'm so excited to finally meet you!!

y/n.y/l same king sameee💗💗

tarayummy yessss queen!!! i´m so excited for you!!!

y/n.y/l thx bff!! ily <3

vinniehacker see u soon sis!!

y/n.y/l i still can't believe youre coming... they let anyone in these days🤩

vinniehacker ok rudeeeeee😔😔

y/nfan.user OMG IM SO PROUD OF YOUUUU!!

y/n.y/l couldnt have done it without you guys!!!💐

y/n.sturniolos22 WAIT WHAT IF SHE MEETS MATT!!!!

y/nlovesferrari OH GIRL I JUST KNOW THE VLOG WILL EATTT‼️‼️

sturniolos_fan OMG FINALLY!! SHE MADE IT!!! CANT WAIT FOR THE CONTENT!!!!!

Back to the beginning...

It all started one morning when you were filming a ‘day in the life’ vlog, an audience favorite. Everyone loved seeing how monotone—or exciting—your day could be, depending on your schedule that day. Your specialty was vlogging, mainly showcasing how far from perfect your life actually was, while still expressing how grateful and blessed you felt. And everyone loved you for it.

That filming day, you were being productive: cleaning your apartment, running errands, and answering emails by midday. As you scrolled through your inbox, a red, very familiar logo caught your eye. It had just landed in your inbox. The bright F1 logo made you freeze in your tracks.

Your whole life, you’d been a fan of Formula 1—blame Cars the movie, and your dad and older brother for waking up early to watch races when it was still strawberry shortcake and breakfast time. You grew up alongside race cars and Formula 1, and more specifically, Ferrari. They were your team since you could remember. So when you quickly scrolled down, eager to verify if the email was real, you saw both the Formula 1 and Ferrari logos. You thought you might faint.

You composed yourself and started reading:

YOU’RE INVITED TO THE MONACO GRAND PRIX

Dear Y/N L/N,

We are huge fans of your content and find it extremely engaging. We’ve heard of your love and admiration for both Formula 1 and our Ferrari family. We are inspired by your adventurous spirit and would like to support you through a partnership and experience that could benefit both you and us.

Our Ferrari family would like to present you with a proposal to experience our Grand Prix in Monaco! We will cover all your travel expenses, including air tickets and hotel stays. We would also love for you to interview our drivers and create content for our social media.

We look forward to hearing back from you.

Sincerely,

The Ferrari and Formula 1 Family.

You couldn’t believe what you were reading. This was your dream, something you’d always imagined, and now it was actually happening. You grabbed your camera, focused it on yourself, and began recording.

“Guys! I just got the most exciting and unbelievable email ever! Without revealing too much, I just want to say how thankful and blessed I am to have you all with me! I’m about to fulfill a lifetime dream, and I couldn’t have done it without you! This vlog is going to be so exciting, so stay tuned!” With a bright smile, you stopped the camera, and the realization of what was happening hit you.

You quickly grabbed your phone and called your agent, Hailey, just to confirm it was real and that everything was going to happen. The phone rang twice before Hailey picked up.

“DID YOU SEE THE F1 EMAIL?!” you blurted out.

Hailey chuckled. “YOU FINALLY SAW IT! I’ve been reading it for over 15 minutes waiting for your call!” she said, and you laughed.

“Well, I just saw it! Please tell me I can do it and that I’m free to go!” you begged.

She sighed dramatically. “I’d rather jump out of my third-floor window right now than tell you no. Did you really think you wouldn’t go? Your dad would kill me, your brother would kill me, your mom would kill me, and YOU most of all would kill me. And listen, even if we had something scheduled for those dates, I’d call in every favor just to move it. Oh, girl, we are going to Monaco!”

Hailey’s excitement made you grin. “UGH, Hails, you're the best!” you said.

“Yeah, I know. That’s why I’m employed,” she teased.

You both laughed, and then she became all business again. “Okay, I’ll email them back. You focus on looking for hotels, and we’ll regroup tomorrow to have a nice meeting and schedule everything. Sound good?”

“Absolutely perfect! I’ll call you tomorrow!” You both said your goodbyes and hung up. Everything felt like a dream, and you couldn’t wait for this adventure to begin.

The next few weeks were a blur of planning, scheduling, and packing for your dream trip. You vlogged every moment without revealing exactly where you were going, leaving your audience hanging. Your excitement was almost overwhelming, but you couldn’t deny the nerves creeping in. The idea of being surrounded by people you admired, the ones you’d seen on screens for years, was crazy to you.

The one thing you were most excited about? The interviews. You had no idea who would actually be willing to sit down with an influencer, but you didn’t care. What made your heart race was the thought of interviewing a certain driver—Matt Sturniolo.

He was an American, a triplet, and a rising star in Formula 1. Was he your celebrity crush? Not really. But, you weren’t blind. He had an amazing presence, both on and off the track. Funny enough, his brother Nick was a mutual friend on Instagram, and you’d talked a few times about hanging out at the Grand Prix, neither of you knowing who’d be there. Nick was an influencer with his own lip balm brand, Space Camp, which you loved—it was genuinely good stuff.

Chris, the other brother, was a loud, lovable figure in the social media world, owning his own clothing brand, Fresh Love, which was wildly successful. As for Matt, he was the quieter one in the triplet group, but still had a natural charisma that came through, especially in his brothers' videos. His passion for racing started at a young age, eventually leading him to Ferrari—the team he’d always dreamed of driving for.

You were definitely looking forward to interviewing him. You hoped you’d get to see beyond his public persona and uncover a little more of who he was—at least on the surface.

Present Day...

You’d landed in Monaco 12 hours ago, and so far, jet lag hadn’t been an issue. You’d managed to sleep through the entire flight. Arriving in the morning gave you the chance to explore the city and even see the track with a few others who had arrived early.

That night, you had nothing planned, so you decided to treat yourself to room service and relax. Tomorrow marked the official start of the event and all the activities you had lined up. You couldn't contain your excitement, so you made a small post on Instagram, revealing where you were. You scrolled through a few stories, liked some posts, and finally went to bed.

Tomorrow was going to be unreal.

a story by rcklessheavn

⋆. 𐙚 ˚ series link

⋆˙⟡ tag list

⤷ authors note: AHHHH!!!! i cant believe i'm finally starting this!! i had so much fun doing this, i hope you guys enjoy this first one :))

@courta13 @matthewsroses @mattswifeyy @sturniolomatthewb @nessabarretswhore @nickmillersn1gf @mattslefttoenail @thecrawlys @tuttifruttixx @obsessedwiththesturniolos @period-queen1 @pair-of-pantaloons @b4by-hon3y @idkwhatthisis2009 @malsmind @matts-247

#۫ ꣑ৎ sports car by cam ۫ ꣑ৎ #༺ stories by cam ༻#sturniolo triplets #chris sturniolo #matt sturniolo #nick sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #matt stuniolo fanfic #chris sturiolo fanfic #nicolas sturniolo #matt sturniolo fluff #sturniolo #matt sturniolo x reader #matthew sturniolo #matt sturniolo smut #rcklessheavn writes #chratt #chris sturniolo fluff

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lucitumb1r · 3 hours ago

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“EVERYONE SHUT UP!” You yell at full volume, something you usually reserve for calling your fellow lumberjacks that it’s lunchtime.

As expected, everyone falls silent. Though your baby sisters pleading eyes feel like a never ending stream of soft whispers to believe her.

You turn to the only person wearing a suit in the middle of summer. “What are you claiming she has done?” You ask respectfully.

The man smiles with blinding white teeth and straightens out his jacket. “I’ve been informed that this little lady,” He gestures to your baby sister. “Has wrecked the east side of my new shopping mall.” He chuckles like it’s a joke. “So I’m here to iron out how we’ll be handling the situation.”

You nod. “And you’ve reviewed the evidence?” The man is quick to nod confidently. “Yes, the security camera’s captured her clearly throwing an invisible monster.” You nod again. “And can I view this footage? I’m legally obliged since I am her guardian.”

The man stutters for a moment at that, clearly surprised at a man in his early twenties to have a teenage child. “I suppose..” He sounds disappointed but his smile never leaves, wonder if he learned that from his wife.

You see the footage, and it clearly shows your sister, transformed and everything, wrecking a monster’s life. Though the monster can’t be captured on footage.

“So you see, here we are.” The man says once the footage is done playing. You nod again. “Yes, I wish you the best of luck with finding that magical girl, anyway me and my sister will be going now.” And you start to walk away.

The man is quick to stop you. “Now hold on a moment! This girl is a magical girl! I saw her detransform!” You stop. “You saw her?” “Yes!”

You turn to your little sister. “Honey, if someone sees you detransform, you have to give up being a magical girl.” She looks at you with tears in her eyes and nods, unable to speak past the grief in her throat. “Are you okay with giving that up?” You ask patiently. She looks away before nodding weakly. A lie, you know.

You pat her on the head. “Why don’t you go ahead and head home? I’ll take care of everything over here.” She looks shocked but before she can say anything you put a finger to her lips. “Don’t worry, everything will be fine. I’m proud of you.” And before long she’s on her way.

You turn back to the man, who is smiling smugly. “I don’t plan on telling anyone who she is, if she pays me back the damages, with interest.”

You chuckle, almost as if in agreement.

“Here’s my offer. You walk away, right now, and just ask the government to reimburse you. Or, I’ll make sure you can’t walk away.”

The man lets out a deep and harsh laugh, as if the idea alone amuses him more than anything else has this conversation. “Oh please! I’d much rather have both the government and the little girl pay me. She might not be legally responsible, but I know who she is.”

You take a step back and let out a sigh. “Alright. Where does your wife live?” He looks affronted at the random question. You realise how that sounded. “Oh! No, I’ll need to know where to send the card for the funeral.” And you punch him in the gut, forcing him to throw up. While he’s still winded, you grab his throat and lift him up.

“Y’know? We’re in public right now. Sure a random parking lot, but anyone could hypothetically spot us.” As he grabs and scratches at your hand, you happily continue your monologue.

“And yet I know that no one will see this. I know I’ll never hear back from what I’m doing right now.” You say as the man’s eyes bulge. His mouth is dribbling spit as he lets out small noises to hint at his struggle for breath. The man tries to swing his weight back and forth to squeeze free of your grip, but you’ve dealt with logs covered in moss. He won’t get away.

“You wanna know why that is? It’ll sound familiar.” You tell him smugly as you watch his last moments of conscious thought start to flicker.

You move him closer to you, and whisper. “Because everyone will choose to look away. You’ve served yourself and no one else for decades. So now, when you need help, everyone serves themselves.” His eyes roll back and you wait a few extra seconds. “Leaving you out to dry.”

Once you’re certain he has passed, you drop the body and wipe the wayward spit off of your hand. Then, you start the walk home, thinking of what to get for dinner.

Maybe pork?

You’re certainly in the mood for pig.

Magical girls kill monsters all the time, but they're not allowed to kill humans. But you're not a magical girl; you're her older brother.

#writeblr #writers on tumblr #writers #writing inspiration #writing prompts #writing #darker #violence tw #close enough anyway

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theshycousin · 3 days ago

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More David and Angel headcannons!

- They are so Simply Nailogical and Ben coded

- Angel and Darlin platonically flirt with each other (after Angel got over their jealousy)

- No one really knows how much money David has

- David only ever uses a stern tone with Angel; he has never yelled at them

- Angel has never yelled at David either

- David cups the back of Angel’s neck when kissing them

- Angel is phenomenal at telling stories and loves to read

- David buys Angel books on numerous occasions

- David “ ‘oh yeah?’ *kisses Angel to shut them up*” Shaw

- They both smell very good. David smells like the forest, Angel smells like the ocean

- Angel has the coolest earring stacks (they are a silver person)

- (I fear I’ve been exposed to a lot of angst today so…apologies) if David were to pass away unexpectedly, Angel would never re-marry/see anyone else

- Angel does not play about David’s safety. If they are not with him they are texting and checking up constantly

- David flips shit when someone makes Angel upset. I.e “Why is Angel upset? Who upset them? What did you do?”

- Both of them are very punctual and usually arrive to things at least 10 minutes early

- Angel climbs on countertops when they need to get things that are out of their reach

- When David found out Quinn was still on the run, he was especially overprotective of Angel since they are unempowered

- Angel has only ever hurt themselves a few times while cooking, but David insists on helping them bandage themselves to make sure it’s done right

- David loves Angel’s natural hair, but they usually style it to make it “look better”

- David has crazy fast reflexes

- they are both very conscious about not waking one up if the other is sleeping (so like being extra quiet or leaving the bed very slowly)

- Asher and Angel have listened to songs for FNAF or Bendy and the Ink Machine or like Undertale

- Angel’s nightstand has everything from a stack of books to a few loose ibuprofens

#redacted audio #redacted david #redacted angel #redactedverse #redacted headcanons

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sturniololuvz · 1 day ago

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Omg Hii!! I love all your sturniolo little sister fics and k was wondering if you could do one where she is maybe 14 or 15 and she goes to get her wisdom teeth removed and shes really scared and they comfort her while she’s getting them out and after she’s done? Sorry that was a really long sentence 😂!

lmaoooooo yes

“Wisdom Teeth & Secrets”

Sturniolos x sister

Warnings : none

Y/N was freaking out.

She sat in the dentist’s office, gripping the armrests of the chair like she was about to be executed. Her heart was pounding, her palms were sweaty, and her brothers—Matt, Nick, and Chris—were standing around her, trying (and failing) to calm her down.

“Dude, it’s not that bad,” Nick said, sitting on the stool next to her.

Y/N shot him a glare. “Not that bad? They’re gonna rip my teeth out.”

Chris smirked. “Technically, they’re cutting them out.”

“CHRIS!” Matt smacked the back of his head.

“What? I’m just being factual.”

Y/N groaned, throwing her head back. “I wanna go home.”

Matt grabbed her hand. “You’re gonna be okay, bug. I promise.”

She exhaled shakily. “But what if—”

“Nope,” Chris cut her off, grabbing her other hand. “No ‘what ifs.’ You’re gonna go in there, let them do their thing, and when you wake up, we’re taking you to get ice cream.”

Nick nodded. “And you’ll probably say some dumb shit while you’re still drugged up, so honestly, it’ll be fun for us.”

Y/N groaned again. “I hate you all.”

Matt grinned. “Love you too, kid.”

Then the nurse walked in, smiling kindly. “Alright, Y/N, we’re ready for you.”

She froze.

Matt squeezed her hand. “You got this.”

Chris nudged her. “Be a champ.”

Nick smiled. “We’ll be right here when you wake up.”

Y/N exhaled, nodded hesitantly, and followed the nurse.

When she woke up, she was high as hell.

The first thing she saw was Matt sitting next to her, and she immediately burst into tears.

“Mattyyyy,” she slurred, grabbing his face.

Matt blinked. “Oh, God.”

Nick and Chris walked in at that exact moment, and Y/N immediately reached for Chris.

“CHWISSY!”

Chris cackled. “Oh, she’s gone.”

Nick pulled out his phone, already recording.

“Do you feel okay?” Matt asked gently, brushing her hair back.

Y/N sniffled dramatically. “I love you soooo much.”

Chris snorted. “Dude, we know.”

She turned to Nick, her face dead serious. “You’re my favorite.”

Chris gasped. “EXCUSE ME?”

Matt raised a brow. “Since when?”

Y/N just giggled, leaning into Nick. “He’s so cute.”

Nick lost it. “What?”

Chris looked offended. “You think Nick is cute? I’M cute.”

Y/N waved him off. “Shhh, you’re annoying.”

Matt smirked. “She’s finally being honest.”

Chris gasped again. “Bro, I’ve been carrying you all day, and this is the thanks I get?”

Then Y/N giggled. “I have a secret.”

Nick’s eyes widened. “Oh, let’s hear it.”

Matt warned, “Dude, don’t take advantage of her being drugged up.”

Chris ignored him. “Nah, spill.”

Y/N grinned, looking mischievous. “I stole your hoodie last week.”

Chris gasped for the third time. “I KNEW IT!”

Nick laughed. “Oh, she’s wild.”

Y/N pointed at Matt. “You have a crush on that girl from the grocery store.”

Matt’s face turned red. “What?”

Chris and Nick turned to him immediately. “Wait, WHO?”

Matt groaned. “Y/N, shut up.”

She giggled. “I saw you looking at her.”

Chris laughed so hard he had to sit down. “THIS IS THE BEST DAY EVER.”

Nick wiped a fake tear. “I’m so proud.”

Y/N yawned, leaning into Matt’s chest. “I wanna go home.”

Matt sighed, rubbing her back. “Yeah, okay, let’s get you out of here.”

Chris smirked. “I’m posting all of this.”

Nick grinned. “Oh, for sure.”

Y/N mumbled, “I hate you guys.”

Matt kissed the top of her head. “Love you too, bug.”

#chris sturniolo #matt sturniolo #sturniolo triplets #sturniolo fanfic #chris sturniolo x reader #chris sturniolo x you #christopher sturniolo #nick sturniolo #matt sturniolo x reader #matt stuniolo fanfic #sturniolo #matthew sturniolo #nicolas sturniolo #sturniolo x reader #sister sturniolo #sturniolo series

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blade-dressed-in-red · 16 hours ago

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heart-shaped bandages

pairing: noah sebastian x f!reader

content warnings: mentions of minor injury and blood, reader opens up about sensitive memories, but besides that just fluff!

A/N: this idea came to me from realizing i’ve placed bandages on multiple people but have never gotten the same treatment, so here’s this very self-indulgent thing. this is also inspired by a cheeseburger soup recipe off pinterest.

It was nearing the end of the day. you could see the sun starting to set through the windows, golden light dripping onto the floor and furniture. You and Noah had a relaxed but productive day of curling up on the couch while the rottweiler you two adopted when she was a puppy, Princess, laid in her dog bed on the floor. You spent most of the day corresponding to work emails on your laptop while Noah did his own respective work on his. One of the collaborative playlists you two made together on spotify has been playing on the tv throughout the day. Your legs were draped over his lap, wearing (drowning in) one of his hoodies with sleep shorts and some fuzzy socks. Noah was sporting a similar getup, his own hoodie (that fit properly), black workout shorts, with some Naruto socks.

Once realizing it was starting to get closer to dinner time, you averted your attention away from your laptop to ask him

“Are you getting hungry, bub?”

Noah looked up from his laptop to answer you, his warm eyes meeting your gaze, framed with his glasses since he was looking at a screen all day.

“A little bit, did you wanna order in or make something?” he asked with a soft smile.

You returned the smile before answering, “I think we have the ingredients to make that soup we like, do you want me to make that?”

His soft gaze perks up, “yeah, that actually sounds really good right now,” his smile grew wider.

He's always enjoyed your cooking (even if you occasionally burnt the food). Sometimes you even let him help you out, but it usually results in a mini-food fight. Someone “accidentally” gets food on the other, resulting in random bits and pieces of discarded food getting thrown back and forth, ensued by fits of giggles and usually a pot of water boiling over since neither of you were paying attention.

While getting up from your spot on the couch, you assured Noah you didn’t need any help this time, both of you knowing he still had some more work to get done before calling it a day. He reminded you that if you needed anything, he was just a room away. While you always enjoy Noah's company, there is something comforting and tranquil about cooking by yourself, knowing that you’re making something tasty and healthy for your beloved in the next room over.

Princess followed you into the kitchen, but soon realized her dog bed was more comfortable and made her way back into the living room. You began getting out all the ingredients and utensils needed, putting the broth into a pot to begin boiling on the stove. In the meantime you decided to start cutting the vegetables. Swiftly getting through the carrots and began cutting the celery. However, your attention was immediately drawn away when you heard commotion coming from the living room, followed by a chuckled “oh my god” and rummaging. Unfortunately your body didn’t have the time to react and continued chopping, resulting in you slicing your index finger on the knife.

“Shit!” you yelped out through gritted teeth. you immediately dropped the knife on the counter to hold your finger in your other hand.

You realized Noah had stopped fixing whatever it was that caused the noise. He immediately rushed to be by your side, basically teleporting to you when he heard your wince. He was quickly followed in by Princess.

“What happened?” he asked with his brows slightly furrowed and a look of worry in his eyes, immediately drawn to where you were holding your finger.

“It’s nothing, just a cut”

You tried to ease him since you could tell he was getting more worried once he saw the blood seeping from the wound onto your hands.

“Sweetheart, you’re bleeding” he responded with a comforting tone but his concern still wavered through. He grabbed your finger to fully inspect the damage.

“It's really nothing bub, I'm just gonna go up to the bathroom to deal with it. I'll be right back.”

But before you could start making your way out of the kitchen, Noah softly grabs your hips to still you and grabs a clean dish rag from the drawer and gently but firmly holds your cut finger with it. You couldn’t form any verbal response to his action, as no one has ever really paid much attention when you accidentally hurt yourself in the recent past. the most prominent memory being when you’d scrape your knee on the cement as a child and your mom would put a Scooby Doo bandaid on it and seal it with a kiss. It also reminded you that you’ve always tried to help others whenever they got an injury, no matter how old they were or how minor the wound was.

While holding your finger with firm pressure to help stop the bleeding, Noah noticed your expression went blank. He pondered on asking you about it, but figured he would bring it up later and continue with the task at hand: fixing you up.

Noah adjusted his stance from slightly bending to normal height, he places your free hand to hold your wounded finger.

“Keep putting pressure on it” he requests with a soft yet stern tone. He turned the burner off then returned to you. He bent down, one arm under your knees and another supporting your back to pick you up bridal style. This quickly snapped you out of your pensive state.

“What are you doing?” you asked, confused with the sudden movement of being picked up suddenly.

After making sure he had a stable grip on you, he turned his head slightly to meet your eyes.

“I'm gonna take care of you,” and with that, the melancholic feeling inside mixed with something lighter.

Before you knew it, Noah had already brought you to the second floor of the house, carrying you to the master bathroom. Once inside, he set you on the ground gently and closed the door behind you two so Princess didn’t follow you two in.

“Sit there, and keep your finger above your heart. It’ll help slow the bleeding,” he stated as he gestured for you to sit on the lid of the toilet seat while he rummaged through the cabinets. Keeping your finger still wrapped in the kitchen rag near your collarbone. You stared at Noah like a curious puppy, waiting to see what he’d pull out. Eventually, he located the large first aid kit from the cabinet, which you forgot was in there. You could only recall where miscellaneous bandages were placed. Noah immediately went into nurse-mode, grabbing everything he thought he would need to help bandage you up, definitely got out more than required for such a minor injury but the action warmed your heart even more.

As he stood with all the first aid contents laid out on the counter, he softly asked “Can you please come here so I can wash your cut properly?” motioning to the sink. You raised to your feet and made the short distance to the sink. Noah quickly discarded the kitchen rag into the hamper and inspected the cut further before carefully running your finger under the cool water. While you felt cared for, as Noah always made you feel, you knew he still had some work to catch up on and felt this procedure was unnecessary for him to be doing.

“Noah, you really don’t have to do all this. I can handle it by myself” you told him in a hushed tone, even though it was only you two in the house.

“I know you can handle it, but I want to help you.. please let me take care of you darling.” he looked at you with a concerned but loving look, his brows furrowed and a pout he didn’t realize he was doing, but that was all it took for you to fully accept his care. With that, the heartrending feeling inside of you grew even smaller.

Once Noah believed your wound was clean enough, he carefully dried it with some gauze from the first aid kit.

“Could you please sit back down for me, love?” he asked sweetly. You couldn’t help but feel butterflies with how loving he was being, a common occurrence between you two.

He grabbed the ointment then followed to where you sat, kneeling down to meet your height. He was being so careful with you and walked you through each step of the process as if he was an actual healthcare professional.

“I'm going to apply this to prevent any possible infection, okay?”

You nodded in response, even though you already knew what it was for. He squeezed out the appropriate amount and attentively applied it to the cut, careful not to cause any more pain to you (even though it wasn’t very painful to begin with). When applying the ointment, you noticed he was so focused that his tongue was sticking out of his mouth a tiny bit, causing you to stifle a giggle at how adorable he looked. He was too focused on applying the ointment to notice.

When he was satisfied with the application, he got up to grab a bandage from the counter. He pulled out a variety of different boxes earlier and looked through them all, trying to find the appropriate size. He eventually landed on one, came back over to you and kneeled down again. after giving you a quick peck to your forehead, he opened up the bandage package. you were expecting a normal beige bandage, but what you didn’t realize was Noah managed to find some Scooby Doo bandaids, similar to the ones your mom used to use for your cuts and scrapes. The realization made you start tearing up, all the memories from childhood aligning with this point in time, the feeling of everything from the past fell into place for this moment with the love of your life.

Noah was still attending to your wound, gently applying the bandage to your finger, making sure the design wasn’t askewed, then sealed it with a kiss. When he looked up, he noticed you were starting to silently cry

He softly grabbed your face, his own full of worry. He had his other hand still holding your newly bandaged hand. He swept away some of the stray tears.

“What's wrong angel? Did I do something?” he was unsure if he accidentally hurt you enough to cause this.

“N-no you didn’t do anything.. I’m sorry for crying i-it’s just… where did you find these? I haven't seen them in stores since I was a child.” you quickly rasped out, wiping the tears that refused to stop falling.

He let out a light chuckle, but it didn’t reach his eyes which were still troubled from your state.

“Kind of an odd story.. Do you remember when we were going through old photos of us when we were kids?”

“Yeah” you squeaked out.

“Well there was one photo of you with a Scooby Doo bandaid on your elbow, I think from when you tried skateboarding and it didn’t end well. but I- uh, I thought it would be cute to get some online for purposes like these.. I'm sorry if it was a bad idea, I can get you a different one if you’d prefer.”

He quickly got to his feet to turn to the bathroom counter, but you grabbed his hoodie before he could step away.

“N-no it’s fine. I-I like it.. thank you, Noah”

“Then what’s got you upset?”

“It’s silly really.. it doesn’t matter. I’m all bandaged up so I can continue with dinner an-”

Noah cut you off, “The soup can wait, I wanna know what’s happening up here” . He took the hand that was resting on your cheek and tenderly poked your forehead, then placed it back on your cheek.

“I saw the look on your face earlier, I just wanna make sure you’re okay, angel.”

“W-well, when you first started taking care of me in the kitchen, I realized that no one has ever really helped me take care of any sort of wounds, not since I was a child at least. But I've had so many instances of taking care of other people, l-like when the guitar string snapped and you got that gash on your hand.. a-and have always just thought it would be nice to receive the same care..”

“Honey.. that isn’t silly at all. I’m glad I could be the one to take care of you, in fact I enjoyed it minus the fact it involved you getting hurt. I'll take care of you no matter how big or small the injury is. Hell, there doesn’t even need to be an injury. I love caring for you and I love you.”

The tears continued to fall from admitting your “not silly” confession, but they turned to loving tears once you heard Noah's piece about it.

With a sniffle, you responded “I love you too. Thank you for taking care of me, bub.”

He grabbed your unbandaged hand, and raised you to your feet to engulf you in a hug. With a kiss to your forehead,“Anything for you sweetheart.”

Just then, you heard a loud thud coming from the kitchen, you and Noah quickly turned to run out and down the stairs to see what mischievous act your dog-daughter was up to. You two came entered the kitchen to Princess standing on her hind legs, with her front paws on the kitchen counter eating the celery and carrots with the cutting board on the floor. Thankfully, you dropped the knife in the middle of the island, along with any ingredients that could be dangerous to her (parental instincts). Once noticing you two were there, she immediately got down on the floor and pretended nothing ever happened. Noah went to put the cutting board back on the counter.

“This reminds me, what was the noise that caused this?” You raised your bandaged finger for emphasis.

“Oh, Princess rolled over in her dog bed and managed to knock over the side table with her back,” Noah giggled.

You went to the living room to see the damage, Noah following behind. Thankfully, it wasn’t terrible. The table and its contents were still on the floor since Noah rushed into the kitchen before fixing it. You set the table upright while Noah grabbed the scattered remotes and controllers from the floor. As you were putting everything back in its place, you heard another thud from the kitchen and looked over to Noah, who looked at you with the same entertained but slightly annoyed expression.

“Well, I guess the ingredients for the soup have been stolen by someone” you said amusingly.

“I'll start a delivery order, the usual?”

“Yep.”

ok this was my time doing anything like this so i hope you enjoyed and if you have any feedback let me know!! thanks for reading <3

dividers

tag list: @xmads-omensx @alwaysfightforwhoyouare

#noah sebastian #noah sebastian x reader #noah sebastian fic #noah sebastian fluff #bad omens #blade-dressed-in-red

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running-with-kn1ves · 1 day ago

Text

Sinful Temptations

A/N: So an anon asked for a nsfw succubus but I kind of FORGOT-- so here's this thing I started in like November. OH and happy body positivity month!

Synopsis: You work a few blocks away from the local monster strip club where you’ve garnered the attention and affection of a flirty succubus.

CW: Stripper succubus, alcohol, demonic intoxication, demonic feeding, mentions of sex work, reader is down bad but plays it off all chill guy-like

It was a Wednesday-- a stupid, stupid Wednesday. Not yet late enough in the week to justify staying up late to devour sugary treats and watch guilty pleasure movies, yet not early enough for you to have the motivation to keep yourself going. So what does a lonely, self-loathing, gas station attendant do after their shift? Sink to the lowest hole downtown for some sappy, self-bought comfort.

A beer in one hand for show, the other a folded wad of ones and tens. Working nightly shifts at a near-abandoned shop next to the highway doesn’t give you a lot of spending money. This was what you were supposed to spend on your utility bill. But hey, you can keep showering at the gym, using the microwave at work to make your dinners. It’s not like you haven’t done it before.

You anxiously wait by the bar, feeling out of place like you always did. It didn’t explicitly say ‘NO HUMANS’ on the outside of the club, but it certainly felt that way when millions of eyes and snouts were directed towards you, giving you glares and sniffs in bemusement.

But you only came here searching for one thing. One monster. Despite the vampires attempting to give you bottle service, the centaur guarding the entrance, the eight-eyed bartender you assumed was some kind of hybrid-- they weren’t what you were keeping a look out for. Besides, who knew if they were willing to associate with a human in any kind of way--- the kinds of monsters who would were labeled as fetishists, or at the very least below their kind for choosing a mortal of low value to be with, rather than one of their own.

You scanned the dimmed, flashing room for the sound of fluttering wings, the monster’s sleek black horns that made her stand out from the rest of the crowd.

It took you only a moment, watching her come from the back room covered by a silky curtain, velvet ropes cutting off any unwanted visitors.

She looked tired, giving an unusually exhausted furrow as she held an empty glass, lipstick stain pressed to the side of it.

She was… so captivating. Ethereal, unlike any creature you’ve seen before. You would never admit to being enraptured by her-- there was no chance of it coming to anything, so you wouldn’t dare utter the idea in your mind. But your eyes lingered on her, desperate for her to look at you, an aching in your heart to have her pin you against an alley wall outside of this humid, wet club. Somewhere you knew she would be real with her affections, not just offering a facade from the kindness of her job.

You knew whatever sixth sense she had could feel you staring, her head turning to see the culprit of the longing gleams.

“Oh, honey!” She shouted over the music, raspy and higher than her normal tone.

She walked your way, only needing to take a few steps to reach the other side of the club with those infinitely long legs of hers. You kept your eyes up and in contact with hers, shoving the money in your pocket to not seem like a sleaze. You wouldn’t dare linger your eyes on her body, on all the distinct parts that made heat rise to your cheeks, too afraid of insulting her.

“Megaera,” You breathed, sighing out of relief that she found you first. You’d hate to come crawling to her like a kicked puppy, tapping on her shoulder for attention.

She kissed your cheeks, leaving a small cherry purple stain. You attempt to do the same to her but are unable to make contact with her cold cheek.

“How have you been? It’s been a while since I’ve seen you here.”

She rubbed at the marks she left on your face with her thumbs, holding your cheeks delicately in her large palms.

You had little experience with monsters outside this club, but still... You never knew succubi were so much-- bigger than the average human. She easily dominated the height of the truckers who came into your small convenience store, her palms swallowing your cheeks with their warmth and size.

“Y’know.. Just around. Trying to save money, drinks aren’t cheap here.”

She laughed at that, a genuine laugh. It filled your chest with pride when you saw how relaxed she was with you compared to the rest of her clients, how her nickname for you was ‘baby’ and ‘honey’ instead of the stereotypical ‘sweetheart’ she addressed to everyone else. Even her coworkers didn’t get your treatment-- you were different, and maybe she just saw you as some sad human looking for company, but she never let on to perceiving you that way.

“But you know, I’ve missed you. I don’t get to hang out like this during my shift unless you show up,” Her eyes crinkled as her grin widened, a sharp finger taping beneath your chin. “You’re so much more… chivalrous, than the others.”

She snickered at that, and you couldn’t help but crack a slight laugh, the irony biting at you.

“Chivalrous?” You quirked, “Now I never said I came here with pure intentions, did I? How do you know I’m not as gross and perverted as the rest,” You scanned her body for dramatic effect, unable to hide the anxiety in your shaking gaze, even at the expense of a joke.

She lifted her eyebrows in amusement.

“Sure. But you’ve never tried to grab my ass, have you? Only thought about it.”

You went quiet; couldn’t deny that one. You almost looked at her with sympathy, afraid she’d feel like a piece of meat knowing of all the sinful gazing you did when you saw her. It was out of admiration, amazement-- but a part of that was still deeply rooted in lust.

But Megaera was quite the opposite. She grinned knowingly, biting her lip and watching how you wriggled and wormed at the fact she knew about you, your wants.

“What, reading my thoughts now are you? I didn’t think that was one of a succubus’ talents.” You looked away, unsure if you’d melt into a puddle right there if you met her amber eyes.

“I don’t need to read your thoughts,” she came closer, the jingle of thin tassels dangling from the skimpy outfit covering her body matching the quivers of your heart. “It's right on your face. Did you think I wouldn’t notice how you always try to reach for my hand, but pull it back before you even get halfway-- or draw your eyes to my breasts when I’m not looking?” Megaera stared at your gaping mouth, parted lips in surprise by her closeness. “Quite naughty for a human to go after a ‘monster’ like me, isn't it? I could steal your soul from right out under you, you know.”

You don’t peer into her eyes, those that can captivate and whip even the most defiant of creatures. You keep your gaze on her neck, the bare skin luring you more than her chest pushing up against your throat. She was too tall, it made you hot and delirious.

You could feel her body lay upright upon yours, so squishy and soft, surprisingly gentle for how she towered over you; a bare, cool leg pressed upon your left knee to push your legs apart.

“This is what you wanted all along, isn’t it? Pretending to be my friend, to be here for innocent means only to try and seduce me, huh?”

“N-no,” You hate yourself for stuttering, never slipping up this bad before. When had she seen through your guise, your poor jokes and nervous shakes of your leg at the bar in order to impress her despite your fear? “I, I just wanted, to be next to you. Near you, I mean. I… I promise I didn’t mean anything by it--”

You let your heart thump to the tap of her nails against your shoulder

“Calm down.” She laughed pressing against you just a bit before stepping back. “This is my job, babes. I'm not some gullible rookie; before this, I was tempting sweet little things like you into submission.”

You let out a huff in relief, your heart calming itself from near cardiac arrest now that she was no longer touching you.

“You really ought to be careful, though. Any of the girls here could snatch your soul without a second thought if you aren’t paying enough attention.”

You gulped at the sound of that. It wasn’t too bad of a fate, if she was the one to snatch up your soul instead.

‘Don’t pout like that,” Megaera caught your slump of defeat. “It's not fun being a succubus’s slave, even with all the pleasure you might think is involved.”

Now you really were about to pout.

“I think you’re just trying to get me out of here; I’d gladly stay by your side if it meant getting free drinks.” You take a sip of your cheap beer for added effect, hoping your casual nonchalant-ness matched her effortless flirtations.

“And a full view of me undressing.” Meg added, watching how you slammed back the full contents of your drink to avoid responding to that, the whites of your eyes growing bigger.

You coughed, choking a tad on the taste. You drank every time you came here, but it wasn’t often enough for you to get used to downing an entire lager.

“Man, you’re just too easy!” Megaera pushes your shoulder, forcing your body to thump heavy against the bar counter. “The rest of the girls would eat you up, I'm lucky I'm the only one you seem to drool over.”

“Drool..?” You manage between wipes at your mouth. “I might not be some pure, inexperienced client but I'm not a dog either.”

“Oh?” Meg raises an eyebrow, looking around the room. The club was lively for a weekday, enough to the point that one mere succubus wouldn’t be missed when there were so many other creatures on display.

You followed her eyes, wondering what she was searching for, what she was planning.

“Maybe we should see about that.” She almost murmured, grabbing your free hand with hers. She so easily interlaced her fingers with yours, holding your hand like a lover would rather than a fond acquaintance you’ve barely touched.

The lights from above turned from reds, to blues, to greens on the succubus’s skin, the gentle purple of her flesh fading into whatever color flashed on her. You could see the entirety of her backside save for the small black G-string held high on her hips, the open back of her top leaving room for fleshy, taloned wings to peek through. They were so thin, more for demonistic show rather than the potential of flight.

They seemed to twitch in a flapping pattern the longer your eyes stayed on them, veins showing through each section of warm flesh between scaled cartilage.

You were too busy watching the click-clack of her stilettos grace the floor, her hair rub against her sparkling, perspiring back to realize you were crossing into the private section of the club. Where more.. Intimate, expensive gatherings occur. You definitely didn’t have the money to pay for one of these shows.

“Uh, Meg I…”

She stopped to turn around, curious and a little teasing with the way her eyebrow arched.

“I would love to but… I’m, kind of on a tight budget… right now..” You cringe at yourself, wanting to beat at your head for passing up such an option. Sure, to her it was probably just part of her job, a way to get paid-- and you could technically pay for at least for half--(it’s not your first time thinking about this)-- but then you’d have to live with coming up with that other half, looking like a poor fool who can’t pay their dues.

“Don’t insult me like that, I don’t want your money;” She sneered, gripping your hand tighter than you expected after your yellow-bellied response. “I thought we were friends, right?”

She batted her lashes a bit, tilting her head in interest; you really were too easy, too gullible. She didn’t know if maybe it was the skimpy view you always had, the loneliness of working with sketchy people all day, or your complete lack of social awareness that left you as an easy target.

“Yeah, of course we’re friends! I just don’t want you to, to do anything you don’t want to. Or to feel like.. I’m some poor human you feel bad for, like you have to entertain me.”

Megaera rolled her eyes. Gullible, yes, stupid-- a little.

“Baby, do you really think I’d be generous enough to give you something for free? Even if I was bringing you back here out of pity-- I wouldn’t leave without getting something in return.” She pulled your hand forward, dragging you deeper into the curtained hallway. “Besides, I wouldn’t destroy what we have by making you pay for a special little service-- your company means more to me than that.”

She walks beside you, a hand around your shoulder as she slowly leads you away, deeper into the red lighting of the backroom. Down the hall, there were several velvet curtained doorways, only covered by the loose fabric, thin cement walls hardly keeping their restricted activities a secret.

Megaera took you to the end of the narrow, dimly lit hallway to an unclosed curtain. Inside, you could see the room’s properties. It wasn’t as taboo as you thought; no sex machines, prop-up tables with handcuffs, visible whips and chains. Just a curved purple loveseat, and a variety of glass liquor bottles on the small rounded table.

You’ve wanted to come in here with her since the first time you saw her bring a client back, leading them flirtatiously and affectionately. She touched you just as intimately, but there seemed to be a lack of pressured seduction in it. She wasn’t trying to pretend to be all hot and bothered for you. In fact, it seemed more so she was concerned with what you were thinking, watching your every reaction with amusement and curiosity.

You wished you could be alone with her somewhere else, somewhere she hasn’t given a million lap dances and faux laughs. Somewhere that felt real, that felt like you weren’t paying for company.

“You look pretty warm, are you okay?” Meg asked, taking your half-drunk bottle from your hands to put it on the glass table.

You bucked up, taking a deep breath and strolling over to the cushy loveseat, acting as casual as possible.

“Perfectly fine; so, what did you want me back here for?” You asked, pretending to be charismatically clueless. What did she want? There’s no way she just wanted your company, even though you’d be perfectly fine with that if it meant you could sit here with her, having her eyes and words directed towards you.

Megaera grinned, the thin, spiked tail you hardly ever got a glimpse of except from behind, waving itself in anticipation.

“Right to the point aren’t you; Don’t even want a drink first? It might help you loosen up, tiger.”

You shook your head a little too quickly.

She gave a small snicker at how you kept your legs spread wide, arms across the top of the couch as you tried to appear as prepared, as comfortably uncomfortable as possible. It was hard when she kept staring at you, yellow eyes scanning your body, keeping your inhibitions in check.

“Alright, suit yourself.” She strutted a step to the couch, sitting down beside you. It sunk with her weight, her round hips taking up the rest of the couch as she leered over you. Lying comfortably to face your rigid frame, she watched you try to mirror her body language.

“You know, for being a creature of lust, in the industry of sex, I don’t get much energy off of clients who come in here,” She brings a hand down to your thigh, tracing the inner side seam of your jeans with her finger. “I get more tips than energy; despite what misconceptions you might’ve heard, not all forms of sex give a succubus the rejuvenation she needs.”

You listen intently, interested but a little confused on what she was trying to say, why she was searching for your avoidant eyes.

“I’m a little lost. Why are you telling me this?”

You finally managed to keep your gaze on her without averting your eyes. Megaera went quiet, a peak of her pointed tongue brushing over her bottom lip. She was gazing at you how you had seen her do with hesitant clients, how she lured them in with her unwavering, hypnotizing gaze that made the most frugal of spenders give away their life savings.

“You don’t need to do that with me,” You hardened, almost annoyed at the fact that she thought she’d have to use that trick on you. “I’m already willing to give whatever you want.”

“I know.”

She grinned at your perceptiveness, giving her just one more reason as to why you were the one she wanted. “In exchange for an evening with me,” She grabbed your thigh all of a sudden, prying your leg even wider. “I want you to do everything I ask. I need to eat, and you seem willing to be fed on.”

She teased a little, getting closer to your gaping lips and wide eyes. Was she really asking.. What you thought she was asking?

“Yes.” You said without a forethought. A million times yes. You might just be a puppet, be a toy she used to eat from without a care for your wellbeing-- and even if that was the case, you were okay with it as long as she was with you, willing to hold and touch you for her gain.

“That was a little quick, you don’t want some more time to think about it?” She looked down to keep her gaze away. Her stilettoed foot was nudging yours in a playful game, an opposite reaction to her slight frown. Even with the cold of her hard skin, you felt intensely warm, desperate to kiss her.

Man, had you ever been this desperate before? The grip she had on you was too extreme, caution completely thrown to the wind just to have her want you, to have her take complete control over you, authentically.

“I don’t need to. I want this-- want to help you;” You grab her hand, still shaking as you move. “Besides, I’m not completely being taken advantage of-- I want this more than you know.” You watch her chest heave with shallow breaths. “It’s a win-win for the both of us.”

“Even if you collapse from exhaustion, your soul damned for eternity for fraternizing with a demon?”

You rolled your eyes; she was being a little melodramatic. Meg’s sharp teeth gleamed at your expression.

“Are you trying to make me back out now? I thought you were the one looking for a favor.”

“Just making sure,” Meg brushed the bits of fly aways from your cheek behind your ear. “Then, If you're certain-- you’ll have to get over this shyness.”

She beckoned you with an elongated finger, the sheening gleam of her chest rising and falling with a heavy breath. she wasn't smiling anymore, heavy lidded eyes with sparkled eyeshadow, making even the smallest, most detailed parts of her glow.

“Come, sit.”

You hesitantly abide by her request. As you move to face her, her hands come to pull your thigh over her much larger one, your body fitting snugly against her like a small animal would, height and strength outweighing your entirety. With her two palms she could crush you into dust.

But instead of doing so, she smooths her fingers down from your nape, to between your shoulder blades. The sensual touch’s pressure reminded you how much strength she was holding back; even the weight of her hands was like a heavy stone.

But she draws them back up, returning to the sides of your neck with her lips a breaths distance away from your face. Returning them to your back she draws circles on your spine with her bladed fingernails.

Megaera looks into your eyes for a faltering resolve, for fear-- or maybe even lustful desperation showing your lack of right mind. You couldn't help but feel a bit of it all-- but not enough for her to quip an eyebrow, or for you to make her stop.

Your heart was like a hummingbird, speeding up at the way her skin touched your skin, the fact that you were here with her half-lidded, candlelight eyes coming closer as she aimed to lock her lips with yours.

You stood as rigid as possible as to not mess up what you had been dreaming, fantasizing about for months. the tips of your lips that pinched between her teeth were on fire, a hot chimney blowing into your throat as she twisted deeper against you. One hand limp at your shoulder now moved to the back of your head, a gentle force forward to deepen the kiss with her long, snaking tongue. You wanted to ravish her, to run your hands down her like she did to you-- to cry about how you needed her skin between your lips, your teeth, her hair in your fingers. It was the only way to quench the intense, craving inside of you. A craving you were sure no creature had felt so deeply before. At least not genuinely for a creature like her, your fantasizes holding lust alongside the desire to build a home, to kiss “I love you’s” down her navel after a long day at work.

You grasped her gently on the side of her hot and stone-hard cheek, feeling the tingles in your toes turn to a strangled sensation-- your limbs wearing themselves out the tighter you held onto her. You felt weightless, like she could hold you up by the collar without resistance.

Meg tenses slightly at your eagerness despite the slump overriding your body, lips gentle against hers without holding back, relishing in her consuming touch.

You can feel the electric sparks that excited you begin to zap away, each gentle lick of her tongue to yours like a slow drain of every ounce of energy you own.

“You like this too much, hm...” she smiles against your lips for a half second, fading too quickly into a hesitant frown. Her grip along your neck was getting stronger, even her thumb against your pulse enough to choke you if she pressed any harder.

“Can't argue with that..” You manage to heave out, the desire to sleep overcrowding your hunger for this moment, your awed ecstasy.

“Can you do something else for me?” She asks, swallowing an eager, concerned gulp. “Not for me to feed, just for my…enjoyment.”

“Anything..” You huff again, your heart burning with venom, as if you had been running and never stopped. Your legs would barely move on their own, eyes looking up to hers as they peered through heavy lashes, eyeliner and mascara dabbed up to the nines.

“Get on your knees.”

You understand as soon as the words leave her mouth, some innate desire making you want to follow her every command-- the bewitchment she had on you as a woman or her powers as a succubus being the influence, you weren't sure. But your body wasn't nearly as complying with its weakness, giving out as you started to push away from her.

Meg helps you gently, seeing you struggle so earnestly it was almost hard to watch. But to your relief she said nothing, watching as you crawl on your knees to come close.

The muttering of drinks and seductive music reigns outside the curtain, reminding you of the writhing bodies stumbling to the bar that were so far from your little slice of bliss. You felt only a slight digging of pain, in your back, your joints. But the pressing tip of a high heel on your chest outweighed any exhaustion or agony Meg could bring you to. The black, sparkly platform was gentle, any harder and she would've shoved you back against the room's opposing wall.

She looked down at you, arms loose around the backside of the couch, almost concerned at your dissipating enthusiasm. But there was an ounce of intrigue, one that wanted to see how thin you'd stretch yourself for her. You fell to your elbows as her heel pushed deeper, the tip of her high heel coming to your chin.

“Well, are you going to just lay there?” She asked, a curious tone lacing her words.

You had seen this in the movies with the powerful, seductive corporate female character and dominatrix's--- you almost felt embarrassed by the cliché, even if it did get your failing heart racing.

You kissed the tip of her high heel, running from the bedazzled shoe to the soft plum of her skin. You made your inchful way up to the side of her ankle, no sense of blood under her flesh, but her body still moving under your kisses.

You hold under the bridge of her shoe, the digging of her sharp heel into your arm somehow numbed. From her shin to the side of her knee you rose higher, gaze downturned as her own settled upon you, a little astonished. And yet, Meg looked captivated by your devotion, your display of honest affection.

Your legs were growing uneasy now as you sat on them, trying to rise back up to her lips as you placed her heavy, powerful leg back onto the wine-colored carpet.

“I guess you didn't come here with pure intentions; came to woo me, hm?” Meg blurred into two now, your eyes failing you as something acidic fills your throat. “You really are far too sweet and gentle to want a quickie.”

“Told ya… Not like, all're other clients..”

You grin when she does, a sweet ache to the numbness in your limbs. It felt like a kind of nauseous good, making you far too delirious to care about returning to work, to worry about anything other than the gorgeous succubus holding you captive.

“Well, let's see how long you last first. I don't kiss my regular clients for this exact reason,” she laughed cheekily at your blurry gaze. “See right about now, you're starting to forget where you are. And soon, you won't even feel my touch.”

"mmn…” you nudged into her touch, gently chilled fingers sliding down your skin so sweetly. It contrasted so well with the fiery smoke of her breath.

“Say baby, you're willing to give yourself to me when you're conscious… is it okay if I assume the same when you're fast asleep, dreaming in my arms? I'm still, so hungry.”

You can’t see her any further, eyes fluttering to the back of your head and your arms giving out. But you can subtly nod your head, a faint “sure” leaving your careless mouth. You were in too much pleasure at how the night unfolded to even care where you woke up, you just knew you wanted to be with her, wherever she was, even if something in the back of your head, your gut, your instinct-- whatever it was, told you this wasn’t going to end well.

Megaera’s damp breath hit your neck, a blazing tongue poking from between two perfect lips pressed against your cheek.

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sargeicons · 3 days ago

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more of a question but how do you fell about logan's step away from racing?

oh boy this is going to be a long long answer

to be honest, i have felt all kinds of emotions. anger, disbelief, sadness, i was about to go out screaming WHY WOULD HE DO THAT.

but then i calmed down. logan is calm, collected, he has his mind in the right place, and if he decided to step away, there’s a reason for this decision. i am very obviously heartbroken as i was looking forward to this season and to new begginings for him, and i think he deserved a great season after everything went down in f1. but we cannot force it.

although i’ve been following his career for quite a long while, i do not know him personally, do not know his struggles and his future plans. maybe his mental health needs a break. maybe his heart is not in endurance racing. maybe he just doesnt enjoy racing anymore. whatever it is, we lived beautiful moments with him as a community and thats what i’ll keep with me.

i will continue to follow him through his yearly posts (lol) and will continue to admire him and what he built and i will still consider him my favorite driver of all time. i wish only the best to logan, that he enjoys life to the max, stay close to people he loves, find new passions, and if one day he decides he wants to return, i’ll be ready to support him the same way i’ve done since his f3 days.

#logan sargeant

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nickeverdeen · 2 days ago

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Fractured | Maddie x fem!reader x sister!Caitlyn

Pairings: Caitlyn x reader (sisters), Caitlyn x Maddie (fling, small romance), Maddie x reader (ex-lovers)

Type of fic: Angst, Comfort

Warnings: Death, unaware cheating, war, blood, injury, shock, loss of lover

Summary: The war is over and you won over Ambessa, but at what cost? The truth you find out eventually about what happened to her and your girlfriend… is cruel.

———————————

The streets of Piltover were quieter than usual, but not in the comforting way you remembered as a child. There was no laughter, no market chatter, no bustling energy of progress. Instead, the silence pressed down, heavy with the weight of war and loss. The air reeked of smoke and ash, mingling with the faint metallic tang of blood that refused to dissipate, even after the battle had ended.

You raced through the devastated streets, ignoring the dull ache in your side and the nagging weakness in your legs. Every breath burned, but you pushed on. You hadn’t seen Caitlyn since the war started. You had been deployed on the outskirts, separated from her and the others when everything went to hell. The only thing keeping you upright was the hope that she was still alive.

Your boots skidded to a halt as you rounded the corner near the courthouse ruins. Your breath caught in your throat.

Caitlyn was there, slumped against the rubble, her rifle resting limply by her side. Blood stained her uniform, her left eye hidden beneath a crude bandage that had already soaked through. In front of her, sprawled in the dirt, was Maddie.

Her body lay motionless, her head tilted unnaturally to the side. A single bullet hole marred her forehead, the vibrant light that had once defined her completely gone.

You froze. The world around you seemed to narrow, your ears ringing as your mind tried to process the scene. Maddie. Maddie, who had kissed you goodbye before the war began. Maddie, who always made you laugh even in the darkest times. Maddie, who now lay dead at Caitlyn’s feet.

Your legs carried you forward before your mind caught up. You dropped to your knees beside Caitlyn, trembling hands reaching out to her.

“Caitlyn! Cait, can you hear me?”

Her one good eye fluttered open, unfocused at first, but recognition dawned. Her lips twitched into a faint, tired smile. “You’re… alive,” she murmured, her voice hoarse.

You didn’t waste time. Scooping her up as gently as you could, you ignored the searing pain in your muscles and carried her toward the infirmary. The weight of her against you was grounding, a reminder that she was still breathing. But your eyes kept flicking back to Maddie’s lifeless body.

The hours passed in a blur. Medics worked on Caitlyn while you paced outside her room, your mind a storm of emotions. Relief that your sister had survived. Grief and confusion over Maddie’s death. Questions you couldn’t answer.

When they finally let you in, Caitlyn was sitting up in bed, pale and exhausted but alive. Her left eye was still covered, the bandages freshly changed. You sank into the chair beside her, letting out a shaky breath.

“The war’s over,” you said softly, breaking the heavy silence. “We won.”

Caitlyn blinked at you, her expression a mix of surprise and disbelief. “It’s… over?”

You nodded. “Zaun and Piltover… we held them off. Ambessa’s forces retreated. It’s done.”

She let out a long breath, her shoulders slumping as if the weight of the world had finally been lifted. But her gaze quickly turned to you, scanning for injuries.

“You’re hurt,” she said, frowning.

“I’m fine,” you lied, brushing off her concern. “I’ve had worse.”

Caitlyn didn’t look convinced, but she was too tired to argue. Instead, she gestured toward the small table beside the bed. “There’s an eyepatch there. Can you… help me?”

You nodded, picking up the dark leather patch and moving behind her. The silence stretched as you adjusted the straps, your fingers working carefully. It was only when you finished that you spoke again, your voice hesitant.

“What happened to Maddie?”

Caitlyn stiffened beneath your hands. You stepped back to face her, confused by the sudden tension in the air.

“I… I’m sorry about Maddie,” Caitlyn said carefully, her tone laced with something you couldn’t quite place. “I know you two were close.”

Close. The word felt like a cruel understatement. You stared at her, your heart twisting. “We weren’t just close. We were dating.”

The confession hung in the air, and Caitlyn’s expression shifted into something unreadable. Her jaw tightened, and she looked away, her good eye focusing on the far wall.

“She never told me,” Caitlyn said quietly, her voice strained.

“She didn’t want anyone to know,” you admitted, your throat tight. “But… what happened to her, Cait? She would never…” Your voice faltered, unable to finish the thought.

Caitlyn’s gaze dropped to her hands. “She almost killed me.”

The words hit you like a punch to the gut. You took a step back, shaking your head. “What? No. Maddie wouldn’t… she couldn’t…”

“I’m sorry,” Caitlyn said, her voice barely above a whisper. “But it’s the truth.”

Your mind reeled, memories of Maddie’s laughter, her optimism, her unwavering kindness flashing before you. It didn’t make sense. The Maddie you knew couldn’t hurt anyone, let alone Caitlyn.

“You’re wrong,” you said, your voice trembling. “She wouldn’t do that.”

Caitlyn didn’t respond, her silence heavier than any explanation she could have given. The guilt in her eye was evident, but she said nothing more.

You turned away, unable to look at her. The Maddie you loved was gone, and the person Caitlyn described felt like a stranger. But deep down, a small part of you couldn’t shake the nagging doubt, the question that would haunt you for the rest of your days:

Had you ever truly known her at all?

#imagine #wlw #arcane #caitlyn x reader #caitlyn kiramman #caitlyn arcane #caitlyn x you #maddie nolen #maddie arcane #maddie x reader

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drowninginships · 2 days ago

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Thank you to @artsyunderstudy for tagging me! It’s been a little while since I’ve done one of these. Blame the depression (which is on its way out the door) or the working 7 days a week thing. Or maybe blame my laptop for completely dying when we needed her the most. Or hey, maybe blame the shitting hellfire that is our current political landscape. Doesn’t leave much time or inspiration to write.

I don’t know if anyone knows this, but I fucking hate having multiple WIPs. And currently, I have 3 WIPs for this fandom. I’m just not the type of girlie that can bounce between works like that. Books, sure, I can read 4 at a time. WIPs? Absolutely not.

All that to say that those in the back might recognize this one. I pulled her off the shelf and dusted her off, hoping to get it finished in time to post for ERG. We’ll see how it goes! Finding a tame segment of this WIP was more work than I signed up for. This one is so spicy, y’all. Anyway, here’s your omegaverse hit for the month.

Simon barely has the mental wherewithal to consider where Baz’s scent might be stronger. He’s an animal acting purely on his instincts now, pulled toward the dense haven of pheromones that is Baz’s bed. He doesn’t think. He shoves his face into Baz’s pillow and moans as the pheromones quell this insatiable heat. In the brief moment of clarity that follows, Simon Snow realizes two things:

One: A beta isn’t supposed to feel like this. And two: climbing into an alpha’s bed was a terrible idea.

All the heat comes rushing back, and with it, longing.

And that’s all you’re getting! Hopefully, I can get this finished and sent off to my beta reader before the end of the month, because I really do want to participate in the ERG event. Tags and hellos below!

@valeffelees @mooncello @iamamythologicalcreature @roomwithanopenfire @skeedelvee @ic3que3n

@run-for-chamo-miles @thewholelemon @blackberrysummerblog @orange-peony @raenestee

@alexalexinii @rimeswithpurple @monbons @youarenevertooold @you-remind-me-of-the-babe

@arthurkko @imagineacoolusername @ileadacharmedlife @stitchyqueer

#simon snow #snowbaz #baz pitch #carry on #simon snow trilogy #simon snow series #tyrannus basilton grimm pitch #baz grimm pitch #basilton pitch #wip wednesday #wip #carry on series #carry on trilogy

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whatwasthatpipsqueak · 1 day ago

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this is MY first time writing something like this but it was like totally crazy, i feel like that teacher from 10 things i hate about you.

~~~

calebxreader!smut dom!reader sub!caleb (i think it switches tho sometimes idk) v!rgincaleb! ‘experiencedreader! nicknames!pipsqueak,baby- probably overused pipsqueak pronwithplotfr probably doesn’t follow any lore accurate timelines

i watched the movie the first time with dylan obrien and had this similar idea lol also i dont know how to write in protection yet so just saying wrap it up in tango time, safety first!

might write the sylus one since reader did learn stuff ig teehee

your first or mine?

Asking caleb to give you lessons on sexual matters wasn’t your first choice, but after he somehow found out you were asking your girlfriends about finding someone experienced to teach you some things, he was adamant on him being your choice.

You knew enough, but you needed more practice if you wanted to impress Sylus.

And that’s just how you ended up in Caleb’s room with only your lacey matching set covering your body.

It was just after 5:30pm and the early rays of the winter moon glowed onto your body. All Caleb had on was his loose grey sweatpants, the string from his waistband dangled and tickled your abdomen as his body draped over yours. You haven’t done this in a while and Caleb took notice of the nervous look on your face.

“This isn’t your first time is it?” His husky voice breathed out.

You rolled your eyes as you un furrowed your brows.

“its just been awhile.” You replied.

His biceps were caging your head in as your arms lay to your side. Maybe the feeling was weird because you’ve been friends for so long.

“I have some ground rules.” You spoke as his eyes scanned your face.

“Mhm.” He hummed as you sighed.

“Just that you can touch me anywhere.” You fluttered your eyelashes as you responded hoarsely, his breathy laugh fanned your face as he inched closer, this kind of flirty talking in bed was something you wanted to work on.

“Same goes for me Pipsqueak.” He whispered deeply as one of his fingers twirled a strand of your hair, you were getting more anxious by the minute, you didn’t think he would do the thing where it feels like the only thing he wants to do is stare at you for hours; you knew this was a bad idea from the beginning but you were desperate.

You squirmed as you huffed.

“Caleb I want you to touch me already.” Your hands finally moved to his bare shoulders as your fingers trickled down his chiseled back, you met his gaze, pouting your lips in protest at his devlish grin.

You watched as he lowered his mouth to your ear.

His long fingers grasped your chin to tilt your head.

“I like to savour these type of things, you understand right?” His hot breath sent chills throughout you as he pulled away to see your reaction, you recovered and replaced your surprised look with one filled with fox like tendencies.

“Well I don’t care.” You replied smashing your lips onto his, your legs automatically wrapped around his slim waist deepening the sloppy kiss, he hummed as you both pushed and pulled desperately.

Your hands roamed his body, every touch you heard him hum pathetically, his body felt agonizingly endless until you finally found the waistband to his sweatpants.

You swiftly placed your index finger to the inside of his pants and snapped them against his body he groaned as he quickly broke the kiss and pulled away to stand, leaving you with furrowed brows.

He looked troubled, both parties breathing still ragged.

“I can’t do this.” He bashfully huffed out, the apples of his cheeks were a bright red just as his ears, he stood at the end of the bed, avoiding your confused gaze.

“What?- Caleb, wha- Did I do something wrong?” You caught your breath as you tried to catch his eyes, he looked embarrassed, his stare shifting to everything but you.

“I-“ You awaited his response without moving your gaze from him.

“I’ve never.” He finally spoke, his breathing evened and his eyes met yours.

The understanding stare you were giving him was enough to calm him down to sit on the left side of the bed next to you.

“Oh.” You uttered as you stared vacantly at your clothes on the ground.

“But-“ You added, not knowing how to use your words, your hard stare stuck on the door now.

“Your confidence, it felt like..” You added as he shifted, your stare moved to his face.

He looked straight ahead as he spoke again.

“Fake it till you make it I guess.” He chuckled tensely, rubbing the back of his neck, all you could do was ogle at him.

“I dont think many girls are too fond of my voice.” And I don’t want other girls. He admittedly breathed out as he looked away from you, terrified you could read his thoughts, your brows furrowed as you softly tittered.

“Well..” You spoke softly scooting closer to him as his head tilted up wanting to hear what you have to say.

“It was working for me five minutes ago.” You played with the hem of his sheets as you admitted with a small honest smile.

He roughly scoffed, making a shiver run down your spine.

“Well none of it was real so whatever.” He looked down as he harshly remarked. You felt hurt as he said that, you gulped as you hesitantly replied.

“It was for me.” You whispered loud enough for him to hear, he didnt reply and continued to stare forward, your gaze was burning through the side of his face, you felt self conscious and needed to get out of there.

You hummed a slight scoff, scooting to the edge of the bed- his bed, correction, what were you even thinking?

“I should go before I embarrass myself even more.” You sheepishly replied as you jumped up to grab your clothing hastily.

“Hey- pipsqueak, wait.” He leaped from the bed as he grabbed hold of your wrist that was holding your clothes.

You looked up at his towering figure and were surprised to be met with his soft gaze.

“I didnt think you would actually want to- I am sorry.” He grinned as he added.

“Maybe I needed the practice more than you.” He shrugged with a pouty lip, the look on his face was pitiful.

You playfully rolled your eyes, looking back at him to connect with his amethyst stare again, the look in them was desperate and you couldn’t stay mad at him if he was giving you that look.

“Maybe.” He spoke up, he moved slowly like he was worried he would scare you, his free hand put a strand of hair behind your ear.

“Hm?“ You hummed staring back at him.

“We could try again.” His other persona was back as he breathed out in his gruff voice, he inched slowly towards your neck.

You watched as he placed soft kisses along your throat, poorly.

His hot breath on you gave your body a wave of tingles, your eyes fluttered as you cleared your throat unknowingly giving a small laugh, he stopped to give you a feeble look.

You softly rolled your eyes.

“Here- sit there.” You spoke as you sat him on the end of his bed, the blush under his eyes covered his cheeks and nose, it was adorable, it doubled as you straddled his lap, placing your arms around his shoulders.

He propped both of his hands behind him.

“Is this okay?” You asked as he hesitantly nodded, not because he was unsure, but because he was excited and he was nervous to mess it up again, his breathing became unsteady.

he gulped as he recognized the look in your eyes and just that excited him more, you could do anything around him and he would find it unbelievably attractive but this, this was way different from before.

You gave him a small grin as you softly placed your lips to his giving him the smallest peck and pulling away, his adorable pout and half-lidded eyes was enchanting, you moved your hand to cup his jaw as you changed the pace to sloppily kiss him, he fervently returned the kiss.

Your tongues clashed together messily, the mixture of hands groping and soft pants was enough for you to not want this to end, but his barely audible whines drove you insane.

He groaned as you ground your hips into his, his hands roughly grabbed your waist as he guided you to do it once more earning a whine-like groan to escape him, you pulled away once more, giving him an after-shock look on his face, you placed a wet kiss to the side of his mouth then his cheek, the edge of his jaw, you spared a look to his face to see his long lashes fluttering. You felt his jaw clench as your kisses lowered to his throat, grinding into his pelvis again as you left wet kisses and marks on his neck.

“Yes- mark me.” He audibly whispered, you shivered as he gulped, giving you lustful confidence.

You suckled on his carven shoulders as you agonizingly moved back up to his face, his whimpers fired you up- you didnt think a mans whimpers could give you such a power thrill and you couldn’t stop there.

You pulled back, a ghost of your lips grazed his cheek as you looked head on at his face; his brows furrowed and mouth agape as ragged breaths left him, and that lustful glare in his eyes.

“Do you want to try now?” You asked hoarsely, he half nodded as his teeth clacked with yours when his mouth met your lips once more, his teeth hitting yours erupted a painful gasp from you, allowing him to drive his tongue deeper down your throat.

His hands raked your back as he moaned soft whines, he moved to kiss the side of your mouth and your cheeks, he rushed his actions, he messily left wet kisses to your throat, you moaned causing him to buck his hips up.

You softly snickered.

“You’re really going step by step of my moves?” You spoke.

“Shut up.” He breathed out as he flipped you both, his body veiled over yours as you gasped, he didn’t skip a beat continuing his work on your collarbone and shoulders.

You felt heat pool in your panties, you squirmed as he bit at a spot on your throat, you whined, your hand gripping at his back as he ground into you, you mewled as he groaned, the vibration from his voice on your jaw sent shivers throughout you.

Caleb’s kisses felt rushed and messy, his dry thrusts into your hips felt heavenly and needy, you needed more, he needed more.

He pulled his mouth away from your neck, his hands shook with anticipation as he ground his pelvis into you, you bit your lip as he groaned out loud.

“I need to feel you.” His voice was hoarse and deprived, he whispered with his mouth beside your head as he ground into you once more. Your eyes met his uncontrollable gaze as you reached down to palm his hard on, his mouth fell open as he mewled with his eyes locked on yours.

“more.” He moaned as he bucked into your hand, you grinned as you slid your hand into his pants, he didn’t think this would happen he said, yet his boxers weren’t on him.

He groaned as you slid your thumb over his slit, you slightly pumped once earning you a frenzied whimper from him, his face contorted in pleasure as you watched from under him. You started slow, every shift of your hand on him gave you a delicious, breathy groan from him.

His arms were almost buckling as he bucked more into your hand, he rolled his hips faster in want, his movements were beginning to get sloppier as his breath hitched in between moans and whimpers.

You felt his member hit your lower stomach as you pulled your hand away before his release, he gasped as he realized what you’ve done.

“wha-“ You give him a devilish smirk as he stares back at you dumbfounded.

He looked exhausted, the blush on his face spread to his chest as you looked him once over, you effortlessly turned both of you so you were kneeling above him, you rake your hands down his chest and stomach as you inch away from him to stand at the end of the bed, he gulps as he stays where you layed him on his back.

“please-“ He begs with half-breaths and whimpers, you slowly smile at him, your eyes brimmed with lust as his shimmered back at you the same way, you agonizingly peeled your panties from your body, you felt them slide to the floor, his eyes following them until you reached for your bra unclasping it.

He swallowed as you crawled toward him, angling yourself over him again.

“Are you sure?” You asked as your fingers danced across his lower stomach, his eye lashes fluttered as he nodded with a gulp.

“yes, yes- please.”

He pleaded in anguish, you slowly arched your entrance over his dick, the tip was grazing you as you shakily breathed, you rocked your hips slightly before you slid down, you gasped as he filled you, he gripped your thighs as he clenched his jaw, you slowly rolled your hips, he groaned as you bit your bottom lip and rolled your eyes back. He grabbed your waist wanting to guide the rolling of your hips, he grasped the skin dangerously rough as he rocked you back and forth, you both moaned melodiously.

“feel- so good.” He groaned out as he arched his hips upwards, he shifted the movement of your hips to move up and down, he grounded up into you as his fingers dug into your sides, crescent shaped indents were already forming on his chest from your nails. The slapping of skin against skin, and Caleb’s vibrational loud moans had you seeing stars.

“Caleb!” You yelped as he flipped you backwards, he pounded deeper into your opening, one of your legs bent over his shoulder, the other down by his side that you arched at the knee for him, he grabbed both of your thighs, giving them a violent squeeze as he roughly moaned and groaned with every thrust, this was even better, you felt even fuller as your grainy moans drummed into his ears causing him to pick up his pace.

“hmgh, your pussy feels- so good!” He hiccuped as he thrusted in and out of you, you felt outstretched as you arched your back, you groaned as he pushes you down by your abdomen, leaving his palm sprawled over your stomach, you keened as he defied you, he couldn’t help himself, he had to feel himself going in and out of you.

“You feel that- you’re so full aren’t you?” He growled as he pummelled his hips into you,

“Yes Caleb- so f-full, I’m gonna!” You wailed as his thrusting became sloppier, the tightness in your stomach was coiling to unbearable heights, his member hit your cervix deeper with every hammer of his waist, you gasped a moan as he finally hit that spot that unraveled you.

“Yeah- baby, that’s it!” He egged your orgasm on, your wet folds ached as he pounded his final thrusts into your already undone self.

“oh god, f-fuck!” Caleb groaned as he pulled out to undo himself onto your lower stomach, he fell over to tower over you, his hands holding him up as they gripped the sheets beside your head, his breath hitched as the last spurts of himself covered you. Both of your breaths were unsteady and hot, his breathing fanned your face as you met his gaze, he chuckled hoarsely as he slowly got up.

“I’ll get you cleaned up.” He spoke unevenly as a towel glided towards his outstretched hand, he carefully wiped the remmenants of himself from your abdomen.

“some practice.” You expressed with a shit eating grin, he laughed gutturally, as you propped yourself up.

“I am gonna shower, you wanna join?” You announced as you carefully rose, he shook his head no.

“I’ll help you but-“ He adjusted his sweatpants as he rose, standing in front of you to caress your face.

“I don’t want to wash you off myself quite yet.” He grinned as he pulled you into his arms for a deep passionate-filled kiss.

HEHEHEHEHE

#consent is hot #lads caleb #love and deepspace caleb #caleb x reader #lnds caleb #caleb x you #caleb smut #smut #love and deepspace #love and freakspace #oneshot #caleb x mc #x reader #obsessive love #romance #simple #lowkey sad

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