#it's because i want their first sexy to be what i want it to be

[ennn]

Re: “Rio's goal is to kill Agatha so she can be with her forever”

My brother in Christ, if Rio's ultimate goal this series was to kill Agatha we wouldn't have gotten past the first episode.

Okay okay, I get how it can be confusing because Rio literally says she wants to see Agatha dead in episode one and tells Agatha she'll let the Salem Seven (who do want Agatha dead) know where she is.

But it is noteworthy that Rio tells Agatha what she is going to do and when the Salem Seven are expected to arrive. Rio is usually surprisingly fair in how she deals with Agatha.

Rio has always met Agatha at her power level

In episode one, even assuming Agatha was protected by Wanda's spell and Rio couldn't harm her there, once it was broken Rio went "full analog" – to quote Hahn – with her knife, the only magic she used being the wind blasts.

Guys, that's not a serious murder attempt, that's foreplay to them. Violent, bloody, sexy foreplay.

Also Rio has healing powers. That's a thing they have very clearly shown.

To be clear, my read is that Rio can't actually kill anyone before their time ("You can't kill me, it's not allowed") just hurt them really really badly until they maybe choose to die ("I can make you wish you were dead"). Which you could argue equals killing I suppose, just slower.

But this is Agatha Harkness: all she really needs to survive is a bit of time to scheme and manipulate and do her usual girlbossing, gatekeeping, and gaslighting – and I think Rio also knows this. Agatha keeps surprising her, for better and worse.

Yes, Rio gets BIG MAD in episode 8 because Agatha says possibly The Worst Thing to her but the first part of their confrontation is technically physical torture, not murder attempts.

I know it sounds like I'm splitting hairs here but my point is that having Agatha dead isn't Rio's ultimate #1 goal. It's not so clean and easy.

There's something to be said about how the wounds Rio inflicts speak to how Rio sees herself hurt by Agatha emotionally in the relationship i.e. death by a thousand cuts, the severing of her Achilles tendon.

There’s probably something also be said about the relationship a being like Rio has with physical pain. Trees feel pain. Everything living does. Rio mocks Agatha for dulling herself to it using dark magic.

But I digress.

Anyway, note: it's only after Agatha gets magic back that Rio starts throwing magic blasts – and even then she seems to be holding back.

These two are possibly the worst two witches to fight each other directly like this because Agatha can't absorb Rio's magic or she'll die. She has to actively block or avoid all hits. And I bet this isn't something Agatha is used to dealing with considering she had no issues taking Wanda's magic.

And Rio is aware of this because she’s just lobbing quick little green blasts Agatha's way. It's not a torrent of magic like what Agatha is gleefully unleashing.

It's also the Watsonian (in-universe) explanation as to why this fight is so short. Because you literally can't straight up fight Death. Rio is a hard counter to Agatha's special siphoning ability just like how Agatha was a hard counter to Wanda's magic (insert your scissors-paper-stone visual of choice).

Rio doesn't want Agatha dead, she wants Agatha to want her

It's clear that Rio is grieving when Agatha dies. This isn't the outcome she wants. They're also both crying during the kiss it's great.

Rio wants what Agatha specifically tries to deny in the deal Agatha proposes: she wants to keep pursuing Agatha, to keep seeing her, provoking her, to be shocked and surprised by her. To keep loving her but also, to keep hurting her.

Because Agatha also hurts her right back. And Agatha knows she has Rio constantly on the emotional backfoot, that Rio – despite centuries of hatred thrown her way – still humours her more often than not and what levers to push.

I don't think this can happen with Agatha dead and gone.

To be fair, we don't know what the rules are in this world's afterlife. The only insight we get into Rio's job is her scene with Alice and that still leaves a lot of things unanswered: Does Rio just escort souls to a destination or does she have more control beyond that, like a domain? Can souls refuse to go with Rio? How do ghosts happen?

I had previously assumed Rio needed to allow it but Schaeffer says that her vision in that moment has Agatha's using an evolved form of the power to take Rio's magic by touch.

And with that, it's telling that it's Agatha who ultimately ensures that she dies (with the "calculated risk" of becoming a ghost), siphoning Rio's death magic energy.

Agatha embraces death, embraces Rio, but she also doesn't – Rio's clever witch got away again.

[30somethingautisticteacher]

The drunk woman was relentless, invading Tommy's personal space as he tried to step back. He kept flashing his ring, but either she hadn't noticed or simply didn't care. Tommy glanced at his watch, grateful Evan hadn't arrived yet to see this mess.

"I'm just a poor girl all alone and new to the city," she slurred, pressing closer. "Can you help me get home safely? You can drive me, and then you can come up and I can thank you properly." She traced a finger down his arm. "I'm sure your wife wouldn't mind."

'Okay, she just doesn't care,' Tommy thought, taking a step back.

"I'm sure the bartender would be happy to call a cab for you," he said firmly.

"But you're so big and strong. I would feel so protected," she pouted, swaying slightly.

"I'm flattered, but I'm sure you'll be plenty safe," Tommy said, maintaining his distance. "And my husband won't like you all over me."

"Husband?" the woman spat, her flirtatious demeanor instantly shifting. "Seriously, you're gay?" Her slurred voice dripped with disdain.

It was at that exact moment that Evan appeared.

"Oh, he's very, very gay," Evan said, draping his arms over Tommy's shoulders and pulling him in for a steamy kiss.

"Hi, baby," Tommy said when they broke apart, his earlier tension melting away at his husband's presence.

"You can go now," Evan said dismissively to the woman.

"You're the husband?" she scoffed, looking Evan up and down with obvious judgment. "What a waste."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Evan asked, his voice sharpening. Tommy could feel him tensing up beside him.

"Not worth it, sweetheart," Tommy said softly, squeezing Evan's hand. He knew that tone in his husband's voice - the one that meant someone had struck a nerve.

"No, I want to know," Evan insisted, his jaw set. The playful possessiveness from moments ago had been replaced by something harder, more defensive. "What exactly is being wasted here?"

"Your lifestyle," she sneered, waving her hand dismissively. "Two big, strong, handsome men shacking up together."

"Shacking up?" Evan said, his voice dangerously quiet. The woman had crossed a line, and Tommy knew his husband well enough to recognize when he was about to snap.

"We're not shacking up," Evan continued, holding up his left hand where his wedding ring caught the bar lights. "We're married. Legally married. I walked down an aisle, said vows, signed papers, and promised to love this man for the rest of my life. And you know what? It was the best decision I ever made."

Tommy's heart swelled, watching his husband defend their marriage.

"So no, it's not a waste. What would be a waste is if I pretended to be something I'm not just to make people like you comfortable. Now if you'll excuse us, I'd like to have a drink with my husband."

"You people," the girl said, shaking her head in disgust.

Tommy felt Evan stiffen next to him, ready for another round, but this time Tommy stepped forward. He'd let Evan handle it his way, now it was his turn.

"Ah, 'you people,'" Tommy said, his voice calm but firm. "Let me tell you about 'us people.' My husband and I are first responders. We put our lives on the line every single day for others - including people who think like you do. I spent years hiding who I was because of that kind of hatred, afraid to be myself. But then I finally accepted who I really was, and that opened my heart to the possibility of love. And I found it - real, earth-shattering, life-changing love."

He pulled Evan closer, feeling his husband relax against him. "So the only waste here would be letting people like you make us ashamed of something so beautiful."

Tommy turned away from the woman, effectively dismissing her. "Come on, baby."

The woman slunk away into the crowd, her previous bravado gone.

"You ok, babe?" Evan asked, turning to Tommy with concern.

"Are you kidding?" Tommy said, pulling him closer by his belt loops. "That was extremely sexy watching you tell her off like that. Look how far my little baby bi has come."

"Couldn't have done it without you," Evan said softly.

"You know, I'm actually more hungry than thirsty," Tommy said, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively.

"Oh, is that so?" Evan replied, a knowing smirk spreading across his face."Well, we should probably do something about that."

"Yeah, we probably better," Tommy said, pulling Evan in for a heated kiss.

When they broke apart, Evan was speechless. He shook his head. "But not here."

"Right, right, let's get out of here."

They stumbled out of the bar together, Tommy tugging Evan along by their joined hands. Their laughter mixed with the night air, any trace of anger long forgotten replaced by the joy of just being together.

[russo-woso]

This is new || Niamh Charles x reader

Request | Masterlist | Prompt list

Warning smut 18+

Summary You and Niamh try something new

“Hey, babe.” Niamh whispered as she wrapped her arms around you.

You were too preoccupied focusing on the dinner you were cooking to notice Niamh make her way through the door.

“Hi, baby.” You cheered, turning round to kiss her lips gently.

“What you cooking?” Niamh asked curiously, hoisting herself up onto the counter.

“That dish we like, the one with the really hard name to pronounce.” You told her and a huge smile appeared on her face.

“Ohh, lovely. Here, let me come help.” Niamh tried to take over but you took one whiff of her and pushed her back.

“You stink, Charles. Did you not shower after training?”

“I wanted to come home to you.” Noah said with a saddened expression on her face.

“Oh, baby. You go shower and then when you come down, dinner will be ready.” You began, Niamh nodding and negotiating walk to the stairs. “Oh, Niamhy, you had a parcel delivered today. I left it on the bed for you.”

Niamh eyes widened. She knew exactly what she’d ordered but she didn’t what you to see it. Not now at least.

“I didn’t open it either if that’s what you’re thinking.” You added, noticing Niamh’s wide eyes.

Niamh let out a sigh of relief, smiling at you before running up the stairs.

She sat on the bed, her eyes drawn to the box in her lap.

Eager to see it, she ripped the box open, revealing a bright pink strap on.

Sam had made a small remark to Niamh a few nights ago that yours and Niamh’s sex life must be so boring because you don’t use a strap.

Personally, you just thought Sam was a bit tipsy due to the alcohol she’d consumed that night, but Niamh… Niamh took it to heart.

At first, she was hesitant buying the strap.

You seemed to enjoy yourself when yours have sex. She’d give you orgasm after orgasm. And Niamh definitely enjoyed herself.

But when she thought more about it, images of you taking her cock flashed in her mind.

At that moment, Niamh knew she was going to buy a strap.

After inspecting the strap, she hid it in her bed side table, saving the surprise for later.

She rushed in the shower, desperate to finish dinner quickly so she could take you upstairs.

When Niamh came down, eager to eat her dinner, you knew she was planning something.

“Niamhy, what’s wrong? You’re rushing. You’re gonna be sick if you eat it too fast.” You told her, watching her eat her food like a pig.

“Surprise. Can’t tell you until after dinner.” Niamh smirked, continuing to eat her food.

Your interest perked when she mentioned a surprise. You loved surprises.

“Niamh, tell me. What is it? Come on baby, please tell me.” All Niamh did was shake her head.

“Not telling you.”

“Fine. Leave dinner, I’ll have dinner later. Show me the surprise.” You said, placing your plate down and standing up.

“Wow, you’re desperate to know, aren’t you?” Niamh teased, leading you up the stairs.

Niamh say you down on the bed, getting you to close your eyes.

You out your hands out in front of you, Niamh putting the strap on them.

You slowly opened your eyes, focusing on the pink silicone.

“You bought a strap?” You questioned Niamh, a shocked look on your face.

“Like it?”

“Like it? Baby, I love it. Fuck, you’re gonna look so fucking sexy with a strap on.” You murmured against her lips.

“Can we try it now? Please.” Niamh begged.

You nodded desperately in response, just as excited to use it.

Niamh connected your lips in a passionate, love filled kiss.

Both your clothes were being thrown around the room, your lips only leaving one another’s body for split seconds at a time.

“Gonna be so gentle, babe.” Niamh whispered reaching for the harness.

“Do you need some help putting it on?” You asked

“I’m okay, love. You just lay there and look pretty for me.” Niamh winked, making you blush slightly.

Niamh reached for the new lube she’d bought earlier, spreading it onto her fake dick.

She pumped her hand up and down the length, your breath quickening as she did.

She looked so hot right now.

“I know it looks a lot, but I’ll go slow.” Niamh whispered, lining the tip with your entrance.

Gently and slowly, just like she promised, Niamh pushed the strap into you.

Your face scrunched up in a mixture of pain and pleasure.

“Okay?” Niamh asked, you nodding in response. “Nearly there, love. There we go, such a good girl taking my cock.”

“Feel so big, Niamh.” You managed to say. “You can move.”

Niamh slowly pulled out before thrusting back in.

She repeated that for a few seconds, your whimpers of pain growing into moans of pleasure.

“Feel good, baby?” Niamh asked, a smirk on her face.

“So so good, Niamh!” You almost screamed, Niamh finding your g spot with the strap. “Oh god — feels so good.”

“You look so pretty like this, love. So so pretty.” Niamh muttered, grabbing your hips and pounding into you harder and fast.

“Fuck!” You cried, grabbing at Niamh’s back.

“Gonna cum for me, pretty girl?”

“Gonna cum, Niamh. Fuck, ‘m gonna cum.”

Your legs spasmed as you high came tumbling down in you.

Niamh pulled you into a searing kiss as she swallowed your orgasmic moans.

Her hips stilled fully when you’d come down.

“Why didn’t we buy a strap sooner?”

[musevinnie]

ᴊᴇᴀʟᴏᴜꜱʏ ᴊᴇᴀʟᴏᴜꜱʏ - ᴠɪɴɴɪᴇ ʜᴀᴄᴋᴇʀ

Description : You recently got hook up into a otome game called Love and DeepSpace. You found it through tiktok, there was one particular character that has caught your attention.

Warning: none

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁. ݁

"Babe. Babe. Babeee."

Vinnie has been trying to get your attention for the past hour. But all you can do is be glued to your iPad.

"BABE!!!" he whined and shook your arm.

You glanced up at him for a split second. "What happened Vin?"

He groaned and slightly glared at you. "What do you mean "what happened". I want your attention and you been ignoring me cause you are on your damn iPad playing that stupid game with that ugly guy"

You through a pillow at him. "Leave Sylus out of this. Just give me a few minutes."

Recently you came across this game called Love and Deep Space. It's a otome with action and sci-fit kick to it. And there are four love interest, your favorite being Sylus.

Vinnie rolled his eyes and got out of the bed knowing damn well it wasn't just gonna be a few minutes. It wasn't the game itself that annoyed Vinnie. It was more so how you kept going on and on of how hot/sexy Sylus was.

It might sound dumb but Vinnie hated how jealous he was of a damn pixel. A quick thought came into Vinnie's mind. He was gonna hide your iPad, because no iPad. No Sylus.

The next day came back from running errands and the first thing you went to go was to get your iPad. What took you off guard was that it wasn't in your usual spot.

You went back into the living room and seeing Vinnie couch.

"Hi baby have you seen my iPad" you asked him

Vinnie looked the other way trying to ignore you. He looked down at Hera who was laying down next to him on the couch.

"You heard something Hera? It sounded like a buzzing" He said while petting her.

But all Hera did was jump off the couch and went into the bedroom.

"Trader" Vinnie mumbled

"Vincent" you called out to him

"What?" he pouted

"What is with the pouting" you asked him trying hard not to laugh.

"Oh I don't know maybe because MY girlfriend. MINE. not that ugly pixel is ignoring me for him" he said while folding his arms

You had to cover your mouth so you wouldn't laugh. "Are you talking about Sylus? Babe it just a game" you go over to try and give him a kiss. But he turns his head away.

"No go kiss Sylus" he pouted

You let out a chuckle. "I really wish I could you know" You joked to poke at him

He let out a huff and was about to get up but to pulled him back down. He still wasnt looking at you.

You shook your head and kisses his cheek. "Bebe I'm joking. I'm sorry."

He finally looked at you still having a pout. He sighs and pulls you on his lap rest his head on the crook of your neck.

"You're mine. I don't care if it's a game. You're my girl not his and I want all your attention."

You smiled and kissed his lips. "I'm sorry baby I guess I have been a little too obsessed with playing. How about tonight just you and me and we have a movie night."

Finally you saw a smile on your goofy boyfriend's face. "Yes baby I liked that."

"Oh and Vinnie?" you said

He hummed in response.

"Where is my iPad?" You asked him

He sighed and rolled his eyes.

"In the dirty laundry basket"

[munsonsmixtapes]

Heelllooooooo!!!

It's been a while since I've requested.. life got busy, and I am glad to be bavk on here..

Catching up on my favorite writers stories!!!

I seen your post about wanting steddie requestsssss

So I had a steddiexreader request...

So I'm a bigger girl, and my bestie just showed me that I CAN wear fish nets.. (we did a spooky ghost photo shoot)

And I instantly thought of reader showing Steddie or surprising them with a COMPLETE wardrobe change, going from sweat pants/baggy shirts to short dresses, fish nets, heels, or rocker themed outfits, leather skirts, cropped(?) band tees (because I love seeing it on other bigger girls but I can't get myself to wear it)

Just a complete change in attitude and self love even though she is still slightly self conscious on how she looks.. and they both lose their mindssss

Smut welcomed because obviously

🫡

First off, I just wanna say fuck yes!! As a chubby girl myself, I also love seeing women who look like me wearing whatever the fuck they want! I love writing about women who look more like me and the characters I love loving on them because they deserve it! I’ve been so excited to write this request so thank you so much for sending it in!

cw: MDNI (18+) oral (f receiving) nipple play, body worship, body insecurity

You sit on the bed in your robe, hoping that it covers your outfit well. You’re planning on surprising your boyfriends when they come home from work. It was as if a switch had flipped and you had taken a few days while they were at work to completely change your wardrobe. And you hadn’t done it for them, it was purely for you as you had suddenly gotten a boost of confidence. Gone were the baggy clothes as they were replaced with cropped band tees, leather skirts, and tight dresses like the one you’re wearing that was accompanied by a pair of fishnet tights that Robin had convinced you to buy. 

And while you weren’t doing it for the boys, you were still intending on surprising them with the intention of getting them to show you just how hot they thought you were. Even if they did that all the time. They are both very aware of your insecurity and try their best to make it known just how much they love you for who you are.

You hear the front door unlock and put yourself in what you think is a sexy position, waiting for them to come into the room. The door opens and both Eddie and Steve stare at you as you lay on your side, your hand slowly trailing to where the robe was tied. 

“What is going on here?” Steve asks as steps closer, taking your hands in his hand, helping you to your feet. 

“Yeah, sweetheart, what are you hiding under that robe?” Eddie asks, moving to the other side of you. You open the robe quickly and both men gasp as they take in the skin tight black number you’ve got on. It’s lacy, so much so that they can see through every inch. The bra that you’re wearing and that little black thong that’s doing things to them. 

“Jesus,” is all Steve is able to say as a gasp leaves his lips. 

“Fuck,” Eddie adds. “Sweetheart, you look-” he cuts himself off and you’re quick to close the robe back as you throw yourself onto the bed, wanting it to swallow you up. You can’t believe you actually thought it would work. 

“I feel so fucking stupid,” you say into the pillow loud enough for both of the to hear and they’re quick to sit on either side of you, Eddie rubbing your back while Steve strokes your hair, moving it away from your face. 

“Honey, you’re not stupid,” he says softly and you turn your head to his side so he can see you. 

“So you don’t think I look ridiculous?” You ask, your voice small. 

“Not at all,” he shakes his head. “You look fucking hot. I mean, you always do, but this little thing? Wow.” 

“Yeah,” Eddie agrees. “Fuck, doll,” he groans and you turn onto your back as Eddie leans over, his lips right by your ear. “The thing we’d do to you.” 

Your cheeks flush at his comment and you lie flat, deciding to take him up off his offer. You look up at both of them as they stare down at you, wondering how you’ve gotten so lucky as to have both of them as your boyfriends. They love you for who you are and you don’t know why you get so insecure around them sometimes. They have proved their love to you time and time again and you don’t know why it’s so hard to believe them when it’s clear that they’re telling the truth.

Steve is the first to lean in, pressing a kiss to your lips and you’re quick to respond, your hand moving to the back of his head. It slips into his hair and you’re pulling at it as his tongue slides into your mouth, causing you to moan. Eddie is on your left, his mouth pressing to your neck, giving it a rough suck that causes you to gasp and he just chuckles. And once you’re moaning, the two of them move lower to your chest, trying to remove your dress and you have to talk them through it because of how complicated it is. 

Steve and Eddie manage to get the dress off of you and Eddie tosses it to the side before the two of them bring their mouths to your tits, one for each of them. Their tongues are swirling around your nipples and you swear you’re going to have an orgasm right there. 

“So pretty, baby,” Steve murmurs against your skin. He’s always so complimentary and it never fails to make you feel better about yourself. His tone is gentle and you know he means what he’s saying every time. You can see it in his honey eyes.

“Prettiest fucking tits I’ve ever seen,” Eddie adds. His compliments are more forward, more dirty than Steve’s, but you love how different they are from each other. They’re your boys and they never back down from an opportunity to tell you or show you just how much they love you. 

They each take one of your hands as they work, licking and sucking roughly as kind words fall  from their lips every so often. They’ve gotten so good at giving you exactly what you need when you need it and it always surprises you how they always seem to be able to read your mind. 

They’ve done this exact thing more times than you can count, but you can’t help but notice how different this one is. How you’ve managed to let your thoughts float out of your brain and just focus on what’s happening. In the past, you would just think about how exposed you feel, but right now, all you can think about is how good it all feels.

You’re about to respond when Steve sucks on your nipple he’s got in his mouth and Eddie brings the other one between his teeth, biting down gently. Steve eventually catches on and does the same thing, biting down on your nipple and you’re holding onto the sheets underneath for dear life as a loud moan falls from your lips, an orgasm already rolling through you. 

Your back arches as you reach completion and suddenly, you feel the insecurity lessen, especially when they’re coaching you through the orgasm, using every nickname they have for you with the most gentle tones. 

“That’s it, hon,” Steve encourages as the two of them pull away just in time to watch you. 

“Just like that, sweetheart,” Eddie nods. They think you’re satisfied with what they’ve just done, but you’re still begging for more, needing something else. And they’re more than happy to oblige. Anything to keep their girl happy. 

They’re kissing down your body, murmured compliments falling from their lips and you feel nothing but love radiating from the two of them. This is honestly the best you’ve ever felt, especially during sex with your boyfriends. You feel like a new woman, no longer shy about responding positively to their touches. 

“I love these,” Eddie says as he lets his fingers run along your hip bone where you’ve got a cluster of stretch marks. 

“You do?” You ask in shock. That seemed to be the one thing that always turned people off so you had gotten into the habit of covering them up. 

“Mhm,” he nods. “So pretty,” he compliments before bringing his lips to the skin, pressing soft kisses to it. And Steve follows, doing the same thing on your other hip, his lips ghosting over your skin, being so gentle with you. 

Steve and Eddie then get on the floor in front of you, each pulling on a leg to pull you closer to them and before you can ask what they’re doing, they’re grabbing hold of your legs and lowering their heads down to your inner thighs, pulling at the fishnets with their teeth and all you can hear is a loud ripping sound as holes are being torn in your tights. 

And you don’t even mind. In fact, you think it’s really hot, how they’re both so desperate to get to your cunt. After a few minutes, they manage to rip from your thighs to your crotch and together, they pull your thong down before each of them rest a hand on your knees as they spread your legs to see what they’re working with. 

“Is all of this for us?” Eddie asks as he stares down at your sopping wet cunt. “Shit, sweetheart, you shouldn’t have. Good thing we brought our appetite, huh, Stevie?” He nudges his boyfriend and they then each drape one of your legs over one of their shoulders. 

And in the blink of an eye, they dive straight into your cunt, Eddie going for your cunt while Steve goes for your slit, they’re both working their magic with their mouths and you’re embarrassed at how you feel like you’re already going to orgasm again. 

“You taste even better than the other night,” Eddie says. “God, could eat you for hours, doll.”

“I agree. You taste absolutely divine,” Steve agrees and then they’re at it again, licking and sucking on your cunt roughly and you’re grasping onto the sheets so hard that you’re practically white-knuckling it. What they’re doing feels so good that you feel your eyes rolling back into your head, your hands moving to their hair, giving it a rough tug in response to the pleasure that’s rolling through you. And just when you think they’re close, Steve’s tongue enters you and your thighs push their heads together as his tongue hits just the right spot, causing you to reach your climax yet again. And since he doesn’t want to take all the fun, Eddie takes over soon after, taking turns making you orgasm until you’re going absolutely stupid, almost seeming drunk. 

And then together, they clean you up, making sure to tell you just how good you did while they got you dressed. And once you’re in one of Eddie’s t-shirt, they climb into the bed with you on either side as the three of you cuddle, the two of them stroking your hair and rubbing your back until you’ve fallen asleep in their arms, waking up in the morning fully ready for round two.

[maybefalsefacts]

The first time Logan saw Wade in drag, he thought someone broke into their apartment

Visually, Logan had no initial recognition.

Long blond hair. Big chest. Smooth skin. Tight dress. Tall boots. Long gloves.

Logan would have unsheathed his claws and tore the intruder to shreds for daring to invade his den.

Would have.

If not for those familiar baby blues staring out at him in shock and horror.

Logan knew those eyes. Knew them like he knew every star in the sky. Knew them like he could walk their apartment blindfolded and drunk.

Then he smelled the weird mix of makeup and hair products that came from the assortment of shoeboxes Wade kept on the top shelf of their closet.

Hanging up his jacket and toeing off his boots, Logan closed the door behind him. Stepping closer, he found the underlying scents of Wade's coconut body wash and the bitter smell of death that followed the merc everywhere.

Looking closer, Logan noticed the other details. Wade's waist. Wade's arms. Wade's thighs. Wade's fingers tapping irratically. Wade's breathing picking up.

Wade was frozen.

Logan was home early. Wade hadn't planned on getting caught. He hadn't wanted Logan to see.

Logan was... Confused. But, ever the supportive boyfriend, "You look nice. Going somewhere?"

As Wade buffered, Logan walked casually to the kitchen. He pulled a root beer (he was trying to cut back on real beer) from the fridge and snagged a piece of jerky from the fancy jar on the counter (it was too heavy for Puppins to move and she couldn't open it. Her dog treats were in the matching jar beside it).

Back in the living room, Logan got comfy in his recliner and raised an eyebrow at Wade.

Finally snapping out of it, he started messing with his dress and gloves. "Ummm... You're... Home early?"

Cracking open his root beer, "Yeah. Power outage in the shop. It won't be fixed till tomorrow, so they sent everybody home."

Wade nodded absently, looking anywhere but at Logan. "Makes sense."

Puppins lept up onto Logan's lap and he patted her absently. To Wade, he gently called, "Hey, you alright?"

Wade straightened, "What? Yeah! I'm great! I'm excellent. I'm-"

Sensing a long-winded ramble coming on, Logan cut him off, "Wade."

Wade flinched.

Logan waited.

When Wade's eyes finally found their way to his, Logan held out a hand.

Slowly, Wade stepped gracefully around the couch, heels clicking on the hard wood.

Pushing Puppins back to the floor and setting his drink aside, Logan gently pulled Wade down to sit on the arm of the chair. He put one arm around Wade's waist and the other brought those sexy black boots across his lap.

Though Wade came willingly, he chewed on his cherry-painted lips the whole time.

There were times when all Logan had to do was wait for Wade to talk. Let the other man ramble until he got to the real topic. This, clearly, was not one of those times.

Reaching up, Logan used his thumb to pull Wade's poor lip from between his teeth. Softly, "Do you want to tell me why you're getting all dressed up? Or just skip to me telling you that you didn't have to hide it?"

Wade's eyes met Logan's once more, full of disbelief and hope. "I... I know it's weird bu-"

Logan cut him off again, "No. Putting ketchup on your pancakes is weird. This is-"

"Disturbing? Disgusting? Gay? An insult to masculinity?"

Logan frowned, "I was going to say, this seems very important to you. Especially since you were so worried about my reaction that you didn't want me to know about it at all."

"Oh." Wade looked down at his hands, playing with his fingers. "Um..."

"Wade."

Wade flinched again.

"Does this make you happy?"

Wade continued to stare down at his hands. Eventually, he gave the smallest of nods.

Logan nodded too, like that settled the matter. Because it did.

"Well, then, go have fun. Go drink, or dance, or fuck around, or Femme Fatale, or whatever it is you do. And, when you come home, I'm going to bend you over the couch and fuck you until you smell mine again."

Wade blinked at him wide-eyed, unable to believe what he was hearing.

Logan was just... Letting him go? Sending him out? Like this? He wasn't disgusted? Or jealous? Or weirded out?

Completely overwhelmed by how amazing his boyfriend was, Wade leaned down and kissed Logan senseless.

[overnightheartbeats]

The thought of her already making an impression didn't sound right, but if his memory of when he first saw her was any indicator, then she was inclined to believe him. "I have to say, the dancing was unexpected, but it turned out to be my favorite part of the night." One conversation, one dance, and Laurel was hooked. That led her to a diner, and so on. “Hm, yeah,” she hummed in thought thinking of home. “California was home. I was tempted to be honest.” Juju probably would’ve loved it. “I just couldn’t bring myself to leave my dad. It’s just me and him now. No other family, really. Felt terrible to run off and leave him.” Being the second person to do that to him just didn’t feel right. “It does! I’m really excited for them to come over, soon I think.” Juju’s words crept into her mind, wanting to meet him and all. Not a good time to mention that though. “They said they’d try visiting soon, her and her boyfriend. Maybe next month?”

She was quickly discovering that she loved making him laugh. It was such a sweet sound, one she could hear again and again. “Oh, so you’re not above bribery? I’m intrigued.” The look on his face, with that smirk, invited trouble. And Laurel was immediately intrigued, ready to be bribed. His confirmation made her smile, because she still couldn’t tell if they were just joking around, but being kept warm by him seemed worth everything. “Sometimes both, so honestly any and all warm is appreciated. I promise not to touch you with my cold, cold hands.”

“You can hold me to anything you want, but yes promise no judgment on the awesome blankets.” Though, now she was very curious what kind of blankets these were. Did they have some amusing design on them? Or the character blankets, like Spider-Man or something? “And, I hope we still like each other at the end of this getting to know you session,” finishing her earlier sentence. Laurel’s features softened further, her smile growing as she returned the gentle squeeze. Well, well — now, it was her turn to smirk. Amusement tugging on her lips as they both agreed on this eventual next time. “do you? Time to bring out all my wooing skills then. Just to make sure I don’t miss my chance.” Talking about Jenny made her feel awkward, shaking her head at his comment. It certainly seemed like she was upset, but part of her hoped that wasn’t true. “I hope not, because you have very pretty eyes.”

That comforted her, knowing he was willing to share with her after her awkward question. "Thank you..for, more or less, feeling comfortable to answer." Laurel listened to him talk about family and the birthday celebration, exasperation was evident in his tone. She wondered if he genuinely didn't like celebrating his birthday, just something for her to know - future reference and all. “I have, but that’s nice to see - that kind of commitment to your family. I feel like most people are eager to leave their family and be independent. Hm, I’m glad they insist. You deserve to be celebrated, and cake is never too bad I hope.” She looked his way, trying to decipher if he was serious but his laughter confirmed it for her quickly enough. “Oh, tempting? Funny you say that, I was thinking the same thing. Well, the push and pull can be fun. I promise I’m not as stubborn as my sign says. Sexy, really? Consider me an expert on all things astrology then.” She definitely wasn’t one by any means, but laurel was quick to sign up. “Okay, next question: hobbies. Can I assume dancing is one of them?” Considering they had found the time to dance the two times they crossed paths.

"That you are or well I should say you already had." Laurel had made quite the impression even before he officially met her. "I am too. It worked out that I didn't stay in bed like my original plan had been. To be fair the Halloween party was fun all things considered. I did take you out on the dance floor. Wasn't all bad." His smile grew the longer he stared at her. "Is that where you're from? You did say Texas wasn't your home either. How come you didn't go to college out there? You could have left your dad and gone back?" Eli nodded his head as he smiled thinking of her friend coming to see her. "Bet that makes you happy. Do you know when you'll see her?"

Her laughter made him laugh, it was a contagious moment which they shared together in a odd little way. "Good to know bribery works on you. May end up being my secret weapon." A smirk crossed his features as he gave her a look to say he was thinking up ways to bribe her. "Fair point," he confirmed. "I'll keep you warm. Why not. Is it your feet or hands that get cold?"

"Alright I'll be holding you to that. Dont judge my awesome blankets." Though the thought of her finding the tiger blankets on his bed made him chuckle to himself. He heard her stutter briefly and looked over in fear he had said or done something wrong. But when he locked eyes with her he couldn't help but smile. Squeezing her hand a little bit tighter. "And what?" he prompted her to finish that sentence. "I promise next time you can get both lunch and dinner for me. I do like to be wooed." he shrugged giving a slight mischievous smile. "I really do think that if you weren't there she'd have clawed my eyes out. Took a lot for her to hold back I presume."

"Don't be. If I wasn't comfortable I wouldn't have answered. But yeah, we're close. I drop everything for them as you have clearly seen. As for the holiday birthday. It's alright. I've never seen a reason to celebrate it since it isn't even my actual one. Who knows when I was actually born. But family insist on it every year." He sounded exasperated but reality was he enjoyed it especially getting a cake after his complaining. "Tempting," he laughed. "But no. I wouldn't ghost you. Something tells me we'd be compatible. A little bit of a push and pull I'd guess but nothing we couldn't conquer if we worked together. I can be pretty level headed if need be. I find astrology rather sexy so I mean, if you want to talk eight world wonders to me then by all means."

[ticklishbabybat]

Semi-domme post incoming (inspired by a cutie in my messages 💋)

Hello, my pretty little thing. I’m sure you’ve had a long day and I’m sure you must be exhausted. I’m no doctor, but I think it would do you good to lie down and let me give you all the attention that you desire.

So, I’ve made the bed up for you. Restraints are there for you, of course, but maybe you’re exhausted enough that you won’t wanna move when I touch you. But I also understand if you wanna be tied up anyway, because you love that, don’t you?

Maybe you’re in something cute and girly because you know I’ll fawn over it, or maybe you’re in nothing because you know it’ll drive me wild.

Either way, I’m gonna turn the lights down low, put on something that makes me feel sexy, and crawl on top of you. And I won’t go too intense at first. I’ll spend a good while playing with your hair, tracing my nails over your face gently while I tell you what a good girl you are, how proud I am of you for getting through the day, how you look so pretty tonight, how happy I am that you’re going to be such a good girl for me. Isn’t that right?

Don’t worry, I’ll go at your pace. I’ll tickle from your neck to your toes and every. Spot. In. Between. I won’t leave any stone unturned. I’ll be gentle at first, and I’ll go as rough as you want me to. I’ll even coax some other sensations out of you, if you like. There’s no false hope here: you may be mine tonight, but you’re the boss.

So… sound like a plan, kitten? 💋

[beelanddiavolosimp-blog]

Brothers with a MC who likes to read wattpat (Lets call it devilpat here 💀) of sexy men and they get jealous. Bruh I just randomly got this idea. Thank you sm!💗✨️

This is honestly so funny to me because I always wondered how they would react to even like celebrity crushes too 😂

How the brothers would react to a Devilpat(Wattpad) reading Mc

Lucifer

At first he always wondered what you were reading so intently on your phone. He was amazed you could spend so much hours just reading over and over. He was seeing you highly that is until he caught a glimpse of what you were reading. He didn't say anything at first just basically sulked about it all day. 'why are they reading that stuff? They can just ask me to do it...' and he eventually spoke up getting annoyed with now seeing you constantly read the stuff. "MC! I know what you are reading and I would much rather you have that type of gaze on me." He says all proud and stern. You remove said gaze and look at him. "Don't worry Luci I was imagining it was you the whole time" you say with a smile. Let's just say his pride went up and he now doesn't mind much.

Mammon

He did notice you were always on your phone. How could he not? He watches everything you do. Whenever he asked he saw how you brushed it off and didn't really say anything about it. He decided to take matters into his own hands. When you were reading on your phone he suddenly snatched it out of your hand and ran off reading what was on the screen. He immediately halted and stood still for a minute. After you caught up to him you snatched the phone away from him. "Mams what the hell!" You yell at him. He pointed at the phone "why...why do you read that stuff? Am I not enough for you?" He whined. After a bit of reassurance and telling him you were reading thinking of him he eased up a bit but he still is not a fan of the app.

Levi

He knew immediately what app that was and what you were reading about. He had Devilpat once himself for more fluff scenarios since he couldn't handle any higher. But did he secretly read over your shoulder and look up the exact thing you were reading all the time? Nope. Definitely not. He was jealous of course when it came down to the initial finding out but as time passed he realized all the characters had this strange resemblance to him. He just gaslight himself into thinking you thought of him. That is until he saw you reading with a character that was not like him (appearance wise). And he freaked. He suddenly babbled on about you being his everything and he didn't want you browsing an app for all the lovey stuff he could do with you instead. After calming him down you explained what he guessed and that the recent character was very submissive so it reminded you of him. He was overjoyed you were thinking of him but he also still didn't like the app. He in fact begged you to delete it often.

Satan

He just thought you were as he was. Constantly reading whatever you could find even as it was on a phone and not an actual book. He let it go for a bit until you started giggling and blushing at certain things. Were you reading a romance book? Why? He decided to look into this said app. Well what he found when browsing Devilpat was uh. Interesting. He eventually confronted you as professionally as he could. "Oh yeah I just like reading that stuff is all" he stares at you then at your phone. "You enjoy reading porn?" He suddenly says. After a long explanation that it's not just porn on the app he then felt relieved. He felt even better when you stated you were thinking of the scenarios with him even. He then didn't care much after that.

Asmos

This freak saw the app and immediately said what he liked to read. Hardcore smut barely any fluff unless he's 'sad' he stated. You told him you didn't read just pure porn and he just gave you a 'yeah okay honey' look. He didn't really care what you were reading about more so the fact you were paying attention to the phone more than himself.

Beel

He didn't even notice that you were reading on your phone he just enjoyed that you were near him doing it. He did one day look at your screen and attempt to read some words. He then decided to ask fully not being able to hide his curiosity of course. Once telling him what you were reading and why he then let it go. It was just fiction why should he care? He even saw some good romance stories online in an ad and recommended them to you.

Belphie

He was half asleep most of the time so he didn't even notice what you were reading all the time. He did notice however when in class when you woke him up leaving your phone on the table. He read through a bit then looked over at you. "Why read that stuff? You that lonely?" He suddenly teased. When you yell at him and then explain every category and what they are he just sighs. "I don't care just don't go obsessing over something fictional when I'm right here okay?" He says and then takes your hand to hold his. Definitely not doing it so you can't scroll on the phone yeah definitely not.

[schniggles]

1 thru 6 for the slay the princess ask game!

(Explore) What's your favorite Chapter?

I HAVE to say Chapter 3: The Princess and the Dragon. what can I say, I think The Long Quiet is big sexy and we don’t get to look at him full-on anywhere else!!

(Explore) If you have a least favorite Chapter, then how would you go about changing it?

Chapter 2: The Nightmare for sure. It just feels… not scary! And I’m a huge weenie so that’s saying something! It needed more buildup. I didn’t feel really threatened, even despite the best efforts of VotParanoid’s delivery when the Nightmare got too close. Maybe it takes longer for the Nightmare to jump you if you walk around a bit in the maze. (Then again, I’m sure Black Tabby made it the length it was for a reason so ¯\_(ツ)_/¯)

(Explore) Who's your favorite Vessel?

Honestly? Damsel, possibly. First Vessel I got in the very first demo, for one thing! The skin of the construct feels particularly close, with her. She doesn’t want to hurt The Long Quiet, so — in concert with his actions — she becomes something that can’t hurt him. Her route is genuinely unsettling. (Shout-out to Smitten for selling the creepy, lmao.)

(Explore) If you have a least favorite Vessel, then what do you think would make you like her?

Do I have a least favorite? Hmmm… I mean I don’t vibe with the Tower but that’s just because I want to be the dommy mommy, I don’t think that’s a problem with her.

(Explore) Who's your favorite Voice?

HERO!!! HERO HERO HEROOOOO, MY BELOVED!!! The worst thing you ever did was respect the decider’s choices too much. Mwah mwah mwah. 

(Explore) If you have a least favorite Voice, then what do you think could make you like him?

Broken, but specifically in his own route. Idk I think if he was more overtly needy it might be more compelling. I get that he’s the part of TLQ that doesn’t want to be hurt anymore, but c’mon dude.

(Even so, I love how the Voices are all parts of a whole personality, I love how they’re both reflections of the player/TLQ and shards of the Narrator/Echo. The Narrator can control TLQ in chapter 1, but after that, the Voices take over. It’s such a great ludonarrative integration.)

(Slay the Princess ask meme)

[pygmi-cygni]

domestic oscar isaac characters

headcanons really help writer's block.

Anselm

has found the secret to a happy marriage: keeping you well-fucked, well-funded and well-fed. that way you want for nothing unless it is dire.

He'll buy you gifts, typically with some innuendo, give you a healthy couple of orgasms, and have the cooks make you a delectable feast for dinner. If he had his way you'd just be in bed all day, being pleasured and dining on an exquisite menu.

Probably the first marriage ever consummated during the vows. Your wedding attire was too much, he couldn't handle it. He has you keep it for your anniversaries so you can recreate the scene.

Anselm talks about you relentlessly to his clients. By god the man won't shut up. He uses it as a measure of character; how politely will the guests speak about you and if they'll let him derail the meeting to talk lovingly about your latest accomplishment?

Very patient and loving. Seriously Gomez Addams coded. Sometimes he gets so overworked thinking about all the big things to show his love that he forgets the little things. You gently remind him that sometimes a night in is okay and that you don't have to do anything wild in the bedroom, as long as he's with you.

refuses to discuss a will and testament or any after-death things. Doesn't even want to think about it.

Nathan

already did this for him but idc.

likes existing together. Both of you have your hobbies, they don't necessarily have to involve both of you, but if you can do them together in the same space, that's enough for him.

lets you do your thing, but likes to keep tabs on your location. Not in a stalker way, but it helps his anxiety if you go somewhere without him. Sometimes he'll just text you a hello? and you'll respond with how you're feeling and how quickly you'll be home.

clingy.

also very tactile. if he fucks up programming or something, back rubs and a hug are good ways to calm him down.

Really good at remembering anniversaries and dates. He doesn't like big showy things though. Small, sentimental gifts or watching a movie on the couch.

Leto

ensures your relationship is as stable as stone. Communicates so well, always says what he's feeling, would not keep a secret even if he was at gunpoint.

everything he counsels runs by you first. every plan he makes, every decision, all will have your input. He makes you a wax seal and refuses to acknowledge anything if it isn't on the paper.

makes sure to have an hour with you alone every day. Could be sexy, could be a meal together, could be taking a walk around the grounds, but he needs that hour. If he's ever on a trip, he schedules a holo conference.

If the matter of children ever arises, I think he'd listen to you very carefully. He'd do everything the way you prefer, and be very attentive during the entire process. Leto would forbid a wet nurse or any kind of nanny, in order to keep you and the baby safe.

not opposed to holding the baby during a council meeting. what's anybody gonna say about it?

Poe

literally the most wholesome relationship ever.

makes you laugh, teases you, runs around like a teenager. some people say 'oh he'll never settle.'

but he can keep it serious too. He always checks in if you're feeling down or stressed. Will literally elope with you if you show any stress at all about the wedding. Even if it's just about cake flavors.

idk if any of you know Sheena Melwani and her husband TRID but I think he'd be a lot like TRID. go check them out on youtube it's so wholesome.

dances with you every night. He loves music, and will always pick a song from the planets he visits to show you when he returns. Your favorites are his home planet Yavin, Naboo and Coruscant.

gets matching tattoos with you of a little x wing and a planet. (you're the planet obviously, because he thinks of you as home)

I'll make a part two but this is who I fit in this one.

@krakenkitty @ominoose @bulletgoth @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction @justsomeonecalledemma

@iolaussharpe-24 @rosegnome @twwcs @heeheehoohoofictimr @steven-grants-world

@ael-xander @to-be-a-sunshine @weasleyswizarding-wheezes @silvernight-m @lonelyisamyw-0love 

@unear7hly @chaithetics

[cellythefloshie]

;; I Did Something Bad Dedicated to @hockeyboysimagines

Summary: After you send a sexy snap to the wrong Brady, you and your stepbrother cross a line that you had never considered crossing before. Kinks & Tropes: Age Gap (18 vs. 22). Stepcest. Phone Sex/Sexting. Praise. Mutual Masturbation. Protective Big Brother. Reader Nickname: "Sissy". PLEASE NOTE, this work of fiction depicts a budding sexual relationship between step-siblings who grew up together from ages 10 and 14 - step-siblings who always considered one another siblings. -- Set during Brady's time as a New York Ranger. Word Count: 4k+ A/N: Happy Birthday to the lovely @hockeyboysimagines ! You have been the best worst influence for me as a writer, always encouraging me to write what I want to write instead of what I should be working on. And you very well know October was meant to be spent with the filthiest of Brady Skjei content. This is very much the tip of the iceberg for Brady and his stepsister, and I couldn't be more thrilled to get the two of them going because of your birthday. This fic is in no way groundbreaking, but it's filthy and fun and maybe even a little toxic. But if I know someone who is going to appreciate it for their birthday, it's you! AND a quick little shout out to @hagelpoint-3821 who was around when my filthy mind birthed this idea probably 2 years ago now! It's finally happening!

“Do you always think of me when you touch yourself?”

Your blood ran cold. You recognized the voice in an instant, and it wasn't the one you expected to hear when you answered the phone. And it was nowhere near anything you thought would leave your stepbrother's mouth. 

His words sent a rush of heat surging through you. It sent your skin red hot with embarrassment as you lay in bed, one hand still in your panties and the other holding the phone to your ear so tightly your hand ached. You wished the embarrassment could have been for him. That he had somehow dialed the wrong number. That he meant to dial whichever slut he had in whichever city he was in for the night. But that was just a dream of a possibility, because he knew exactly what he was doing when he phoned you. 

Silently, you drew your phone back from your face, a quivering breath trembling through your body as you opened Snapchat on your phone and looked at your last sent messages. At the top of the list was Brady, the red and white arrow beside his name showing you the last message sent to him was minutes ago. And just below him, the intended recipient of your message, Braedy. He was an idiot you’d met in the back row of your first year psychology class. You’d exchanged numbers on the first day, which led to helping him with assignments while he helped you with orgasms. But while he was in his dorm room across campus, rock hard and waiting for your next risque picture, you lay still in bed with your stepbrother on the other end of the phone. 

Swallowing hard, in an attempt to moisten your dry mouth, you accepted that the silence had been too long to pretend that you hadn’t accidentally sent him a picture of your hand in your panties. 

“I-” you started, but you formed no words. Anything you could have thought to say became strangled in your throat.  "Sissy, was that picture not meant for me?" Brady asked, saving you from the need to provide him with some sort of explanation, but it didn't make you feel any better. Your heart continued to pound against your chest as it flooded with panic and embarrassment.

“No, I, ah-” you breathed, your attempt at words more of a stutter than the beginnings of an explanation. 

“And I thought you were being a good girl-” your core clenched “-focusing on your studies on campus. I don’t have to come down there and check in on you, do I?”

You shook your head slowly as if he could see it, your hair becoming a mess on your pillow. Your breathing was shallow and uneven, your body hot and sweaty even as you lay there in nothing but a cropped t-shirt and your panties. Panties that your hand had yet you leave and your crotch was still damp with arousal from the brief exchange of photos before Brady’s interruption. An interruption that should have dried you up like a desert. Yet, you were just as wet as when you answered the call, if not wetter. 

“Are you still there, sissy?” It was only with his words that you realized he couldn’t see your response. 

“No, I-” your throat caught your words as you fumbled with what exactly to say. Brady’s words were so calm, sounding cautious and thought out, while your mind was so frantic you couldn’t even think of the right words to say. 

“I’m still here,” you confirmed with a breath, “and no, you don’t need to check on me.” 

“I’ll be in the area next week,” he hummed slowly, and your eyes darted to the calendar that was on your bedside table. The Rangers would play in Minnesota soon, and while you were sure the team wouldn’t give him time to come visit you on campus, Brady never seemed to fail at scaring any prospecting partners away. It was the big-brother thing to do, or at least that’s always what you guys told yourselves. But as he spoke with his words so thought out as if he was trying to tiptoe through the situation with caution, you couldn’t help but wonder if it was and had always been a little more than that. 

“No, no,” you protested, “I’ll be good.”

“Will you?” Brady challenged. “Be a good girl and block that boy for me.”

“Brady-”

“Do it and show me.” The firmness of his voice sent a wave of heat through you. There would be no fighting him on this, so you obliged.

Slowly, your hand left your panties, the elastic waistband snapping against your hip before you brought your now freed hand up to your phone. You cradled the phone in both hands as you turned on the screen recording and captured blocking your classmate, Braedy, on Snapchat and his phone number. Then you sent the video to your stepbrother, Brady. 

“Good girl,” he praised you, “keep it that way, alright, Sissy. No distractions. Promise.”

“I promise,” you breathed out, though you were fully entertaining the idea of unblocking Braedy as soon as this awkward phone call was over. What Brady didn’t know wouldn’t hurt him, or you. 

“Good girl,” he said again, your body reacting the same to his soft praise, and it nearly left you reeling against your pillow. You shouldn’t be feeling that way, especially with Brady on the phone. Yet, you forced out a quivering breath and chalked it up to coincidence and the poor timing of his call. “Are you in bed?” he asked you slowly. 

“Yes,” you confirmed. 

“Wearing those pretty little panties?”

You lay there in the same silence that had consumed you when you had heard his voice when you had answered the call. Had you just heard him right, or was your mind playing tricks on you? Or maybe, just maybe, you had fallen asleep watching shitty pornography, and this was all just a dream. 

You pinched yourself. 

No, not a dream. 

You had accidentally sent your stepbrother a suggestive photo, and now he was what, trying to have phone sex with you? It didn’t make sense, but did all at once.

The two of you had always been close, even if your parents hadn’t married until you were 10 and he was 14. He had snapped into your life so perfectly. Brady was the big brother you had always wanted. From helping you with your homework, to attending both his high school football games and his hockey games, too. The two of you did it all together. Even when he was off to college, you were there supporting him, counting down the days until you too would attend the same university in his footsteps. And then there were the jokes, made by your own parents, that if the two of you weren’t siblings, the two of you would get married. It was always a joke, one that both you and Brady had laughed at - but it was all coming to crest now. Had the joke always been funny because it was true?

The two of you just never admitted it - or fully entertained the idea - until you had forced it all by accident. 

Biting down on your lip, you chewed it slowly as you took in a slow breath. You had a decision to make, and the weight of it rested heavily on your chest. You could answer him, paint a sexy little picture for him with your words, or you could hang up. 

“Brady,” his name was weak on your lips, your tongue darting out to run over your lips slowly. 

“Sorry,” he spoke quickly, “I can hang up. We can pretend this didn’t happen-”

“No, don’t,” you spoke out too quickly as you shot up in bed, “don’t hang up.” 

He replied with nothing but a soft sigh, one that sounded like a smile and relief. 

Slowly, you pressed up onto your knees, your thighs pressing firmly together to ease the tension that continued to build throughout your body. One hand left your phone and tucked your hair behind your ears and out of your face before falling to rest on the top of your thighs. “Where are you right now?” 

“My hotel room in Detroit,” he answered slowly. 

You swallowed hard. “Alone?”

Brady hummed his confirmation into the phone, sparking a sense of excitement into you. “Maybe,” your lips curled up into a soft smile as you spoke, “I could send you another picture. Would that be wrong?”

Yes. Yes, it would. But he didn’t stop you. Instead, Brady encouraged you. “Wrong? No. It’s just a picture, right?” You weren't sure if he was trying to convince you, or if he was trying to convince himself that what you were about to do was okay. 

His words made you giddy when they should have. And with a stupid smile, your phone left your ear as you positioned yourself on the bed. You knelt there with your legs slightly spread so he could have a clear view of your panties. Snapping the picture, you wrinkled your nose at the outcome. You didn’t like it. You posed again after fixing your shirt just right to show off just the right amount of under-boob in the next picture. It was great, but there was one issue: you could see your face. Thumb hesitating over the send button, you contemplated about taking another, one where you couldn't see your face. A picture like the ones you had sent your classmate earlier. Yet, you hit send. Because this was Brady, and if he shared it with anyone else, he would get into as much trouble as you would. 

“There, I sent it to you,” you told him as you brought the phone back up to your ear.

You could hear Brady's satisfied hum through the phone as you relaxed back on the bed. “You look so pretty on your knees,” he told you and you threw yourself back on the pillow with a too wide grin. “Such an amazing body you have, Sissy.”

Your cheeks flushed with color. This wasn’t the first time he’s seen so much of your skin. Your family had taken a vacation somewhere hot every year for as long as you could remember, but this was the first time Brady could really comment on it. 

“Can I show you something?” Brady asked, and your heart quickened. 

“Yes,” you nodded eagerly, and you waited patiently, your face half buried in your pillow as you waited for his picture to be sent. 

Yet, when that red square popped up on your screen, you hesitated to open it. It was one thing to send a picture, but to receive one. Opening it would mean you both crossed a line and there would be no coming back from it. Then, as you did most decisions, you took the risky option with no consideration for the repercussions you would face in the future. You held your thumb down on the screen, the sight it unlocked leaving your breath to hitch in the back of your throat. 

Your eyes went to the shadow of his abs first and traveled down the dark trail of hair on his stomach as it began just below his navel and disappeared behind the gray fabric of his sweatpants. Licking your lips, you indulge yourself in the sight of his cock tenting up against his sweatpants. You had no words, your mouth falling agape in a heavy exhale as you tried to keep your body calm. But it was too late. Your skin was hot with arousal and on the verge of sweating, and as you pressed your ass down into the mattress, you could feel just how slick you were between your thighs. 

Raising your phone back up to your ear, you greeted Brady with a quivering breath and he spoke with confidence into your ear. There was no need to tiptoe around things now. “You see what your little accident did to me?”

“Oh? Did I do that?” you answered his question with a question, your words knowing and sickeningly sweet as you let your hand run down your own stomach and stopped at the waistband of your panties. Your fingers traced over its edge slowly, craving to dip deeper, but you would wait. 

“Do you think you can help me take care of it?” Brady asked, and you could hear the smile in his voice. You bit your lip, hiding your own smile from yourself, and he must have taken it as a moment of hesitation because Brady’s words found your ear again. “You have such a great body, Sissy. It’s so hard to ignore, and that picture,” he let out a long exasperated breath, “send me another one?”

“What do you want to see?” You asked him. Your words were a breath that you thought he might not even have heard. 

“Whatever you’re comfortable showing me,” Brady answered. 

His words had been soft, melting you further and further into the mess of a puddle that you were. “Let me just,” you hummed out, “give me one second.”

Peeling the phone away from your ear, you opened Snapchat again. You tried to take a picture laying down, but each one left you feeling undesirable. Then you rolled over onto your side where you knew your cleavage would be the star of the show if you had been wearing anything else, but the high neckline of your cropped sleep shirt kept your breasts at bay. You let out a frustrated huff as you moved to the edge of the bed and spread your legs. At this angle, he could see just how wet the crotch of your panties was. 

With your phone in one hand, you posed with the other. You placed it on your inner thigh first, but you didn’t like that. Then, you rested it over your panties but decided it was too close to the first image he had received. You almost gave up, but then, with the quick swipe of your thumb over the screen, you were recording yourself as your fingers dipped inside the fabric of your panties and found your clit. You pressed into it with the pads of your fingers and stroked it in two slow, agonizing circles before you sent it, without reviewing it, to Brady. 

Your hand didn’t leave your panties as you sprawled out lazily over the bed. Stroking yourself slowly, you listened to Brady breathe into the phone, undoubtedly watching the clip you had just sent to him. 

“Fuck,” he cursed, and you pressed into your clit harder, “so beautiful, sissy. You’re so wet,” Brady let out a low groan, “you make my cock so hard.”

“Are you touching yourself, Brady?” You asked him, your words breathy, “Touching yourself, because of me?”

“I am,” he confirmed with a heavy breath into the phone, “you want to see it, Sissy?”

“Mhm,” you hummed, your feet leaving the floor to dig into the mattress. You dipped your fingers down lower, parting your wet lips and teasing the entrance of your core as you waited for the notification to buzz against your ear. It almost startled you when it did, even if you were expecting it. 

Lulling your head to the side, you let the clip play. Brady was laying in the hotel bed now, his sweatpants pulled down just below his balls. His hockey hardened hand wrapped around his thick cock as she stroked it slowly. Up and down, then up again, making sure you could see the very length of him. 

Your eyes shut as the clip disappeared, trying to keep the sight of it in your mind as you plunged two fingers into your dripping core. 

“Brady,” you gasped out, your phone laying back on the bed almost completely abandoned until you had reached out quickly to put the call on speaker. You couldn’t hold it any longer. You needed both hands now. With your two fingers in your cunt, your other hand dipped beneath the cotton and found your clit again, rubbing it in those same slow circles. 

“You like that, Sissy?” Brady’s voice erupted from the phone beside you, and you were suddenly thankful that your roommate had been spending the night at her boyfriend’s place. No one would overhear him saying things stepbrother shouldn’t say, and no one would hear you moan. 

“Mhm,” you hummed, and it sounded like a whine.

“What are you doing now?” Brady asked you slowly, his words quick as he breathed through the pleasure of his own hand. “Your hand still in your panties, Sissy?”

“Yes,” you gasped out, “they feel so good.”

“What feels good?” Brady asked you slowly, “tell me.” 

“My fingers,” you squeezed your eyes tighter, fighting to speak your words when all you wanted to do was moan. “My fingers in my cunt.”

“That’s so sexy,” he told you and a wave of heat hit you, pushing you closer and closer to the edge that you already felt on the verge of falling over. “How many?”

“Two,” you panted out. 

“Two? That’s not nearly enough.” A lump formed in the back of your throat as he spoke. “No, no, I think I’m at least three of your fingers.” Your walls clenched at the very idea of sliding a third finger into your core, and your hips wiggled, taking your own fingers until they were knuckle deep at the very prospect of pretending that you were being fucked by his thick cock. “Can you do that for me, Sissy? Put a third finger in for me?”

Withdrawing your fingers, you brought three fingers together and pressed the very tip of them to your entrance. You gasped at just how much more they would fill you. “Brady, that’s too much,” you gasped. 

“Would I be too much for you, Sissy?” His question made you shiver. “Is my cock too big for that pretty little pussy of yours?”

“I-I,” you stammered, your heart racing deep in your chest as you hesitated to even try. 

“Take a breath, get nice and relaxed for me,” his words were soft as he guided you, “circle your cunt with three fingers for me. What do you feel?”

“I’m dripping,” you told him with a quivering voice. “I can feel it all down the back of my hand.”

“Good girl,” he cooed, “so slick and horny for my cock. Slowly press just the tips of your fingers. Nice and slow.” His words were gentle and encouraging as you followed his guidance, your core feeling so tight around the tips of your fingers, but the longer you held them there, still inside your cunt, the better it felt. 

“And when you’re ready, press in just a little bit more.” Delving your fingers in deeper, you let out an audible gasp, one that left Brady moaning on the other end of the phone. 

“You okay?” 

“Yeah,” you assured, your toes curling over the edge of your bed as you pumped your fingers in and out of your dripping core. “It feels so good, Brady.”

“I can hear how wet you are, Sissy,” Brady groaned. “You like this? You like thinking of me when you touch yourself. Talking to me when your fingers are buried in your cunt.”

“Yes,” you groaned through your grit teeth, “yes! I’m so close, Brady.”

“Don’t hold back. I want to hear you come. I want to hear what you sound like when you moan,” he encouraged you, and you could hear his hand pumping at his cock. 

Your body reeled in your bed, your hips jutted into your own hand as you gasped and moaned out. Core clenching around your fingers, squeezing them as if they were desperate for the come of his cock. You rolled over, so you were laying face down in the bed. Your hips angled, taking your fingers down to the knuckle and humping them until you fell into the dreamy haze of your release. It left you dazed, so ready for sleep, as you lay there staring at your phone, panting. 

The air was silent for a long time, nothing heard but your own breathing as you calmed. It was a silence that lulled you close and closer to sleep, and Brady must have known it. “Are you going to sleep now, Sissy?”

“Yeah,” you nodded. 

“Good girl, get cleaned up and rest. I’ll check on you tomorrow, okay?”

You hummed out in approval, “okay, night Brady.”

“Night.”

The line cut, leaving you in the silence alone with nothing but the weight of what just had happened. It should have bothered you, you knew it should. Instead, you were calm as you rolled out of bed and stepped out of your wet panties. Abandoned on the floor, you left them there as you reached for the makeup wipes you kept on your bedside table. The cold wipe was a shock to your skin as you wiped your hand clean and then used another to clean up the inside of your thighs. A proper shower could wait until morning. 

Clean, or rather clean enough, you crawled back into bed and pulled up the covers only to get him in the face with your phone that had become lost in the mess of your blankets. You let out a low curse as you pushed the covers off to climb out of bed once more to plug in your phone. Blocking your path were your panties, and your heart raced as a mischievous ideal struck you. The idea had you regretting taking them off so quickly, but it was nothing another makeup wipe wouldn’t fix. 

You stepped into your panties and pulled them back up again. Then, you propped up your phone on your desk so that the camera focused on the space between your hips and your mid thighs. When you pressed record, you took a half step back and hooked your thumbs on each side of your panties. You dragged them down slowly, your legs spread just wide enough for the camera to capture your arousal as it webbed and beaded as you peeled your panties from your body. You dragged them down your leg, leaving wet trails down the inside of your thighs until you stood there naked from the waist down in front of the camera. 

You were giddy when you stopped the footage, your cheeks flushed as you sent it off to Brady with no shame. It gave him something to wake up to in the morning. A little reminder of what just had happened, and how your body responded to his words and his guidance. It was fun, though the only person you would ever admit that to was yourself. Not even Brady could know. Not when you were sure he would wake up in the morning with your little gift and be hit hard with the reality of the situation. That one picture accidentally sent to him spiraled further than you both should have let it. 

And as you crawled back into bed, you kept telling yourself: It was just a picture. It was just a phone call. What you did wasn’t wrong. It was a happy little accident, something that only happened one time, and you told yourself it wouldn’t happen again. That was until you woke up the next morning and found a text message from Brady on your phone. 

You hadn’t even left your bed yet when you opened it. Your own video met with his own, one that you could hear your own moans in the background of. While you had been riding your own three fingers, Brady had been thrusting into his hand and was capturing it all on camera. It was a video you were sure he was saving for himself. A dirty little secret he would watch when he wanted to remember what you sounded like when you came. But it was more than that now that he sent to you. Because it wasn’t just a recording of the soft sounds you made, it was also a video of how Brady let out a sigh that you didn’t remember hearing. A video of how his cock twitched and throbbed as it was so close to release–and how he sighed out your name as he shot thick webs of his release up over his toned abs before the phone dropped and the screen went black. It was the video that put everything in perspective. Together you and your stepbrother had created a fucked up little fantasy, and while it was wrong, you didn’t want to stop.

TAGLIST: @mp0625 , @wingedwheelprxncess , @kurlyteuvoteu , @couldawouldashoulda50

[a1ecmcdowell]

( AFTERCARE ) . . .ㅤㅤTHREE !!

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ─ ㅤㅤㅤㅤTHE new rock band in town has some nerve, causing mayhem in the venue next to your studio every night. but how do you stay MAD at the lead singer when he looks at you like that ?

PART TWO. half - past five !ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤMINORS DNI!! includes, fictional locations. fictional bandmates. weed mentions ( brief ). semi-public fingering. finger sucking. praise if u squint & minor degradation if u don't. jensen is wearing rings (that's it that's the whole warning and it's necessary). reminder that this is a slowburn!!

parts will get longer, probably, as relationship develops.

ㅤㅤㅤ─ word count: 3.6k

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤprev partㅤㅤㅤ.ㅤㅤㅤmasterlistㅤㅤㅤ.ㅤㅤㅤnext partㅤㅤㅤ.

ㅤㅤA/N. me calling it a slowburn vs them getting raunchy in chap 3 i am A LIARRRR. I STILL SAY IT'S A SLOWBURN ... IT'S NOT ALL SUNSHINE N RAINBOWS ... also what did i say huh. parts wld get longer! almost double last one! i got carried away aftercare!jensen is jus really sexy ok leave me alone.

mirrored glass shakes against the dance studio’s walls, making your reflection warble along with it. one of the mirrors is significantly looser where it’s pressed to the wall, and you just wait for it to fall, because it wants to, doesn’t it? why doesn’t it just give in? 

there’s some pent up frustration in you. clearly. the person —  well, the main one contributing to the literal and metaphorical walls in your life starting to crumble — responsible is just thirty or so steps away. and, of course you’d know that exactly, wouldn’t you? 

you’ve been pacing since you showed up. first outside of the building, when you saw the sunset blvd sign hung up and alight in one of the dingy windows of the venue. it was like a physical sign, really, that jensen was there to stay. much to your chagrin. 

even the instructor at the studio, lindsey, had something to say about your fidgeting. you’d gotten out of class early that day, and what better way to relieve your stress than to go over routines you knew in your sleep? 

except you couldn’t. at least one step in every song you tried to practice, you stumbled on, and with each song you tried again and again, you messed up more, like giving the thought of your failures any attention was exactly what they wanted to burrow in your bones. 

that’s when lindsey, who’d been cleaning off the mirrors in preparation for her upcoming class, said something. “laurel hit you with a hard routine?” 

“no,” you snap without meaning to, guilt washing itself over you the moment the words leave your mouth. she was innocent in your little problems. “just— thinking too much.” 

“i’d argue that the point of dancing is to stop you from thinking.” 

and she was so right that you could have cried. it was infuriating, knowing your problems and what was causing them, and being completely incapable of doing something to stop them. 

you didn’t answer her; nothing productive would come from this conversation when you were too in your head to see outside of your thick skull. instead, you snatched up your phone and clicked play on the sleeping beauty track you’d been working on. 

“why are the mirrors so loose?” lindsey asked, then, incredulity laced in her words, and that was what started your pacing. 

you’d take fifteen of the thirty seven steps from the inside of destiny dance to sunset blvd, and turn back. rinse, repeat. sometimes more than fifteen. most times less. it was so stupid, wanting to pick this fight, knowing it wouldn’t go anywhere. 

but you were at your wit’s end. and maybe, just maybe, you’d started to miss those piercing green eyes that watched you from outside of the venue next door while you practiced. 

masochism is a hell of a thing. 

you don’t even know what caused the breaking point to hit you, but it did, probably an hour into your relentless back and forth with yourself. and suddenly, you were pushing open the glass doors to sunset blvd.

for once, it’s dead silent. but you know that they’re all here, all four members of whatever-the-hell band, whatever-the-hell their names were. the parking lot had four cars in it.

it’s easier like this — empty stage, empty seats — to stomp your aggravated little ass up to the side of the stage. there’s a couple of steep steps leading up to the stage, and your steps echo on the hollow wood of each. 

your hand closes around the tall, dusty curtain leading backstage, when someone else shoves it back fiercely with all of the confidence of someone who thinks they’re alone. 

you jump, but the person screams. a high, piercing scream that echoes around the ( admittedly pretty good ) acoustics of the room.

it’s a guy — lanky and tall with long hair to his shoulders. he holds a hand over his chest, knuckles white from how tightly he’s gripping onto the ripped band t-shirt he wears. metallica. at least you’d heard of that one. 

“jesus christ,” he wheezes out, and you can’t help the way your eyes drop to the blunt in his fingers at his side. surely smoking weed wasn’t good for him. 

you keep that to yourself, though. you did just scare the life out of him, after all. “where is everyone?” 

he blinks a couple of times, and you visibly watch his eyes focus on your face. recognition flares in his deep brown eyes. “our local little dancer, here to grace us again.” 

you roll your eyes. “i have a name—” 

“yeah, yeah, but you never asked for mine, so i’m sure as shit not asking for yours.” he raises the blunt to his parted lips, sucking in a deep inhale. he says, around the exhale of smoke he releases, “reggie, by the way.” 

oh. this was reggie. the little pissant that tried to blow your eardrums when you first showed up here. last time you saw him, you didn’t pay much attention to him. 

you still weren’t going to, unfortunately for him and the way his mouth opens to keep talking to you. 

“guess we’re even.”

reggie grimaces and at least has the decency to look apologetic. you take a step forward to pull the curtain back again and step backstage when he speaks again.

“noa’s in the ladies room. steven’s in the men’s, with—” 

jensen. god, what the hell was wrong with you? there was no reason for your heart to stutter at the sheer thought of him. 

this was your problem, after all — the one buried beneath the ones that you tried to claim as your problems instead: you wanted to see him. he hadn’t been outside consistently, not even when you were leaving. there were a couple of days in that week where you didn’t see him, only knew he was there at all by the number of cars in the back parking lot. 

you say a quick thank you before you finally do step underneath the lifted edge of the heavy curtain, a puff of dust clouding in your lungs the moment you let go of it. 

you break into a ticklish cough as it coats your tongue and the inside of your mouth, too focused on trying to catch your breath again to pay attention to where you’re walking. 

“what, you take a hit of reggie’s blunt but not mine?” he says, his voice still as deep as you remember, smile just as chastising. “didn’t know you were into scrawny guys. never stood a chance, did i?” 

then, and only then, do you manage to shoot a glare up at him. and of course, jensen is smirking, dimples embedded in his cheeks, eyes practically glimmering with the taunt. 

no— they were really glimmering. the green was so much more pronounced today, with the whites of his eyes stained pink. oh, hell. 

“it’s dust.” 

jensen whistles lowly under his breath, leaning back in a mock gesture of surrender, before he settles back fully on his feet. “yyyeeah, reggie’s shit is shit.” 

“no—” your face flushes, both with a twinge of embarrassment and irritation. “i mean, it’s literally— like, it’s literally dust. this place is covered in dust.” 

jensen laughs, loudly and heartily, and it makes your toes curl in your pointe shoes. you really were a wreck; reduced to rubble by this man whose sole purpose, it seemed, was to get on your last nerves.

“s’what happens in abandoned places, princess,” he says slowly and drawn out, like he was talking to a toddler. you bristle at it, nose twitching, and that only makes him laugh a bit harder. “oh, come on. thought we were friends now.” 

your mouth closes, then opens, and closes all over again. friends. you certainly weren’t aware of when that happened, especially since— 

“you haven’t been outside in three days.” god, could your voice sound any smaller? your face flames with embarrassment, not having wanted that to be the thing you say to him in response, but what could you do now? 

jensen’s smile softens. softens! as if you could feel any less mortified. “my pretty princess is missing me, is she?” 

“oh, go to—” 

“hell?” he finishes, eyebrows shooting up as the word leaves his mouth. “only if you come on down with me.” 

you can’t even bristle again before he’s crowding your space. one step forward from him, and two steps back from you. it’s not a very wide hallway, though, and before you knew it, you were trapped.

trapped in the cage of his strong arms, back to the brick wall. this close, you can see the swirls of ink adorning his skin, black wisps of fire and symbols that you don’t know. his hands come up to properly cage you in; palms flat on the wall by your head. 

“you want to, don’t you?” he murmurs, his gaze dropped to your lips. everywhere his eyes land, your skin burns. he’s fire, and you’re ice, and you’re completely molten, melted at his feet. “c’mon, princess,” he says just as softly, “tell me what you want.” 

the words to leave are right there on your tongue. they’re right there, heavy and palpable, and yet they don’t leave the confines of your closed lips. 

jensen’s smile widens, becoming more devilish than sweet. his breath reeks of alcohol and weed this close, but there’s the faintest underlining of mint. your senses are turned up too high to handle this properly — and he can tell. “oh, i see,” his voice is so deep and rough that it makes your skin tremble, “my pretty girl wants me to show her, does she?” 

no, you try to say, but it’s stuck just like the rest of your protests, right there behind your teeth. if only you had the strength to lift your arms and tug your jaw open, to force the words out, because suddenly your head is nodding. 

“good girl,” he says, and one of his hands slips from the wall to your chin, index and thumb holding it between his fingers as he tilts it up to meet your eyes. “but i’m sure you’re used to hearing that, aren’t you?” 

his voice is soft and rough at once, like he’s sharing painful secrets right in her ear. his tone, though, is full of a venom that you don’t want to think about. shame is already so thick on your skin that it feels like paint; the last thing you want is to let his chastising words get to you just as much as your desire for him. 

“pretty,” jensen continues as his hand slips lower, running over the thin fabric of your leotard. it’s innocent at first, the backs of his fingers running down your shoulder. still, it lights you up as if he’d just kissed you. “good. innocent.” 

his hand slips further down, his ring-adorned knuckles tracing over your breasts. they peak beneath that little brush of a touch, nipples aching against the skin-tight of the leotard. 

“i was sure that even good girls get tired of being good,” he mumbles, his face inching closer to yours, nose to nose. “but then i met you, and you just can’t help it, can you? that incessant need to be good?”

jensen’s head drops into the crook of your neck, his facial hair on your sensitive skin making your breath hitch. his laugh is breathless in your ear, against your shoulder, as he presses his lips on the space above your collarbone. 

and his hand keeps moving. it outlines a straight line down the center of your breasts, down your sternum, and stops just below your navel. 

“or maybe…” he trails off, his other hand dropping from the wall and grasping at your skirt, tugging it up in one quick movement. it draws a shuddering gasp from your parted, dry lips, another thing that makes him chuckle. “maybe you do it because you like it. is that it, princess?” 

you can’t even bring yourself to answer him. your skin feels hot and alive, like electricity dances through your veins. livewires sparking beneath the surface of your skin. 

your hands, though, reach for the leather flaps of the jacket on his shoulders. you need something to touch to keep you from slipping too far into the abyss of this. 

his fingertips brush across the thin strap of fabric covering your throbbing, sensitive pussy, the heat in your lower stomach burning and crackling and tight. you can feel the edges of his fingertips grazing the edge of the inseam of the leotard. “yeah, i thought that was it,” he rasps, another of those breathless laughs pressing into your collarbone, “of course the good girl likes to be told she’s a good girl.” 

one of his hands still holds the edge of your skirt up, and the other sweeps the thin fabric away, letting cool air dance across your exposed, slick cunt. 

your mouth finally finds the words it wants to say, and they stumble out in a quick succession, an unintelligible sentence. “jensen— there… people—” 

“reg is off his ass,” he mutters, his mouth still grazing and nipping at the sensitive skin of your collarbone, “steven’s in the fuckin’ bathroom doin’ lines still, and noa’s probably in the bathroom doin’ him.” 

his eyes flick up to meet yours, the green now just a thin ring around the deep intensity of his pupils. “no people around, pretty princess,” he assures, his lips curling into that teasing smile of his — though now, it’s much softer. 

you barely get a chance to acknowledge any of his words before his calloused thumb slips between the slick folds of your pussy. you stutter out a gasp as the electricity of his touch travels your lower stomach and up, up, up, sending your heartrate fluttering quicker.

jensen massages the sensitive, swollen nub of your clit, his eyes locked onto yours, gauging your reaction to his painstakingly slow circles. his teeth hold his bottom lip captive between them. somehow, his eyes look even more blown now that your gazes are locked. 

you try, you do, and it’s an honorable effort, to keep any sound from slipping out of your lips in response to the tantalizing grazes of his hand between your legs. but a muffled whimper starts low in your throat and shudders out, and it’s enough to encourage him to keep going. 

“little louder, baby, i can’t hear you,” he whispers with his nose pressed against yours. he uncurls his fingers, letting you feel every brush of his fingertips as they drag across the expanse of your spread pussy. “i know it feels good, baby, can feel how fucking wet you are.” 

it’s cruel, the way he can touch you like this and say such things about it, while you’re completely spread out for him and at his mercy. “fuck you,” you seethe through your teeth, though it holds none of the malice you wish it did — instead coming out like a whimpering whine. 

“uh uh, not yet,” he laughs breathlessly across your face, and his long middle finger stops at the dip of your entrance, traces the wetness dripping from it, smears it further up your spread pussy. “you’re not ready for that yet, pretty girl. and i wanna make you feel good. don’t you want it to feel good? when you do get to have me?” 

he talks to you like you’re something innocent, something he’s more than happy to break and ruin. chastising and seductive all in the same breath. jensen doesn’t even give you the time to answer before he pushes that same finger inside of you. 

he’s wearing a ring. you didn’t even see the ring when you were talking to him — admittedly, you were only looking at his swollen lips, darkened eyes, sweaty hair hanging just below his ears. but you felt it now; his already thick finger stretches you out, and the ring adds to it the moment he’s deep enough inside of you. 

it’s a shockwave of pleasure all at once. you don’t even try to stifle the moan this time, your head falling forward to knock against his. “there she is,” he praises, his voice much deeper and raspier than it was moments before. “i knew you had it in you.” 

that’s when he starts to move. it’s still only that one finger pushed to the hilt of his hand inside of you, but the ring scrapes the edges of your walls with every thrust he pushes it into you. the pace is slow, deep, like he was making love to you with nothing but his hand. 

of course he wasn’t, though. jensen didn’t seem like the type to make love, and the point is proven when his fingers curl, and stars erupt in your vision. 

“god,” you choke on the word, gasping and panting on his face, your breaths mingling with how close you are. 

jensen grins. he’s always fucking grinning, like he knows exactly the effect he has on the people he touches. “mmm, close, but not my name.” 

“go — to hell.” 

he pumps his finger in and out of your soaked pussy, so hard that the sound of each wet movement punctuates each moan you loosen. “told you already,” he grunts, pulling his ringed finger out of you just enough to where you can only feel the tip of it teasing your stretched entrance. “not without you.” 

there’s never any warning with him, never any indication of what he’s going to do before he’s already knuckles deep into it. and he adds a second finger, another ring adorning it, and pumps the both of his fingers deep into your pussy. 

it’s too much all at once. the feeling of his fingers curling inside of you like quotation marks to each of his thrusts, the fact that there were three people scattered around the rest of the small building, potentially seconds from walking out into the hall and seeing the debauchery he was inflicting on you— 

you hook your leg up and curl it around his waist, giving him a better angle to keep fingerfucking you, and for you to be able to take him deeper, harder, faster—

the invitation isn’t lost on jensen, either. the hand that’d been holding your skirt up releases it and hooks under your thigh to keep it held there. “look at you,” he grunts between his clenched teeth, “bein’ so fucking good for me.” 

your throat feels raw from the effort of trying to keep your voice down, trying to keep every single noise clamped behind the barriers of your tight lips. and it’s too much. and you can’t even really think straight, not with the cool metal rings so tantalizing on your inner walls, with his thick fingers so deep you can feel the tips teasing your cervix. 

your lips part on a shuddering moan, finally uncaging the desperate, guttural sounds that’d been building since he started to touch you. the tightness in your lower stomach coils, tighter and tighter; a snake capturing its prey, a girl clenching tightly around the fingers that thrust into her. 

for once, jensen is dead silent, and you really wish he’d talk, even if it was just to continue teasing you, because all you can hear in this hallway is the gushing sound of his fingers in you and your crescendoing moans, and—

your head falls back against the brick wall behind it, the thud hardly registering in your mind as your leg tightens around his waist, as his fingers keep up there relentless pace, as you pulse around his knuckles and against his palm in tune to your heartbeat.

it’s overwhelming, how fast you fall apart right there in his hands. “fuck— jensen—” your body goes still and taut for a second before it goes completely boneless, your face burying in the smoky smelling leather of his jacket. even as your pussy throbs around him, even as you’re still so sensitive that your body is practically trembling, he doesn’t relent. 

not for another ten or so seconds. and you do count, because it starts to feel like a punishment instead of for pleasure, even as you grind your hips down to take him deeper. 

his fingers slip out of you, wet and glistening with your juices. his eyes are somehow more glazed than they were, still rimmed red and glimmery. “open up, princess,” he rasps, the smile on his face more lazy than the smirk he wore earlier. 

who are you to deny him anything right now? you barely know your name, your legs numb, your heart racing from the comedown. 

“good girl,” he praises lowly once your lips pop open again. jensen pushes his wet fingers inside your mouth, pushing down on your tongue to push your mouth open wider. 

tasting yourself around the salty smoke flavor of his fingers is almost enough to make your legs buckle. his eyes watch you intently, glancing between your eyes and your mouth. 

and maybe you are sick of being good. maybe he was right all along, with every word you deemed chastising and prodding. it only takes a blink for you to close your lips around his fingers and swirl your tongue around them in your mouth, around the rings. 

“goddamn,” he chuckles, breathless and exhaling. “maybe you are more fun than you let on.” 

you didn’t know, then, that this was the worst possible thing either of you could do. because now, you knew he’d let you in when you came around, and now he knew how easy you were to break.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤFEEDBACK & REBLOGS APPRECIATED!! < 3

tags! @happyladyduck, @casatoan, @mo0nwalker, @manicjk, @stereotypicalbarbie, @inpraise0fbacchus, @fitxgrld !

[celestiaras]

Ok so, suggestion for something you can write:

Ok so some time ago someone did a post about Noctyx reacting to you being a virgin, and then taking your virginity. How do you think the XSOLEIL boys would react and act during your first time? (My first time sucked so one can indulge a bit in how much better it could have been you know. I bet these boys would be so caring yet so freaky at the same time) I know you technically already did Ver but still-

Love you muah muah

ft. doppio dropscythe, meloco kyoran, hex haywire, kotoka torahime, ver vermillion (separate) x f! reader — xsoleil, nijisanji en

╰₊✧ how xsoleil are when taking your virginity┊0.5k words

contains: smut!! dom xsoleil & sub reader┊loss of virginity, unprotected piv & straps-ons for the girls, written by a virgin

➤ author's note: another short one, i hope to post something longer when my motivation comes back. my depression has kinda hit me again and zapping my energy for anything even though i wanna write sooooo badly (also real life is so busy right now smh)

doppio dropscythe is clumsy. it’s his first time and a bit too excited for his own good, so you’ll need to guide him and be vocal about any possible discomfort. he’ll be the roughest out of the bunch, not intentionally, it’s just in his nature. there will be quite a few bruises and hickeys scattered about your skin, but it’s worth it because, not only is he blessed below the belt and able to fuck you so hard you’ll see stars, but he’s also terrific at aftercare, and will carry you into the bathtub filled with warm water like a princess. he’ll handle you more carefully next time (unless you want him to be just as or even more rough).

meloco kyoran is nervous. it’s probably also her first time too, and her inexperience makes her hesitant because everything she knows was taught by the internet after running away from home. she's asking over and over again if it’s okay, needing assurance that she’s doing a good job and that this is really what you wanted— that you really wanted her. you’ll need to encourage her with your words, help her out by wiggling your hips into hers onto her strap, and pull her down for a kiss when she finally fully sinks into you.

hex haywire is tender. he holds you so close it’s almost suffocating, his arms wrapped around you and his face buried into your shoulder as he presses kisses onto your skin. he’ll wax poetry about how beautiful you look while taking him for the first time, how good you feel clenching around his cock, and how he wishes he’ll be the first and last. you can hardly tell if the heat in your face is from the building pressure in your abdomen or how sexy his deep voice sounds saying all of that, but he’s easily able to tell the effect he has on you.

kotoka torahime is cheeky. she’s all smiles and teases you throughout, making you so flustered you will completely forget about how nervous you were. sometimes it is unintentional like she’ll accidentally say something a little silly and will make you burst out in laughter as she smacks you with threats of not going through with it if you don’t take her seriously (she’s just saying that, of course). both of you are pretty giggly throughout, so drunk in love that the initial penetration isn’t painful in the least bit and skips straight to the pleasure.

ver vermillion is gentle. he puts you first, checking in periodically to make sure you are okay, pausing each time you groan to see if you’re alright, and just being a sweetheart. his kindness is almost to a fault, so much so that you need to beg him to cut to the chase and fuck you already since he’s probably been fingering or eating you out for what feels like forever. he gets carried away in the foreplay because he’s so scared of hurting you, so remind him you aren’t made of glass and will be fine even if he gets a little rough.

[rita-repulsa-ke]

First Meeting

“What’s your name?”

“Rio.”

“You’re gorgeous, you know.”

“I do. I like to hear you say it, though.”

Agatha looked at the bodies around her, then back up at the woman leaning against a tree, toying with a knife and studying her as if she were a tome worth deciphering. She didn’t need to ask if the stranger was a witch or even what her specialty was—one look with the Sight and she could see how strong she was, a column of green and black flame, power such as Agatha had never seen.

So the only real question was whether Agatha would be able take her to bed before she inevitably killed her.

“What’s all this then?” Rio asked, flicking her knife to point at the bodies.

Agatha looked around the clearing, clicked her tongue in dismay, as though she’d only just noticed the desiccated corpses at her feet. “Would you believe I walked up and they were already like this?”

The other woman gave her a toothy smile. “Do you know, I wouldn’t?”

“Then I guess I probably killed them.” Agatha spread her hands, shrugged like ‘what are you going to do’. “Want to get revenge?”

“Hmm. Should I?” Rio strolled out and examined the bodies, poking one with a booted foot.

“Seems like the right call,” Agatha said, arms open, inviting attack. “Sisterhood and all that. Go ahead, give it your best shot.”

Rio burst into high-pitched, grating laughter, annoying to hear but pretty to watch. “Do people actually fall for that? You so clearly want me to blast you!”

“Honestly? All the time,” Agatha said, only a little disappointed. “But then, most people tend to overreact to this sort of thing. You’re taking it very well.”

“I’m used to bodies.”

“Ooooh. Very mysterious.” Agatha sauntered forward, keeping one eye on the knife and the other on Rio, the latter simply because she was great to look at. “I like a little bit of mystery. Keeps me on my toes.”

“I’d prefer to sweep you off your feet.”

Agatha was more and more pleased Rio hadn’t chosen to blast her straight away. This was going to be fun. “Normally, I do the sweeping. For you, I might make an exception.” She wouldn’t, but she knew a challenge when she saw one and she did love a challenge.

Even if the challenge in question had an extraordinarily grating laugh, a shrill shriek of delight. “Oh, Agatha Harkness, you’re going to be fun.”

Agatha went still. “How do you know my name?”

“I know more than that about you. The Salemite coven killer. Matricide. Witch-slayer.”

Agatha didn't react outwardly, except to cross her arms across her chest. "You're very well-informed."

"Well, you've killed a lot of people. That kind of thing gets my attention. And look at you, so much power for a single witch, and all of it stolen."

Agatha couldn't tell if she was being complimented or insulted. "Have a problem with that?"

Rio shook her head. "Not at all. I want you to keep going. I want more bodies. I'm greedy that way."

So the gorgeous green witch was also crazy. That was fine with her, sexy and crazy could be an exciting combination, at least for a while, and after that, well, there was all that glorious power, hers for the taking. "Come with me then," Agatha purred, her voice husky with promise. "I'll get you all the bodies you want."

For a moment, Rio fixed her with a look that speared her in place, a butterfly on corkboard. Her breath caught in her throat in a very literal sense, her lungs frozen in her chest, unable to expand. Something vast and unknowable examined her as she might have examined a particularly interesting bug, right before she crushed it underfoot.

And then Rio looked away and she found herself gasping for air. "Keep talking like that and you really might sweep me off my feet," the other woman said, her hands behind her head, the smile on her lips a bloody gash, a wound in the world.

For a brief moment, Agatha had the sense to be terrified.

Then she simply refused to be. So the other woman had some tricks, that only made her more interesting.

And Agatha had some tricks of her own, especially in this particular game.

She stepped forward, cupped the back of Rio’s neck and pulled her closer, then kissed her, a rapacious, demanding kiss. She knew she was good at it and from the way Rio clutched at her, the other woman agreed, melting as Agatha worked a different kind of magic with teeth and tongue. When Agatha pulled back, she gave Rio the self-assured smile of a witch who had never doubted that she could have anything she wanted, including the woman in front of her. “Watch me,” she said.

Rio swallowed, struck briefly mute, and Agatha was already strolling past. "Come along then, darling," she called without a glance back.

Behind her, Death, the final hour, the last breath, touched her lips, murmured a very quiet 'wow' and trotted after Agatha.

Want to read some of Rio’s thoughts on Agatha? Try the thief

Want to read a post-breakup fic where Agatha tries to pierce the veil between the living and the dead and maybe even succeeds? Try the veil

[redmyeyes]

That's their closing message.

Are you going to vote for a woman whose laugh they don't like? Or are you going to vote for a guy

who fomented a violent coup attempt after a months long campaign to overturn the 2020 election

undercut the nation's response to a deadly pandemic that spiraled out of control because he tried to cover it up,

lied about its severity,

promoted sham treatments for it,

said we could cure it by injecting disinfectant and shining powerful lights inside the body

and became the first president since Herbert Hoover to oversee a net job loss.

Couldn't figure out how to close an umbrella,

cosplayed as a sanitation worker, even though he almost fell while getting into the truck

and pretended to work at McDonald's, even though he couldn't remember what the fryer was called.

Laughed about firing striking workers with the richest man alive,

bragged about refusing to pay overtime

and said I don't want a poor person running the economy.

Oversaw an increase in corporate profits while manufacturing jobs declined,

presided over an unprecedented spike in crime

while home prices rose by 30%,

the national debt rose by $8 trillion

and the number of Americans without health insurance rose by 3 million.

Tried to rip healthcare away from over 20 million Americans,

but reassured everyone by saying he had concepts of a plan,

told a story about the size of a dead golfer's penis,

regaled Boy Scouts with stories of sexy yacht parties,

humped the American flag not once but multiple times,

told women he would protect them whether they liked it or not,

and would put a man who was investigated for cutting the head off a whale with a chainsaw in charge of vaccines and women's health,

insulted service members,

feuded with Gold Star families

and violated federal law by staging a campaign event at a hallowed military cemetery.

Doctored a weather map with a Sharpie to lie about the path of a hurricane,

threw paper towels at hurricane victims,

hosted a speaker at a rally who called Puerto Rico a floating island of garbage,

claimed windmills cause cancer and kill whales,

said you have to flush toilets 15 times.

Called Hannibal Lecter a lovely man,

his National Security Adviser called him a dope,

his Secretary of State called him a moron,

his Chief of Staff called him an idiot and a fascist who said nice things about Hitler and Hitler's generals.

He suggested shooting protesters in the legs to his Secretary of Defense.

He reportedly suggested executing rivals and staffers for leaking information.

The former chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff called him a fascist to the core.

He took millions from foreign officials,

including a possible $10 million bribe from Egypt.

His lawyers gave a press conference at a landscaping company.

He lost the popular vote twice,

got impeached twice,

got indicted four times

and was found guilty of 34 felony counts for falsifying business records to pay hush money to a porn star.

He asked a crowd whether they'd rather be electrocuted or eaten by a shark,

he possibly farted and definitely fell asleep in court.

Bragged about overturning Roe v. Wade,

called himself the father of IVF while admitting he didn't know what IVF was,

called the CEO of Apple Tim Apple,

misspelled his wife's name

and his own name,

said Nikki Haley was the Speaker of the House on January 6th.

Claimed the price of bacon goes up because the wind doesn't blow.

Got on Air Force One with toilet paper stuck to his shoe,

became the first president in history to stare directly at an eclipse,

melted down in a presidential debate

where he claimed migrants were eating dogs,

spread lies about the federal government's response to a hurricane that caused FEMA workers to relocate due to threats.

Dances like he's punching a ghost,

held a hate-filled rally at Madison Square Garden,

stole classified documents,

obstructed attempts to get them back,

called climate change a hoax,

proposed tariffs that economists say would increase prices and crater the economy,

halted an equal pay rule for women,

curtailed access to birth control,

picked a running mate who mocked childless cat ladies

and creeped out everyone when he tried to order donuts

and was accused of having sex with a couch,

which he did not do even though he might have.

But he didn't,

but maybe he did.

But he definitely did not. [shrugs]

Said Kamala Harris happened to turn Black,

claimed his crowd on January 6th was bigger than Martin Luther King's I Have a Dream speech,

was banned from doing business in the state of New York for three years,

just recently posed for the single worst photo of any human being that has ever been taken on the face of the fucking planet.

So, you know, it's a toss up.