#just little things. little affections. no i will not be elaborating on whether or not hiro is buttoning or unbuttoning zeus' shirt

[mcl-mia]

god, i want a secret life where you and i can get bored out of our minds

(//zeus week day 4 - affection)

[m4rv3l-girl]

Happens to the best of us

Bucky x Y/N

Bucky wants babies.

Requests Open!

Warnings: implied smut

Bucky couldn’t help but stare.

He leaned against the kitchen counter of the compound, arms crossed, sipping at a beer that had long since gone warm. The raucous sounds of the Avengers’ party filled the air—laughter, music, the occasional clang of plates or bottles—but all of it was background noise to him. His gaze was locked on you, on Y/N, across the room, sitting on the floor in the living room.

Morgan Stark was giggling loudly, hands waving excitedly as Y/N built an elaborate tower of colorful blocks, her soft voice guiding the girl through every step of the process. “And look! If we put this one right here—” Y/N placed the final block delicately at the top, balancing it with a careful touch. “—we’ve got ourselves a masterpiece.”

Morgan gasped dramatically, her eyes going wide as she clapped her hands together. “It’s so tall! It’s the biggest tower ever!”

Y/N beamed at the little girl, the expression so full of warmth and love that Bucky felt his chest tighten. Morgan clambered into her lap, curling into her with a sense of trust and affection that made something primal stir deep within him.

He couldn’t stop thinking about how natural it looked—how easy, how right. You and a little one.

The thought had been poking at the edges of his mind all evening, ever since you’d arrived at the party.

You’d barely left Morgan’s side, whether it was helping her sneak extra desserts from the snack table (something that got you both a stern but fond look from Pepper) or carrying her around on your shoulders as she pretended to fly like Iron Man. And the whole time, Bucky watched. Watched the way you moved, the way you interacted, how effortlessly you handled every tantrum, every sugar-fueled burst of energy.

It made his heart ache—in the best possible way.

“Buck, you good?”

Sam’s voice pulled him out of his trance. Bucky blinked, realizing his friend was standing beside him now, raising an eyebrow as he leaned casually against the counter.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” Bucky muttered, tearing his eyes away from you to focus on the beer in his hand.

Sam chuckled. “You’ve been staring at Y/N for the past hour, man. You sure you’re fine?”

Bucky rolled his eyes, but the smile tugging at his lips betrayed him. He tried to play it off, taking another sip of the lukewarm beer. “Just…admiring the view, I guess.”

“Uh-huh,” Sam smirked. “Sure. You’ve got that look, man.”

“What look?”

“That look. The ‘I’m head-over-heels, wrapped-around-her-finger, ready-to-settle-down’ look.” Sam bumped his shoulder against Bucky’s, chuckling when the ex-assassin groaned in response. “Don’t worry, old man. Happens to the best of us.”

Bucky shot him a glare, but the playful tone in Sam’s voice made it hard to be annoyed. Instead, he just grunted and turned his attention back to you, heart clenching as Morgan cuddled closer into your arms.

“I’m serious, man,” Sam continued, softer now. “You look like you’re thinking about something pretty heavy over there.”

Bucky didn’t respond, but he didn’t need to. Sam wasn’t wrong.

The night went on, and Bucky stayed mostly quiet, content to let the party swirl around him. Occasionally, you’d glance his way, sending him a bright smile before returning to your playful antics with Morgan. Each time, his heart skipped a beat.

By the time the party began winding down, the kids—especially Morgan—were wiped out, and the Avengers slowly started to trickle out of the compound. You helped Pepper and Tony gather Morgan’s things, giving the little girl a tight hug before bidding the Starks goodnight.

When you finally returned to Bucky’s side, you looked a little tired but completely content. “Ready to go home, doll?” he asked, his voice soft as his hand instinctively found the small of your back.

“Yeah, I think I’m done for the night,” you replied with a sleepy smile, leaning into his touch. “It was fun, though. Morgan’s a little firecracker.”

“Yeah, I noticed,” Bucky chuckled, but his mind was still swirling with thoughts, images of you and Morgan together playing over and over in his head. “You were great with her.”

You shrugged, brushing it off like it was no big deal, but Bucky could see the faint blush coloring your cheeks. “She’s a sweetheart. Honestly, I love kids. They’re fun.”

Love kids. The words echoed in his mind, sending a jolt of warmth through him that he tried to ignore for the moment.

The car ride home was mostly quiet, save for the low hum of the radio in the background. You rested your head against the window, eyes half-closed, while Bucky kept one hand on the wheel and the other loosely intertwined with yours on the center console. It felt…peaceful. Comfortable. Yet, underneath it all, there was this tension building inside him, an unspoken desire simmering just below the surface.

He didn’t know how to bring it up, didn’t know how to start that conversation. But the more he thought about it, the more he realized it wasn’t something he could just push aside. Not anymore.

When you got home, you kicked off your shoes and wandered into the living room, stretching your arms above your head with a satisfied groan. “That was a good night,” you said, smiling over your shoulder at him as you began to pull off your jacket.

Bucky followed behind you, his gaze trailing the curve of your spine as you moved. He felt the heat in his chest grow stronger, something heavier, more intense than he’d expected. His mind kept drifting back to the party, to you and Morgan, to the idea that had been slowly taking root in his brain all night.

It didn’t take long for you to notice the shift in his mood. You turned to face him, frowning slightly as you tossed your jacket onto the back of the couch. “You’ve been quiet since we left the party. What’s going on in that head of yours?”

Bucky hesitated, his mouth opening and closing a few times as he tried to find the right words. But he couldn’t. So instead, he took a deep breath and stepped closer, wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you flush against his chest. “Just thinking, doll,” he murmured, his voice low as he pressed a kiss to the top of your head. “That’s all.”

“Uh-huh.” You raised an eyebrow, clearly unconvinced. You reached up, cupping his face in your hands as you searched his eyes. “You’ve been weird ever since we left the party. Tell me what’s going on.”

Bucky sighed, his heart pounding in his chest. There was no escaping this now. He might as well just say it. “It’s just…watching you with Morgan tonight,” he began, his voice soft, almost unsure. “You were amazing with her. It made me think about…about us. About our future.”

Your brow furrowed in confusion for a moment, but then realization dawned on you, your eyes widening slightly. “Our future?” you echoed, your voice just above a whisper. “You mean…?”

“Yeah,” Bucky nodded, his hands tightening on your waist. “I mean…a family. Kids. I haven’t been able to stop thinking about it.”

You stared at him for a moment, processing his words. Then, slowly, a smile tugged at the corners of your lips. “Bucky Barnes, are you telling me you’ve got baby fever?”

He groaned, his face flushing with embarrassment as he buried it in the crook of your neck. “Don’t make fun of me, kitten,” he mumbled, his voice muffled against your skin.

You laughed softly, running your fingers through his hair as you tilted your head back to give him better access to your neck. “I’m not making fun of you. I just didn’t think I’d ever hear those words come out of your mouth.”

Bucky pulled back just enough to meet your gaze, his expression serious now. “I’m not saying we have to do anything about it too soon if you don’t want to. But…I’ve been thinking about it a lot lately. Seeing you with Morgan tonight…it made me realize how much I want that. With you.”

Your heart swelled at his words, your smile softening as you wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled him down for a kiss. It was slow, tender, full of love and unspoken promises. When you finally pulled away, you rested your forehead against his, your voice barely above a whisper. “I want that too, Bucky.”

The way he looked at you then—like you were his whole world, his future, his everything—it sent a shiver down your spine. He leaned in, his lips brushing against your ear as he whispered, “You’d make such a good mommy, doll. I could see it tonight.”

You felt the heat rising in your cheeks, your heart racing as his words stirred something deep inside you. “And you’d be an amazing daddy,” you replied, your voice laced with mischief. “I know it.”

His grip on your waist tightened, his breath hot against your skin as he kissed along your jawline, his lips trailing down to your neck. “You think so?”

“Yup, the best,” you whispered, your hands tangling in his hair as he pressed his body closer to yours, the heat between you building with each passing.

“Doll?” He mumbled into your neck. The warmth of his breath raising goosebumps on your neck.

“Hm?”

“Can I put a baby in you?”

You brain stopped function for a fraction of a second and the air midway up your throat disappeared. “I…Right now?” You asked with a hint of disbelieving laughter.

“Yeah. Right now.” With a firm nod, his metal hand squeezed at the flesh of your ass, which happened to be one of his favorite things to play with.

“Can’t wait until you’re bigger, just swollen with my kids…” The words alone made him shiver. The thought of you sitting there, belly round and full of the babies he put in there, breasts growing and tender, filled with milk for his children. That was hot. It was making a familiar tingle slither across his chest and downwards.

“So? Can I?” He inquired, rather impatiently.

“Uh, yeah-..I…okay.” You nod. Still in shock that this was even happening.

“Don’t sound very sure.” Tightening his grip, he pushes you closer to him and you can feel the bulge in his pants pressing against your core, the small ball of tension forming right under his crotch.

“Yes. Yes, put a baby in me, now.”

“Say please, Doll.”

…………………………………………………………………………………..…………...………..

Part 2…? 🤨

Part 2 is now out!

[arcaneauthor]

Cute things Bang Chan does as your bf

Pairing: Bang Chan x Reader

Author’s note: Just something sweet and simple to get my creative writing juices flowing again. Lmk which member you’d like me to do next!

Warnings: none? Mentioned neck kiss, Just pure fluff really

Tags: established relationship, fluffity fluff, Chan being absolutely adorable bf material

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

Pulls you into his lap while he works on music, head layed on your shoulder giving you periodic sweet neck kisses.

Always turns music on while the two of you cook cause he likes how intimate it feels to just laugh and dance around the kitchen with you

When you two go out he always either has ahold of your hand or guides you with a hand on your lower back especially in big crowds just to make sure your safe (also partly because he just likes having physical contact with you at anytime he can)

Back hugs 24/7. I mean he’s literally hanging off of you like a koala any chance he gets.

Will purposefully leave his hoodies lying around your place for you to find and wear, not to have some kind of stupid “claim” over you but just because he thinks you look extremely cute in his over sized clothes and plus he knows you like wearing them so

Has a secret little album of songs he’s made just for you (though his ears are bright red when he first shows them to you cause he’s afraid you’ll think it’s stupid or cringey)

Loves giving physical affection but if you give it to him it’s gonna embarrass the hell out of him. Not to say he doesn’t like it, he loves it, but we’re talking about face flaming, head ducked, face covered. Especially if it’s with other people around.

On the topic of physical affection, he will always either hold your hand or have a hand on your thigh while driving

This man can not take a compliment but he sure as heck can give one. he’s literally got something nice to say about you 24/7, no matter what. “You look really nice today” “Chris I’m literally still in my pajamas”

If you’re the same height or taller than him (which I am) he’ll constantly be joking around by getting on his tiptoes around you to make him the same height/taller. Especially in photos.

No matter how tired he is from work he’ll always make time for you. Whether that be planning elaborate dates or just taking the time to watch a movie with you. It doesn’t matter how big it is as long as you’re doing it together. “Chan it’s okay just go to sleep you’re tired.” “No no, I’m fine. I can make it through one movie” and then he ends up falling asleep before the movies even halfway finished

We all know Chris loves him some bracelets so he’s definitely buying you matching ones

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

End notes: I promise I’ll write an actual story one day lol

[thehandsresisthim]

“BDSM headcanons - Simon “Ghost” Riley”

contains: discussion of bdsm, dom/sub relationship, sub!ghost, dom!fem!reader

word count: ~600

brat or obedient?

⋆｡♡ ˚ Simon is the utter opposite of a brat

⋆｡♡ ˚ although he might whimper occasionally or whine, he always, always listens

⋆｡♡ ˚ at first, it might creep you out a little; you’ll be just sitting down as you start the scene and he’s kneeling on the carpet, gorgeous brown eyes looking at you with affection, his hands on his thighs, waiting patiently for your instructions. no impatience, no begging, no pleading - just patience and obedience.

⋆｡♡ ˚ you could probably leave him sitting like this for an entire hour, and still, he would love it - Simon can’t imagine anything more fulfilling than obeying your commands.

⋆｡♡ ˚ as I said, he has no interest in bratting - trying to provoke you into punishing him (harder) would be to go against your decisions. and Simon would never go against your decisions during play.

kinks and limits:

⋆｡♡ ˚ I think that he has a keen interest in the more, uh, ‘traditional’ approach to femdom.

⋆｡♡ ˚ although he wants you to be comfortable, he can’t deny that seeing a woman - his woman - in a leather corset and heavy boots (that you just might use to put him in his place) and everything gets him going.

⋆｡♡ ˚ Simon is very much not opposed to pain. When it’s you who is dishing it out, of course.

⋆｡♡ ˚ he is a man who appreciates being hit with a paddle, or a cane - whatever you like. ideally, tie his hands up with a rope and have a hook on the ceiling prepared to tie the end of the rope to, forcing him to stay in place. he’ll whine and moan with each hit.

⋆｡♡ ˚ also, speaking of the more extreme side of femdom… yeah, he likes a bit of cbt. feel free to get out the humbler.

⋆｡♡ ˚ another thing he likes is edging. still, he won’t beg - if Mistress/Goddess/Queen decides that he’s not cumming yet, he just isn’t - but he will writhe and shake and cry. opposite of that - overstimulation. that, he loves too.

⋆｡♡ ˚ but, fundamentally, he cares about pleasing you. whether that means orally pleasuring you or moaning for you as you go about spanking him - as long as he knows that he’s being obedient and doing what you want, Simon is content.

⋆｡♡ ˚ Still, he has a few limits; these include:

-> puppy play (it just makes him feel weird. he’s a Queen’s dutiful servant, or his Goddess’s faithful subject. he’s not your dog - he doesn’t have to be taught to obey you. he’s already loyal, isn’t he? loyal and well behaved.),

-> long-term chastity (as in, wearing a chastity cage - it just doesn’t do anything for him. he’s not a brat, and if you tell him not to touch himself, he won’t. there’s no need for a cage, in his fantasy)

-> being degraded (again, this plays into his desire to be your obedient servant/subject/sub in general - he wants to serve you, endure pain for you or pleasure you. he doesn’t want to be seen as bad)

aftercare:

⋆｡♡ ˚ outside of caring for any physical ailments (like markings from you using a paddle, or a sore ass from being spanked), Simon has a great need for physical proximity to you after a scene. Since they are highly emotional to him, he often doesn’t speak a lot afterwards, but doing anything that includes you touching him is good for him.

⋆｡♡ ˚ if you do something more elaborate like giving him a massage, or just let him rest on top of you - he’s content as long as you keep him close.

⋆｡♡ ˚ Simon usually doesn’t give feedback on the scene as soon as it’s over. he just wants to be held and loved after.

⋆｡♡ ˚ most often, he gives you feedback on the scene the next day. he likes talking about it; your play strengthens your bond, your relationship, and talking about it enables him to ask for more, or to suggest other fantasies, and to make sure that you’re also comfortable being his domme.

thank you reading! for more fics, check out my master list ❤️

soap version is here :)

a small headcanon + drabble abt reader domming both simon and johnny simultaneously is here :)

[florencebirdsong]

More Than Duty

Agatha Harkness x Reader

Agatha All Along Week 2024 - Day 6

summary: you were given leave to choose your own bride until Agatha Harkness came along. Charmed and lured in by her promises of power, your King Father declared you were to be wed. Now, it's your wedding night and certain duties must be upheld.

Set in a world where one can get pregnant from a cum strap

tags: arranged marriage au, virgin reader, strap-on, breeding kink, fingering (r receiving), marking, pet names - princess & good girl, strap referred to as cock once, doggy style 

authors note: you're getting the largely unedited version for a little because if I have to read this one more time I'm going to despise it forever

Also don’t question the time I’m posting this I once again thought I only needed to write 100-200 more but it was actually OVER A THOUSAND. WHY DO I KEEP DOING THIS. Ahem. Anyway, here’s day six which is almost three times as long as the others.

Reader is referred to as princess multiple times, mentioned royal wedding dress, specified looking for a bride, described as wearing a plain night shift.

ao3 | masterlist

“I know this isn’t exactly what you had in mind, dear. But there’s no reason not to enjoy ourselves tonight.”

Your hands twist nervously in your simple shift. Your wedding dress had been elaborate. It needed more than one person to get you out of it. Which is not ideal for a wedding night.

You hadn’t had this in mind, exactly. You’d thought you had convinced your father to let you choose your own bride, as long as she met a few of his somewhat reasonable specifications. But then Lady Agatha Harkness had walked into his court. You don’t know whether it was her disarming charm, the power she holds, the boon to the kingdom the exchange would have or his own personal gain but he decided Lady Harkness would be the perfect match for you. He also decided you needed to get married the moment the decision was made. 

Thankfully, a royal wedding took months to prepare and you would have some time to get to know your future bride. Not that you had spent much time with her in the end. Only a few dinners here and there. She’s a busy woman, running her own region which she needed to organise another taking over. She can’t look after it and a whole kingdom, after all. Something she insisted despite your father’s good health. She also spent a lot of time with the court. Learning what her new duties will be and charming her way into their good graces.

It would be unnerving if you weren’t so relieved. One of the suitors your father had originally brought forward had no interest in what her royal duties would have been as Queen. Running a kingdom on your own would have been nothing short of hell.

So, small mercies. 

“Darling,” she says and you try not to startle.

She’s so much closer than before. She cautiously raises a hand to cup your cheek, like you’re a scared animal. You lean into it, eager to soak up any affection she gives you, and her thumb gently brushes over your skin.

“I know you’re nervous but we both have royal duties to attend to.”

You swallow harshly and look down. This is more than duty for you. You’re ashamed to admit you’ve been looking forward to this night. To having Agatha’s sole attention on you. You’ve dreamed about what could happen, what she’ll be like. 

You’ve only been told the very basics. That your wife will enter you with a specially designed device. That it may hurt for a moment but you will feel ‘a pleasure-like feeling’ afterwards. No one would explain exactly what that means. It makes you both more nervous and more excited. The only thing you know about the device is its shape and its intended use. Continuing the royal line.

“I know. It’s just,” you hesitate although Agatha has likely guessed already, “I’ve never done this before.”

“I’m aware,” she says and you flick your eyes up in time to see something flash in her eyes. “I promise to be gentle,” she says softly, a voice you haven’t heard from her before. You gently grasp the wrist of the hand cupping your cheek and nuzzle the hand. “The royal line must continue and it must be of your blood.”

You nod and leave the safety of her caress to cautiously lean closer. She waits for you to come to her and she waits for the first brush of your lips to move. She presses closer and her hands grab your waist and pull you against her. You make a surprised sound and cling to her shoulders for balance. Which you immediately lose as she begins to walk you backwards. The back of your knees hit the bed and she guides you to lay down in the middle of it. It’s hard to notice any of it with the feel of her lips against yours. The way her hands slide along your exposed skin as she leads you doesn’t help. She can’t keep her lips on you the entire time but you don’t mind so much until she pulls away properly. You chase her lips but she stops you with a hand dangerously low on your chest. 

Whatever look you’re giving her makes her eyes darken. One hand travels to the hem of your shift. You grab her wrist without thinking, anxiety rearing its head again. No one has seen you naked like this before. With the intention to- to touch. To feel.

“Let me see you,” she says, her voice firm.

You slowly relax your grip. This is your wife and someone who has shown how eager she is to see you undressed. She isn’t going to laugh or mock you. Your fingers slip from her wrist and she pulls your shift the rest of the way off.

It feels exposing in a way you haven’t felt before. You try to cover yourself instinctively but her hands grab your wrists and holds them down as she has her fill. You squirm but she doesn’t release you. Instead, she leans down and begins to suck deep, purple marks along the curve of your breast. It feels better than you were expecting it to (how can something feel so good when it isn’t down there?) but it doesn’t come close to the feeling of her lips wrapping around the stiff peak of your nipple. You gasp and arch into her. She flicks her tongue and your hand tangles in the thick curls of her hair. She does it again and a small whimper escapes you. You can feel her smile. She begins to trail kisses again and you think she’s going to repeat the same delicious thing until you realise she’s heading down instead of across.

“Wait,” you say, moving your hand to land on her shoulder. She lazily raises her head to look at you.

“Yes, princess?” she says in a tone you don’t have a name for.

It makes something spark between your legs and you determinedly ignore it to be able to speak.

“I want to see you too,” you try to speak as confidently as she did but there’s the tiniest waver to your voice.

She quirks an eyebrow before sitting up, taking her warmth with her. She pulls her own shift off and you think you understand her reaction. She’s beautiful. Your eyes devour every detail from her dark eyes to her pebbled nipples to-

Oh. You stare at it with wide eyes. It had looked so much smaller on the page. 

“Don’t worry, dear. Your body knows what to do.”

She leans back over you and the thing hanging between her thighs nudges your most sensitive spot. She muffles your whimper with a kiss. You cling to her. Excitement and anxiety swirling into a heady mix as she slowly, slowly begins to push inside of you.

“A-Agatha,” you say, your voice high and needy.

Agatha shushes you quietly and continues to slowly push inside of you. Your legs open wider instinctively. It doesn’t help with the stretching feeling. Nor the building tingling sensation. She continues to steadily push inside of you and the slight pain is overshadowed by the feel of her. Her hands tight on your hips, breath hot against your neck, her hips slowly getting closer and closer to yours.

“That’s it. Take it.”

You spread your legs wider, trying to do what she says. You don’t know why she felt the need to say it. You feel so full you can’t do anything but take it.

“Agatha,” you gasp as she bottoms out, nails digging in as you try to ground yourself.

She groans again and her next thrust is harsher than her last one. It forces a whining moan from you as it hits something inside of you that feels so good.

“Knew I had to have this sweet cunt the moment I saw you,” she grunts and settles into a slower, rougher pace. You can’t help the little noise you make every time she bottoms out. “When I found out about this little ritual of yours, I knew I had to fill this sweet cunt.”

Every word builds an unfamiliar fire inside of you. You don’t know what’s happening to you, what she’s doing to you,  but you can feel how big it’s going to be big. The feeling of your pleasure growing as it builds drowns out any worry you may have had. 

You wrap your legs around her waist and pull her tight against you, moaning at how full you feel. It forces Agatha to still.

“Princess,” she says warningly but you don’t care because that thread snaps inside of you.

Pure, unadulterated pleasure flows through you and you’re aware of nothing else.

You come back down to Agatha’s face hovering over yours, eyes devouring your every twitch.

“I- what?” you say, completely at a loss for words.

“You just came dear. And I just came in you,” the look on her face mirrors one of a cat that got the cream.

“You…” you stare up at her with wide eyes as you pulse at those words. “But you didn’t…?” you ask after a moment.

“No,” she confirms and your face drops. Her hand cups your cheek and you lean into the touch. “It’s the best time to do it to get the results we want.”

“R-Right,” you stutter and look away, somehow embarrassed by that while she’s still inside of you.

“But you can make it up to me,” she says and you nod eagerly, missing the darker edge to her pleased smile. She pulls out and you whimper at the sudden empty feeling. Her hands grip your hips again and you squeak as she manhandles you onto your stomach and then onto your knees. You automatically put your hands under you but a hand on the back of your head pushes your front back down. A pillow finds it way under your hips. This is a position you weren’t taught about.

Agatha’s hands run down your sides, over your hips, down your ass and stop at your thighs. Her thumbs gently hook around your inner lips and you whimper quietly at the feeling, especially since it feels like you’re dripping.

“You look so good full of my cum,” she says in a rough voice.

You feel that clenching feeling again and she chuckles lowly. Fingers brush your sensitive entrance and your hips jerk in surprise before needily pressing back against them. They start low and move up before gently pushing into you. Embarrassment flares through you when you realise that dripping feeling wasn’t just a feeling. She doesn’t comment though. Instead, she languidly pumps her fingers in and out of you, seeming content to enjoy the way you squeeze around her.

“Too bad I can’t feel this when filling you,” she sighs. You want to protest, you feel plenty full right now, but you know what she means. The idea of her pushing her strap back into you has you pressing back on her fingers again. “Probably a good thing. I’d never let you leave this bed.”

You whimper and try to open you legs wider, begging her to understand what you need. She must because she removes her fingers and a moment later the tip of her strap is dragging teasingly through your folds. You arch more, trying to get her inside of you again and unconsciously presenting for her. She groans and fills you with one thrust. She starts slow but hard, making you feel every inch of her. It doesn’t take you long to become a moaning mess again. Sinking into a hazy place you have’t been before. Filled with Agatha grunting above you, her cock filling you, her nails digging into your delicate skin. It’s all you could want.

Agatha gets louder, and slightly higher, and you realise the same thing that happened to you is happening to her. She’s coming. And you don’t get to watch her. 

A strange warmth fills you, one you didn’t notice last time. Agatha leans her forehead against the back of your neck, breathing heavy. 

“Good girl,” she says in such a deep voice that your toes curl.

You stay there for a long moment. Agatha buried deep inside of you, catching her breath as you try to even your own, fire still licking up your insides. It’s an awful sort of tease when she pulls out.

She removes the pillow and pushes you onto your side. Instead of getting up like you’re expecting, she curls around your back. Her fingers trail a light path down from your hip and your muscles jump at the feeling. They stop just above the sensitive button she’s so far neglected.

“Agatha? What’re you- “ you cut yourself off with a gasp as her finger begins to gently circle your clit.

“We have to make sure it sticks, don’t we?” she says.

You were so close to the edge before that it only takes a few firm circles and a swipe to fall over it again. It’s a lot gentler this time but it still has your body locking up in pleasure. Agatha leisurely strokes you through your high, her nose lightly nuzzling the back of your neck.

Her hand moves back to your hip and you bask in the warm afterglow.

Some time later, when both of your breathing has calmed and you’ve slipped into that soft space between awake and sleep, you decide that your mouth is dry enough to drag yourself out of bed for a drink. You don’t get far.

Agatha grabs you arm and rolls you onto your back. You give her a confused look as she climbs back on top of you.

“You are not leaving this bed until there’s no possible way I haven’t put a baby in you.”

[quarterlifekitty]

I've been re-reading your weaknesses series because I love it so much, and I've been wondering if you could maybe elaborate more on Price liking former gifted students?

Mmmmmmmmm always heeeheee

I went crazy a little sorry

I think many of the COD men, honestly, are highly motivated by objectives and tasks— that’s why their careers are as they are. Price loves to have a project. It’s what he lives for. And he sees you as a fulfilling, beautiful, long overdue project.

It’s in the way that he can read you like a book. He can clock you so easily and see exactly what happened to you to make you this way. He’s like an archeologist, the way he’s brushing off the dust and seeing the skeletal trauma of the specimen that is you. The way you push yourself. The way you don’t say no. The way you run yourself ragged and exhausted. The way you’ll never insert yourself, never advocate for yourself— not if it means taking up space. Not if it means compromising the pristine, trouble-free, low maintainence image that you’re prized for.

The world around you is content to use you. To see you made into a husk of yourself. To have you sacrifice every speck of peace and energy you have for yourself in order to be liked and valued by others. You’re a rainbow fish. Anyone can take a scale. He sees your brilliance being used but not appreciated. You’re regarded as a colonized resource— they have no regard for what will happen when you’re kept running in such an unsustainable fashion. That you will burn.

Nothing pleases him more than wordlessly taking tasks off of your plate. Telling you to sit down, that he’ll take care of things. To but in when people are asking favors and say “actually, they have enough to do right now” or “they’re coming straight home with me to rest. Captain’s orders” (whether or not this person answers to him). Tells people, in a playful, scary way (and yet in no uncertain terms) that if they continue taking advantage of your nature (he doesn’t care how supposedly ignorant they are to doing it) that they’ll have him to answer to.

He loves to lay you down at home and take away all of it. All of the decisions, the worry, the selflessness. He’ll take care of all of it. He just wants you pretty and perched in the palm of his hand. He’s your salvation and the architect of your paradise.

To an outsider, it may even seem like he’s the stereotypical whipped husband. Happy wife, happy life and all that. But he knows how long and deeply you’ve suffered, and how you perpetuated that suffering because you were trained to believe it to be the only path to love. You are a martyr saint to him. You gave up your life upon the faith that it would bring approval, acknowledgment, affection. He’s here to teach you selfishness. He’s here to teach you where love really comes from. He’s here to show you what it’s like to receive devotion rather than just give it.

Price is here to take back your scales.

[mondaymelon]

₊˚ෆ 𝐈 𝐂𝐀𝐍 𝐊𝐄𝐄𝐏 𝐀 𝐒𝐄𝐂𝐑𝐄𝐓, 𝐂𝐀𝐍 𝐘𝐎𝐔? | lyney, neuvillette, wriothesely x gn!reader

ˋ°•*⁀➷ cw: established relationship, fluffity fluff !! art by @/puna_822 on twitter, edited by me!

⤷ shh!! secret relationships with the fontaine men ₊˚ෆ

— Lyney will keep the secret well, of course. He’s a jack of all trades, and a little bit of misconception is nothing taxing for someone who can trick the eye with just a simple swipe of his hands.

…Though, his personality often brings much more to deal with behind the scenes. His every action is designed as a ruse, trying to draw any and every reaction from you - whether it be making you irritated as can be or practically burning from his smooth words. He’ll at the red on your face with a light smirk gracing his lips. “Embarrassed, now, are we? Mhm, best wipe it off your face though, lest anyone find out~”

Dealing with the magician was a headache. A delightful one, but painful nonetheless. He has a habit of saying whatever he wants, and it doesn’t help that he’s so good at it too. His tongue can twist poems out of thin air, or pickup lines at the drop of a hat. The number of times Lynette had glanced over at you with a concerned gaze was far more than you could count, and it would be only a matter of time before another carefully crafted sentence sent the entire mirage into collapse. The two of you had only decided to keep your relationship private in the first place due to work affairs. It’d just make things more frustrating if people were aware of the connection. In earlier weeks, you had tried to confront the man about the entire predicament, but he had only laughed it off with a shrug of his shoulders and a jesting beam. 

“Oh, don’t tell me that the words I tell you every day still make you so flustered? Archons, you really are a hopeless romantic, aren’t you? Although, for you, I suppose I’m no different…” 

When Freminet had eventually voiced his worries, gently holding your hands and saying, “A-Are you okay? Your face is really red, are you sick? Should I walk y-you home?”, there was no other choice but to shake your head, cover your flushed cheeks as best you could with a hand, and tell a blatant lie that there was nothing out of the ordinary.

There most certainly was, and it was the cat-like man who stood off to the side, a sly smirk on his face and one of his eyes closed in a wink. Not helping, Lyney.

When would the day come for you to be the one to make him flustered? Perhaps it was sooner than you thought, on his opening night for the new season. You weren’t sure if he had expected to see you in the crowd, but as he was performing his wonderous tricks, eyes sweeping over the hundreds present, his shimmering lilac eyes locked onto yours. His professional smile stretched a little wider, and as he pulled a dove out of his hat with a flourish of his arms, beamed. The astonished look on your face was something he’d be sure not to forget.

As soon as the lights dim onstage, he hurries off of it, giving Lynette a quick farewell and combing back his unruly hair with his fingers. He spots you standing by the exit, holding… a bouquet of roses in your arms? They were a beautiful sight, yet paled in comparison to how ethereal you looked in the moment, the spotlights afar illuminating your face with a glow and your eyes sparkling with delight. This always happens when the two of you are alone - he’ll switch from verbal affection to physical, and this time is no exception. He sweeps you into his arms, slotting his lips against yours as he pulls you into a deep kiss that leaves you breathless and red. However, this time, the blush dusting your cheeks is not only on your face but his, as he takes the flowers in his arms with a bright smile. 

“For me, love? Come now, I can’t possibly keep how good we are together from everyone else, can I?” ₊˚ෆ

— Neuvillette is… an interesting case. For starters, he’s baffled at the concept of keeping the relationship a secret. Elaborate that you don’t want to ruin his reputation as a perfect, just, and stone-cold judge, and he’ll oblige… reluctantly. He still doesn’t understand - just why can’t he show you how much he loves you in public?

For now, he’ll have to chalk it up as more human affairs that he’s deemed too complicated to figure out. Ground rules have been laid out - no mentioning the relationship, no telling anyone either… not even the melusines, which was a fair case, since they’d be sure to spread the news faster than wildfire. The mortal realm is far more puzzling than it seems, he concludes somberly. An unfamiliar world that was arduous to coexist in. It’ll be alright, though, as long as he can intertwine his fingers with yours and look into your eyes and-

“N- Sir Neuvillette… not here!” You chide quietly, slowly withdrawing your hand from his. His face falls into an instant, brows furrowing. He’ll bite his tongue, for your sake, and remain silent, yet his fingers twitch. Archons, his hands feel so much better when they’re in yours. The man watches with dejected eyes as you whip your head around anxiously, before gesturing for Neuvillette to bend down. He complies, and matches himself to your height, yet immediately pauses any motion as soon as he feels your lips brush against his forehead. You brush a stray lock of his behind his reddened ears, a grin curving on your lips.

“Don’t be too disappointed, okay? I don’t want it to rain on my way back home~” You beam slyly as you lean away, witnessing Neuvillette’s expression undergo several stages - downcast, shocked, flustered… and then a small smile graces his expression.

“I’ll see you when I get home. Don’t wait up for me. The case might run late.” Neuvillette chuckles to himself, straightening his posture as he softly pinches your cheek, laughing at the way you begin to pout. It’s something the melusines told him to do, and he’s glad he listened - your face is soft, and he has to hold himself back from kissing you. He can hear people around the corner, their voices growing closer. “Get home safe.”

“Love?” Whenever the dragon enters home, he’ll call you by the name he’s unable to call you anywhere else - something he loathes with a burning sensation in his chest. “Are you…” His voice fades as he sees you curled up on the couch, eyes closed and chest slowly rising and falling with every breath. Had you tried to stay up for him? Cute. He takes you in his arms and brings you to the bedroom, carefully arranging the pillows and blankets around your sleeping form. You stir in your state, lids slowly fluttering open as you stare at the man above you with drowsy eyes.

“Neuvi?” The use of his nickname makes his heart flutter. It’s utterly incomparable to what you call him at work, “Sir Neuvillette.” Too rigid. You giggle at the sight of him, still half-asleep, and cup his face in your hands. “Welcome home… did I fall asleep? Ah, I’m sorry, I guess I was too tired…?”

The smile on his face won’t leave.

Yes, moments like these allowed him to continue this strange human practice.

He places his hands on yours, reveling in your warmth.

“Sleep, love.” ₊˚ෆ

— Wriothesley’s used to being professional. If he wasn’t, his work would be a lifetime more demanding than it was at the moment - although, perhaps even that’d be easier than keeping himself away from you until watchful eyes are no longer present.

He’s touchy whenever he’s with you. He likes leaning into your figure, even if you’re shorter than him, just to take in the way you embrace him back, but he loves the feeling of your fingers with his even more. It makes him feel… giddy, light, like he could drift away with the slightest breeze.

And that’s an issue. In order for you to remain safe, he’ll have to stay hushed about you being his lover. He’s made enemies, that much is natural. Of course, he’ll comply with your wishes to keep the relationship private. You could tell him to eat dirt and he’d do just that. Things like that are second nature now. Before, he had no trouble lasting weeks, or months in the Fortress of Meropide at once. After all, there was no driving incentive to head back to the city of Fontaine other than greeting the melusines, dropping off official papers, or, his guilty pleasure, ordering bags upon bags of tea from the mainland, so that he’d have more than enough to drink at the fortress. Now that you were here, however, how could he possibly stay away longer than a few days? If your hands in his were what made him float away, your smile brought him back, with a racing heart in his chest and a smile spread across his features. He’d give the world to see your smile, since it was his world. A single laugh from you would cause the background to fade to white, and rouse his heart and face into a flustered mess.

The prisoners notice a difference. Of course, they don’t know who this mysterious person the duke is seeing, but all they know is that they’re certainly working wonders. On miraculous, wondrous days, they'll even catch a glimpse of a smile on his face while he’s sitting at his desk, sifting through paperwork. As time passes, the news only grows more widespread, eventually reaching the ears of the ludex himself. It’s true, there is an apparent change - one that he captures on the duke’s more frequent visits to land. For a while, fables and tales of Wriothelsey’s mysterious lover spread throughout the city from ear to ear in hushed, excited whispers.

He’ll tease you about it, of course, but he’s really just rather intrigued. Has he really changed that much after meeting you? He doesn’t think so, but he wouldn’t put it past himself. “Darling, darling…” He repeats your petname when you don’t immediately react. “Darling, c’mon…” He can feel the pout creeping on his lips.

“Impatient, are we, Wrio?” You sigh as you turn away from your work, and his icy eyes light up in an instant. You stroke your hand through his hair gently, carding your fingers through the soft, dark strands, and you can see the way Wriothelsey simply melts under your touch. “You’ve been seeking me quite often these days, haven’t you?”

Maybe he has changed. Staring up at you with half-lidded eyes and a smile playing on his lips, feeling his ears warm, perhaps that conjecture has been solidified as the truth.

“Is it so wrong to wish for you, darling?”

(a/n) ngl i kinda hate this fanfic. everything about it. everyone seems so ooc and the prompt is barely even mentioned ew ew ew not my best work by far please dont tell me writers block is coming back i hate that big bad scary thing

໒꒱ || ᴛᴀɢʟɪꜱᴛ (open! send an ask or a comment ♡) : @manager-of-the-pudding-bank, @iamdedinside, @ilyuu, @achlysis, @swivy123, @scara-is-my-wife

[its3nvy]

Hello I was wondering if you could do a billy bonney hc on cuddling with him.

Billy the Kid cuddling hc's

Note : I'm so obsessed with this man, send help pls

word count: 500

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Billy was all about that elaborate sweet talk, weaving the cutest, most endearing words into your ear, making you blush and playfully roll your eyes—all of which you secretly loved.

His favorite thing was waking up in the morning with you in his arms. As the sun filtered through the window, he'd hold you a little tighter, savoring the warmth and the moment before the challenges of the day began.

Random kisses were his trademark. Neck, forehead, back of the hand, shoulders, cheeks, nose—everywhere. It was his way of expressing affection in simple, unexpected ways.

Being the big spoon was his favorite position. Feeling you all bundled up in his arms, pressed snugly against his chest, gave him a sense of security. It was like he could shield you from everything, even if he knew you were perfectly capable of handling things on your own. But in those moments, it was his way of offering a little extra comfort.

He loved touching you—tracing the lines of your face, combing his hand through your hair—every caress a silent declaration of his affection. 

Billy had this natural calm energy about him, and whenever you were with him, especially during cuddle sessions, his calming aura just rubbed off on you. His presence had a magical way of soothing your troubles, whether you were upset, angry, or just had a rough day.

On days when guilt about his mom and brother weighed heavily on Billy, he'd bury his face in your chest, wrapping his arms around your waist. Holding him tightly, you'd assure him that you were there to take away his sadness, and he'd respond with a soft smile, finding comfort in your embrace.

Tangled legs were a must when cuddling with Billy. If not, he'd instantly throw his legs over yours, claiming that it was the only way he ever got truly comfortable.

Serious, deep talks were inevitable during cuddle sessions with Billy. He was an open book with you, trusting you with his life. He never pressured you to discuss anything you weren't comfortable with, and he was equally game for lighthearted talks, cherishing every moment spent in your company.

Even when asleep, Billy stayed connected. If you shifted during the night, there was always an arm searching for that reassuring touch. The man couldn't sleep well without feeling you close.

Your fingers tracing the muscles of his arms or the veins sent shivers of delight through Billy. It was a simple act that soothed him, a tactile reassurance of your connection.

Both of you were obsessed with listening to each other's heartbeats. Falling asleep with one of your heads on the other's chest became a nightly ritual, a symphony of heartbeats lulling you into peaceful slumber. It was a shared intimacy that deepened your bond.

Billy loved it when you played with his hair. The hums of appreciation and the subtle smiles were proof that he cherished the simple act of you running your fingers through his curls.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 　　 *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

please like, reblog and follow for more!

requests: open!

[mercillery]

ANDREW KREISS RELATIONSHIP OVERVIEW

WARNINGS: GENDER NOT SPECIFIED + MENTION OF ABLEISM + OOC? + NOT PROOFREAD

NOTES: Andrew mains let me put you in my pocket and take care of you. And quit your jobs too, I will provide for you all.

Being in a relationship with Andrew is an adventure in patience, understanding, and love. Sure, love is a given in any relationship, but with Andrew, it's essential to navigate his unique quirks and preferences with a touch of extra care.

For instance, Andrew dislikes sunlight, so when it comes to planning dates, be prepared for moonlit strolls and stargazing rather than sunny picnics and beach outings. If you’re a sun worshipper, it’s time to stock up on moonblock instead.

Crowds? Forget about it. Andrew thrives in the quiet corners of the world, where the population density is low and the ambiance is serene. He’s the quintessential introvert, the kind who’d rather have a cozy evening at home than a bustling night out. If you’re the life-of-the-party type, this might require some adjustment.

When you first start dating, don't be surprised if he stumbles over his words or gets flustered over the simplest things. A casual brush of your hand against his might send him into a blushing frenzy. He might awkwardly laugh at things that aren’t jokes or offer you a flower he picked up without realizing it's a bit wilted. It's all part of his charm, though.

Andrew’s awkwardness comes from a place of inexperience rather than indifference. He genuinely wants to give you all his love and affection, but he’s not quite sure how to go about it. He’s learning, slowly but surely, how to open up and let someone into his world. Please be patient with him.

The early days of your relationship might be filled with small, tentative steps. Once he’s actually comfortable around you enough, maybe he’ll invite you to the cemetery, showing you his world in a way that’s meaningful to him. Don’t be surprised if he seems more at ease there, where he’s surrounded by the familiar. It might seem unconventional, but for Andrew, it's a big step toward letting you into his life.

His awkwardness is part of what makes him so endearing. Every hesitant smile and gesture is a sign of his growing affection for you. He's new to all of this, and it feels weird to him, but in the best way possible. As he becomes more comfortable, you'll see glimpses of his true self—a kind, thoughtful person who’s just been waiting for someone to understand him.

I think it should be flat-out obvious that Andrew is not one for grand displays of affection. Don't expect sweeping romantic gestures or elaborate declarations of love. He shows his feelings through small, meaningful actions that speak volumes about his deep affection for you. You might find a single flower left on your pillow, a delicate token of his feelings. Or, during difficult moments, he'll be there, quietly holding your hand, offering comfort and support without saying much.

Andrew has a way with words, but he prefers to write them down rather than speak them. You might receive handwritten notes from him, filled with poetic descriptions of his emotions and how much you mean to him. These notes are treasures, capturing his heartfelt sentiments in a way spoken words often can't.

His love language is all about acts of service and giving thoughtful gifts. He'll go out of his way to do little things that make your life easier, whether it's fixing something around the house, cooking a meal, or simply being there when you need him. These acts, though seemingly simple, are his way of showing how much he cares.

As for gift giving, receiving gifts from Andrew is always special because they're never random. Each gift is chosen with care and has a personal significance. It could be a book he knows you'll love or something that reminds him of a special moment you shared.

Having been the victim of ableism and cruelly labeled the “white-haired monster” because of his albinism, Andrew struggles with the painful memories of his past. These experiences have left deep scars, making it difficult for him to trust and open up to others. However, he trusts you and is comfortable enough to lean on you for emotional support, finding solace in your presence.

Andrew’s past is a heavy burden he carries, and it’s not easy for him to talk about it. The wounds from being ostracized and misunderstood run deep, really deep. That being said, he’ll seem distant or reluctant to share his feelings. But with your gentle encouragement and unwavering support, he slowly begins to open up. It’s a gradual process, marked by small breakthroughs and quiet conversations where he reveals his inner turmoil. Your compassion acts as a balm for his wounded soul, helping him to heal bit by bit.

And if you reveal your own issues to him, Andrew gives you his full attention. He wants to be there for you just as you have been there for him. He may not always have the right words to say, but his presence and understanding are more than enough.

He might not be an expert in comforting others, but he genuinely tries his absolute best to make you feel better. His attempts might be awkward or clumsy, but they are always heartfelt. Whether it's sitting quietly by your side, offering a reassuring touch, or simply listening without interrupting, Andrew’s efforts show how much he cares.

He understands how much it means to have someone there during difficult times because he's been on the receiving end of your support. He wants to reciprocate that same level of care and understanding. His empathy runs deep, and even if he struggles to find the right words, his actions speak volumes. He might bring you a small token of comfort, like a warm cup of tea or a favorite book, as a way to show he's thinking of you.

In those moments when you need a shoulder to lean on, Andrew's there, providing a quiet, steady presence that offers a sense of calm and security. He knows the value of having someone who listens and understands, and he strives to be that person for you. His dedication to your well-being is evident in the way he prioritizes your needs and makes an effort to be there for you, just as you have been there for him. He wants to make you feel the same way you make him feel when he opens up about his own issues: understood, valued, and better.

If you ever want to surprise Andrew and watch him melt, gift him iris flowers. He has a special fondness for irises because someone once told him that iris will turn into a rainbow and carry kind souls to heaven.

So when you give him iris flowers, it’s not just a gift; it’s a gesture that genuinely touches his heart. The fact that these flowers come from you, the person he loves, makes the gesture even more meaningful. You’ll see his eyes light up and a smile spread across his face as he gently takes the flowers.

Andrew might hold the irises with a reverence that speaks volumes about how much this gesture means to him. He might even get a bit emotional from the simple yet profound act of receiving these flowers from you, evoking a deep sense of love and gratitude. In his quiet, heartfelt way, he’ll thank you, stumbling over his words as he tries to express just how much this means to him.

Your relationship is built on these little moments, these quiet acts of love that speak louder than any grand proclamation. It’s a partnership where both of you bring out the best in each other, healing wounds and creating a bond that’s deeply personal and profoundly touching. And if anyone asks, you can always joke that your love story started in a cemetery with a guy who’s more comfortable with the dead than the living—but who learned to cherish the living soul who loves him.

[helloaugustmoon]

·˚ ◌༘͙[Petnames] ! ˊ

- obviously, there are the ones we know from his music; “my girl”, “baby”, etc

- and there are the ones we know for certain he has used affectionately for girls he’s been with, like “little one”

- can absolutely see him calling you “princess”, “sweet girl”, “pretty girl”, “treasure”, “precious”

- loves nothing more than to call you HIS pretty girl, treasure, etc

- and with his love of superheroes I’d put money on him calling you “wonder-girl”, as well as just “wonder”

- it doesn’t matter if your name isn’t Wendy bc he’ll still call you the Wendy to his Peter Pan frfr

- he’d definitely come up with petnames that are so unique to you, too

- considering the lyrical and poetic mastermind he is, he’ll think of the most specific petnames to do with the color of your eyes, hair color, sound of your voice

- he’ll def call you his muse and his songbird

- his little bird in general, actually

- as for petnames he’d like to be called, I honestly think he’d melt over anything you called him

- Mike, Applehead, all the classics

- but his favorite is most definitely when you call him “angel face”

- it still makes him so shy no matter how many times he hears you call him that

- speaks to his insecurities and reminds him of how much you adore him, how attracted you really are to him

·˚ ◌༘͙[Era specific] ! ˊ

now, these are kinda wild cards, but I can imagine him having petnames that he either comes up with for you during certain eras OR if he met you in a specific era these would be his first choices of petnames for you

Off The Wall - his shyest era so he’d be least confident w petnames and would only use them after a WHILE and he’d be so quiet about it too. literally you’d have to be in a completely empty hotel and he’d still only whisper that you’re his girl. more likely to tell you things like “I’ll never love another” than call you by petnames in this era imo, but would ABSOLUTELY call you a treasure when you do something that makes him smile. in fact, he’d outright call you “the smile on my face”.

Thriller - continuing on from previous, at this point he’s more confident in calling you “the only eyes in the crowd” and other poetic things like that. he’ll ask “where’s my smile?” when he’s looking for you backstage and I’m crying.

Bad - he’ll THINK of calling you his bad girl in this era but he’ll be too shy so he keeps that one to himself until later and instead calls you the sweetest things to juxtapose the badassery of the era like his “sweetiepie”, “sweetest girl”, “pretty bird”. in all those leather outfits n he’s calling you that? pls.

Dangerous - in this era, he’s def calling you things like his “one and only”, and straight up just “mine”. no elaboration needed. and we are all sat actually.

Blood On The Dance Floor - kinkiest era Idc, he’ll have felt confident enough by this time to call you “bad girl” and more specifically HIS bad girl with a smirk and I said what I said. he says it like he means you’re his good girl but he sounds flirtier when he says you’re bad and he finds your reaction so cute every time. oh falling into a heap of goo on the floor is cute? thanks beloved x

Invincible - now we all know from this era onwards Michael is feelin some type of way ���� and for that I think “lover”; he’ll call you his lover with the UTMOST affection FR! after everything he’s gone through by this era, you are his true love, his anchor, his solace, and he would call you all of those things too. whether he meets you in this era or a previous one, by this era he is so devoted to you, there’s not a thing he wouldn’t do in worship of you.

[ghoulfuckersincorporated]

I'm not sure if you've answered this before or touched on the subject, my apologies if you have, but would a condom help protect you from most of the radioactivity of ghoul semen? Just a thought, because I've noticed a lot writers use Rad-X or RadAway as a catch-all to safe(ish) ghoul sex; whereas some say there's still damage to be done even with these. But have we considered a condom?!

WARNING: YET ANOTHER RANT ABOUT GHOUL CUM IMMINENT, BRACE FOR IMPACT

And thanks for the ask, Anon. I really do enjoy these ghoul biology questions.

I have touched on the effects of ghoul semen on humans before, largely in this post, but I didn't elaborate much on condom usage. We endorse safe sex here, but...well, let's just say there's a lot more demand for portraying no-condom fucking than there is for the opposite. For this reason, at least personally, I usually just use Rad-X and Radaway as a sort of catch-all since it's basically in-game magic. Plus, my readers yearn for the c r e a m p i e aspect of it all.

Besides, if I'm honest, I'm not convinced that a condom would be of all that much use when fucking a ghoul, at least an older ghoul.

I spent some time browsing through a few research papers and articles about how gamma radiation affects various materials to give a 'not completely bullshit' answer to this. I know a fair amount about how radiation can impact the body, but relatively little about how it can impact non-biological material. Turns out, it's quite hard on most things! Shocker!

I think the biggest determining factor about whether or not a condom would provide you any actual protection with a ghoul lover would be the age and transformation status of the ghoul. I've mentioned before how I theorize that they become more radioactive over time, even if they never enter a more advanced stage of ghoulification, like becoming a glowing one.

A newly-transformed ghoul would likely both have lower levels of radiation in their bodily fluids AND no sperm (as I elaborated on in my post about ghoul-fathered pregnancy), so a condom would really only provide protection from the mild damage and irritation that prolonged or repeated exposure to low-level rads would cause your vaginal/anal/oral tissue. Not to say that isn't helpful! No one really likes the idea of being all raw from mild radiation burns inside them, and sometimes you just wanna go a half-dozen rounds with your high-stamina lover with no stress. Besides, if you're not a ghoul yourself, less overall radiation exposure is an unquestionable good.

Older ghouls (and obviously those who are in more advanced stages of ghoulification), being more radioactive overall in this scenario, also have much more radioactive fluids. Obviously anyone who is pre-war would fall under this category, but frankly anyone who has been a ghoul for more than a few decades is probably gonna be pretty "hot" overall. Low rad-resistance/low endurance folks may need to strongly consider alternative forms of intercourse, especially if Rad-X and Radaway aren't available or sufficient. With partners like this, the condom keeping the semen confined inside it means it's effective in stopping things that have to actively work to infect you (sperm, viruses/bacteria, etc.), but radiation doesn't work like that. It can easily impact you negatively if you're simply close enough to the source of it without any direct contact. If I wrapped a polonium core in a condom and shoved it inside you, you would still get incredibly sick and burned, and I think essentially the same would apply to telling your older ghoul partner to use extant barrier contraception (condoms, diaphragms, cervical caps, etc.). Honestly, if they have a high enough rad level, they may just literally melt straight through whatever you're using.

It is possible that ghoul-friendly contraception could be created, at least in my opinion. But it would be complicated and difficult to find something that "ticks all the right boxes", per se. For obvious reasons, you wouldn't want a lead wool diaphragm or a cadmium-lined condom or anything like that. I understand there are a lot of different polymers/plastics that are resistant to radiation, and I'm sure that some of them are made of components that wouldn't necessarily be harmful to have inside you, especially since some of them are used to manufacture things like radiation PPE (personal protective equipment like gowns/gloves/shields/radiation blankets/etc.). However, I don't have a broad enough understanding to say for sure whether or not any of these polymers would make for the sort of material you could manufacture physical/barrier contraception from. I have a degree in a biology-heavy STEM field and not a pure-chemistry STEM field for a reason. Either way, I feel like it might be a little hard to get your hands on material like that, at least consistently, 200+ years after a nuclear apocalypse, unless you could find a way to freshly manufacture it. If you're going older in terms of your search for a ghoul partner, you're probably better off sticking to Rad-X and Radaway, overall.

If I, personally, were president in the Fallout universe, whatever funds that were earmarked for scientific research would be reallocated to figuring out how to mass-produce and distribute a ghoul-friendly form of contraception. I think it would be a great healing step for what remains of America if all the ghouls and all the smoothskins could get in a big pile and just fuck it out. Vote for me.

[ps-cactus]

HO 🎄HO ☃️ HO 🎁 it's your Secret Santa in town🎅🤶🔔🎶 coming down your chimney with questions about your MC ⬇️⬇️⬇️

I'm so excited to learn more about Alyn! I just got started on one of your fics but I'm dying to know what the dynamics are between Alyn and Ominis?? What do they do when they spend time together? Who's the more affectionate one? Do they argue a lot? Who apologizes first? I would love to know if you don't mind sharing ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

Hellooo! Thank you for reading 🥹💖 and for the questions, Santa! 💖✨ HERE COMES THE BIG POST! ~800 words👇🏻

To not make it extremely big I marked with * places where there are some extra headcanons behind the statement and I can elaborate additionally if needed.

Amberlyn x Ominis

⋆˚⋆⌜ Dynamics ⌟⋆˚⋆

The only one who'd understand. Recognition of each other's complexities. Mutual respect. Quiet support. Nevertheless, push and pull of varying intensity. Something from their Pinterest board:

Their bond unfolds slowly, built on trust (since Scriptorium, Alyn always sided with Ominis*) and, much later, subtle expressions of affection. They find common ground in shared struggles (family issues among them*) and the guilt and grief lingering after the events of the fifth year.

Alyn has a knack for finding the right words to soften Ominis' sharp edges and gently coax him into vulnerability. Though both are reserved in their own ways, they provide each other a sense of safety and understanding. (exceptions in Conflicts below)

Alyn is more open with affection—small, casual touches like brushing her hand against his (or her knee against his, because yes, she would; she’s, lost, traumatised and overcaffeinated teen). She completes his notes sometimes, drawing schemes from the board for him, describes things that catch her attention in and out of the class—all this happens naturally and easily.

Ominis is more reserved but deeply enjoys her presence and is grateful for her small gestures of help and appreciation. At first, he starts to subconsciously lean just a little closer than necessary during conversations. Over months time, he becomes braver about returning her gestures—a hand brushing hers deliberately, his voice softens noticeably when he speaks to her.

⋆˚⋆⌜ Time together ⌟⋆˚⋆

✨Studying: Since around the end of the fifth year, they often sit together at classes, at the library, or meet in common areas of the castle. Ominis becomes attuned to Alyn's steps, her scent, her presence. He’s startled to realise one day the sound of her voice reading aloud calms him.

✨Spells and Dueling Practice: Ominis’ magic is powerful, and his wand never misses. Alyn learns new spells quickly, and is excellent in explaining. Their training sessions are focused yet competitive and somewhat playful, filled with mutual encouragement and a bit of teasing. Alyn would brush the dust from a shattered dummy off his shoulder, and Ominis, whether he admitted it or not, would think that if the entire castle crumbled into dust around him, he wouldn’t mind—as long as it meant she’d be this close again, brushing it away with her hand.

✨Walks: Both enjoy long walks through the castle or by Black Lake. In the sixth year, they always visit Hogsmeade together. Sometimes they are just walking or sitting in silence. They don't normally talk in big emotional outbursts but instead share small, meaningful pieces of themselves over time.

⋆˚⋆⌜ Conflicts ⌟⋆˚⋆

They feel connection because they understand each other’s pain and offer emotional safety, but that very depth makes them vulnerable to fear, mistakes, and misunderstandings.

⚡️Curiosity vs protectiveness: Alyn is still new to the magical world. It makes her eager to learn everything—seemingly dangerous or not—out of wonder, fascination, and a desire to understand and catch up. Ominis, however, sees such curiosity as naivety and feels an urge to protect her, especially from anything risky. Alyn grows frustrated when she feels he’s infantilising her.

✨ Resolution: Alyn may prove her curiosity is tempered by caution, reassuring Ominis that she won’t put herself recklessly in harm’s way. Ominis, in turn, may learn to trust her judgment while remaining a protective figure she can rely on.

⚡️Miscommunication: Both Ominis and Alyn struggle with communication. Ominis often needs time alone to process his thoughts, but Alyn interprets his silence as distance or blame and tries to pull him out of it. If she doesn't succeed, she can rapidly go to 'Oh, it's now me not talking to you.'

✨ Resolution: They need to compromise—Alyn has to learns to give Ominis the time he needs, trusting that he will come back to her. Ominis, in turn, has to learn to communicate when he needs space instead of leaving her guessing.

⚡️SeBaStIaN isn’t even at school during their sixth year. But, whenever he’s brought up, Ominis subtly redirects or shuts the topic down, even though he's not as mad at him as he used to be and still considers him a friend. Among other feelings, Ominis is unsettled by the thought of Alyn reconnecting with Sebastian and leaving him behind. Again. His worry isn’t just jealousy (though it is that too). He fears Sebastian might pull her into something dark and dangerous. Again.

Ominis might: a) Withdraw—not to punish Alyn, but to protect himself emotionally. b) Overcompensate—offer her small gestures of affection, lingering touches, or closeness during homework sessions as a subconscious reassurance of their bond. c) Act stupid and say something he'll regret.

Alyn, in turn, gets irritated by his lack of trust, and such an attack on her judgment.

✨ Resolution: Alyn may reassure Ominis that she was never anything more than friends with Sebastian, and that she’s not under anyone’s influence. Ominis needs to learn to differentiate between jealousy and genuine worry and to communicate his fears in a healthier way.

⋆˚⋆⌜ Apologies ⌟⋆˚⋆

Ominis apologises after angry outbursts, guilt-ridden over losing control—something he fears makes him like his family. His apologies are slow and a bit awkward but deeply sincere. Alyn, on the other hand, apologises gently when she feels she’s misunderstood his intentions or pushed too hard.

Some of these 👆🏻bring them to this 👇🏻

⋆ Christmas 1891 ⋆

...and the aftermath. The second half of the sixth year.

Extra overcompensating for his insecurities while being not entirely sober, Ominis actually kissed Alyn. It happened after an argument following the Christmas party, but as Christmas magic would have it, that time both sides felt heard and satisfied. Eventually, they found themselves sitting together on the windowsill, sharing a quiet conversation. Aaand the first kiss happened.

Afterwards, Ominis apologised so many times they almost had another argument. Alyn reassured him that he didn’t need to apologise—that she didn’t mind them trying this new relationship. But of course, they have to make sure no one finds out.

And here the 'Shades' story begins

[ Thank you for reading all this! Now the little side note and rambling (sobbing on the floor) I don't think I actually succeeded at writing their friends to lovers trope in 'Darkness' I wasn't ever even going to post it and it shows. Well, anyway, I figured I'm rather more interested in writing adventure/action and seasoning it with romance than the other way around. That's what I'm trying to do better in 'Shades'. At the same time, now I have clearer understanding of how to deepen and write their relationship and again, it will all be covered in 'Shades' . You are very welcome to read 🤍]

[lmaowhatt]

apologies galore - john b r.

part 2 of sympathetic truths - john b r. <- pt 1!

could be read as a standalone!

summary: after john bs fuse blows, he goes to the fullest extent to apologize to his girl, the right way.

set: during s3, based after john b and sarahs talk after he and his father come back from the mainland and he lies to the pogues about not finding anything, the aftermath.

pairing: john b routledge x cameron turned pogue!reader

warnings: soft!john b, mention of death, swearing, a bit of trauma (dont we love it?)

if theres any others feel free to let me know!

john b dropped his arm back down from beside his ear to hang off his knee, both elbows propped up on it, hanging up as your voicemail message played for the seventh time in that hour. "shit," the boy muttered as he looked out the window, the dusk glow illuminating his room slightly as he listend to the slight rustling coming from his father in his home office. whether it was mere minutes or hours, the boy couldnt bear seeing you mad at him, especially when he knew he had done something wrong, something very, very wrong.

the boy heaved out a heavy breath, tapping his fingers audibly as he moved to find your contact, typing out his next message to an already large string of messages, 'baby please answer me. i wanna apologize.' he groaned, laying back in his double bed as the 'seen' mark showed up under his message, he watched as the gray typing bubble moved around, letting his phone fall onto the bed when he saw them disappear once more.

he craned his neck upward when he heard a soft knock on the door, his eyes meeting his father's just as the man spoke. "night, bird," he said with that familiar crooked smile, the kind john b had seen a thousand times but never grew tired of, especially after being deprived of it nearly a year. it made him smile, just a little, the expression barely visible but genuine. "night, dad," john b replied quietly, the words carrying a tired affection.

as soon as the door clicked shut behind his father, john b let out a quiet breath and ran a hand through his hair. "god.." his fingers tugged absentmindedly at the slightly tangled strands, the motion a way to ground himself, to release some of the tension he hadn’t even realized had settled in his muscles. he paused for a moment, just laying there in the quiet ambiance that settled in his room, shaking his head as he moved to rest against his wooden headboard.

"fuck this," the boy spoke into the air, scrambling to grab his phone, scrolling vigorously and finally stopping at jjs contact and pressing the call button. after a couple moments of waiting, the blondes voice rang through the phone. "what up, john?" jj groaned, sounding slightly out of breath and groggy.

john b furrowed his eyebrows at jjs short greeting, usually being introduced to a 'why hello husband,' or some other corny shit everytime the two called, "you alright?" the blonde groaned quietly in response, john bs nose scrunching up in disgust as shuffling, followed by kiaras tired voice, was heard in the background. "eugh- are you? oh my g-" john b said, cutting himself of as he rubbed his forehead with his fingertips.

"you- you couldve just not answered, y'know?" the boy reasoned, chuckling at jjs response, "your ass wouldve kept callin' anyway, whats up?" he said. john b sighed, his mind reeling. "uhm.. shit. i dont know- i think i fucked up," john b began standing and quietly walking out of his room onto the back porch, plopping down on the white and blue embroidered hammock.

jj hummed as if asking to elaborate, "well, uh. after everyone left earlier today, me and y/n kinda argued. well, really, it was more my fault," he started, hesitating on whether or not to tell the full story. "how, exactly? i need deets, john b." shuffling was still heard from his side of the call, john b rolling his eyes in response. "look- i kinda brought up the whole barbados thing, her dad tryna kill her 'n shit," the boy detailed, very vaguely. "also never say deets again," he finished, earning a chuckle from jj.

"whatever, anyway. yeah, kie and her were here earlier, i heard 'em talking about it." john b furrowed his eyebrows at the statement, "she was at yours? didnt think to tell me, maybank?" the boy defensively asked, a hint of an accusatory tone squeezing in. "whoa man. dont get your panties in a bunch. she told me i couldnt say anything, so did kie. theyre scary together, alright?" the boy almost raised his hands in defense, forgetting john b wasnt stood directly in front of him.

john b rolled his eyes yet again, "is she there?" jj shook his head slightly stumbling over his words, "nah, man. she left around five- ten minutes ago." john b let out an exasperated sigh, "fuck. its like," the boy shifted, placing his phone on speaker and lying down on the hammock, placing the phone on his chest. "im really fucking sorry, for everything. i fuckin' married 'er man, that shit shouldnt have been on my fucking radar to say to her, or to say at all." the boy shut his eyes, listening to the quiet flow of waves moving against each other in the marsh as he waited for jjs response. "kinda shitty," jj shrugged, earning a groan from john b.

besides the groan, a small laugh did erupt from john bs throat before turning serious once again, "but, seriously. it was bad enough that i was acting like a bitch when she was trying to help, saying that shit knowing what she w- what i went- fuck. what we went through, was just wrong, man." both boys stayed quiet, jj processing john bs apology towards you, turning to you who had been quiet and stood in front of kiara, listening to the entire conversation, mostly forced to but.. same thing. john b was mostly racking his brain and trying to find ways to apologize to you, once you decided to hear him out.

"damn, i just wish she was here so i could apologize, but i think i fucked up. big time." jj sighed as he listened to his best friend, squinting his eyes at you slightly, accompanied by a tilt of his head as you approached, taking the phone from his hand. "jj-?" john b started as the silence began to get suspiciously longer, you stayed quiet for a couple seconds, watching with a small smile as kie places a hand over jjs mouth, dragging him out of his room at his fathers house.

you hesitated. a part of you thought it was definitely too early to apologize, but the other part of you missed him, wishing you were in his arms right now instead of cooped up at jjs. finally, you took the phone off speaker, pulling it up to your ear to speak without prying ears, "john b..?" you trailed off, gnawing softly at your lip, listening intently as you heard john b shuffle, presumably sitting up in the hammock.

"baby? oh my god, baby im so sorry. for everything. i-" you shook your head, even if he couldnt see, "no. i- i get it, i mean its like.. a lot of pressure and stuff.." john b sighed, picking at his fingernails, wishing in his mind that he could hold your face in his hand, kiss your face until he couldnt feel his lips anymore, numb from the amount of affection he poured into each affectionate peck, each kiss lingering just a bit longer than the last. god he hoped you forgave him.

finally snapping back into reality the boy quickly denied anything you were going to say, fully acknowledging his wrongs. "please.. let me talk," he began softly, not wanting to sound demanding or put on a man handling tone. "im really fucking sorry, i am. it was a shitty thing of me to do because i know how much youve been through, especially with your dad. and besides whatever shit he had going on with my dad, it shouldnt have given me the right to use the time you.. died against you."

tears pooled on your waterline as you sniffled on the other end of the line, "god, baby. i never told you how much those two minutes tortured me. i thought i lost the love of my life, i-" you allow a tear to slip down your cheek as you listen to him choke on his tears, taking a moment to catch his breath. "i felt so fucking helpless. standing over you, you looked so.. broken, so defeated. and- all i could think about was the damn fucking treasure when my real treasure was in front of my face the whole damn time. baby, im so sorry." you sniffle, swiping the back of your wrist against your cheek, sniffling as you struggled to find the words to say. "just- i love you, im sorry. really fucking sorry."

you smiled softly as you stared as the flooring of jjs room, "can i come over..?" you asked quietly, not knowing if it was appropriate when you hadnt even accepted the boys apology. however, you were surprised when a, "please," came out of his lips. "ill be there in a minute," you said, standing up from jjs squeaky bed, opening jjs bedroom door to find jj and kiara already waiting.

you hung up the phone, watching as jj giddily smiled and kiara rolled her eyes at him, placing a hand on your shoulder, "you sure about this?" she asked you with furrowed eyebrows. you nodded slightly, "yeah, he um.. lets just go." you tilted your head towards the front door slightly as the three of you walked out of jjs house, getting into kiaras jeep.

once kiara put the car in park, you practically flew out of the backseat, rushing up to john b who was waiting for you by the porch stairs. his face lit up ever so slightly as he watched you approach, letting out a small grunt as you crashed into his arms, wrapping your arms around his shoulders. the boy quickly reciprocated your actions, wrapping his arms around your waist and resting his head on the side of yours, a small smile painted on his face.

"i love you," you slowly pulled away, taking his face in yours hands, pulling him in for a soft, passionate kiss. this one was different. it wasnt like the needy, messy, lustful ones the two of you shared when you two got a chance to be home alone and away from the treasure hunting stress. no. this one was full of love, unspoken words, and a fulfilling promise. the boy pulled away, foreheads resting against each other.

he sighed placing a soft kiss on your forehead, his hands moving to your cheeks as yours stayed in their place, "i love you, too. ill never stop apologizing for this," you smiled, knowing he would try his hardest to keep his word. "if you ever pull that card on me again john b, i swear to-" you got cut off as he pulled you in for yet another soft, heartfelt kiss. you smiled slighty, hearing jj and kiara let out strings of cheers in the background, pulling away as john b caressed your cheeks with his thumb.

"i won't. you have my word, baby."

a/n: wrote a second half of this pic while listening to 'i love you, im sorry' by gracie abrams and 'i love you' by billie eilish so yay!

[sleepingdeath-light]

relationship hcs ; pure vanilla cookie

requested by ; anonymous (31/05/23)

fandom(s) ; cookie run

fandom masterlist(s) ; hub | specific

character(s) ; pure vanilla cookie

outline ; “can you please do some pure vanilla relationship hcs please? thx (btw: i hope you have a nice break)”

warning(s) ; none, just fluff!

pure vanilla cookie is a complete and utter gentleman in how he treats the people around him, but especially you as his spouse — starting from how he took his time to traditionally court and woo you before the two of you became an ‘official’ couple, and ending with him treating you as nothing short of royalty as you two settle more and more into your relationship

he rarely ever calls you by your formal name and rotates through a small selection of sweet pet names whenever he’s talking to or about you — including, but not limited to: ‘(my) beloved’, ‘(my) angel’, ‘(my) darling’, ‘dearest’, and ‘sweetheart’

he’s naturally a very giving person and will happily indulge in every single expression of love he knows of just to make sure you have no room left to doubt his feelings for you

acts of service — when it comes to taking care of you, status be damned pure vanilla cookie will do just about anything it takes to make your day a little brighter. this can mean all sorts of things, such as: going out of his way to get up earlier and make you breakfast in bed, sending word out to local vendors in the kingdom to ensure that they always have your favourite things in stock when he knows you’re going to go out to the market, or making sure that you get spoiled rotten and properly celebrated for every birthday, anniversary, or achievement.

gift giving — being the ruler of a thriving kingdom and a talented magic user, it’s safe to say that pure vanilla cookie is more than capable and willing to shower you with all sorts of gifts. of course amongst these gifts are things that are more lavish and elaborate (whole wardrobes worth of new clothing in the style of his kingdom, organised banquets to celebrate important milestones, using his magic to organise unforgettable dates for you both, and so on) but most of the things he gifts you are more small and thoughtful in nature, as is to be expected of someone like him: trinkets and souvenirs from his travels, books he thinks you’ll like, accessories that reminded him of you, and anything he sees that he knows will make you smile (e.g. a type of item he knows you like to collect)

physical touch — though he does tend to stick to a socially appropriate level of pda with you, pure vanilla cookie is far from the type to shy away from physical affection with you. around others he usually sticks to a set few acts (hand holding, bringing your hand up to his lips to kiss the back of your hand/your fingertips/your knuckles, kissing you chastely on the lips or temple, brushing any hair out of your face, and reassuringly stroking his hands up and down your arms), but in private he’s much more varied in his displays of affection: more passionate kisses, cuddling and hugging you, dancing with you at random, letting his arms rest around your hips or waist, kissing along your shoulders, neck and wrists, etc. (he’s just… very touchy with you haha)

quality time — you’re his absolute favourite person to be around without question, whether you’re going out and having fun as a couple or just sitting together in silence doing your own things parallel to each other. every conversation, every date, every outing, every holiday, and every moment spent with you is something he treasures dearly and he does what he can to make sure that you’re as content and as comfortable in his presence as he is in yours.

words of affirmation — he’s the type of partner who tends to shower you with praise and attention whenever the opportunity arises. most of his affirmations are verbal (calling you beautiful/handsome as he presses a chaste kiss against your knuckles, earnestly congratulating you for every achievement and accolade you collect, softly and quietly reassuring you before you step out of your comfort zone, smiling as he recalls your strengths and talents to his oldest friends with more awe than he recalls those old stories from his adventuring days, etc.), but he’s also the type of sappy romantic to leave little love letters and notes around your shared space for you to find in his absence (e.g. a neatly folded note on your pillow telling you where he is, reaffirming his love for you, apologising for being absent, and promising to make it up to you at lunch time / or / a floating note on your vanity in his signature cursive that recalls a different positive affirmation every day that’s designed to make you smile, laugh, and relax for the day ahead)

though it’s easy to forget given how passive and pleasant he’s become in recent years, pure vanilla cookie is still a very capable magic wielder and, thus, is more than capable of protecting you should it come down to that — of course he’d much rather have the option to talk things out without having to shed blood, but if your safety is on the line then he’s not above returning to his roots and making damn sure the offending party knows to never try a stunt like this again

on the rare occasion that hollyberry cookie and the other ancients actually manage to get him tipsy (or, better yet, outright drunk), pure vanilla cookie will not stop talking about how amazing you are and how much he loves you — if nobody stops him or brings him somewhere quiet to rest and sober up, then there’s every chance that the ancients will spend the next few hours hearing about every little thing he adores about you until he finally passes out or golden cheese cookie goes and gets you so you can take your poor boyfriend home for the night

(the girls all think it’s absolutely adorable, dark cacao cookis is mostly neutral about the whole affair and just lets him rant, but golden cheese cookie and hollyberry cookie have both been known to tease him by reciting the sappiest things he’s said about you back to him when he’s sober again — usually something about your smile or the sound of your laughter)

[pilfappreciator]

Got an ask from @starzwithapen to write for how Viva would work around showing affection to a Reader with short hair BUT I FUMBLED AND ACCIDENTALLY DELETED THE ASK ASKLAJDLKJSD

BUT NO WORRIES BABE!! I got your message and I love the way you think, literally NOT ENOUGH Viva out in the world I swear 😤😤

Viva x Reader: love is in the hair

Includes: GN! Reader, Reader w/ short hair, LOTS of fluff, one singular use of the word "fantastamazing"

🌟 Hair is kind of a big thing for trolls— Viva especially. Like c'mon. Literally 5 seconds after meeting Poppy and this girl's first instinct was to style her hair?? Chances are she does this with just about anyone, let's be real. It's basically her #1 love language <33

🌟 That being said, she was probably like?? Super shocked when she first met you???

🌟 Pop trolls in particular traditionally have big hair, and I mean BIG as in it can basically be 3/4ths of their entire height lol. Of course there are some expections but Viva, personally? She's never met someone with hair like yours before... she's honestly in awe

🌟 But being the quirky girlie she is, this troll thinks your uniqueness is fantastamazing!! In fact your hair is probably what drew her towards you in the first place

🌟 But like I said before: this girl love love LOVES playing around with other people's hair! Elaborate hairdos are an art form and she's perfected it to a "T" uwu

🌟 But... your hair doesn't give her much room to work, now does it?

🌟 She's a little devasted at first ngl. I mean part of the reason she's so fond of styling hair is cuz she loves seeing her work on others (girl's a bit of a showoff ashdlajddds). Whenever she spots her friends and loved ones going about with their hair still done, she's never felt prouder. With your short hair that might be a bit of a problem...

🌟 But obviously she's not gonna let something like hair length stop her from showing how much she likes you! >:3

🌟 She'll still put braids in your hair, of course, but can't stop from feeling a little sad that they won't be as visible...

🌟 BUT THEN SHE GOES TO PUT THEM IN AND LIKE... wow she has to be awfully close just to get to your hair, huh? The two of you are sitting on the floor of her room, crisscrossed and facing each other... and the strands of your hair are so short that her fingers can't help but sometimes brush against your face... which is pretty close to her face, actually...

🌟 Expect to have this woman beg offer to braid your hair on the daily from then on

🌟 Much like Poppy, I like to think Viva is a Live, Love, Craft kinda gal. Better believe she's gonna be slaving away to make some DIY hairpins and bobs, maybe some ribbons or beads she can tie into your hair!! She's also taking into consideration your sense of style and what you like, so all these trinkets are gonna be personalized as hell lol

🌟 LET HER PUT THEM IN FOR YOU PLEASE SHE'S ON HER KNEES—

🌟 If someone else happens to point out/compliment your hair and Viva's within hearing distance? Girl is literally about to split her face with how wide she's smiling

🌟 This girlie is DEFINITELY making you two matching trinkets, don't even deny it. She adores the idea of having something to showcase your guys' bond. Just a little somethin special for the two of you <33

🌟 Also she just wants to show you off who are we kidding

🌟 Loves getting her hair done too, so definitely don't feel afraid to ask! I mean, good luck getting her hyperactive ass to sit still long enough but like!! She's just so excited to have you reciprocate her love language, can you blame her?

🌟 The feelings of fingers or a hairbrush running through hair is a HUGE stress reliever for her. Whether she's giving or recieving the action doesn't matter. It's just relaxing for her

🌟 Quickly learns to love your short hair for this exact reason because like?? The length just makes the whole process just SOOOO much simpler??? She doesn't have to worry as much about her fingers snagging in too many tangles which is a plus for her lol

🌟 Also loves being able to tuck strands of your hair behind your ears! She thinks she's so suave whenever she does ;))

🌟 Daily hairdo sessions quickly become a regular occurence between you two

🌟 Just hangin out in her room, doing each other's hair while you guys talk about your days. Running a place like Putt Putt Village is hardwork so definitely let Viva lay her head on your lap as you brush her hair, or the other way around if you'd prefer!! If you reassure her and tell her all her work is appreciated tho...

🌟 Your ass is gettin smooched. No way to avoid it <33

AKSJDHAHS SHE'S SO BEAUTIFUL I LOVE HER SO MUCH!! The people workin on Trolls 3 did not NEED to give us Viva... but they DID and I'm forever grateful 😔

[joelswritingmistress]

You Scare Me, Professor: Chapter 6

Summary: The reader is taking graduate classes at a local university in the wooded upstate New York. She is drawn to her professor, Dr. Joel Miller, though she is also inherently aware that he has something dark about him that she can't quite put her finger on. As the reader's attraction grows deeper, she has to decide whether to endure the danger or run away as fast as possible.

Pairing: Professor Joel Miller x f!reader 

Did he just say that? He just said that. Right?

I wondered if I had somehow inserted that last excerpt from Dr. Miller’s mouth into the conversation on my own. Had my mind made it up because I wanted him so badly?

He was smiling now, not at all able to fight it back. I could tell that he was attempting to without avail.

“Does that make you uncomfortable?” His voice caused my knees to part under the table. I didn’t know if it was instinctual or if the muscles in my legs had suddenly just turned to Jello but I literally felt myself melt down further into the oversized mahogany chair.

“That, uh..” I toyed with a strand of my hair for a half-a-second in my nervous tic, “That makes me a lot of things.”

“Another round?” The waitress appeared out of thin air and I was about to speak but Dr. Miller responded, with a simple, “We’ll take the check.”

I wanted to stay. When he was so eager to get the check after just one drink I couldn’t fight off the look of discouragement that was written all over my face. I knew what I must have looked like and I couldn’t reel it in. And then I thought about it some more. Maybe he was getting the check because he wanted to go somewhere else.

Like his house. It was wishful thinking.

“Stop looking like someone just shit in your cereal.” His accompanying laughter made me grin. There had to be something up his sleeve. This night couldn’t end with such an obscene, suggestive comment and lead nowhere.

“Didn’t want another drink?” I asked, trying to sound casual.

“It’s a school night. We both have to be up early.”

“It’s barely nine o’clock.”

Dr. Miller gave a chuckle again and then looked up as the waitress handed him a black, leather case with the tab for two drinks tucked inside. He held up a finger, slipped a one hundred dollar bill inside and then handed it to her.

“I’ll be back with your change,” replied the woman.

“It’s yours.” He looked me in the eye as he spoke to her again and then began rising to his feet as he reached for his coat.

I followed his lead and allowed him to lead us out of the place.

“I’ll walk you to your car.”

Was the night really over? On that note? On that red hot amorous note that had been left with a teetering, ‘dot, dot, dot’ next to it. To be continued? Would it?

Stop freaking out! My brain was screaming, shrieking; throwing a fit like a five year old in Toys ‘R Us that didn’t get the toy she wanted to play with. On the outside I smiled, gripped my keys and tried not to stare for too long as I walked beside Dr. Miller.

“You never gave an elaboration to your response,” he said to me once we stood by the driver’s side door in front of the old church.

I looked down and back up. “Should I elaborate?”

“I’d like to know where we stand.” He looked at me with certainty but, again, there was the slightest hint of uneasiness in his posture. Dr. Miller was tense in his shoulders and it traveled up his neck into his jaw as he waited.

“So would I,” I responded, taking a breath. I couldn’t look away from those brown eyes that were swelled black around the pupil. I knew what that meant - at least I thought I did.

“Well, how about this?” He took a step in my direction so there were only a few inches between us. “If you want to discuss it further, I’m opening up my office hours during our regularly scheduled class time on Thursday. Seven-thirty, I’ll walk you into the building, myself.”

I cleared my throat. Of course I was going to go. “Thursday.” I gave a little nod, wishing I had something to say that would affect him as much as he was currently affecting me.

“Email me if you change your mind.”

“I won’t,” I said right away. My chest heaved beneath my jacket and I opened my mouth to speak. At first nothing came out but then I finally asked the question that had been on my mind for the past seven or eight minutes, “Was that true what you said?”

“Which part?”

“About the elevator.” I swallowed hard now and Dr. Miller laughed again.

“Save all of your questions for Thursday at seven-thirty.” He took a step toward me and then nodded toward my vehicle, “Now get in your car so I know you’re safe.”

I looked at his lips. I wanted to kiss him. I wanted to lean in and see if he reciprocated, but from what I could tell of Dr. Miller, he was a forthright individual. If he wanted to kiss me, he would kiss me. He wanted to tell me about his racy musings when we were alone in the elevator. He wanted me to meet him alone at the school on Thursday. If he didn’t lean in for a kiss that means he didn’t want one.

Yet, I told myself.

I hit the button on my key fob and heard the click as my headlights flickered to let everyone in the immediate area know I had just unlocked the car.

“Goodnight (Y/N).” Dr. Miller gave a pained smile that emphasized the crow’s feet on the outskirts of his eyes.

“Goodnight Dr. Miller.” He didn’t correct me this time or ask me to refer to him as Joel. I knew at least a part of him liked having the title roll off my willing lips to acknowledge his authority over me.

Shutting my car door might as well have been shutting the jail cell. I gave a wave and started up the vehicle before reluctantly backing away from where he now stood on the walkway.

Even as I drove down the road, I glanced in my rearview mirror until I could no longer see his figure there and then finally turned the corner to head towards home.

The next day-and-a-half had me worrying about myself. My behavior felt obsessive. I had inspected every social media outlet in search of Joel Miller but there was nothing. He didn't even have a LinkedIn. That one, I had to say, surprised me.

No Snapchat. No Instagram. No Facebook. Nothing.

For my own senseless reasons it frustrated me. I wanted to know more about him. I wanted to see a collection of pictures from his life over the course of the past decade. I decided I was spoiled for having access to just about anyone else's life I wanted to dig into.

Maybe I should put my profiles on private. It was Dr. Miller's casual piece of advice. Anyone could dig into my life and I was too concerned about getting “likes” than I was my own privacy. 

I'm a walking cliche of today's pre-thirty generation. 

Seeing as though my plan to gain access to Dr. Miller's life fell flat on the pavement, I carefully adjusted the private settings on all of my accounts. It had been a suggestion echoed to me by numerous friends and professionals that I hadn't taken seriously; yet here I was after one fleeting proposition from a man I just met making the meager change to my digital identity.

After work on Wednesday I found myself driving past The Library. My eyes scanned for the black Mercedes and I was actually satisfied in knowing that Dr. Miller wasn't out at the bar - at least when I drove by. It allowed my brain to rest rather than toy with the idea of dropping everything to go search inside for him.

Yes, I was officially obsessing. It felt like a violation of not only Dr. Miller's privacy, but also my own sanity.

It didn't stop me from repeating the action on the following afternoon after work. My amateur investigations weren't particularly thorough, though I assumed his car would stand out if he had been around, especially when my eyes were actively seeking out one specific automobile. 

There was a light at the end of the tunnel, however. It was Thursday. It was the evening I would be attending Dr. Miller's office hours.

Office hours. I was sure he hadn't actually posted any office hours. I was going to be alone with him.

In all of my years I hadn't had an off-kilter fantasy. My brain had never fancied the idea of taboo love affairs, or men in uniform or any of the typical sexual scenarios that I had heard others speak about.

Now, the idea of letting my handsome, older professor take me on his desk was enough to ignite a fire in every single part of my body - my head, my heart, my soul, my.. everything.

I wouldn't deny him. Correction, I couldn't deny him. I had created the scenario in my mind time after time. It was far too heavy a weight on my shoulders by now to just shy away from. I wanted Dr. Miller in the worst way.

Tori, my roommate, eyed me suspiciously as I exited my bedroom that evening. My clothes were casual, though rather than a sweatshirt and my white Converse sneakers I wore knee-high, brown boots and a tight, gray sweater that revealed just a bit of cleavage. 

My ponytail was replaced by perfectly straightened hair and just a tad more than the average amount of makeup I typically sported. Yes, if our roles had been reversed I would have had questions. Unless we were going out somewhere I always slummed it in the most comfortably acceptable clothes I could manage.

“Umm..” My roommate’s eyebrows pressed together, “Do you have a date I don't know about?”

I decided to meet her questions in the middle. “I'm going to a quick study session.” Tori gave me an ‘I don't believe you’ look and so I went on, “And then I'm going out with a guy I met at school.”

My professor, I added in my mind.

Not quite a lie. Not quite the truth. But she seemed to believe it and so I smiled when she offered me good luck.

“I'll fill you in,” I lied, knowing whatever happened that evening I would surely be keeping to myself - at least for the time being. Although I loathed the ‘YOLO’ expression, there was a time for everything and so I reminded myself, you only live once.

The drive to Woodbridge had my stomach in knots. I didn't know what was going to happen. Suddenly I wondered if I would even know what to do. I was twenty-seven. I had had sex before - plenty of it actually. I wasn't a nun.. but I wasn't a freak either. What was Dr. Miller expecting? He had certainly been around the block a time or two.

The faintest hint of sweat coated my hairline, a result of my budding anxiety. I couldn't wait, but then again I was so completely out of my league. I had never met a man so sure of himself. The guys I had dated, we were on an even playing field. I felt like a fan in the stands of a rock concert that was just called on stage to sing with Bon Jovi.

Stop putting him on such a pedestal, I told myself; though I truly couldn't help it. All reason had betrayed me.

The black Mercedes was there when I pulled into the lot and I saw Dr. Miller casually step out of his vehicle the second my blinker winked in favor of the parking lot on the left off the main road that cut through campus.

I parked closer to the building and slowly climbed out of the car as he approached. I knew I was a mess. There was no hiding what I was feeling. I was sure he might even be able to hear the thudding of my heart in my chest.

“I offered to walk you in,” he reminded me, to which I nodded as we walked in silence through the threshold of the academic enclosure.

Dr. Miller walked with a purpose toward the elevator in the main lobby, eagerly pressing the down button that would lead us to the basement where his office and our lecture hall sat vacant.

I thought of his words from Tuesday night at the bar as the doors opened and we entered. There were no other people in the building that I saw. There were no cameras in the elevator. As the doors shut with a resounding thump I side-glanced at my professor.

Out of my peripheral vision I could see how tensely straight he stood. His eyes were straight ahead; focused. He didn't blink or move. It almost looked as if he was holding his breath.

Please. I begged him in my mind, though I have to say when the doors reopened and we emerged to the basement level I was disappointed that he didn't immediately try to jump my bones. The opportunity had presented itself for Dr. Miller to do all the dirty things he claimed to have been craving and he hadn't even flinched on the ride. It was okay, now, wasn't it? Now that he knew I was a willing participant.

You're being ridiculous. I was currently questioning my every thought, my every word, my every move.

The stillness of the typically buzzing building heightened my anxiety. It felt as if butterflies were having a rave inside of my stomach. The only sound that gave a mild echo off the walls of the vacant corridor were the gentle clicks of Dr. Miller's shoes.

My temperature felt like it was rising with each door we passed. I counted them to maintain some level-headedness.

One. Two. Three. Four.

When the fifth door came into clear view, Dr. Miller reached a hand into his khakis and removed a ring of keys. 

Next to the oversized, wooden door was a black piece of plastic with Dr. Miller’s name etched into it. Below his name was the door number: 007.

Of course it is, I thought, almost smiling and rolling my eyes. The heat returned to my cheeks, however, when my gaze met his from just a few inches away.

I swallowed hard when the silver key eased into the door handle, glancing down for just a second, before regaining his eyes.

There was a moment of hesitation on Dr. Miller's part before he finally turned the key and let the door swing open from a little push of his forearm.

“After you.” His arm extended outward now and the light automatically went on as I crossed through the threshold. “Can I get you something to drink?” 

He waltzed in, loosening his tie a bit as he rounded an oversized, espresso desk. 

“Umm.. no.” I shook my head, “No I'm fine.”

The corner of Dr. Miller's mouth tipped up in a little smirk. “Please, have a seat.” He motioned to a chair across from where he made himself comfortable and leaned forward with both hands folded on top of the desk.

I did as I was told. On the surface I thought I appeared like I had my shit together; like I wasn't imagining him pinning me down on the desk and having his way with me; like I wasn't conflicted about whether my feelings on the matter were wrong or right; or if he could lose his job if something did happen between us.

The man had a way of building tension. The brief moment of silence that lingered was deafening. His stare was almost too much for me. I wanted to say something, anything, but I couldn't find the words to kick off a conversation.

“I assume you still have the question in your mind.” Dr. Miller finally spoke. “From the other night.”

My chest heaved up and down once from a breath I hadn't realized I had been holding. I opened my mouth to speak but I was interrupted.

“Dr. Miller!” An overzealous young man waved a stack of papers and held an IPad under his arm as he entered through the open door from the hallway.

I held my breath for half-a-second. It was Trevor Nelson. I had had two classes with him and his sheer presence alone was enough to drive me crazy. Right then, he was the bane of my existence. What was he doing here?

His stammering repetition of Dr. Miller’s name almost led me to a physical eye roll.

“Good evening.” Dr. Miller extended his arm out and Trevor eagerly shook it. “Remind me again of your-”

“Trevor,” he more-or-less shouted, glancing at me briefly.

I could see Dr. Miller was taken off-guard, though it was his organically, suave nature that allowed him to get through the unwanted conversation with ease.

“What can I do for you Trevor?”

“I just wanted to discuss a few points from the reading if you had a moment,” Trevor said, “And seeing as though you sent out an email with office hours I suspected you had the time.”

Office hours. He did send out his office hours.

Fuck! Was I all wrong?

“Yes,” Dr. Miller motioned to a second chair beside me. “I wasn't expecting you,” he admitted, “I sent out a sign up sheet-”

“My Wifi kept malfunctioning,” Trevor went on, cutting him off. “I tried. And that's why I printed some things out. I just assumed you would be here anyway and..” He shrugged and then looked at me for the first time, “I'm surprised to see you here.”

Dr. Miller huffed a laugh now. He looked at me with raised eyebrows as if to study what my reaction would be. What would I say to Trevor’s snide remark?

His very tone and uppity attitude was the precise reason why I couldn't stand him.

“I had questions about the reading, as well.” I remained cordial. There was no way I was about to air out a petty reply that would make me seem bitter or immature in my ways.

“Well.. great. We can bounce questions off one another then.” Trevor forced a smile that, while mum, seemed to have the same whiny tone as his nasally voice. 

“I blocked off twenty minute time slots,” Dr. Miller reminded him. “I have another appointment at 7:50.”

My stomach dropped and our eyes caught one another’s. He winked as Trevor took a fleeting peek at his watch with as much disappointment as I knew my face had suddenly been white-washed with.

Despite the wink I couldn't tell if he was serious or lying. Was Trevor really fucking up my twenty minutes alone with Dr. Miller? Was there another student coming in at ten of eight?

As my classmate began his vexatious ramblings I felt a burning hostility brewing in my core. At one point Dr. Miller's foot grazed mine beneath the table but he didn't look in my direction as it happened.

I decided I had to harness my disdain, which I knew was heightened to an unwarranted degree for poor Trevor. I actively told myself to stop being a jerk.

The genuine question that I had from the reading the other night popped into my head. Hallelujah, reason prevailed.

“If it's not too morbid, do you think whoever killed the girl on campus might be suffering from Antisocial Personality Disorder?” It was my first genuine attempt to engage in the conversation. 

Typically, I truly did enjoy the subject matter. That night, however, my mind was deep in the gutter. That's why I had to run with the lone, pertinent thought that inhabited my brain.

Dr. Miller turned and a small smile formed on his face. The dimples that drove me crazy were out in full force and I could see he was intrigued by my question.

“Interesting.” He leaned back in his seat and folded one leg over the other. “Depending on the motive I could entertain it as a possibility.”

I smiled wide, enjoying his mild praise.

“That is an interesting question,” Trevor added.

My eyes shifted toward Trevor for a second as he eyed the ceiling as he pondered my question. When I looked back, Dr. Miller had tipped his mouth up in a half-smirk again.

When Trevor came back down to earth, our professor motioned to the clock above me on the wall. “I'm sorry to kick you out.” Dr. Miller looked directly at Trevor now, “I think we've ended this session with a valid question that we can open with during Tuesday's class.” He rose to his feet and extended an arm in my classmate’s direction, “Sit on that idea over the weekend. Bring some notes to class.” He glanced at me and added, “I think that was a great topic of conversation Ms. (Y/LN).”

“Thank you.” I gave a little nod and Trevor appeared appeased as the three of us began a natural shift toward the door.

“Thank you for your time Dr. Miller.” The young man smiled and tucked his IPad back under his arm before vacating the room ahead of me. He turned for a second and asked, “Do you think they'll catch whoever killed that girl?”

My gaze switched from Trevor to Dr. Miller and he sucked his teeth while folding his hands together on top of the table. “I'm no investigator,” he said, “But if you want my honest opinion..” a breath exited through his nose and he finished with a simple, “No. No, I don't.”

“Why not?” Trevor leaned an arm on the door and Dr. Miller laughed while motioning to the clock again.

“Save it for another time.”

Like Trevor, I wanted to know his reasoning; though I didn't dig deeper into it right then. As intriguing and scary as it all was, other emotions were tugging at my core.

“I'll see you in class,” Trevor said, though I didn't know if he was speaking to me or our professor. 

I wasn't so quick to leave, but I knew it was time. I hadn't expected Dr. Miller to actually post office hours so it was probable that there was another student about to arrive.

Was it a female student? Yep, sparked jealousy inside of me.

When Dr. Miller didn't immediately make a plea for me to stay, I wandered through the open door toward the hallway.

And then I jumped. It was almost inhuman how fast his arm wrapped around my midsection and pulled me back into the room with him with the ferocity of a wolf mauling a lamb.

A gasp escaped my lips when he turned me around to face him as the door closed and my back planted against it. It was all one giant obscure action; a whirlwind of tension released when our bodies were finally pressed up against one another's and I was left panting.

“I thought you had another-”

His finger found my lips to shut me up. A wicked smile advertised his true intentions and his blackened eyes could have set me ablaze right there.

“You are as gullible as your friend Trevor.”

Before I could respond his lips crashed against mine. They literally crashed leaving the back of my head slamming against the thick wood behind me. I barely felt it. 

What I did feel was a rush of adrenaline and desire and a thirst for the man that I couldn't suppress - not when his hands were roaming my body and his tongue aggressively penetrated my lips.

I could barely keep up. I had built the moment up so much and now that I was wrapped up in the middle of this avid tornado of passion it had far surpassed my fantasies.

My arms wrapped high around his shoulders, though he quickly pinned them above my head against the door with one hand. His other hand hastily fiddled in his pocket to remove a set of keys, at which time my cheeks blushed a more fiery red when I saw his arousal peaking the front of his khakis.

My eyes were the only part of me capable of moving freely. The rest of me was a willing prisoner to the force of his body against mine. I never wanted to be released.

Dr. Miller's key slipped into the slot in the center of the doorknob and a click secured us behind closed doors.

With an echoing clank the keys hit the floor and my aching, vacant lips were welcomed back with the immediate warmth of his. When his hand released both of mine on the door my arms instinctively wrapped around him again. I was on cloud nine; in a state of mindless bliss. For the first time, possibly ever, I thought of nothing and just acted without reserve.

It was only when I struggled to breathe that I took a parting breath, allowing air back into my aching lungs. Dr. Miller groaned with the brief separation though it gave him the second he needed to wrestle with the button on my jeans.

In that one swift movement of his fingers he had access to everything I had to offer. I bit my lip in anticipation of him touching me for the first time. Just before my eyes were forced shut I saw his hungry eyes drinking in every part of me.

Dr. Miller's over-pronounced sigh accompanied the sensation of his first two fingers as they made home against my most sensitive areas.

I moaned as quietly as possible, though he made the task more difficult when his lips grazed the area just beneath my ear.

I let out a louder moan when his fingers pushed inside of me and his hot breath landed on my neck, the other cupped over my mouth and my eyes suddenly snapped open.

“Shhh..” Dr. Miller gave a hushed reminder that we weren't exactly in our own private love shack while his fingers continued their exploration. “We wouldn't want Trevor to wander back here because he heard a suspicious noise would we?”

Slowly, his hand was removed from across my mouth. I reached a hand down toward his waist but he swatted it away.

“You're not ready for that yet,” he growled, still speaking in a voice just above a whisper.

I was paralyzed. Paralyzed by pleasure. Paralyzed by the thrill. Paralyzed by my raw attraction to Dr. Miller. At that moment I didn't think I could speak if I tried.

A brand new combination of nervousness and arousal made home within me when his free hand now lingered on my throat. The barely-there pressure added something to what I had been feeling all along.

“You like that?” It was closer to a statement than a question but I choked out a whispered, “Yes,” in response.

There was a shake in my legs that I couldn't relieve. Dr. Miller felt it. There was no way he didn't. I was writhing beneath him against the door as the distance between my parted feet on the floor widened with the spread of my legs.

It didn't take long to reach my climax that was induced by his fingers, his hand on my throat, and the dirty nothings he whispered as he encouraged my impending orgasm.

I struggled to maintain my composure. As the first curse word escaped my lips his hand more forcefully clamped over my mouth again, though all the same his lips found my ear again as he encouraged me to, “Let it out,” in a hiss of whisper.

That was the final push. Fireworks might as well have gone off in my lower half as my muffled moans sounded off against the warmth of his palm. My eyes alternated between open and closed in those final seconds and Dr. Miller's provocative growling voice took my right back to the dream I’d had. This was no dream.

The shot of adrenaline had filtered through my body, numbing my limbs like some type of drug had just been injected into my veins.

Fuck! For several seconds I could only focus on the pleasure as I breathed heavily in and out in an attempt to remain quiet.

When I began to come down off the high. All of my senses began to return and I could hear my own breathing as his generous hand warily crept back out from beneath my damp panties.

A smile formed on my face as he stared at him. I was hot and disheveled. My pants were still down off my waist and as I went to tug them back up Dr. Miller stopped me.

“Oh we're not done yet,” he assured me, glancing over his shoulder toward the oversized desk. When he turned back around he reached for my hand and towed me across the room. I felt like I was floating.

When he made himself comfortable in the oversized chair, I just stared at him. With the two fingers that had just been inside of me he waved for me to come to him and pulled me down in for another heated kiss before whispering against my lips. “Now you're going to get down on your knees and return the favor.”

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